As the peloton drops into a Southern California canyon, picking up speed through corkscrew bends, I sense another rider hovering just over my right shoulder, waiting to pass. Could it be George Hincapie, Lance Armstrong's longtime lieutenant, whom I'd spotted a moment ago on the climb? Or am I holding up the great Paolo Savoldelli, the fearless descender known as "Il Falco," who won the 2005 Giro d'Italia?

I ease over and the mystery rider shoots past. To my surprise, it's an unknown named Michael Patterson, a man more than two decades older than me. Tall and hawkish, with a sharp, patrician profile, Patterson looks like he ought to be enjoying a round of golf back at the Ojai Valley Inn and Spa, the posh retreat where we're all staying. But here he is, wind jacket flapping, white socks peeking out of ancient Carnacs, leaning his handmade steel bike into the curves at 30 miles per hour.

It's the last weekend in January, and the Discovery Channel Pro Cycling Team is hosting its annual invitation-only Sponsor Ride in Ojai, a gemlike mountain town two hours north of Los Angeles. When we left the inn this morning, our 100-strong pack displayed the full range of cycling abilities, from wobbly Discovery Channel execs all the way up to Armstrong himself. Most years, the 50-mile ride is "social" for the first hour, after which Lance and the Discovery boys crank the throttle, mercilessly shedding the suits.

But the twisty climbs—and last night's wine-soaked Sponsor Dinner, which merged sloppily into a late-night bacchanal at Jimmy's, the hotel bar—have already taken their toll. Yesterday the Discovery team finished a two-week training camp in the wine country near Santa Barbara, and they were ready to cut loose. The retired Armstrong and his former teammates Bode Millered late into the night. Earlier this morning, after just an hour of riding, we spotted the Tour de France king drifting back through the pack, shaking his woozy head.

"There's your glimpse of greatness," my riding partner joked.

Lance wasn't the only one needing a hot tub. The remaining 40-odd cyclists now constitute the world's highest-powered hangover ride. Police cars whoosh past the group, blocking traffic. And as we speed toward the last big climb of the day, the long-limbed Hincapie, 32, is giving a helping push to Jim Ochowicz, the 54-year-old former Olympian who ran the legendary Motorola team that, in the mid-nineties, gave Hincapie and Armstrong their professional start. Kozo Shimano, 44, is here—representing the huge Japanese bike-component manufacturer that bears his family name—as is Armstrong's longtime coach, 46-year-old Chris Carmichael. Chatting away behind me is rising Discovery star Tom Danielson, 28, who finished eighth at last year's Vuelta a España, thanks mainly to his stellar climbing abilities. All around him, exhausted riders are praying that he keeps talking and forgets to attack.

No such luck. As the grade steepens, Danielson and a few teammates get serious, and soon they're gone, leaving the rest of us to suffer in their wake.