So it turned out to be a lot harder than it looked. It seemed so simple when Rick Rogers forwarded me the link and suggested that, since Carol and I like traveling Outside to do long rides on our tandem, it is only natural we would do the Larry Schwartz Year-Rounder Century Challenge from the Ultra Marathon Cycling Association. Rick is my triathlon training buddy; "Outside" is what Alaskans call everyplace else, particularly the "Lower 48."

Carol and I did accept the challenge, thank you. With the rides we were already planning, it looked like a piece of cake. The rules of the game are simple: do a century in every calendar month January through December. The prize, a medal and bragging rights.

Actually, the rules are even more liberal. A century ride is 100 miles. For this event, though, any ride over 90 miles counts. This is to allow for the fact that some century rides are a little short; others are a little long.

The one-a-month rule has some slack, too. You can do two make-up rides, so you can skip January and do two in February, or even in June, to fill the gap. There is even a way to get a third make up-by riding for six hours on a trainer during one of the winter months. Because you don't coast on the trainer, six hours is a long time.

To cut to the bottom line-we completed the challenge. Carol and I are the first Alaskans to do so; not bad for a couple of AARP members in their second year riding a tandem. It was great fun; the rides were spectacular, ranging from fairly easy to extremely difficult, but the challenge wasn't the rides-it was the logistics. Once you have ridden 100 miles, it's not all that hard to do it again. But putting the bike in its cases and taking the dog to the kennel, getting on the plane and actually going, began to wear on us. You would think that getting out of Alaska in the winter would be a good thing. There can be too much of a good thing.

The Gianninis at Badwater on the Death Valley double century. Photo by Carol Giannini

It didn't help that we squandered August. There is no excuse. Anyone ought to be able to find at least one day to ride 100 miles in Alaska in August. We didn't. There were four weekends in August. The first was the State Triathlon: I tapered on Saturday and raced on Sunday. The next was a three day racewalk clinic we had already paid for. The third I had to work. The last weekend, we planned to ride to Seward and take the train back. It is about 120 miles from Anchorage, and if we left early we could make a nice day trip out of it. It rained. I don't mean a drizzle, but a full blown-monsoon. Both days. Yes, we could have ridden in the rain, but we didn't. So we squandered August.

We don't agree about January. Carol says we spent six hours on our trainers. I do remember spending a lot of time on my road bike, listening to loud music and looking out the window at the snow and the dark. I remember a four-and-a-half hour ride; if we went longer, I have repressed it. Content to use up half of our margin for error before we ever started, I did not send in the trainer ride and we used our first make-up ride for January.

Then, by squandering August, we committed to a century in December unless we wanted to spend six hours on the trainer. It's not that hard to find organized events for every month of the year if you look in places with warm climates. Every month, that is, except December. There are rides for King Day in January and for Thanksgiving in November, but no one has a ride at Christmas. In fact, the Larry Schwarz Year-Rounder ends on December 22, so a Christmas Day ride would count for next year anyway.

But I get ahead of myself.

The Gianninis at the finish of the Death Valley Double Century. Chris Kostman photo

Here are a few statistics to put this effort in perspective. During the last twelve months, we each became an Alaska Airlines MVP Gold member. We each traveled more than 40,000 miles and now get priority boarding and an occasional first class upgrade. We did 14 rides of 90 miles or more for a total of just under 2,000 miles. We earned the California Triple Crown by completing three double centuries, and also qualified for the Planet Ultra Grand Slam by completing four of their long rides. Three of our centuries were part of a week-long ride through southern Utah, including one directly into gale force headwinds. Ten of our Year-Rounder qualifiers were ridden Outside.

We shipped our old red Santana tandem, The Rotten Tomato, by Sports Express to Palm Springs, Death Valley, Solvang and San Ramon, CA. The rest of the time we checked our new Seven Cycles tandem as baggage on Alaska Airlines - to Tucson twice, to Burbank twice, to Reno, and to Las Vegas. The Seven has six S&S couplers, so it comes apart and goes into two airline-legal suitcases that travel without additional charge.

In between rides, we kept our bike tuned up with the help of the boys in the back at Paramount Cycles. There are no tandem specialty shops in Alaska and these guys have become experts at keeping the bike running smoothly. We couldn't have done any of this without them.

We also planned several rides, but didn't do them. The most notable was our DNF (Did Not Finish) at the Devil Mountain Double, which begins in San Ramon, CA and climbs over 18,000 feet, including Mt. Diablo and Mt. Hamilton, the two highest paved mountain roads in the area. Devil Mountain is the most challenging of the 19 double centuries in the Triple Crown schedule. We suspected we were in over our heads when we sent in the registration, but thought we should learn what our limits are.

The Gianninis on the Great Alaskan Double Century. Photo by Fintan Lyons, their son-in-law and SAG driver

We climbed Mt. Diablo, which rises 3,200 feet in ten miles, including the last two-tenths of a mile aptly called THE WALL, a 21 percent grade. We also negotiated Morgan Territory Road, which travels through a secluded canyon and gains 1,500 feet in 7.4 miles with what the organizers call SOME VERY STEEP SPOTS. After Morgan Territory we still had to climb Mt. Hamilton. There is a mandatory cutoff at the base of the climb that prevents riders from descending in the dark. It was impossible for us to make the cutoff, so we abandoned the ride and rode back to the hotel. We only had to circle the block at the hotel five or six times to make certain we had enough miles to qualify as our century for April. We were disappointed that we were unable to finish, but proud nonetheless of our accomplishment on Diablo and Morgan Territory.

We were also registered to ride in the Davis Double a few weeks later, but ended up scratching (although they sent us our T-shirts anyway). Logistics issues, coupled with our lingering fatigue, were enough to make us decide to stay home. As a result, we only finished four Triple Crown doubles, not the five that would have made us Thousand Mile Finishers.

Only four doubles! We were in Death Valley after the 100-year storm and saw water in the dry seabed as we rode through the lowest spot in the hemisphere and climbed hills covered with blooming flowers that hadn't been seen for generations. Near the end of the Solvang Double, we rode up over Drum Canyon in the black of a moonless night, our own lights just bright enough to find the reflecting stripe on the power poles as we climbed nearly blind for two hours.

Climbing Thompson Pass on the Great Alaskan Double Century. Photo by Fintan Lyons

As a result of our reputation for being slow but sure, we were allowed to continue on the course of the Tour of Two Forests Double long after we should have been SAG'd off the mountain. The Eastern Sierra Double in Bishop, California goes to Mammoth and June Lakes and on to Mono Lake, and is accurately described as "road bike heaven. " We stayed an extra day and volunteered to drive SAG for the Staff Ride. It was eye opening to see how much effort goes into keeping riders supported and safe.

We did finish a fifth double. Though not a Triple Crown ride, it was the most exotic of them all. The Great Alaska Double Century, also called the Fireweed 200, goes from Sheep Mountain Lodge on the Glenn Highway near the Matanuska Glacier over Thompson Pass to Valdez during the long days of Alaska's summer. The route has a net altitude loss, so even slow riders like us can have a fast time if we stay on top of things. Notwithstanding a flat tire, we finished in under 14 hours.

We also rode a seven day Tour of Southern Utah, which went on a big loop from St. George to Zion and Bryce Canyons through Escalante to Torrey and Panguitch and Cedar City and back to St. George. Our February ride was the Tour de Palm Springs and we cruised through the desert with snow on the surrounding peaks. During the Cochise County Cycling Classic 157 in southern Arizona in October, we slogged through a thunderstorm in the valley between the Chirachauas and the Dragoon Mountains with lightning striking on both sides of the road. There was no place to hide, so I positioned the bike as close to the power lines as I could and we kept riding. In November we circled the city of Tucson during El Tour, and with 6,000 other riders, carried our bike across the dry Santa Cruz River in a cloud of dust to avoid picking up goathead thorns.

One ride was a "personal" - the opposite of an organized ride - and was the shakedown ride for the new tandem in May. It was still cold in Anchorage, and we wore three layers the whole day. We rode from our house in midtown Anchorage and out the bike trail to Eagle River, Chugiak and Peters Creek. At the Eagle River Nature Center we encountered rain and then snow. In the woods behind the University, Carol spotted a moose with twin calves just hours old and we watched from as close as we dared.

To document our personal ride, we stopped in stores and bought Red Bull and candy bars, hoping to get receipts proving where we were at what time on the day of our ride. This was a failure, because the few stores that had their cash register date set right were still on standard time. In the end, I sent in the printout from my heart rate monitor, which also showed speed, distance, cadence and altitude. John Lee Ellis, the UMCA Mileage Challenge chair from Colorado, accepted it, but wrote back with some comment about sea level people and our ability to climb.

And, we found a December ride. The Planet Ultra people heard that we needed one, and were looking for an excuse to renew their "Club Christmas" ride. It started in Calabasas, on Highway 101 between the San Fernando Valley and Oxnard, only a short, but steep ride down any number of canyons to Malibu and the Pacific Ocean. We saw whales, and a flock of pelicans riding an updraft at eye level an arm's reach away, and what looked like snowy egrets standing in a field. Though it was mid-December and the sun was weak and the days short, the weather was perfect. We took our time, but still would have finished before dark, if I hadn't taken a wrong turn with half a mile to go.

The Gianninis at Kashwintna lake in Alaska. Carol Giannini photo

So now we're back in Alaska and it is the dead of winter. Garage rides are in full swing, and next week on Winter Solstice, I will commemorate the end of the solar year (and the Year-Rounder) by doing an easy recovery ride with the group cycling class I lead on Wednesday mornings at The Alaska Club. I will give my usual speech about setting goals for next year.

To that end, I have been busy at my computer: we are booked on a tour in Tuscany in the fall and a PAC Tour Desert Tandem Training Camp in February. That's all we have committed to next year, unless you count signing up for Death Valley Double again. And I plan to racewalk in a half marathon in Phoenix in mid-January.

So to answer the question that no one has asked, but is lurking just around the corner- "Are we going to do the Year-Rounder again next year?" Well, the rule is "Take options, never give them," and you know, since we will be in Phoenix in January anyway, and we are getting there on Thursday and the race isn't till Sunday, we could take the bike and ride, say, on Friday and get a century in. That would cover January, and since two of the training camp days are centuries and two are just a little short, with a few add-on miles, and then Death Valley, if we do it, why, we would be covered for five months already. Plus we'll surely do Fireweed 200 again, so that's six, and maybe we could get a century on the Tuscany ride in both September and October, so that's eight, so we would just need a few more rides and look here, an email from Rick Rogers with an attachment - it's a handy list of rides in all of the western states for next year - and you know, we still have that companion pass from the Alaska Airlines Visa and a lot of miles left even after booking the Italy trip, and how much leave can you save up . . . .

So it's a lot harder than it looks. But we're keeping our options open.

About the Gianninis
Peter and Carol have lived in Alaska since 1978. They started riding a tandem team in May 2004. They are the first Alaskans to finish the Year-Rounder and the first to earn the California Triple Crown. Both are members of the Arctic Bicycle Club.

Peter is an attorney, a writer, and a certified group fitness instructor, who teaches group cycling. He was the Northwest Region Xterra Regional Champion in his age group in 2003 and an Ironman Florida finisher in 2004.

Carol is a fraud investigator for the state of Alaska and is an avid gardener and quilter.

Peter notes: "We can't wait to retire."

UMCA Year-Rounder Challenge

Preparing for and riding centuries