thoughtful. entertaining. random.

Activity: road cycling
Location: McHenry, MD (Wisp Mountain Resort)
Distance: 125.88 miles (many steep and technical climbs and descents)
Duration: 9:21 (11:23 with stoppage time)
Weather: cool start, warm-to-hot from there, 59-92 degrees
Climbing: 15,500′
Avg HR: 158 (max 189)
Type: aerobic

This ride proves that there is always something more difficult to do on a bicycle.

Since it’s unlikely that I’ll be riding the Great River Ride this year, I decided to add another longer challenge ride to my 2010 schedule. That came in the form of the Garrett County Gran Fondo, specifically the “Diabolical Double” route: a 126-mile route that climbs and descends river-cut ridges through the Maryland panhandle and parts of northern West Virginia. It’s a route that few have ever completed, and this year the organizers of the Savageman Triathlon decided to stage an organized ride on this route to test the mettle of local endurance cyclists.

I didn’t enter into this ride lightly. Friends familiar with the area said that the terrain was extreme, and that every climb would have a sinister element to it: steepness, exposure, road surfaces conspiring against progress. Naturally, this meant some breakneck descents, tempered only by the prospect of gravel washed over the pavement due to recent torrential rains. There was also the factor of distance between checkpoints/aid stations, which meant the possibility of running out of water or food at later points in the ride.

But this ride still proved inviting. The prospect of beautiful terrain (including the “Westernport Wall,” a 31% climb that’s featured in the Savageman race) and riding with good friends, Mariette and Rick, in an area that I hadn’t explored outside of winter months was too much to pass up. And I’ve been climbing really well on local sinister roads like Massanutten, Coxey Brown, Francis Hollow and Park Central, so I felt ready to give this ride a go.

And it was truly diabolical.

To quote (and second) Mariette:

“[The DD] is is the hardest thing I have EVER done on a bike, and I have done some hilly doubles and some hilly centuries. This thing is like doing Naked Mountain, then Massanutten, then Vesuvius and then doing them all over and over and over until you get 126 miles. But the scenery was kicker.”

She was right. And Rick added the following in a message to Kyle Yost, the course designer:

“I’ve done the Mountains of Misery Double Metric Century five times, and your ride is consistently harder… Same amount of climbing, but the Diabolical Double takes an additional two hours of a serious suffer fest. I really enjoyed the flat section at the end am only too thankful you didn’t chart a final climb any more vicious than you did… I assume you simply couldn’t find one.”

Again, spot on.

A quick summary of the course: starting from the top of Wisp Ski Area, the ride begins with a fast descent (I hit 57.1 mph on this first stretch – some nearly hit 60), then gives you a taste of the climbs to come about 10 miles in: a 1/2 mile stretch at 15-16%. From there, the hills became more and more extreme, adding fuel to the fire. It got to the point where 10% seemed like a mild climb and not something that, on a normal club ride, would be groused at. We hit 20-21% at least 6 times on this ride. There was also a 1.5 mile long dirt stretch, the last 3/10 of a mile being a 13-14% incline – more a job for a mountain or cross bike than a road steed, but we made it up, all the same.

And then there was the Westernport Wall. It was an optional climb, not officially part of the course, but as Kyle said in the pre-ride briefing: you’re there anyway, so you might as well climb it. It’s a one-block-long stretch of poorly-paved road that is 31% for all but the last 10 feet of its length. Other than the residents who live on the road, nobody is allowed to drive it in either direction. In the Savageman Triathlon, any competitor who scales it without falling or dismounting gets their name on a brick at the climb’s summit.

And so I did – and I killed it! And truth be told, it was one of the easiest climbs on the ride, given the parameters are known (e.g. distance from bottom to top).

In Westernport was the fourth of five checkpoints on the route. The organizers required riders to check in at every checkpoint, such was the brutal nature of the ride. At certain checkpoints, it was possible to choose a shorter route, though checkpoint three is the “make or break” if you wanted to shortcut down to the 102-mile route. The checkpoints were well-staffed and equipped with plentiful food, water, HEED and ice (that last one was important as the elevation dropped and the temperatures rose – in Westernport it was 92 degrees, the hottest point of the ride).

The other challenge was that, after Westernport (mile 84), the next checkpoint wasn’t until mile 110, and there were three long, difficult, mostly-exposed climbs through West Virginia before said stop. Furthermore, this course is remote, and there are precious few convenience stores or vending machines along the way.

So when I started running out of energy around mile 92, I became a bit concerned. I slowed down my pace, which helped, but my bottles (even the slurry one) were dangerously low as the heat and sun exposure took their toll on me. Luckily, the town of Deer Park installed a spring water spigot at mile 103, and I made it there shortly after my bottles had run dry. I spent about 15 minutes at that spigot, dousing myself with the icy-cold water, refilling my bottles and eating some granola bar and energy gel. I felt renewed and carried on, Mariette and Rick ahead of me now due to my flagging energy.

The remainder of the stretch to mile 110, and indeed to the finish at mile 126.88, went well: I rode strongly (and solo) for the remainder, and climbed the final hill up to the summit of Wisp (the lower half of which is a 14% grade) with strong legs, sprinting through the finish.

Rolling time: 9h 21m
Elapsed time: 11h 23m

Yup – almost two hours of stoppage time. Some of that was to take pictures, some was waiting for Mariette and Rick at the checkpoints, some was necessary recovery time. But it was necessary, as this wasn’t a ride to take lightly.

Of note:

• Despite running out of water and getting into a slight energy slump, I didn’t cramp at all on the ride.
• My low gear of 36/25 was a tad too tall, though I never had to resort to tacking or walking. 34/27 would be the ideal bailout gear for this ride – possibly even 34/29 or 34/30. Rick’s low gear was 39/28 and it was tough for him.
• Having a positive attitude helped a ton.
• The event staff were top-notch all the way around.
• For the brave souls who want to try this ride on their own: be prepared with good brakes and a lot of food and other supplies, because some of the stretches between available supplies are very, very long. Checkpoints 2 and 5 only had supplies because of the event.
• Also: if you don’t start and finish at the summit of Wisp, it’s not the real ride (there is a variation of the cue that starts and ends at the base of Wisp Mountain Resort, starting off the ride with a climb.

You can see a set of the pictures I snapped on the ride by clicking here.

Activity: road cycling
Location: Newport, VA
Distance: 102.7 (rolling with two long, steep climbs)
Duration: 6:21 (6:43 with stoppage time)
Weather: warm and humid, foggy/misty in the morning, 70-86 degrees
Climbing: 10,000′
Avg HR: 149 (max 187)
Type: aerobic

It’s been a while since I’ve written up a ride, so I figure writing this epic ride up is a fine place to catch up on things.

This season of cycling started slowly, due in no small part to the fact that DC had a lot of snow, both in December and February, with a colder-than-usual January. So the weather was great for skiing, and I managed to enjoy some of the plentiful snow up at Blue Knob, Pennsylvania, between some of the February storms.

This meant less time on the bike – at least less time that I’d use to build up to a ride like Mountains of Misery. I’ve trained a lot of hilly miles, working intervals, honing my cadence and spin, and shedding some winter weight to prepare for the climbs outside of Blacksburg, VA.

It was a lot of pain, but did it pay off? Would I beat my time from 2009?

First off, the day dawned humid and foggy. The temperature was rather mild (a t-shirt and shorts were fine just before dawn), and when Jonathan and I arrived at the Newport Rec Center, the foggy mist had just lifted from the town.

Our group of friends started in the fourth wave of riders: the ride organizers start waves of 40-50 riders every two minutes. They do this to keep the roads from getting too crowded, as this is not a closed course and they wish to keep riders safe and locals happy.

As we ride away, I’m feeling awake and ready. But my drivetrain isn’t. In fact, shifting is off: sluggish, imprecise, and markedly different from how things were the day prior. I assess things as we roll to find that my rear derailleur cable’s housing is on the verge of snapping at the frame boss: it’s bent almost perpendicular to the boss, the cable straining past the angle.

Not good.

I soon learn to compensate for the shifting – adjusting the cable tension, learning to over-shift here and under-shift there – but harbor a sneaking suspicion that my rear derailleur cable could snap at any point along the course. I soldiered on, regardless, and our group made great time over the first 61 miles to the top of Johns Creek Mountain, the first major climb on the ride (and our first rest stop). I’d fallen behind the group on the climb, though not by more than 30-40 seconds from the next-slowest person.

As I pull into the stop, I get a tiny cramp adjacent to my left hamstring, but quickly stretch it out, refill my bottles, eat some food and take some electrolyte supplements. The rest of the group does the same, and we descend quickly back to the New River Valley.

Once in the valley, Joyce and Geoff ramp up the pace. This proves too much for my legs, and after two attempts to shepherd me back into the group, I wave them off. So I ride mostly solo for the remainder of the ride. Sure, I see friends along the way: Tim and Mariette, who are both having personal bests on the ride. But I knew that I had to ride my own ride, so to speak. Tim rode ahead, while Mariette wasn’t far behind me.

I had a lot of time to think along this stretch, which was good: in allowing myself to think about things other than keeping up with the paceline, I was able to allow myself to relax and save energy for the big climb of the day: the steep incline to Mountain Lake.

Two quick stops – one at mile 84 to top off on fluids, pop at Tums (for the calcium) and eat some fruit, the other at mile 94 to top off the bidons with ice – translated into increasing energy, and by the time I hit the bottom of the last, 4-mile-long climb, I felt great! I spun the pedals with a decent cadence and quite a bit of efficiency, passing many riders who had lower gearing than me (my granny gear was a 36/26, while many others were using a 34/27 or 34/28) and keeping up my pace even as the grade steepened.

By the rest stop 1.5 miles from the finish, my cadence fell a bit (the road pitches up to 16% at this point) but I was still in good shape. Just prior to this stop, the fastest double-metric rider, Scotty Weiss, passed me with a lot of speed and shouted words of encouragement (he was the only person who passed me on the entire climb). I asked the staff at the rest stop to dump two cups of ice water down my back, which brought instant cooling and a burst of energy (as did the playful pat on my butt from the very cute Virginia Tech student who applied the water).

I powered to the finish, finishing 25 minutes slower than last year, yet shaving 9 minutes off my time for the final climb – not bad, all things being equal. My derailleur cable held up (as I later learned, on two intact strands out of 16), I didn’t cramp (most of my paceline mates did on the final climb), and I still had something left in the tank. After a wonderful 30-minute massage and a recovery drink, I watched and cheered as friends crossed the line.

And after Chris finished his long, weary ride (he’d driven down from Princeton, NJ, the night before and was very tired), I hopped the van back down to Newport to claim my bike, hop in the car with Jonathan, and return to DC.

Next year, Misery – I’m aiming for a personal record.

(Click to see my 2009 and 2008 write-ups for this ride.)