Cycling Explained

Stavelot, Belgium

September 9 & 11

The International Cycling Union (Union cycliste internationale) sponsors a series of “Cycling for All” qualifying events held around the world called the UCI World Cycling Tour (UWCT). The 2011 UCWT had qualifier events in Europe, US and Australia, leading to the UWCT Final in Stavelot, Belgium on sections of the Liège-Bastogne-Liège course.

I somehow qualified for the amateur masters finals at the Gran Fondo New York in May. Encouraged by Rebecca and family bikers, I registered for both the UCI World Championships Individual Time Trial (22 km) and the Road Race (110 km). I crated and shipped the new-this-season Trek Madone 5.2, arrived in Brussels Thursday morning Sept. 8, drove to Stavelot via Namur (first pain au raisin and Félicien Rops Museum). Then it was country roads to Vielsalm in the Ardennes, about 20 km south of Stavelot, where I stayed at a family recreational complex called Sunparks Ardenne (unfortunately, a weekend rock music festival in town went until 2 am Sunday). The area is very scenic with hills, forests, farms, fishing streams, winding roads and picturesque towns. There’s a strong cycling culture, both road and mountains. I reassembled the bike, borrowed a pump from two Aussies there for the time trial, and picked up the registration packet in Stavelot Thursday evening.

The time trial was Friday morning; my number was 70 and start time 10:53. I parked the car and rode around Stavelot looking for the start for about half-an-hour (on a bike path above town). I watched some of the last women riders come down the start ramp. It was drizzling as riders in the 55-59 and 60-64 age groups assembled in the chute, most with amazingly high-end tt equipment. There were a few cherished minutes of camradrie / bonhomie, shaking hands and wishing good luck in several languages, feeling like young men. Each started a minute apart. I had never time-trialed before nor started on a ramp, but got into a medium gear, clipped in, and was held up for about 50 seconds on the line. The starter counted down en français “trois, deux, un go.” I tucked down on the grips (no aerobars or tt helmet) and attempted to fly away. After about 300m a motorcycle escort jumped ahead about 50m and accompanied me the entire route, which had markers for each km. The first 9 km was on the flat bike trail and included two tunnels. There were two 180-degree hairpin turns coming off the trail to the road and a steep climb (avg. gradient 11%, max. 20%), unusual in a time trial. After the summit was a deep dive, leveling out on rolling terrain then downhill again for the twisting and slightly uphill finish in Stavelot on cobblestones (pavés) the last km. I was passed by three riders, numbers 71, 72 and 78, who was really flying. I was 11^th (last) in my age group, finishing in 39:50.

The road race was Sunday morning; my number was 496 and the neutral start was 9:02. I parked the car and warmed up for about fifteen minutes around Stavelot. There was much more activity on Sunday, with about 125 riders in the 40-49 age groups and 70 in the 50+ groups. The 40-49ers started two minutes ahead of us. A few minutes before 9 we gathered in a pen area; I was near the back. Beautiful bikes, many custom jobs, very little chatter. We clipped in and left bunched together, riding slowly uphill to the main road through town, which had a gradual descent to the start about 1.5km away. No one went out fast, but we reached the start strung out and raced around turnabouts with police waving flags. I was about two-thirds back for the first 30 km, which was easy like a club ride. It was overcast and about 70 degrees. We cycled through Trois-Ponts, Vielsalm and Lierneux, where the pace picked up considerably to the foot of the first climb, L’Ancienne Barrière (4.8 km, avg. 5%). By then it was raining. A cyclist from Oregon came alongside: “nice bike.” He had the same Trek bought this season, and said he’d wanted it in black (my color) instead of white. We chatted for a few minutes before he pushed ahead. I was about two minutes behind when he summited in pelting rain and started the first dangerous descent slick from rain and mud (road used by tractors and cars). As I picked up speed through the first three or four turns, suddenly there’s an ambulance and the Oregonian limping up an embankment, Madone trashed. Only three seconds or so to process the sorry scene, which made me even more cautious. We descended Côte de Brume towards Trois-Ponts on a rougher road before starting the well-known Côte de Wanne of Liège-Bastogne-Liège, a 4.5 km climb with an average of 5%. Before the ascent I was in a couple of pace lines mostly with Europeans, the smoothest I’ve ever ridden in. The first “refreshment break” consisted of guys handing out water bottles, a liquid energy drink, and energy bar. We grabbed things; no stopping. Falling further behind, I reached Stavelot’s pavés ending the first loop (68 km) 24 minutes behind the leaders. Lots of cheers and beating of plastic barriers through town. Passed mud-streaked riders who had abandoned and were putting bikes into cars and vans. Motorcycle support ended when the gap reached 30 minutes. Disheartened and cold, survival for an inglorious finish was foremost.  

Loop 2: The race guide states: “There is not much time to greet supporters. The legendary Côte de la Haute Lévée awaits like a hungry lion to tear apart the entire pack. There is a steep ascent from the first metres … the beast has a grip on you and does not want to let go.” The 3.6 km climb was constantly around 10%. After a brief descent came another classic, the Côte de Rosier, a long steep climb (4 km) through a beautiful forest to the highest point on the course (81 km, 545 metres). For about fifteen minutes it rained buckets, plowing through an inch or more of water. The wind picked up, with hypothermia and the first tinges of cramps from not eating, dismounting, and inadequate water intake. I saw an infrequent fellow suffering rider, but rode alone through long sections of forest (“the loneliness of the long-distance cyclist”), not feeling part of an organized race. The final 10 km included the classic Côte de Wanne (2 km, 7.6% with halfway sections of 12%) and an extremely dangerous drop into the village of Wanne with two blind hairpin curves, leaving a memorable 4 km to go. From the guide: “The sting is in the tail as the hardest climb of the day is in the final section. After an extremely fast descent, it is best to switch to the lowest gear, as what follows seems like a wall. The foot of the legendary Côte de Stockeu lies just 2.8 km from the finish, making it the absolute executioner. Until the top of the Eddy Merckx monument [a beautiful bronze relief encased in rock], there is a kilometre with percentages that never go below 11%. Halfway, there is a section where you even have to accelerate in order to not fall over.” This horrific climb is on a winding narrow one-lane road. When I came around one curve the steepest section looked like a wall. I figured there had to be a side road, as it appeared impossible to ascend. I’d been up on pedals the entire climb; now I had to really dig deep and lean in to keep the front wheel on pavement. After a glance on the top at the best cyclist of all times, a final harrowing descent into old Stavelot via a small bridge then on pavés to the finish line, almost lanterne rouge (4:16:50, 185^th overall, 31^st in age group). I picked up two water bottles and slowly rode 2 km back to the car.

Lessons: amazing eye-opening humbling experience and reality check – newfound respect for abilities of amateur competitors; wholly unprepared for high-level international competition; training glaringly inadequate; unfamiliar with and severely underestimated the courses and competition – arrived in Belgium too late, didn’t ride or drive routes beforehand (sightseeing instead!); thrilling to be cheered in many languages; Madone performed impeccably; never play soccer or cycle with Europeans!

Having never ridden a century in Utah before it’s hard for me to judge the Ride for a Reason’s claim of being the “Toughest Century in Utah.” After finishing the ride this past weekend I’m inclined to believe them as it was definitely the hardest single day of riding I’ve ever done. In total we road 101 miles with an elevation gain of 7,400 feet.

I was coerced into making the trip by my good friend David, at least I thought he was a good friend. I’m sure over time I will forgive him, but probably not until my body recovers. It was a brutal day made even more challenging by the fact I flew in the day before and never had a chance to acclimate to the altitude. As any lowlander who rides at altitude can attest…there’s no oxygen up there. My trepidation about the altitude began the afternoon before when, shortly after arriving, David and I did an easy 20 mile loop to warm up and get comfortable on our bikes. Mine was a rental (thank you Jan’s for the great set of wheels) and David had just picked up his new ride. I sucked wind for almost the entire ride.

The next day we arrived early for the start and out of the gate the ride went straight uphill.  We started with the climb up Emigration Canyon and before the incline really hit I was sucking wind yet again. Fortunately a couple of miles in I found my pace and eased into steady tempo. Just as I was getting comfortable I was passed by a group of 20 riders from the United Healthcare team and Larry H Miller team. I pushed my limit a little, and was able to latch on to the back of the group and let them help drag me up the mountain.

About two thirds up the canyon I caught up with David who, I think let up to wait for me.  At the same time the road took a sharp righthand turn onto a set of switchbacks for the final three miles.  The steepness grew at this point and I was finally dropped by my saviors and left to fend for myself. David wanted to test his legs and kept with group and we met at the top of the climb overlooking a gorgeous view of Little Dell Reservoir and the Wasatch Mountains.

From there we enjoyed a short descent before heading up the second climb to the top of Big Mountain, the easy side (note: this will be important later). As we were at the steps of the climb a pretty amazing thing happened. We were passed by the largest group of motorcycle riders I had ever seen. The group was led by a some fifty motorcycle policemen and women then followed by what had to be three hundred more riders, mostly on Harleys. It probably took them ten to fifteen minutes to get by us.

The climb itself was long and steady, and steep in sections, but bearable at this early stage. This climb was shorter, a mere six miles and we soon found ourselves at the top of Big Mountain with an even more spectacular view in all directions. Sixteen miles into the ride we had already climbed more than 3,000 feet.

The next 18 miles were a mixture of a big downhill, some rolling roads, a short, but steep climb and then six miles of a steady descent into the next rest stop in Henefer. The big downhill and steady descent become important later as this was an out and back ride.

The next leg was great for two reasons. First, it was almost entirely flat. The only time we got out of our saddles was because we needed a quick change in position to get comfortable again.  Secondly, shortly after leaving the rest stop we were passed by three riders who we were able to join and  the five of us started a pace line taking two minute pulls until the halfway point.  We were pushing the pace much faster than David and I would have gone (averaging between 21 and 23 mph) and we were thrilled about clicking off more miles in less time.

At the mid-point rest stop one of the three we joined got a flat and struggled to get it fixed. After another fifteen minutes David and I decided it wasn’t good to let our legs get an tighter and so we left before the other three ( who never caught us and ultimately finished a good ten to fifteen minutes behind us). For the next thirty miles we alternated leading (except when it got steep) and ended up at the base of the Big Mountain climb…the HARD side.

The rest stop was well situated at the base of the climb and we stopped to prepare for the suffering. The problem was, we had already been suffering for the last thirteen miles. Remember the long steady descent I mentioned earlier…

So there we were, at mile 80 and feeling the effects of the last section.  At least we had the toughest climb of the day to look forward to :)  It hardly seems fair to put a climb like this so far into a ride unless you’re battling it out for the maillot-jeune or poka-dotted jersey. Nevertheless, the 5 mile and more than 1,500 feet climb loomed.

After a few minutes of rest, fuel and rehydration we threw our legs over the top tube and began the grind to the apex of the ride. To call this a grueling climb might be the biggest understatement of the year.  Although we really didn’t climb together, we alternated the lead (usually 50-100 yard apart), we neared to summit at almost the exact same time.  The complete and utter exhaustion took over and I nearly collapsed into the nearest chair…and there was still fifteen mile to go. We both took a few minutes to gather our wits, which I think we both may have left somewhere below on the climb before embarking on the end of our journey.

The good news was it was almost all downhill and all we had to do was coast, except for one small climb out to Emigration. And that’s what we did until my ego took hold.

By  way of background, I’ve never finished a Century in under 6:30. In fact, I’ve never really tried. With six miles to go on the descent of Emigration I realized we were at 6:15 riding time and the speeds were fluctuating between twenty and thirty MPH. So, rather than coast our way to the finish, we dug deep and pedaled our way down Emigration. We stopped the clock literally with seconds to go (6:29:49) and we were done…in more ways than one.

Yes, David and I are still friends, although I may be picking the century we do next year…this is becoming an annual tradition.

Sorry for the longer than normal post, but it all seemed important. In fact, many interesting things were left out including: the bloody nose, the bee sting on the lip, and the near fall.

Until next time…

I think we missed the signs. It was dark and raining when we set out from our hotel at 6:15 am. Our path was illuminated by the intermittent flashes of lightning.  On the short ride to the start I’m pretty sure I saw a man in a robe. In and of itself a little surprising, but it was the animals following him that should have raised our suspicion. They represented all different species and lined up in pairs. I wonder if there was room for us on the boat.

We continued on to the beginning of the ride where we found the start had been delayed so they could clear the course of debris such as fallen trees blocking the road. Again, you might think this a sign…but not us. Finally, word passed through the group that the longest of the three rides was being cancelled due to the weather. Okay, makes sense…must be safer to ride 75 miles and skip that last 25. Of course, we set out to conquer 75 miles fully drenched and eager to rid ourselves of the chill that had taken hold while we waited for the start.

The ride itself was quite beautiful and there was a period in the middle when the rain actually stopped. The climbs were steep and plentiful but it was the downhill sections that were the most terrifying.

It didn’t take long for us to warm up and get into a good rhythm. The rooster tail of water flowing off of the wheel of the rider in front of you made it difficult to draft, which probably made it safer. Shortly after our first rest atop (roughly mile 25) the rain actually began to let up allowing us to shed some rainwear, which by this time was serving no real purpose. I don’t think we could have been any more wet.

At this point we fell into a pretty good pace and the miles ticked off relatively quickly, although the break in the rain didn’t last very long. In an effort to finish more quickly we skipped another rest stop. It worked out well as we didn’t run low on water (as if that were possible on a day so wet). We fueled up one last time and headed back out for the final 25 miles.

This is when it started to rain really hard. Now, you might be asking what’s the big deal, you’ve been on the road for more than three hours and you’re already wet. Well, with it raining much harder than before it became more challenging to see as the speed picked up. Glasses were a tough option as they further obscured your vision and no glasses meant you were tilting your head downward to avoid being pelted. So of course, we kept our heads down and continued full speed ahead.

Finally, we were nearing the finish with less than three miles to go and we began to feel like we were going to soon be peeling off the layers of wet gear and begin the drying process. At this point I turned to look over my shoulder and was surprised to see the Steve was not behind me. Circling back I found him standing next to his bike looking at a rear flat tire. Normally this would be a minor annoyance that would delay our finish however earlier that week an upgrade from clincher to tubular tires made fixing this flat not an option. We agreed Marcus and I would continue on to get the car and meet him either on the route back or at the finish. Accounts of this vary and Steve will say we abandoned him, but in the end we all connected and were happy to be in some dry clothes comparing this ride against other weather affected ones. For me it was the third worst, but I’ll leave those stories for another time.

Next up for me…”Utah’s Toughest Century” this coming weekend

Ahhhhh, the Sierra’s!

Sam & Russ tackled the 7.5 mile west side of Mount Rose Highway 431 from Incline Village-Crystal Bay at Lake Tahoe (6,400 feet) to the Mount Rose Summit (8,900). It was a beautiful warm day with the lake glistening, virtually no wind. It’s a steady climb, 6-8 percent grade, with a wide shoulder. We saw about ten other bikers going up or down. Halfway we stopped at a popular view area with directional markers pointing to notable peaks in the Sierra Nevada range that surround Lake Tahoe. The first half of the climb seems slightly steeper, although there are no significant inclines. The two-lane road is wide and well maintained with gentle curves. We rested at the alpine meadow, about two miles from the summit, where a slight cross breeze helped cool us down. The summit has a small visitor’s center and hiking trails to the ski resort. A sign claims it’s the highest Sierra summit open year round. From the summit you can see Reno. 431 East to Reno (17 miles) features hairpin curves. There’s not much oxygen as you climb, but the temperature cools and winds pick up at the meadow. After a few minutes at the summit we descended for more photos and bombed to the overlook. Fabulous lake views every mile. It’s a fast sweeping descent, easy to hit 50+ mph if you’ve got the nerve and avoid infrequent drainage grates (there’s about a foot between them and the white shoulder line). Time up was about 1.5 hours; descent 15 minutes. We cooled off in the lake later that afternoon.

(Guest post by Mitch Brush)

I think the bike and I are finally becoming one.  The hills were nothing
like southern France, they were just long and grinding.  Demoralizing more
than anything.  Grasshopper pass was almost 13 miles from top to bottom.  It
just seemed like you could never get to the top until finally you crested
this false summit.  Then back up again…  I was ready to cry (openly - with
big tears). 

The back side was great for about 2 miles and then it flattened out.  How
depressing - it almost didn’t seem worth the climb.  And then it just slowly
pointed downhill.  At one point just before lunch… we were smoking along
averaging 32-33 mph for almost 6 miles right into the lunch stop.  Pristine
pavement, slight decline, tail wind, and Coltin Sweeney (Cat 3 rider)
pulling the train.  Had another group on the road trying to blast past us
but they just couldn’t close the door.  It makes me smile just thinking
about it two days later.

Colin finished 2nd by the way.  He’s onto Nationals in the road category and
will race the TT this weekend (and will most likely qualify for that too).

Lunch - and then follow the Wise River to the interstate where we catch the
frontage road all the way into Dillon.  I’m feeling good but my butt is
tired.  I pedal for a mile and then out of the saddle to get some blood back
into my nether regions.   

Last stop before town, they call it the ice cream/apple pie stop.  I just
couldn’t get past the thought of putting dairy into my system after 108
miles under my belt.  I was sweating and drinking plenty of fluids.  Ice
cream just didn’t even remotely sound good.  Topped off both bottles with
Heed and back out onto the road.  15 miles from town… last
hill/mountain/wall/Everest…  Back to my granny gear and grind away for
three miles.  The top is just out of sight… 

Days later… I make it to the top and off in the distance I can see the
booming metropolis of Dillon.  Tuck my head and coast for two miles… next
stop Dillon.  I look up and Dillon doesn’t seem any closer.  Head back down
and two miles later… Why isn’t Dillon getting any closer?  It seems as
though it were a mirage.  I was thinking about commissioning Stephen King to
write a novel “The Town That Never Came”.  We drive on and on and on.  I
feel like I’m on a huge treadmill and our group is stuck on this hamster
wheel. 

The next thing is we’re at the finish line.  Wow what a day.  I’m gassed.  I
feel good but I’m smoked…  Too soon to think about next year.  Give me a
few more days.

My legs feel good today.  I will do a short recovery ride after work today
to get some more lactic acid flushed.  It was an incredible weekend.  Next
time - you’re coming with me…         

Chief M.O. Brush

Mitch seems to be enjoying the ride.

What an amazing birthday present. I’ve written individually about some of the bigger rides of the Trek Travel cycling trip I was on last week and thought I’d wrap everything up.

The riding was phenomenal, as you by now know. Whether it was a short 24 mile warm-up ride to kick off the trip or the epic Mt Baldy climb the routes were all spectacular(Quick update re: Mt Baldy…found out my Garmin also capture grade and max grade on Mt Baldy was 22%). The routes in each of the areas we road consisted of a good mix of rolling hills and climbs. In some cases, more climbing than I think most of us were expecting, but overall it was a great mix of terrain.

We wrapped the week up with a classic ride up past the Rock Store on Mullholland Highway between Malibu and Calabasas. The Rock Store is a famous biker restaurant frequented by many celebrities. Ed and Vern (owners or Rock Store) are celebrities to all the their patrons. The route is also used for many of the pro cycling teams for training. It was a great way to finish the trip. My legs were still screaming at me for the entire five mile 6% grade climb, but we ended the week with a nice easy descent to finish everything off.

When all is said and done I would highly recommend Trek Travel for any cycling adventure you’re considering. One of the best organized trips I’ve been on and our guides (Rebecca and Dan) were fantastic. I made some great new friends and would do another trip with them without a question.

Look for pictures to be posted soon.

On tap for yesterday was Mt Baldy. It was to be our queen stage, just like in the Amgen and all I have to say is Holy S@%!#. Arguably the last climb of our route was the hardest I have ever done (including Alp D’huez).

The day started out early with a 5:00 transfer to our starting point for the day. Our plan was to ride the same final 25 miles the pros would ride later in the day. In all, there was more than 6,500 feet of climbing for us and nearly 15,000 for the guys who get paid to suffer.

The warm-up was short as we began our initial ascent two miles from our starting point. Although it was gradual to start it didn’t take long for the grade to become steady at about 6%…which is what we road for the next eight miles. Although it was a seemingly never ending pitch, is wasn’t too steep and I was able to settle in to a nice east tempo and keep my heart rate in check. As we climbed out of the valley the vistas on either side of the road continued to get better and better. As discouraging as it seemed that there was no end to the climb around each corner the views helped create a welcome distraction.

Once the initial ten miles were out of the way we continued across the ridge with a lot of ups and downs, and few flat sections. These sections lead to Mt Baldy Village where the big climb starts. As we traveled through a final downhill toward Mt Baldy thousands of fans were lining the road in preparation for the Amgen which passed through this section of road on two occasions. First about eight miles in, then again on the as the final launchpad for the climb up Mt Baldy.

After making a left hand turn the road again turns up for the beginning the five mile climb. The first mile lulls you into a false sense of security as the gradients vary from 5-8%. A couple of steep sections get the heart racing, but all in all everything was still manageable. Then you cross a bridge and the road starts to go up. for the next three miles or so you’re riding average grades of 8-10% with an occasional reprieve (usually too short) of 5-6%. Around mile two is where the switchback begin and the steepness of their corners forced me to take each corner wide to lessen the pitch wherever possible. Between mile three and four there was a short pitch of around 12%  which leads to, believe or not, a short downhill. A quick rest as the downhill flattens out and the final climb is in front of you. This is where it gets very steep. In particular, there are two sections with 16% grades. Now, I’ve ridden this steepness before, but not for these lengths. Each section was probably between 200 and 300 meters long. That doesn’t sound like a lot, but when your standing on your pedals trying to keep you bike moving in an uphill direction it seems like an eternity. Fortunately, the final couple hundred meters do flatten out some (it’s all relative) and I crossed the finish-line as tired as I’ve ever been after any climb.

The good news was the VIP tent immediately adjacent to the finish line that awaited. Lots of food, water and we were able to watch the queen stage unfold on TV before being able to watch Levi and Chris Horner cross the line together cementing their lead in the Amgen. It was amazing to watch the climb on TV and know the severity of the the pitch of the road they were climbing. And to see the speed at which they were flying up the mountain was incredible. I guess that’s why I was in the tent enjoying a meal while they were doing what they were doing