Adventures on a Bike » Monster Climbs

Buon giorno, signor Basso

Arlyn — Wed, 09 Jun 2010 03:00:46 +0000

I was on a solo breakaway suicide mission and didn’t care. I was maybe 2 minutes off the front of a twelve man chase group on the final day of our 2010 Monster Climbs trip to the high Sierras. There was really no reason for me to be out front, I was having a terrible weekend fitness-wise.

Friday’s ride up Onion Valley Road was fun and uneventful. Climbing 5,000 feet up the 5th best road climb in the US was very enjoyable. I pootled up alongside my friend MickeyGow, saving myself for Saturday’s Queen Stage.

Atop Onion Valley with my DirtBro MickeyGow

The wheels came off the bus on Saturday’s ride to Pine Creek. I started out feeling average, but instead of getting better as I warmed up, things got steadily worse until I was struggling to produce power going less than 5mph at around 45rpm. It was clear that I had fallen off the Razors Edge.

The Razor’s Edge is that narrow range of fitness where you are working hard enough to keep improving, but not so hard that you get overtired. I was obviously overtired and the more I pedaled, the deeper I dug myself. I bailed on the big climb for the day up Rock Creek (20 miles and 7,000ft) for some quiet poolside rest.

And that’s how I found myself just a little fresher than everyone else at the start of the final day, climbing 19 miles to Lake Sabrina. I knew they’d catch me; it was just a matter of time. Looking at my power meter it was clear I wasn’t producing much more power than the day before, the Descenders peloton was simply taking their time to reel me back in.

Here I’m using my camera to check how far back the chasers are without giving them the satisfaction of turning around. They were still a long ways back…

Ahead I saw a rider, pootling even slower than me. From a distance he looked very fit with good form, just moving very slowly. As I got closer, I could see his kit was Italian – meaning he was either authentically Italian or just a Wanna-be Guido. Then he stopped in the middle of the road and took a piss. Not in the bushes, or even on the gravel in the shoulder, but right there on the tarmac in the middle of the road. This convinced me he was truly Italian and probably from the southern end of that amazing country.

Passing the rider, I said “Buon giorno” and received an undecipherable reply. Looking at his face for the first time I realized who the rider must be. It was none other than Ivan Basso himself, probably on a recovery ride after winning the Giro d’Italia last month! I had just passed (neh, dropped!) one of the most legendary cyclists of our time! The only man to ever challenge Lance Armstrong in the high mountains. Basso was going off the back, unable to maintain my relentless pace.

Signore Basso attacking The Boss…

Don’t you love it how cycling uphill at high elevation makes you a bit batty in the head?

I continued on enjoying the beautiful scenery, watching pine trees replace the chapparel as I steadily made my way upward. I was caught by my team at some point and summarily dropped. Ivan was in the group chatting amicably with a few of my teammates. I supposed they were congratulating him on his Giro win and speculating his chances for beating Contador at le Tour next month.

A little later, my friend MickeyGow caught me up and together we rode the last four miles to Lake Sabrina. It was truly a great afternoon cycling among some of the most beautiful country California has to offer.

At the Precipice – Riding Sonora Pass

Arlyn — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 04:41:19 +0000

The air is chilly at 9,628 feet atop Sonora Pass in California’s Sierra Nevada Mountains. I’d spent the last hour and a half climbing ever so slowly to the pass and now I was considering the unthinkable – descending the other side.

“This has got to be the craziest thing I’ve ever done on a bike.”

Author’s Note: The events of this story occurred last July 4th. With my Leadville preparations, I didn’t write as much as I’d have liked and honestly, I can’t get this moment out of head, so here it is.

“Whatever goes down must come back up” I chuckled nervously to myself. My iPhone still had no signal, even way up here. If I needed to call the “Team Van” for help, I was going to have to find a payphone and there’s not very many payphones in the middle of the National Forest.

With 26% grades, as narrow as a european mountain road and twisty as a pretzel, Sonora Pass Road ain’t just any road.

Sonora Pass Road is not your average road. It’s so steep I wonder if my bike can make it – up to 26% gradient in places and while it technically allows two-lane traffic, the road is so narrow SUV’s slow down to pass each other going in opposite directions. The road turns so sharply in places that you’ll see cars almost stop going around corners. It’s a true mountain road and it’s beautiful.

It looked like the road dropped off a cliff going over the far side of the pass. I had already climbed the Eastern side with 3,000 of elevation gain. The Western side was 4,000 feet of gain. My legs were tired from a week of hard riding in the Sierras, yet I was resolute.

Quickly and without thinking much about it, I got back on my bike and rolled down the Western side of Sonora Pass. My bike zipped down the steep road and soon I was carving asphalt corners at 40mph. To my left, the road dropped into oblivion. A narrow gorge had been cut over the past several thousand years by a rushing creek far below. I could hear the water crashing downhill, cutting its way through granite channels in dense, green forests. This was now the Western Sierra, much greener and lush than the Eastern side because of the rain shadow the high-altitude ridgeline cast.

With 2,000 feet to go and legs tired of climbing, I decided it was time for a movie-stop.

Looking down the valley I would need to climb back up.The farther I went down, the more anxious I got about the return climb. I saw every corner and steep section as an obstacle for my return. I eyeballed my odometer wondering when I could turn around. The road finally flattened out and if I wasn’t mostly out of water I would have turned around instantly. Out here in the middle of nowhere, the next services were 6 miles ahead so on I pedaled, all the while getting more and more nervous about how far I was getting from home.

Heading down the road I would inevitable need to climb on the way home.

I finally made it to a general store at some kind of fishing camp which was crowded with all kinds of tourists. I wobbled my lycra-clad way in on cleats and purchased some water. I received plenty of odd looks, I don’t think many cyclists make it out this far. The only thing I could think about was that monstrous 4,000 foot climb ahead of me. Would I be able to handle it after 50 miles? I was quietly freaking out…

It’s rides like this that help you develop an unhealthy relationship to your bike.

Outside, while filling up my food and water bottles some fat guy slurping a big soft-serve cone observed that I didn’t really have to purchase bottled water, there was a perfectly good tap out back. And wasn’t it all these environmentalists who forced us to spend money on essentially a free resource. I smiled, shrugged and kept filling my bottles. He kept at it and after another minute or so I was ready to unleash all my internal anxiety, fear and stress on him by beating him resoundingly with my bicycle. But then how would I get home? I corralled my emotions and rolled back to the highway.

Finally, I was heading home. Six miles back to the base of the climb, then I stare fixedly at the altimeter knowing I need to top out at 9,628. That seems like a long way when you’re only in the 6,000’s. I make every hundred feet of climbing into a victory and audibly cheer myself on with corny exclamations like, “Good job, one hundred feet!” and “Hooray, you passed the 7,000 mark!” It was a major victory getting to the “1,000 feet to go” point. With each pedal stroke I knew I was closer to the top.

This video was shot while climbing the Eastern slope. Some of the country’s best fly fishing is down there.

I rounded the last corner and was back at the pass. I stopped to refill my food bottle and a very grungy looking backpacker shot out of the woods, crossed the road to me and asked wildly if I’d seen a group of other guys hitch a ride. I said I’d only just gotten here and he dashed off, running down the trail. About five minutes later, a very grungy looking young woman came running out of the forest and crossed the road with her backpack flapping as she ran – had I seen a group of guys catch a ride? I told her about the first guy and she started yelling names in all directions, calling for her friends. I pointed which way the other guy ran and she dropped her pack and took off at full speed down the trail yelling at the top of her lungs. I still have no idea what their deal was.

An older woman approached me as I readied to roll back down the Eastern side. Her husband stood off at a distance looking embarrassed, but she had a thousand questions. Had I really ridden up the road? Was I some sort of professional like Lance? Did I have special gears? She said her husband thought I was a “strong man” for riding my bike up here. He pretended to examine a tree off in the distance while she got her answers. I wasn’t strong, I told her, just stubborn. I thanked her and set off down the road home. They followed me for a couple miles down the descent and then passed only when they could give me wide enough berth. The husband goggled me and the wife waved excitedly. Wow, cool.

It doesn’t look very steep in this photo, does it?

I rocketed off Sonora Pass quietly confident. All my stress, fear and anxiety were gone. At the end of the day, I had ridden 92 miles and climbed 9,700 feet in 7 hours and 42 minutes. I was solidly on track for Leadville the following month.

With the climbing over for the day, I can appreciate the serene meadow. Our cabin is in the hills in the distance.

Monster Climbs III – San Diego

Arlyn — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 23:44:43 +0000

The series of thunderstorms that passed through California last week, giving San Diego such strange May weather wreaked havoc on our Monster Climbs plans. Instead of radiant sunshine and azure skies in the Eastern Sierras, it looked like we’d be in for rain, snow, wind and 35f temps in the high-altitude passes. To save the trip, Voris (trip captain) re-organized everything to base out of Death Valley instead of Bishop. That’s where I chickened out and bailed.

Instead, I planned my own little 3-day Monster Climbs adventure here in San Diego. I missed being with the team, but was glad for the company of my Dirt Bros and enjoyed recovering at home instead of at a motel.

Day 1 – South Grade of Palomar

The South Grade of Palomar Mountain is often compared to Alpe d’Huez, a legendary climb in the Tour de France. Having climbed both on a bike a couple of times, I can confirm the similarity with the exception that the 21 corners of L’Alpe are almost flat, making the ramps steeper when you consider the average gradient. Palomar is almost perfectly the same gradient throughout.

Mark and I parked at the casino at the bottom and headed straight up. The idea was to use the 6,000 feet of climbing Palomar as a warm up for the weekend. I was hoping to pootle to the top, but Mark set a nasty pace right away. Knowing I could only hold that pace for a few more minutes, I went to the front to slow it down. I got lucky in that Mark decided to sit in rather than drop me right then and there. He’s nice that way.

Up and up we pedaled, each lost in our own iPod playlists. It was nice and quiet – I guess the Moto-GP guys don’t get Friday’s off. About halfway up, I was feeling ok and began to plan my attack. I thought Mark might have some weakness near the top so I resolved to attack as we passed the 5,000 foot sign, about a mile from the top.

With 5,000 feet of climbing in 21 switchbacks, Palomar is very similar to Alpe d’Huez

Mark beat me to the punch, launching a voracious attack with several miles to go. I went with him and was able to keep his wheel. I prayed that he’d have to slow down soon and he did. Hoping that he was spent from the attack, I counter-attacked, but Mark kept my wheel. Still convinced he was on his last gas, I pushed hard one more time, but it turned out that I was the one on the edge and I imploded. Mark went right around me. I still got about 1:30 for the South Grade which is not a personal record, but not bad either.

Mark pedals the final meters to the Palomar Observatory

We moseyed up to the high point and did a lap to the Observatory before heading back down the grade to the car. All in all, we got 6,147 feet of climbing in just 38 miles over 3:06. Nice warm up.

Day 2 – Epic Mountain Bike Adventure

I love Saturday morning epic mountain bike adventures with Mark and Andy and last Saturday did not disappoint. As we headed out to Cuyamaca under blustery skies, my thoughts were with the Descenders. If we were getting weather this far south, I wondered what it must be like in Death Valley – hopefully no wind or rain.

The Dirt Bros at one of our (glorious) rest stops

Mark, Andy and I headed east on new trails, bound for Indian Creek and the famous Noble Canyon descent. We stopped along the way to chat with and get directions from other riders. I was very happy for the stops as Mark was continuing to push a hard pace – when does that kid slow down?

Gotta love Cuyamaca – the weather made it even more beautiful

Awesome singletrack trails led us to Deer Park fire road and the start of the Indian Creek trail that would lead us to the top of Noble Canyon. A narrow swath of rocky singletrack lead ominously uphill into the scrub. Up and up that trail went, like the rocky spine of some ancient dragon. Mark and Andy have much better skills than I and motored ahead while I was forced to stop and negotiate several obstacles on foot. This was by far, the most technical climbing I’ve ever done. Absolutely relentless as well – it took me 35 minutes to travel just 1.8 miles up that hill.

Don’t try this with 50psi, that’s for sure

Taking a picture of this switchback was the perfect excuse for a break

Finally at the top, we decided to bomb down Noble Canyon, a legendary singletrack descent with sections named “Stairway to Hell”, “Barney Rubble” and “The Widow Maker”. Yeah, right… Mark and Andy sped off with their “mad descending skills”, leaving me to pick my way down in quiet solitude. Honestly, 95% of Noble Canyon is super-fun twisty-turny singletrack running through oak and pine forest, opening to chaparral and scrub at the bottom. It’s the 5% that makes the trail treacherous and kept me on my toes. Go flying around a sharp corner to find a 6-foot rocky dropoff – oh, is that stump actually used as a ramp? Wow.

Near the bottom, I found Mark and Andy waiting at a creek crossing. Mark had an owie from one of the obstacles and you could tell that the fun had worn off. We continued down the canyon and took the early exit to start making our way back to Cuyamaca.

Mine is the orange one

Deer Park Road is paved until you get to the “Big Oak Tree” with sections as steep as 15-20% and is a nice way to warm up the legs after the Noble downhill (not!). We picked our way west back to Cuyamaca, the car and all that cold beer. I was feeling good and there was no good reason not to leave it all on the trail so I attacked right off the front. It felt really good to be hammering so I kept it up, all the way to the top of the ridge. I looked back and realized I was finally putting the hurt on Mark so I let out some kind of rebel yell, I was almost at the point of laughing – funny how after 5 hard hours on the bike you can feel so good. Mark caught me on the descent into Cuyamaca, which is expected. He’s ballsier than I am.

What a beautiful day

We re-grouped at the highway and took the singletrack back towards the car, passing several runners participating in the San Diego 100 Mile Endurance Run – seriously – 100 miles?!? They were at mile 46 or so and some looked fresh and others looked to be struggling. The winner finished in a little over 18 hours so everyone planned on running all night. Yeah, that’s just crazy…

The trails that connect Laguna and Cuyamaca are awesome

We continued toward the car, being careful to give the runners the right of way. Still feeling good, I waited patiently for another opportunity to hammer and got it when we turned off the runner’s course and onto the last 2-mile stretch of singletrack leading to the parking lot. I gave it everything I had, feeling really good again. Mostly flat with lots of twists, this section is one of my favorites. Splashed through the creek, gingerly negotiated the switchbacks and zoomed the final turns.

Mmm, Levitation Ale and a handmade BLT with turkey

Cold beer and an awesome lunch awaited (thanks Tami!). Does it get better? Day 2 totals: 35.5 miles and 5,945 feet climbed in 6:08.

Day 3 – Pie Run to Julian

I love riding to Julian and I always suffer on the way home. I couldn’t find anyone to join me, but was looking forward to the six hours of solitude on the bike.

I got ALL the town signs

After 10 solid hours of sleep and a leisurely morning, I set out to Pie Town. I kept the pace moderate, knowing it’s all about getting home and the last 2,000 feet of climbing. I was hoping that my new nutrition plan would keep me feeling good all day. If I am to survive Leadville, I’ll need to be able to ride for up to 12 hours and I’ve always had trouble around hour 5. Today would be a test.

There’s something about this tree…

The miles drifted along and soon I was climbing out of the Ramona basin toward Santa Ysabel. I chatted with another rider for awhile who turned out to be Tony Ellsworth of Ellsworth Bikes. He’s a heck of a nice guy, I’m going to have to check out his MTB line. It’s cool to have a bike manufacturer in town.
I didn’t set any records to the top of Old Julian Highway, but that’s ok. I kept rolling on to Santa Ysabel and was still good on water so I decided not to stop and just roll up the grade to Julian. Left turn on Wynola Road for the bonus miles and to avoid some traffic. Wynola is one of my favorite roads – it’s so picturesque. Very nice to climb and descending is very exciting.

Favorite town sign of the day

Rolled into downtown Julian a little after 3 hours, sent a text to the fam, turned around and headed for home. I don’t really take the time to eat the pie anymore, the break seizes my legs up and the pie is good, but not what I need to get home.

Every time I head to Julian I tell myself that I can get bonus miles by coming home via Highland Valley Road. But every time I get to the HVR turnoff on the way home, I’m feeling so horrid all I want to do is crawl into ditch for a nap. So, I never take the bonus miles. Last Sunday, I felt great and turned onto Highland Valley; one of San Diego’s best cycling roads. Twisty, steep and in the middle of almost nowhere, it’s majestic. Lucky to be climbing the shallow side, I enjoyed the exciting 40mph descent, even powering up several of the “attack ramps” – places where the road briefly turns uphill during the descent where you can gain time on others by hammering.

Wynola Road is one of my all-time favorite roads

Finally deposited on Pomerado Road, I began the final 10-mile push home. I passed a tandem going uphill at about mile 85 and they passed me on the downhill. Weariness was finally working into my legs and I was happy to jump on their wheel for the draft. They turned off at the bottom of the final 350-foot climb up Pomerado Road. At mile 92, this hill causes me to re-think the decision to buy the house I did. The houses at the bottom of the hill are just as nice…

Still felt good going uphill so I pushed it and found some reasonable power. Very nice. Totals for day were 93 miles and 7,831 feet climbed in 6:38.

In The End…

I got some emails and photos from the Descenders saying how great their Death Valley trip turned out. Awesome, I’m really glad it worked out. And I’m really stoked to have gotten in 159 miles with 19,926 feet of climbing over almost 16 hours of saddle time.

Perfect training for Leadville.

Monster Climbs III

Arlyn — Tue, 05 May 2009 23:45:39 +0000

Three days of road bike Monster climbs along Highway 395 of the Eastern Sierras between Big Pine and Mammoth Lakes. This trip is designed for over-the-hill polka dot wanna-bees looking for good company, no cars, and upward tilting pavement. 20,000 feet of climbing on 4 goliaths in under 140 miles jammed into just 3 days.

“Monster Climbs”… Let that sink in for a minute. These are no ordinary hills; we’re talking massive Goliaths, rising up to the heavens thanks to the miracle to continental drift and plate tectonics. The 3rd Annual Descenders Monster Climbs trip is only a month away – Here’s a course preview.

Day 1 – Big Pine Canyon to Glacier Lodge

This is our warm up climb, ridden after driving 5 hours up Hwy 395 to Big Pine, California. John Summerson ranked this climb #30 in his authoritative The Complete Guide to Climbing (By Bike). With a profile similar to Alpe d’Huez (10 miles and 3,750 feet of climbing) it should do well as the weekend’s appetizer.

Wow, that’s a lot of time in the red zone!

Quiet roads along peaceful pasture. Photo courtesy NorthEastCycling.com

A peek at the Monster. Photo courtesy Tour of California Cycling Blog

Morning of Day 2 – Pine Creek to the old Tungsten Mine

Now for the main course. The first of two Monsters for the day, Pine Creek is a favorite of locals in the Mammoth cycling club and climbs from 4,500’ to almost 8,000’ in just 10 miles.

The flats through Round Valley. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

Into the mouth of the Beast. Photo courtesy Tour of California Cycling Blog

Pine Creek Summit on a stormy day. Photo courtesy NorthEastCycling.com

Afternoon of Day 2 – Lower and Upper Rock Creek up Sherwin Grade

Now that our legs are warm from Pine Creek, it’s time to tackle Sherwin Grade, the first serious incline to be conquered when venturing into the Eastern Sierra. We will attack this 22-mile beast via Lower and Upper Rock Creek Road which becomes the highest paved road in California at 10,250’. After a short rest in the thin air, we’ll enjoy the 20-mile descent back to our motel in Bishop.

Pine Creek is really just a warm up for Rock Creek – and 90+ miles! It’s going to be a tough day.

Lower Rock Creek Road. Photo courtesy NorthEastCycling.com

Mosquito Flat. Photo courtesy Tour of California Cycling Blog

13,000 ft glaciers in the distance. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

Lower Rock Creek. Photo courtesy NorthEastCycling.com

Upper Rock Creek. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

Climbing Sherwin Grade. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

Day 3 – South and Sabrina Lakes

If our legs are not completely cranked off by the morning of Day 3, we’ll head out for more. It’s over 20 miles of climbing to get to South Lake, with road gradient ranging from 4-11%. Luckily, we won’t descend all the way back down before taking on the final climb to Lake Sabrina, a beautiful alpine lake. It’s all downhill from there.

Those early sections of 11% are going to be tough on sore legs.

Climbing to South Lake. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

The road to South Lake. Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

Are we there yet? Photo courtesy BikeCal.com

South Lake Summit. Photo courtesy NorthEastCycling.com

Beautiful South Lake. Photo courtesy Tour of California Cycling Blog

The finish area – it’s all downhill from here. Photo courtesy Steve’s Birthday Challenge

Cheers, can’t wait.

I’ve obviously borrowed some images from around the Internet. I am very grateful to the respective owners of these images and have done my best to provide proper attribution. If I’ve screwed something up, just contact me and I’ll fix it. Thanks!

Someday never happens

Arlyn — Sun, 04 Jan 2009 03:43:24 +0000

In 2008, I learned a little secret about life. ‘Someday’ never happens. As in, “Someday I’d like to cyclotour the Tour de France.” Or, “Someday I want to win a bike race.”

Your someday’s always stay in the future, safe and secure where they can’t bother anyone. The dirty secret is that we know they will never happen which make it a little disingenuous to say, “Someday I want …”

If you really wanted it to happen, you’d do it, right?

I used to think that someday I’d like to be able to ride a century and contribute to a charitable cause. In 2007, I committed to riding my first century and raising $400 for the National MS Society. I had never ridden more than 30 miles before and was plumb tuckered out at mile 30 so this was a huge goal. I had also never asked anyone for a donation before. Double huge goal.

I was surprised by what happened. I trained and trained and was soon strong enough for the ride. And I talked about how important it was to support the fight against MS and soon had raised $3,790. I realized that by committing myself, I put myself on the path to achieving it. I had turned my someday into a reality.

Our families gave us a ton of support to ride the MS Bike Tour

In 2008, I converted another someday. I used to watch coverage of the Tour de France and thought someday it’d be really cool to watch the Tour in person and cycle the famous roads they raced. I converted that someday into reality by signing up for a cyclotour to follow the 2008 Tour de France from Alpe d’Huez to Paris. The trip I chose included a couple of century days, some with over 10,000 feet of climbing. I was going to climb the famous French Alpine cols I had only seen on TV.

I had no reason to believe that I could withstand the kind of cycling this trip would offer. I was terrified that I would get to France without the right fitness and have to “get in the van” or skip riding opportunities. This fear of failure drove me to train like I have never trained.

But again, by committing, I was on the path to achieving. Within a couple of weeks of signing up I bumped into a friendly English chap on the 56 bike trail who seemed very strong. He invited me to ride with him and his friends. I was initially scared to ride with them, but accepted anyways. That became my first ride with the Descenders. On that first ride, Voris invited me to join their annual Monster Climbs trip. 22,000 feet of climbing on 4 Sierra Nevada Mountains in 140 miles jammed into just 3 days. It was terrifying and also the perfect training for France. Monster Climbs was where I gained the confidence to climb for hours and trust in my ability to recover.

Horseshoe Meadow Road looms in the distance as the Descenders prepare for a 10,000+ foot day.

By early summer, I was taking on all sorts of endurance challenges. I could ride a century every week. My epic rides to Julian for pie gave me confidence in my ability to suffer and endure.

My training paid off and, faster than I could imagine, I was pedaling up Alpe d’Huez, with the Col du Galibier, Col du Telegraph and Col de la Croix de Fer on the next day’s agenda. It was a spectacular week of cycling, truly a once-in-a-lifetime adventure.

That’s me on the Col du Galibier.

What’s for 2009? Well, the broad strokes are to keep the adventures alive by swinging for the fences. I’ve registered for my first USCF road race – and I’m scared out of my gourd that I’ll get dropped early. I can barely say, “I will win a bike race.” So I’m training intensely. I know I will love racing and I hope my fitness gets to where I can enjoy it from the pack at least.

I’ve also registered for the Leadville 100 mountain bike race in August and I’m confident that the stars will align and I’ll get accepted. I’ve registered for the Triple Bypass in July to get some high altitude training. And of course, there is Monster Climbs III in June with the Descenders.

I’m going to keep swinging for the fences. Somehow, it all works itself out.

Palomar Mountain

Arlyn — Sat, 20 Dec 2008 01:35:47 +0000

Palomar Mountain is one of the highest peaks in San Diego County, rising to 6,140 feet within sight of the Pacific Ocean. Its South Grade Road offers 4,700 feet of spectacular climbing over 13 miles. The upper section contains 21 switchbacks, making it a popular destination for both cyclists and motorcyclists.

According to the California Highway Patrol, there is an average of two motorcycle crashes on the South Grade Road any weekend the weather is nice. Of course, these are just the crashes that require medical assistance.

Did you know that the South Grade Road is listed as the 17th best climb in the U.S. in John Summerson’s The Complete Guide to Climbing (By Bike)?

The Queen Stage of the 2009 Amgen Tour of California has the pro peloton climbing Palomar at mile 43. What do you think it’s going to be like to be on the mountain? My personal record for climbing the South Grade is 1:26:37. I suppose the pros will easily beat an hour to the top.

Although I’ve never tried any, you can get a slice of pie at “Mother’s” near the summit. I hear they make good pie. After pie, you can head north to the Observatory for 3 miles of bonus climbing. Head back to Mothers then decide whether to take the South Grade back down or the longer, but less steep East Grade. Descending the South Grade is a blast, unless it’s cold. Then it’s just a nightmare of switchbacks, shivering, numb hands and muttered prayers.

Mark, Andy and I almost climbed Palomar this weekend. A plan was developed then unfortunately fell apart. We’ll get there soon.

I can’t wait.

Day 1 – Onion Valley

Arlyn — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 23:30:26 +0000

Impossible. It’s just not possible to ride my bike 140 miles over 4 of the top 10 climbs in the US for a total of 23,000 feet of elevation gain in just three days. That’s over 4 MILES of vertical gain! Impossible.

Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing.

- cheesy Adidas ad that I absolutely love

When I was invited to join the Descenders on their annual Monster Climbs trip I accepted immediately. This was just the kind of crazy stunt I needed to get me in shape for France. And at some point, climbing 23,000 feet in the eastern Sierra mountains became possible.

Day 1 – Onion Valley

Ten Descenders began the adventure on Friday morning, loading bikes and gear in cars and heading northbound on I-15 and then Hwy 395 to Lone Pine. The 4.5 hour drive seemed over before it began and soon I was kitting up, preparing for the first Monster, Onion Valley. This first climb was designed as a warm up for the group since we’d spent the day driving from sea level up to 4,000 feet. The road to Onion Valley is only 13 miles long and gains 5,000 feet of elevation up a series of switchbacks.

I was a bundle of nerves and doubts as the ten of us started out. There was a very brisk wind driving out of the NW and we we’re all being very cavalier about it, like “It’s just air!”. If this was a typical Saturday ride we might have cut it short or bailed completely, but we had just driven all day to get here – we could not quit.

Heading up the alluvial fan, I quickly found myself in my lowest gear (34×27) and began a ritual that would haunt me all weekend: double-checking that I was really in my lowest gear. I cannot count how many times I pressed those gear levers, hoping that a magical 11th gear would spontaneously generate itself. It never did, but I never stopped checking either.

I put myself in a small group with Voris and decided to pace with him to the top. No funny-business mind you, I was very intimidated by the steepness of the road and the 25+ mph wind only made things much harder. Because of the wind, the switchbacks alternated between being just steep and hard to being fairly ridiculous. Imagine being bent over your bars, in a paceline going a mere 4.5 mph turning 42 rpm on your smallest gear.

It got down to just Voris, Boyle and myself with Rick and Drew way up the road. Both Rick and Drew are supermen. They like riding with us, but when the fancy catches them, they just go up the road in the kind of style you might find at the Tour de France. Voris, Boyle and I summited together and I snapped this photo to prove I actually made it.

It was then that I realized I am a bit of a stubborn jackass. It was only around 60F and getting colder by the minute. I was soaking with sweat and with the wind howling, it was damn shivery. Everyone had said it was cold on top and to bring your jacket and arm/leg warmers. But standing at the bottom of the climb in 98F heat, it’s hard to understand and rather than trust the people who’ve done the climb before, I elected to save the 2.5oz of cold weather gear, leaving them in the van. That was the last time I made that mistake.

As soon as I started shivering on top I knew I had to descend to warmer climate. Go back and look at that photo of the switchbacks again. Imagine you’re freezing cold and absolutely flying down the steep, narrow road which has been pocked with gravel and rocks and split by heat-expansion cracks. When the wind has your back, it’s all you can do to keep your speed under 40 mph. When you come to a turn, the wind whips around and tries as hard as it can to shove you off the road. My hands ached from braking and I worried seriously about getting a flat from overheating my rims. Lower on the mountain, after the switchbacks, I began to warm up again and thought I was good. But the wind was still too random, jumping out at me like a linebacker. I’ve never steered and leaned so hard right and still gone left before. It was truly amazing. There is an unsubstantiated report of an unnamed Descender managing to record a top speed of 62mph on the descent – yikes! (Mom, it wasn’t me, I promise).

Here’s the elevation profile for Onion Valley – it’s an isosceles triangle

Once we all arrived back at the cars safely, the elation for what we had accomplished set in. We sped back to the motel in Lone Pine for beer, pizza and to watch Tour de France DVDs. Watching Lance crush the peloton up Alpe d’Huez is great motivation.

Keep reading: Day 2 – Horseshoe Meadow and Mt. Whitney Portal

Day 2 – Horseshoe Meadow and Mt. Whitney Portal

Arlyn — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 23:15:06 +0000

Back to: Day 1 – Onion Valley

Day 2 – Horseshoe Meadow and Mt. Whitney Portal

The wind howled all night long. In the morning, it was still going and I was nervous at breakfast. Today was a big day – we’d climb two beasts for over 11,000 feet of elevation gain in just 65 miles. There was talk of 10% grades for miles on the way to Mt. Whitney portal. I wolfed down a huge bowl of oatmeal, two rubbery hardboiled eggs, and a bunch of juice. The plan was to ride from the motel so we could get a tour of the Alabama Hills as a warm up approach to Horseshoe Meadow Road. The Alabama hills remind me a lot of Joshua Tree – I’m not sure the geology, but it must be very similar composition. I could almost hear the sound of carabiners snapping and rock climbers calling, “On belay!” as we wheedled up a twisty road between the huge boulders.

The best part of the warm up was that the wind was on our backs. We rode easy, pushed up the gentle inclines by the breeze to the base of Horseshoe Meadow Road. The photo below shows the climb in all it’s glory, although it’s important to note that after the last switchback there still remains 3 more miles of steady climbing.

Now why in hell did someone build a road up the side of this cliff? Who looked at that mountain and said to themselves, “Now that’s a great place to build a road!”. The scale of the image is a little deceiving, the first switchback at the bottom is over 2 miles long! Apparently this road was built in three stages over several years – they wanted the road up there that badly! All I can say is, “Thank you! thank you! thank you for all your hard work!”

Once on the meat of the climb, I found Voris and we paced each other to the top. The wind had died down somewhere on the first switchback so we avoided the headwinds like on Onion Valley. As usual, Rick and Drew went off the front and arrived at the faux-summit first. I say ‘faux-summit’ because there is a high point 3 miles short of the actual summit where we re-grouped. You can see it on the elevation profile below. Rob did a super job staying with Drew and Rick for awhile and he ended up arriving third, but you can’t really count Drew and Rick so Rob was first of the ‘B’ squad. Voris and I measured ourselves to the first peak and had a really enjoyable climb. We weren’t pushing so hard that we couldn’t talk and it was really nice to have someone to share the scenery and adventure with.

Here’s a view looking south from the second northbound switchback. Just incredible. It had turned into a really spectacular day now that the winds had calmed. Perfect climbing weather.

Voris and I finally got to the faux-summit where Rick, Drew and Rob were waiting. We left Rob behind to sunbathe a little and we sped down the short 1-mile descent for the last two miles of climbing. It was uneventful and soon we were at Horseshoe Meadow.

It was great being in the mountains again, especially the eastern Sierra. The weather on top was perfect – sunny with still, crisp air and about 75F. I was really feeling a lot of love for the mountains as we made our way back to Rob and the rest of the team.

After a bit of a rest we headed down the mountain. Without the winds it was a pretty fun descent. I don’t have the experience descending that many of the other guys do so I hung back and took my time. After awhile I started to get a feel for the cornering and was able to get my speed up above 40 mph in some stretches.

We re-grouped a little when we hit the flats with the idea that we’d work together against the wind over to the support car. We’d parked a car between Horseshoe and Whitney Portal Rd so we could take a break between climbs and re-supply our bottles and gels. But there was no wind to fight. It felt really good to be on flatter ground again and I hammered it, trying to get a little sporty group going. Jim was up for it and Voris stayed with us, but wasn’t super keen on expending energy at this point – we still had another 3,750 feet of elevation to gain. I was feeling great – you know how some days you just can’t help but go fast? I was having one of those.

We stopped for lunch and Jim pulls out this jar of ice-cold dill pickles, maybe it was the heat in the valley or our salt depleted states, but that pickle was the best pickle I ever had. I’ll bet that jar was empty in less than 30 seconds. A new Descender tradition was born. Pickles!

Some of you may know me as a bit of a competitive guy. You’re probably not surprised to learn that I had been thinking a little bit about where the perfect place would be for me to attack. I was looking to distinguish myself on a significant climb, call it a ‘stage win’ if you will. The key thing to understand is that I wanted to prove something to myself, not anyone else. I wanted to know if I had it in me to accomplish something special. Am I really good enough, strong enough to ride away from the group and go all the way to the top of something nasty? There were four Monsters to climb this weekend. Attacking on the first or the second would be dumb cause you still have to climb the last two. And attacking on the last climb of the trip was dangerous cause I couldn’t predict what my form would be like on the last day, or anyone else’s for that matter. I would attack on the third climb, to Mt. Whitney Portal.

The road to Whitney Portal is only about 9 miles long, but it rises 3,700+ feet to around 8,300 with consistently steep grades the whole way. It’s something like 9-10% for the entire climb, which really is ridiculous. We’d already done Horseshoe so this would be a real achievement. It would also mirror almost exactly what I will do in France – on the first day I’ll do Alpe d’Huez, on the second I’ll do a little bit of the Galibier, the Col de la Croix de Fer and finally Alpe d’Huez again. And I want to do well on Huez the second time.

So after lunch, the Descenders got back on the road headed towards the portal. I rode to the front where Voris and Jim were, plugged in my iPod and selected the live Dave Matthews album I’ve been listening to for months. I put in both earbuds, cranked the volume and increased my tempo until my heart rate monitor said 90%. I knew from experience that I could hold 90% for at least an hour and a half – just enough time to get to the top.

I looked down and Voris was following me. Then he was off and chasing. Then I didn’t see him anymore. I didn’t see anyone anymore. I was alone, off the front and blasting away at 90% HR. You know, it kinda hurts to go that hard.

“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”

- Lance Armstrong

I was heading up 10% grades, the Owens Valley opening up off the side of the switchback and Whitney Portal getting ever so slowly closer at about 6 mph. I wanted to quit. That little “voice” in my head did at least. We had an ongoing conversation that went like this:

The Voice: Sit up and wait for Voris, you can work together.

My Heart: I’m not stopping. I can do this.

The Voice: They are going to catch you anyways.

My Heart: Nope, I won’t let them.

The Voice: This hurts, slow down.

My Heart: You can’t make me. You’re not me.

Up and up I went. I’ve never been to Whitney Portal before so all I had to measure my progress was the mileage. I looked back down the switchbacks at one point and didn’t see anyone behind me. I was really going to do this. Where was Rick and Drew? Them being supermen and all, I had already decided that it didn’t count against my goal if they passed me, but I didn’t see anyone. I sucked down gels and drink without abandon and pedaled hard. All that mattered was getting to the top first.

Up ahead, there was a sign. It was the entrance sign to Whitney Portal. “Holy crap, I did it! I’m here first. There’s no one anywhere! Just me and my bike. I did it! I won.” I stopped by the sign and got off my bike, intending to take a picture and just laid my head down on my saddle. All of a sudden it really hit me what I did and I closed my eyes and had a little “moment”. A hiker nearby was giving me strange looks, but I didn’t much care. Finally, I got myself together, took the photo and realized it’s still another mile and 500 feet up to the end of the road

It was a hard final mile, but I was elated. I pulled up to the snack bar at the top, found a chair in the sunshine and waited for the rest of the team. Drew and Rick were just 3-5 minutes behind me, but had stopped to fix a flat. Then the rest of the team came in, one at a time and I’m not exactly sure of the order. Voris, Boyle, Rob and Guido. Seven of the ten Descenders had made it to the portal, climbing over 11,000 feet in a single day. It was a huge team accomplishment and we all knew it. We sat together, soaking up the sun, enjoying it and not really wanting to go down. Whitney Portal sits in a pine forest with a little lake, surrounded by shining white granite that reminded me of Yosemite Valley. It was really cool sitting there, the seven of us all decked out in Descenders jerseys while tourists eyeballed us and asked, “Did you really ride your bikes up here?”

Finally we decided it was time to go. We saddled up and sped down the mountain, this time I even enjoyed the speed and the sharp turns (I was careful, Mom). We hammered back to town and soon I was laying by the pool with a cold beer in hand. Here’s my elevation profile for the day.

Went out to dinner and had a humongous double cheeseburger with pretty much everything on it. Back to the rooms to watch Lance hammer the 2002 Tour de France again and then early to bed. I was tired, really tired.

Keep reading: Day 3 – Bristlecone Forest

Day 3 – Bristlecone Forest

Arlyn — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 23:00:44 +0000

Back to: Day 2 – Horseshoe Meadow and Mt. Whitney Portal

Alarm goes off at 6:30am, but I’m really already awake. My legs are sore. I get up and head over for oatmeal and juice. I don’t really want to choke down another rubber egg, but I do anyways cause it’s good for me. I reward myself with a toaster waffle and head back to the room to stretch and kit up.

It’s a 45 minute drive to Big Pine and the start of our final Monster – climbing to Bristlecone Forest. Looking out the window at the Sierra, I was filled with glory for the mountains.

The climb to Bristlecone Forest is a real doozy. It’s 23 miles long and gains well over 6,000 feet before topping out above 10,000 feet. As Voris put it the night before, it starts out steep and only gets worse. I think this sign best sums it up.

The lower part of the Bristlecone is a really pitchy and twisty. We tried to memorize the corners for the descent and even kicked a few rocks out of the way to make it safer later on. I was really hurting. My legs were sore from the previous day’s adventure and I was waiting for my form to catch back up to me. My heart felt good and I was confident that good form would find me farther up the road. So I hung out in the back of the group and gobbled down GU like it was going out of style.

I almost forgot to tell you about the town signs. You know I like to sprint for town sign “points” and this trip was no different. I added National Forest signs to the list and jumped out every time I saw one. At first, no one really followed me – I’m not sure you even call it sprinting on a 12% grade with the pack going 4 mph. On the second day, Jim (our resident Ciclamino jersey wearer) started going for them too, much to my chagrin since he wins most of the ones he goes for. My strength is that I usually notice the sign first and get it sneakily. So as we neared the halfway point to Bristlecone the group decided there was a point at the support car (which we had dropped off for lunch/refill). Jim looks at me and I know it’s over. But I still have to try, right? I know I can’t get him on a short course, but maybe I can go long and he’ll fade. I take off way too early and he’s right there with me. I keep waiting for him to fade, but he doesn’t. Then he looks over at me and I can tell I am wasting my time. I sit up and he nabs the point. Those fast guys can really get under your skin

After lunch, the group toodles together along a flat section rewarming our legs in preparation for the final 3,000 feet of climbing. Voris has been complaining all morning about his knee and I’ve lectured him on how long it can take to heal a tendon or ligament injury. He’s taken meds and rubbed blue gel on his knee and had even iced it in the car on the drive over. But when he gets a little ahead of the pack I pop up there cause you still never know, right? I ask him, “Hey, are you on a 9 mile breakaway or something?” and he replies, “No, I just want to spin and warm up my knee after stopping for lunch”. Alright, I wait up for the pack… and didn’t see him again until the summit! Apparently his knee felt better and off he went. Congrats to Voris, he ended up topping out just behind Drew.

It’s probably best that I didn’t try to stay with Voris because I did not have the legs. Once back on the climb proper, Boyle got a little ahead of me and I tried to catch him. I worked hard but the gap seemed to just get wider. I tried to power through the steep inside part of each switchback turn in an effort to gain some distance, but he went farther and farther away. Pretty soon my chase developed into survival mode. The situation was devolving into suffering. I turned over the cranks as best I could and when my legs refused, I ordered them on some more. It’s strange to look down and see yourself not pedaling and think, “Hey, who stopped the pedaling?”. I picked a point in the distance and said, “Just get there” and before I got there, I picked a new point. Over and over until I was topping out and there was Voris, cheerful as ever. Waiting to welcome the team to the top.

We rolled over to the visitor center and I immediately laid down in the sunshine, flat on my back. Happy happy happy. Drew had been the first to the top, then Voris, and then Boyle. The rest team came trickling in and pretty soon we were all laying out in the sun, joking and enjoying more tourists who wondered if we really rode our bikes to the top. With no reason to leave we hung out and had a good time. We had climbed 23,000 feet of elevation, on 4 of the top 10 Monster climbs in the US in just 3 days. It was possible after all.

Now the dessert. The descent from Bristlecone was the best of the whole trip. The upper section is a little gravelly, but the lower section is just pure Descender delight. I was feeling good and even managed to stay within sight of the rest of the team down the mountain. I was traveling close to 50 mph on the straights, ripping over rises that give you that empty stomach feeling before braking and diving into sharp corners. Down and down we came, ten Descenders having the time of their lives. It’s good to be a Descender.

Here’s the day’s elevation profile

In the car, on the way back, Guido, Jim and I reflected on the weekend. We considered ourselves lucky to be able to take part in epic adventures like the Monster Climbs weekend. But even more, we’re fortunate to be able to have the epic adventures with a great group of guys like the Descenders. A team of guys who want to play hard and support and challenge each other. We’re out for the team win and we’re going to have a hell of a good time along the way.

It’s all downhill from here. Thanks guys for a great weekend!

Yeah, that’s the point.

Arlyn — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 21:43:02 +0000

Yeah, that’s the point., originally uploaded by Arlyn Asch.