Climbing

My time here in the DC area is giving me an appreciation for "real" climbing on my bike - relative to SE Michigan. My first reality check was climbing Mt. Weather and Blue Mountain in Virginia on a ride a few weeks ago. Mt. Weather was probably just over 3km at 6%, not a terribly hard climb but definitely rivaling the climbs at Battenkill. Blue Mountain was a new experience - 6.5km of dirt road climbing at an average of about 7% with the steepest grades well above 20% (25% according to my friend's GPS). The Blue Mountain climb took about 35-40 minutes, definitely the longest period of time I've ever spend climbing. My 12-25 cassette was a poor choice and the idea of compact cranks started making a lot more sense in my head.

The next dose of climbing reality came riding in West Virginia. After racing the Lost River Classic on Saturday about 25-30 of us had planned to go out on a 80k recovery ride on Sunday. After a fairly hard race the day before and with temps around 40C I figured that it would be a pretty easy ride. There was a range of abilities represented from Cat1 to Cat 5 riders. The first indication that this might not be a "recovery" ride came when two guys from Battley-Harley Davidson (one of the strongest amateur teams in the country) got on the front and split the group. I made the front group but it cost me dearly and I yo-yo'd off the back for the next hour. The route was unrelenting, we were almost always either climbing at 12kph or descending at 80kph, very little time spent on flat ground. When we regrouped at a convenience store for snacks and drink refills I was already pretty gassed but figured that the first part of the route must have been the hardest. I was wrong. Very very wrong. As we left the store I heard guys talking about the climb that was up next. I didn't catch the distance but they were saying it would take the fast guys 45 minutes. Coming up to the climb I knew that if I wanted to have any chance of not imploding I needed to just ride my own ride and not worry about trying to keep up with anyone or respond to accelerations. I would just fixate on my power meter and do my damnedest to keep my power and heart rate under control. Unfortunately, I approached my strategy without factoring in the fatigue in my legs from the previous day's race or the riding that we had already done on the ride. I overestimated the power that I could hold for the climb. This meant that I made it about half of the way up the climb and then promptly cracked. Bad. If you think bonking is bad on a normal ride then you should try it on a climb with 5 kilometers left to go up hill in 40C temps. At the end of the day I found out that the climb was just under 10k long and gained 610 vertical meters over that distance. This works out to about an average of 6.3% gradient, though the lower slopes were probably closer to 4% and the last mile closer to 10%.

Then came the Tour of the Catskills in NY. This was my first stage race and it contained a fair amount of climbing. We started off with a 3.7km hill-climb prologue, followed by a 84km stage with 900m of climbing, and ending with a 90km stage with 800m of climbing. There were a total of 4 KOM summits split between the two main stages. The first 3 KOM's of the race were challenging but not terrible. The hardest part about them was the fact that it was impossible to get into a rhythm because the gradient was constantly changing. The 4th KOM was the relatively famous climb up Platte Clove Rd, also known as the 'Devil's Kitchen' climb. This is the climb that several pros ended up walking up in the rain during a stage of the Tour de Trump a number of years ago. The road climbs gently for 3.5km before arriving at a wall, at this point the road shoots upward gaining 335m in 3.2km - an average gradient of 12% with the steepest sections over 22%. This climb really smacked me in the face - I think that I suffered harder here than I ever have before on a bike. It was awesome. Having lost a bottle 35k into the race I arrived at the climb a bit parched and moving toward dehydration but still hit the climb at the front of the group with the goal of going as hard as I could for as long as I could and then trying to limit my losses after that - so naturally I started in perfect position on the wheel of the guy wearing the KOM jersey. But before I knew it I was in my 39x28 grinding at 45rpm barely able to keep my bike upright and fighting for all I was worth just to get the next pedal stroke over the top. Several riders were walking and I was surprised that they weren't passing me. It was incredibly hard but lots of fun. I must have been doing it right because I distinctly heard a number of spectators on the climb commenting about how fried I looked...

I have a couple more weeks to enjoy the climbing out here in the DC area but I think the bulk of it is likely behind me. Now I just need to focus on getting more long hours in the saddle with as much climbing as possible to put the finishing touches on my preparation for the LOTOJA Classic in September.

The Tour of the Battenkill

The 2010 Tour of The Battenkill aka: "the tour of the big-frickin-unpaved-hills in upstate new york" was my second race of the year (not counting training races). Talk about an experience! 11 hours of driving, sleeping on a hotel floor, finding a nice crit course in a hotel parking lot, freehub bodies coming loose from wheels, Navy stories, Air Force stories, frat stories, oh and all this before we even started the race.

The race was so much fun! Seriously hard work, but lots of fun. 20 miles in, just after the first feedzone, I had the two lead groups in sight but couldn't get the 5-6 guys with me to work at pulling the other groups back, so I waited for a little kicker, launched an attack from 3rd wheel, and solo'd across the gap, never saw those guys again. That was fun as hell.

Next best experience was working with the 2nd group on the road once I caught them, we had the best paceline I've ever participated in going; there were about 14 riders and everyone was working well together hammering trying to catch the lead group. 40 miles into the race we were down to about 7-8 guys and had the gap down to about 1-2 minutes with the lead group of about 25 riders and wheel cars in sight but we had burned ourselves out pretty well and the group lost motivation to keep chasing hard so we gave up the chase, and my group ended up finishing 4-5 minutes behind the lead group. On my end, I had destroyed myself by mile 57, hit the wall hard, got dropped on the descent before last big climb, and trickled in 2 minutes behind my group, but overall it was a great experience. I just wasn't prepared for racing that distance yet, my longest ride previous to Battenkill had been Barry-Roubaix at 35 miles. But I'd still do it again in a heartbeat.

This race really taught me a lot about the importance of cooperation during races, it pays huge dividends to implement the pacelining and other strategies that we practice in training, also communication is absolutely key. In the group I was in, we all discussed the strategy for trying to bring the lead group back and how we were going to work as a group to get it done, and everyone cooperated really well, nobody was sitting in and everyone was equally dedicated to the task at hand. Nobody attacked up the hills because we knew that we would just all be getting back together at the top to continue the chase. We talked about when to accelerate, when to back it down, and of course gave good indications of when wheels were clear, last in line, etc. It was probably one of the best cycling experiences of my life.