Tag Archives: pain

Boone Gran Fondo, 2013, Boone, NC

This is Ron from Wilmington on Highway 221.

Before I delve into the lengthy ride report, I’d like to talk a little about the timed format of this GFNCS. As I noted in the Preview post, the overall course is not timed. They only time four sections of varying distances, mostly climbs.

In short, I loved this format! And I didn’t realize why until I was on the road, experiencing the difference between this structure and the typical ‘cookie’ rides.

Here’s what I liked most about it:

1. Eliminates the knucklehead factor. Of course there are always going to be some knuckleheads (like the guy that forgot his helmet. Doh!), but this eliminates most of them. The big difference is you don’t get people who shoot out of the gates and make poor decisions in the interest of getting a better time.

2. Sociality. All rides are social, but this format allowed for more socializing than I would expect. Between the timed sections, people would ride easy and converse. To my surprise, I found myself chatting it up with a lot of people I’d never met before. The heavy breathing hammerfest would not start until we passed through the orange cones.

3. Control. This goes with #1. The organizers can place these timed sections at designated areas with low risk. This is the same notion as sprint zones in a group ride. You find an area with low traffic that allows riders to flex their muscles. For the Boone ride, these four sections were on hills. They were good spots with hardly any traffic, the perfect place to allow riders to try to prove themselves.

4. Fueling. The aid stations were situated between timed sections, so there was not a need for riders to weigh themselves down with fuel. Nobody had to carry 5 bottles in order to eliminate stops. Some of the guys only carried one bottle. They would just fuel up at the stops. Since everyone stopped and ate, it also reduced the chances of people bonking on the road.

Because of all this and more, 104 miles of riding and climbing was actually a blast. Thanks to the organizers and volunteers for making it such a treat. Even though the ride was hard, I’ll definitely be trying others in the series.

As for the ride, I’ll say just one word: Ouch! This was the real deal, a true challenging mountain century that throws everything it can at you.

After Reuben made the pre-ride announcements, we set out from downtown Boone. The start was mildly cool with a bit of wind. The roads were damp as an early morning storm had just passed through.

Reuben giving pre-ride announcements as we prepare to head out.

Reuben giving pre-ride announcements as we prepare to head out.

We could not get too comfortable, as the first timed section started right away — Russ Cornett Rd. This would not be the most challenging climb of the day, not even close, but it served as a wake-up call since it came so early. We dealt with some easy grades, occasional descents, and some false flats. The young bucks stretched their legs and attacked the climb, as they should. I rode my own pace, not wanting to blow up too early or hurt myself later.

Russ Cornett placed us at the middle of the Schull’s Mill Rd climb. This is one of my favorite climbs in the area, but I was grateful not to have to ride the whole thing. We skipped the Parkway and turned right onto Hwy 221.

The only times I have ridden 221 were on Bridge to Bridge when weather pulled us off the Parkway. This was the first time I could really see around me from 221. It was gorgeous. There were so many splendid views as we rolled through, up and down, gradually making our way up in elevation. The best part was when we could see the Linn Cove Viaduct straight up in the sky above. Seeing it from below made me appreciate the engineering brilliance even more.

Highway 221 was the second timed section. This time I was a little more warmed up and felt better, but reminded myself that I wasn’t racing. I started at a normal pace. A few people stood up to push harder, passing me instantly. I didn’t take the bait, but stills ended up catching a lot of those people. 221 is gradual enough that it fits my current style of riding, and of all the timed sections, this was probably my best.

We had to deal with some wind as we rolled through Linville and Banner Elk towards Newland. Since I’m recovering from a chest cold that I cannot seem to shed (which turned out to be a lower respiratory infection), and of course, a few injuries, I was tempted to take the shorter route. That temptation didn’t last long, as I found myself turning left on the wheel of Dave, the eventual winner of the Masters 55+ category.

This is Dave, winner of the race and the New Jersey Gran Fondo.

This is Dave, winner of the Masters 55+.

At the next aid station, I met up with Stuart and Karen from Raleigh. We had chatted some on Schull’s Mill and 221, and seemed like a good fit for a riding trio. Stuart was a beast, very strong rider. He would attack the climbs and then wait at the top. Karen was also strong and would out-climb me, but was a slower descender. Another aspect I like about this format is that it allows two people with different paces to ride together. They were great riding companions, and courteously waited at the top of all the big climbs. Refer to item #2 above. We had a great time between the timed sections, as we suffered through a difficult course with a lot of laughs.

The next timed section was Beech Mountain Rd. This is not the same climb as the historic Beech Mtn Pkwy, but instead heads up the backside of the mountain. This climb was my favorite of the day. The grade was rarely punishing, and the scenery exquisite. The most alarming part was a large black snake who had positioned himself in the riding lane on the right side of the road. I was in a zone and almost ran right over him. Stuart almost did the same. The snake was not moving and could have been dead, but I suspect he was only sleeping in the sun.

Beech Mountain was the most rewarding because of the terrific downhill. The upper portion was perfect because it wound around without a very steep grade, the type of descending that makes all the climbing worthwhile. The lower portion was steeper and less curvy, so we bombed down and hit our top speed of 45 mph. It was a rush!

Stuart kicked it into high gear when the Beaver Dam Rd timed section began. I remained behind with Karen. This was a longer stretch, and the early false flat lulled us into a false sense of security. Karen and I rode together easily when the road turned up. She went on ahead while I fought my own battle.

It was a little steeper, but I could deal with the 6-8% grades. If only they would have lasted. As we approached the end of the climb, the road turned up — way up! It was in the 11-12% vicinity. No problem. I can muscle through this, right? I turned the corner, and there was yet another ramp, equally steep. They kept coming and coming for a good two miles. By the time I reached the top, I was a beaten man. Stuart and Karen were sitting down, and I collapsed beside them. Ugh! After a couple minutes to rest my back, we were back on the road. This time we had a gravelly descent, which would be followed by about 10 miles of easier riding.

One of the steep inclines near the end of Beaver Dam Rd.

One of the steep inclines near the end of Beaver Dam Rd.

I loaded up on food and drink at the last rest station, just to stave off any potential bonks. The big timed climbs were out of the way. We knew Mast Gap was ahead of us, but that’s more of a hill than a climb. We had this made!

Or did we?

Holy Mother of God! We did not know what waited for us!

After we rolled through Valle Crucis and the starting point for BSG, we turned left. ‘Where does this go?’ I wondered. The answer was up, straight up. Bam! The road was immediately at 13%. Fine, I can handle another steep hill or two. I inched my way up the first hill, turned a corner, and Bam!, there was more waiting for me. This continued around a few more curves. At one point the grade dropped down to a more manageable 8%, but as soon as I got comfortable, it was above double digits again. I watched the miles tick by, knowing that we were close to Boone, just waiting for the final downhill to the finish line.

One of the brutal quad killers at the end of the event.

One of the brutal quad killers at the end of the event.

A nice lady was watering her lawn and shouted, ‘You’re almost to the top.’ Apparently she had been telling a lot of struggling riders the same thing. After .2 of a mile, the top finally arrived, and a relaxing descent followed.

Was that it?

We turned right onto White Oak Road. Bam! The road turned up again, and kept going, and going, and going. This one was not as steep, but the 8% grades felt like 20% with all the mileage already on our legs. When it did turn up to double digits, it was sheer pain. I thought of stopping a number of times, but held onto the bike, inching upward. I kept grunting and grunting until I reached the top, until finally after a couple miles, I was there. I’ll just say that whoever created the Strava section for those two climbs had it right. That was a brutal finish!

But it wasn’t quite over for me. I had finished the climbing, and had a mile until completing the event. I heard a pop and a hiss, and knew instantly what happened. My rear tire flatted, and and it was a bad one. One mile from the finish line, and I couldn’t even coast in. I got a ride for that last mile, but I’m counting this. 103 miles with over 10,000 feet of climbing is a ride for the ages.

Congrats to the organizers for putting on a terrific inaugural event. I expect this one will be popular in the years to come.

Strava Link

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Assault on Mount Mitchell, 2012, Spartanburg, SC

The Assault on Mount Mitchell is hard. Insanely hard. I had forgotten how hard it was. If you want evidence, just check the results. Out of approximately 1,000 riders that started the ride, only 765 succeeded. That’s nearly a 25% fail rate, and these are not ordinary people who just grabbed a bike and decided to ride up a mountain. These are people that trained for months, focused on this one goal.

I bumped into a first-time rider at the hotel and he asked me for any tips. I said that you shouldn’t think of it as impossible. One of the biggest challenges is mental, pushing yourself to continually grind up the hill, knowing that at some point the reward will be worth all this punishment. That was good advice, but I reflected on it as those last miles slowly ticked by, as I noticed every passing tenth of a mile, reassuring myself that the end was getting closer. Hopefully I didn’t tell this guy the ride was easy, because it definitely is not. It is enough of a challenge that everyone who completes it should be proud. This is something that not everyone can do.

I was confident for this year’s Assault. I had my plan. I had put in the work. This would be my day.

The most stressful part of the ride is in the first 20 miles. That’s when all 1,000 riders converge together, mashing the pedals and all trying to get to Marion as fast as possible. Mistakes are made. People get sloppy. There will be plenty of ‘jerks,’ as Paul puts it. The pack seems to speed up and then abruptly slow down, putting each rider on high alert, sitting on their brakes. “SLOWING” is heard every minute or so. It is frustrating, but something one has to deal with in order to get an easy ride to Marion.

At mile 10, I fell victim to someone’s poor preparation. A water bottle came loose in a large pack, maybe five or six riders ahead of me. Everyone immediately slowed, swerved, and did everything possible to keep their bikes upright. The guy immediately in front of me swerved to the left of me, and then onto me. THWACK! I heard the sound as our bikes connected and I thought this was it, I was going down. Miraculously I stayed on the bike. All of us did and the pack kept going.

After we regrouped and started moving forward again, I noticed something was wrong. My left handlebar was crooked, pointing to the right and sitting a little lower. At first it seemed awkward and difficult to ride. The steering was fine. The brakes and shifters worked. I just had to keep my hand crooked to the right and lean a little differently to keep it balanced. I was able to ride through it with only minor discomfort. I chugged along.

I was feeling great early. I had missed the lead pack, but settled into one that was keeping a good enough pace. We were at 22 mph when we reached Bill’s Hill. This would be the first big challenge. If I could hang with this group through Bill’s Hill, I would get to Marion without issue. To my surprise, it didn’t seem too difficult this time. I climbed up comfortably either with or ahead of most of my pack.

I arrived in Marion at around 3:35. That was perfect, right where I wanted to be. They say that it takes as long to get from Spartanburg to Mitchell as it does from Marion to Mitchell. Last year I had made up time on the climbs, so at this point it looked like a good bet for me to break seven hours.

Unfortunately I made a crucial error at Marion. I had left some Gatorade with my wife and forgot to refill my bottles. All they had at the rest stop was water. I filled part of a bottle, figuring that would be enough to get me up Highway 80 to the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Highway 80 starts out flat with some easy rollers. It’s a gorgeous ride along Lake Tahoma, but seems like forever until the climb begins. I was still feeling fine and skipped the rest stop just before the climb. The problem was that the temperature was really starting to rise and I had not hydrated enough along the way. I was getting thirsty. Soon enough, that meant I was getting tired.

I tried to conserve water, knowing it probably wouldn’t be enough to take me through the climb. I got slower and slower. The riders that I had been with before all passed me. People behind them passed me. I was bonking. The road has markings for every half a mile remaining. At 2 miles, I began to wonder if I could continue. I had nothing. An eternity later it said 1.5 miles to go. Are you kidding me? I ran out of water with a mile to go. It was a long mile. Finally I reached the top and guzzled as much water, Gatorade and Coke as I could, while filling both bottles all the way.

The elevation on the Parkway didn’t help the temperature much. It was still warm and sunny. I could feel the heat intensely. I tried to push at a good pace and simply couldn’t keep it. More people passed me. Around midway through the parkway, after having sufficiently hydrated and fueled myself, I started to get the magic back. My pace picked up and I started passing people again.

I was thrilled to find the short, 2-mile descent. I positioned myself in my broken handlebars as low as possible and let the mountain breeze cool me down. I felt amazing when I started climbing again, like a new man. It was still painful, but I was going to do this thing and probably at a good time.

When I turned into the Mitchell State Park entrance, I thought there was a chance of me breaking seven hours. Reality struck as I noticed my speed during the steeper sections. It was in the 4-5 mph range, not fast. I grunted my way up, slowly and surely to the finish line.

I looked down to find myself covered in bugs. It looked like I was wearing black arm warmers. They were everywhere. I continued to climb, going by the restaurant and then to the final summit, just a few hundred feet.

Mitchell accomplished, again! My final time was 7:07. While I didn’t break my goal of seven hours, I beat last year’s time by nearly an hour. I’ll take that. And I’ll wait awhile before I start thinking about next year. Who am I kidding? I’m going for 6:30 next year.

Strava GPS Link

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