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HOW IT ALL BEGAN- THE DOUBLE CENTURY
by Hal Munn
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It may be of interest to learn how it began, who conceived the idea and why. Fortunately, those who gave birth to the Double Century are still with us and we can write of it from the authority of original sources.
Marge Gall, an early member of the club, is credited with putting the first DC into motion. In the 1950s she was riding a 3-speed Raleigh standard tourist bike. In the summer of 1959 she fulfilled a long-standing desire and acquired a new 10-speed Follis lightweight. Marge was so intrigued with its easy riding qualities that she mentioned to Leo Cree, a fellow club member, that they ought to try a double century sometime. Earlier that summer, Leo had ridden a stiff hub track bike from Santa Maria to Santa Monica in one day, a distance of nearly 200 miles. Marge had ridden as far as 125 miles in one day on her 3-speed. With riding experience like this, a double seemed possible. Leo was game to try it.
The idea was mentioned to Jack Flynn, John Bauman and other Wheelmen, and the word got around that Marge Gall was planning to ride a double century. Men in the club said that if Marge could do it, we could do it too. There was alleged to be a $500 bet between the members of Harry" Hook's Beverly Hills Club that Marge would never do it. Put on the spot this way, she had no choice but to follow through. Time for planning was short. The winter months were approaching, and the ride had to be done before the rain and cold weather. Lloyd Benz printed an announcement. The date was set for Saturday, October 17, 1959. The event was christened the First Annual Double Century, someone evidently having the intuition that if it got started at all it would become an annual affair. The route was selected from a map, there being no time to drive it, check the roads, or print a route sheet. It was estimated to be 100 miles up the coast to the town of Goleta, so this point was chosen to be the check-in and turnaround. Riders were permitted to follow any short cuts, side roads, or deviations from the main highway that appealed to them. There were no intermediate check points, with the friendly faces and cold drinks so much appreciated on our present ride. Arrangements were made with a bike shop in Goleta to serve as the sign-in station. The owner was so taken with the DC idea that he agreed to sponsor the event, give publicity in Santa Barbara and provide a free lunch for the riders. Marge got in touch with reporters from the Santa Monica Outlook. A writer interviewed Marge, and the paper ran an article on the forthcoming event. Several bicycle dealers heard of it, gave it their support, and donated prizes for successful finishers. Bob Tetzlaf, a well-known personality in racing circles, spread the word to the racing clubs and gave the event standing with these riders. Not everyone reacted to the DC with approval. Marge talked to the Santa Monica Police for advice and possible assistance. They reacted by trying to talk her out of such a nutty project. A number of club members reacted the same way, saying it was too dangerous. Marge almost succumbed to this influence, and during one desperate moment, nearly called the whole thing off. One prominent individual who had talked hardest against the event had a change of heart at the last minute and appeared at the start to cheer them on. The big day arrived. Marge was hoping for a large turnout, as many as 30-40, perhaps. But only five riders got underway from Wilshire and Western, to be joined by eight more at the second starting point, Lincoln and Colorado, in Santa Monica. Kathy Dally acted as the official starter, and she and Leo Cree followed the riders by car during the day. The only rules were these: Each bicycle had to be equipped with a headlight and a rear reflector and at least one brake. The rider had to check in at the halfway mark and sign in at an all-night gas station at the starting point within 24 hours. As far as Marge was concerned, the DC was not a race. It was a test of endurance to see if you could ride a bicycle 200 miles in one day. However, several riders from the racing clubs had entered, and as far as they were concerned, it was a race, which the strongest rider proceeded to polish off in less than eleven hours. The double century announcement stated that, "Prizes would be awarded to the fastest riders..." Thus began the great controversy: "is it a tour or a race?" Of the thirteen riders starting, six finished, in the following order:
After it was over, the riders agreed that the Double Century was an agonizing and exhilarating experience with a peculiar fascination, and definitely worth repeating. To everyone's chagrin, it was later discovered that the route was only 189 miles long! It was rescheduled for June of 1960 to take advantage of the longest days of the year, and was lengthened to a full 200 miles. Because of the heavy traffic and monotony of the Coast Highway, the route was changed in 1963 to go inland through the San Fernando Valley to Saugus, and then to Santa Paula to Ojai, and to use secondary roads as much as possible. It was further improved in 1966 to eliminate nearly all of the heavily traveled city boulevards and the use of Cahuenga Pass into the Valley. In 1967, a level, or "Lowland" route was added to eliminate the hill climbing of the Saugus-Santa Paula ride, now designated the "Highland." For two years the event offered three different options (Lowland, Highland, Midland) but this proved confusing and was dropped in favor of the two basic rides. From time to time over the years, a handful of strong riders, led by John Bauman, Ray Blum, and Norm Saslowsky, had put together triple centuries. These had no connection with the June DC and were organized separately at a different time of year for the few superstrong riders. The first Triple was on August 29, 1964. Starting from Ventura Blvd. and Topanga in Woodland Hills, the route went over Santa Susana Pass to Ventura, to Carpinteria, to Ojai (109 miles), to Castaic Junction (150 miles), to Lancaster (230 miles), return to Saugus (275 miles), to start (300 miles). This mighty feat was accomplished in exactly 24 hours by three young men, Norm Saslowsky, Don Brown, and Ron Hargrave. Starting in 1972, to take advantage of the Double Century's rider support system, the Triple was included with the DC to become the status challenge (riding a mere 200 miles had by this time become old hat). The official name of the event was changed to "Grand Tour" to encompass the 300. To give the ultimate experience to the addicted bicycle masochist, the Quadruple (400 miles in 24 hours) was added in 1975, mostly as a tongue in cheek proposal (who could ride a double-double when the strongest triple riders required more than 20 hours?). But, sure enough, people will rise to any challenge, and Jack Chang, an unknown young rider from Chula Vista, showed up and polished it off. The gauntlet was picked up by subsequent riders: Ron Bates in 1976; Jim Woodhead in 1978; Dave Smith and Jim Woodhead in 1979. Determined riders as they toil along the seemingly endless route, and later, as they proudly claim the DC Emblem, will both blame and thank Marge Gall and her fellow pioneers for establishing the Los Angeles Wheelmen's Annual Double Century. |