30 June 2008

Bloggin from the Road III: The Mounains






Since I'd punished myself pretty severely on Pilot Mountain, I thought I'd follow that up with something even more punishing. Yep...brutal.

So, I had most of the day off on Sunday (was done with work by about 10:30AM). This left me plenty of time for a BIG ride. Well...I planned a big ride. But, I'm a big wuss...so it turned in to a medium ride.

Anyway...I drove west from Winston-Salem to about 20 miles west of Asheville (right past the future sight of the JDRF ride). I found the Blue Ridge Parkway and went for a ride...and, what a ride it was.

I started at the Visitor Center at Waterrock Knob which is at an elevation of roughly 6000'...yep...WAY up there. I parked my van in the clouds. Hopped out...and went for a ride.

I took the bike out of the back of the rental van and....rear tire was flat. Crap! Well, I have my spare tube. But that didn't leave me any spare for the ride. I was going to be at the mercy of fate. Yikes...it was going to be a long hike back to my van if I blew out a tire on the side of the mountain. But, I decided to risk it. So, I changed the tire and hit the road.

What an astonishing ride!! The first 8 miles were down the mountain...descending almost 4000 feet to Balsam gap along the Parkway. I AVERAGED about 35-40 mph on the way down...and I didn't even pedal. Hah... that was fun!

On the other side of the gap it started to rain on me as I started to climb. I went up toward the Richland Balsam Overlook...the highest point on the Parkway at about 6300' of elevation. It was about a 10 mile climb that included a bunch of overlooks (I took advantage of all of them for some rest) and tunnel long enough that it was pitch black in the middle. I kept climbing...but, wow, once I was past abut 4000' it got really tough. I didn't think the elevation and thinner air would effect me that much...but, it did. I'm a huge wuss!!

It was interesting being in a storm on top of a mountain...it didn't really rain down on me. It just sort of rained from every direction. The water just sort of appeared rather than falling. It was a strange sensation....the temp was cold and the rain made it worse. I was legitimately concerned about how I would keep warm on the descent (luckily I brought my Zephyr. Thanks MC!).

Anyway... the overlook at the top took forever to reach and I thought I was going to die several times along the way. Sadly, it was a little anti-climactic when I reached the top...I was in a cloud and couldn't see more than about 10 feet. Bummer.

I stood there gasping for breath and waiting for scenery for about 5 minutes before I started to get too cold. So, I decided to start heading down the mountain...and got even colder. Hypothermia was beginning to become a real concern. And, I was nearly out of water. And, I still had a 3500' climb ahead of me to get back to my car. Things weren't looking good. Especially with no spare tube.

I finally reached the bottom of my descent and the air warmed up significantly...I was getting a little sprinkle on me. But, it wasn't bad and the warm air was wonderful. I crossed the gap again...knowing that I had about 8 miles of climb ahead of me. The first 4-5 miles of which would be in reasonable temps...after that. Things were going to get bad. I figured the only way to stay warm enough was to keep pedaling. No matter how much it hurt. But, it REALLY hurt of a while there.

I spent the next hour of my life pondering what sort of a drooling moron parks at the TOP of the mountain. I had every opportunity to park at the bottom...DUH!

About half way up to my van I was spent....I'd already ridden about 30 miles, climbed a mountain, and still had 4 miles and half a mountain to go. I just didn't think I was going to make it. I was taking breaks whenever I reached an overlook, which was about every 1/2 to 3/4 of a mile. But, even that was becoming a too long a stretch to climb. Every time I stopped I got cold. Every time I started again was too exhausted to continue...I was totally out of water starting on ascent back to my van, so I'd been riding hard for a long while with no water.

I finally pulled in to an overlook with about 2 miles to go. I was convinced I couldn't go on and was standing there wondering what to do. If I sat still too long I was going to freeze. But, my legs just weren't willing to go much farther.

A truck pulls up next to me as I was standing there in this stupor. The driver said hi and asked how I was doing. Blearily I noticed that he had a Trek US Postal Service bike mounted in the back of the truck. I just shook my head...I wasn't doing well. But, I didn't know what to say...I was too tired to think.

"You need water" he said...half question, half statement. I just nodded in response. He hopped out of the truck with a gallon jug of water and filled my bottles for me.

"Where you headin?" He asked.

I informed him with slurred speech that I had parked my van at Waterrock. He laughed..."don't ever park at the top man. Leave your car at the bottom so that you know you can make it back".

I nodded...understanding that I had just learned a lesson, but too tired to really say thanks for the advice.

"You're gonna get cold if you stand too long. You don't have too far to go. Better get pedaling."

He must have seen the despair on my face...

"You can do it. It's not long now." he said

So, with his water and his encouragement helping me out I started up the mountain again. I drank about 1/2 the bottle of water and felt better almost immediately. My cadence picked up and my speed picked up a little (10 mph vs. 6 mph). Soon, I heard an engine behind me...cars had were infrequent on the parkway and most passed slowly, so I didn't pay it much attention. But, he was back there for a long while. I was too tired to look back or wave him by me...so, I just hugged the right edge of the pavement and tried to speed up a little. Soon, he passed....it was the guy in the truck. Apparently turned around and went back up the mountain to make sure I was going to be OK...at this point I was only about 1/2 mile from my van and must have looked like I was going to finish because he passed me. A nod and a friendly wave as he went by...and he was gone.

I made it back to my van. Got out of my wet clothes ASAP, and turned on the heat in the van. I sat and rested for a little bit...wow. What a ride.

Finally I decided to leave....so, I took a couple pictures of the cloud I was inside of...so, basically a grey photo, then took off. About 2 miles down the mountain I heard a loud "psssssshhhttttt". I looked back and my back tire had gone flat....so, the spare flatted too.

So, I guess I was left wondering...

What if that guy hadn't come along and encouraged me and gave me some water?

What if that back tire had blown on my way up the mountain...or worse, on my way down about 40mph?


I added some pictures...

25 June 2008

Bloggin from the Road 2: The Hills

I'm a dork. It's not exactly a newsflash, I know. But, I thought I would just put that announcement out there.


Pilot Mountain:
Ok...so, some phone calls to various individuals has put out a rumor that I MAY have ridden up a significant hill. I would like to take this opportunity to confirm the rumors.

And...just to prove I'm not making this part up...here is a link to that ride on my training blog.


I actually planned this ride ahead of time. I intentionally (much to my wife's confusion)planned to ride up this mountain. And, yes, it is a mountain. It is a hill big enough to actually be named as a "mountain". Pilot Mountain, in fact.

As the name implies...this was significantly bigger than a "hill". With my current riding experience, the largest hills I've encountered thus far have been in the form of highway overpasses, or the occasional climb away from the Rogue River in Rockford. I now amusingly refer to those as "climbs".

I thought I was ready. I thought I was in good enough physical condition on the bike that I could handle the ride up the mountain. I wasn't expecting to sprint up. And, I knew it was going to hurt. But, I thought I could handle it. But, I had NO IDEA what a real climb was like.

I knew it was going to hurt. But, it hurt 10x more than I imagined it could. I knew it would be hard. I knew I was going to suffer. But, I didn't really know....I THOUGHT I knew. Now that I've done it.... I realize that I had no idea at all.

The truth is this. It was 2400 ft. tall... that the ride from the base to the top was 2.5ish miles and (according to the sign as you leave the small parking lot at the top) averages a 10% grade.

By way of comparison the only way that I was able to put it in perspective while doing it, and the only way to explain it now is this...the hills I've ridden over the last year. The hill climbing out of the Grand River Valley just West of Jenison (up Bauer Rd or Fillmore Rd), a the hills on the Holland group rides, a couple of the hills during the JDRF training ride in Rockford....they obstacles to speed. Speed bumps as it were. They required effort to ascend...but, the effort, for me, was primarily related to maintaining a reasonable pace while going up. The difficulty was about the significant increase in effort required to maintain a good pace.

Going up Pilot Mountain...the effort, which cannot really be fairly compared, was not in the difficulty of increased effort to maintain your pace. The difficult came in maintaining A pace. ANY pace. Immediately after beginning the climb I knew I was in trouble...why? Because, I had to go almost directly to my small ring and larges cog with almost no pausing on other gears along the way. Unlike "climbing" in my previous experience, I was not going up hill in the big ring for a while before needing to drop down to small ring....then, eventually, to a larger cog. This pain was immediate and overwhelming...I went directly to the easiest gear I owned...and, it didn't really help. I stood up...and, in my easiest gear, churning as hard as I could, was BARELY able to make forward progress. It was devastatingly difficult. Just remaining in motion was difficult on a massive level...I had to stop. In fact, I had to stop several times. I believe I stopped 5 times along the way...meaning I stopped on an average of about every 1/2 mile. My heart rate was completely maxed out each time I stopped...I would rest for 30 seconds, take a drink, let my HR return to somewhere near my LT, then start again. The trip seemed to take forever.

Obviously reaching the summit was a great feeling. But, there was just no way I was going to quit. After having my heart feel like it was going to explode out of my chest...I wasn't going to waste all that effort by quiting half way up the mountain. So, I kept going....one agonizing pedal stroke at a time.

Probably the most cruel part of the whole thing was how unprepared I was for how steep the climb was and how that would effect my ability to continue. When my heart maxed out the first time...I took a break. It was disappointing because I had hoped to make the climb all in one shot (oh, how naive I was!), but I had to relent and rest for a few seconds. But, to add insult to injury, when I got back on the bike to continue up the mountain I found that I couldn't....get back on the bike that is. The hill was too steep to get enough forward momentum out of a single pedal stroke to allow me to balance the bike and clip in the other foot. I literally started to roll backward as I urgently tried to clip my foot in...a recipe for death when you have a 200' fall about 3' to your right. Much to my shame was forced to walk the bike to the other side of the little road and point it down hill long enough to clip-in...then, turn the bike around and ride up the hill. How insulting...and I thought I was going to make it up the mountain in one ride. Ha!

Obviously I'm taking some pride in this experience...after all... I DID ride to the top of a mountain. So, it was a good learning experience. However...

The most disheartening part of this experience was that I know how small this "mountain" actually is. It's tiny by comparison...truly. Which just about makes me want to cry. The climb I made was roughly 750 meters up. An astonishing height in my experience. But, compare it to the Alpe d'Huez...one of the more famous climbs...which is a climb that is more than 8 miles long and which "averages" an 8.1% grade but has moments where the grade is well above the 10% I experienced. The total ascent is over 1800 meters tall...2.5x the height of my climb. In short, it dwarfs Pilot Mountain. And, that just about makes me want to cry.

I suppose I should take some solace in the fact that I'll never have to climb Alpe d'Huez, and therefore comparisons are useless. I was sort of dreamily hoping that my riding down here in the heat and the hills, climbing Pilot Mountain, was going to make me stronger. That when I return to Michigan I'd have made some real gains in my fitness level...but, I don't think I will.

But, I do think I've gained one thing. I'm probably not going to be any stronger up the hills in my area when I get home. Physically, I won't have gained much, if anything. But, still...mentally, I know what it feels like to climb now. And, strangely, that makes a difference to me. Having gone up a mountain doesn't really make me any faster going up the hill on the overpass. But, it does put that overpass in perspective...so, mentally I'm probably a bit stronger. I think that will make a big difference.

I found this article written about climbing pilot Mountain. This made me feel slightly better about my peformance.

Riding Alone in an unfamiliar land:
One of the experiences that I've had while down here is that I've ridden all alone, in unfamiliar places, in unfamiliar territory, on roads I don't know, and on geography I don't understand. The whole experience can be a bit disconcerting. Knowing that if it weren't for my GPS I'd be completely lost. That even with my GPS...I might still get completely lost.

Every road here is winding. Every road leads to nowhere...there is no grid and no logic to where things go. You cannot simply go out for a ride...head West, turn North, turn East, and eventually turn South to get back home. It doesn't work that way. You can turn North on a road and have it end up taking you well south or west or east.

The net effect of this is at it can be a bit spooky out there...I mean, I'm in hill country of god-knows-where...houses only come along about once a mile or so...and, most of them are trailers. If I were to "disappear" on these roads...no one would ever find me. In fact, it would be a long while before anyone would ever know to look for me.

On the other hand, this terrain makes for ideal riding. The views are always exciting, the road is never boring...constant rolling hills and winding in and out of forests, farms, vineyards, and past historic log cabins and old churches...its beautiful.

The most frustrating part of all this beauty is that I've had no one to share it with. Seems like a small thing. And, it might not have been the kind of thing that would have bothered me in the past. Still...I find it irksome now. One might make the argument that I should just be living in the moment and riding for myself. That if the scenery is beautiful, that fact alone should be enough to cause me to be content.

Still, I've grown rather accustomed to riding past interesting things and being able to discuss it with MC, or J2 (John Jasker!), or JD, or Carmen, Da'Ve, or Aaron, or whomever...it's just been a part of my routine for the last 6 months. And, I've rather gotten to enjoying that part of my routine. I like that when I see a beautiful sunset, I'm not the only one enjoying it.

So, I'm riding on all these great roads, seeing all this great stuff, and...I have no one to share it with. I crossed over the Yadkin River a couple times during my rides. And, I'm reasonable astonished by the fact that I will just be out in the middle of nowhere, on a road that the State of Michigan wouldn't have even bothered paving, and all of a sudden there will be this bridge that is 1/4 mile long over a beautiful river. You've got to be kidding me. I want to stop and take in the sights and sounds...I want to lean over to J2 and say "can you believe this?". But, he's not there. Neither is MC, nor Da'Ve, nor Aaron, nor Carmen, nor DID...nor anyone else. It's just me.

It's pretty. But, it's lonely.

I've loved the scenery. I've loved the riding. But...I think I'll trade the hills, the woods, the vineyards, and the scenery for being able to ride with my friends again.

21 June 2008

Bloggin from the Road

Well...I'm in Winston-Salem, NC...and, I'm blogging.

Since this will annoy MC...here are the details. I'm am sitting in a Barnes & Noble, laptop in front of me, getting my WiFi on...sipping on English tea and munching a cinnamon scone. Ha...high brow dorktitude!

Anyway...work sucks. But, things appear to be improving. So, I'll leave subject alone for now.

My bike arrived here in relatively good shape. No major issues that I can find...I got it assembled without too much trouble. The only potential issue I found was that there was a small creaking noise coming from the front end while riding...couldn't pin down whether it was from the fork or the handlebars...so, I probably just need to tighten something a little.

I've only had the chance for one ride so far...but, what a ride!

Holy crap is this place gorgeous...I did a little search on http://www.mapmyride.com/ and found a 28 mile loop that is reasonably close to where I'm located. Mind you...this wasn't the "best loop in the area", or some mythic ride that a local pointed me toward. This was just a random loop I found on the website that roughly matched the distance I wanted to do. But, the result was astonishing...what a loop!!

In West Michigan, this would have been the best loop for a hundred miles in any direction. People would drive for hours to go do this ride...yet, it is just another boring ride for this area. Astonishing!

Good hills...nothing huge...about 5-600 feet of elevation change for the whole ride. But, all the roads around here are winding. So, that makes it cool. I was cutting through little passes and hills, through woods, glens, across desolate bridges over beautiful rivers, near huge horse farms and small wheat fields, I passed a huge number of vineyards and small orchards. Old churches, and farm houses...little, tiny villages. It was astonishingly beautiful. It made me never want to leave...at least, for a short period of time. Then I had to go back to work.

I'm hoping to get back out this afternoon...maybe I'll try another loop. Maybe not. What are the odds I'm going to find something prettier?

I might have the time to do a longer ride tomorrow. So, I'm making some tentative plans to drive a little north and west and see if I can park at one of the State Parks or National Forests. I'm going to try to find a suitable chunk of the Blue Ride Parkway to ride...I'd love to go ride some mountain tops if I can. We'll see.

06 June 2008

Sunday Ride

I'm looking to do a ride on Sunday and thought some of my fellow JDRF'ers might too. So, I'm going to host an impromptu ride this coming Sunday.

I'll be hosting it from Hager Park in Jenison/Georgetown township. My plan is to get started at about noon.

The plan, at the moment, would be to a ride of abut 60 miles or so. But, it would have Grand Haven as the halfway mark. I'd probably want to stop for a little lunch and relaxation. Enough to recover for the ride home.

My route will take us out past GVSU, then north to Leonard. Leonard all the way to Grand Haven. Lunch. Then, back home along the south side of the river and back in to Jenison. Total route shows 58.87 miles...but, would include enough rest time in Grand Haven to allow for a little recovery.

If there is some interest...I think it would be fun. If not...well...I'll do it by myself darned it. I still think it will be fun!

01 June 2008

Maybe I'm asking too much

Why can't every day be like today?

I know...it's probably asking too much. But, wow...what a day. Gorgeous weather, good friends to ride with, great route to ride, family to hang out with, good food, good conversation...

So, here I sit, on my back patio. I'm sort of half way between sleep and conciousness. Seems like I've been working an awful lot lately...which is to be expected. Sleep has been in short supply (though, nothing like having a baby around the house like Ted Bentley. I'm sure he's sleeping less than me. Hi Ted!).

As I drowsily sit looking out across my domain...all 15 feet of it. I'm thinking...what a great day. Got my work done early this morning. Came back to the house and got ready for the JDRF Training ride in Holland. And, hung out with the kids for a bit.

Around nooner, we packed up the van and ventured to Holland. Karin and the kids hung out at the beach and wandered around downtown a bit.

I clipped and went out for a ride on my favorite loop... the Hutchins Lake loop south of Holland. What a blast. JDRF gang was in full effect.

Got to ride with MC, Linda, Brian, Heather, Carmen, TB, JJ and JJ (yes, that is John Jasker...in case Skip is listening), Da'Ve, and a bunch of others who's name would require thought beyond my semi-sleep conciousness right now.

We did 42-ish miles in gorgeous weather. Sun was out, light wind...beautiful scenery...what can I say? It couldn't have been better.

After the ride we hung at MC's house and ate mexican food from the grill.

Would you like a 3rd helping of Fajita Ross?

Don't mind if I do!

After that...sleep was setting in fast. So, we wandered back home. And, now I'm sitting on the back patio in this wonderful weather. Blogging and dozing. Soaking up the last of the sunshine for the day. Sucking down some water. And...making paper airplanes with Davis.

Time for a "who can throw their plane farther contest"...

later.