Gastrobiking

4314

A few weeks ago Josh, a regular Gastrobiker, sent us an account of a memorable ride he had done in Colorado, where he now lives, and offered it up as a guest post on our blog, which has been neglected over recent months.  I have been so busy over the past few weeks that I have only just had time to read it and look at the pictures. With the Marmotte only a couple of weeks away, now seems an appropriate time to post it, so thanks Josh.  We hope to see you again soon

Soph

4314 meters (or 14,154 feet for non-metric people)...  It's the highest point in North America (and Europe for that matter) where one can ride a road bike.  The location of this famous piece of pavement is the summit of Mt. Evans, Colorado, situated about 30 miles west of Denver in the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains.  Having moved to Colorado earlier this year, the prospect of riding up Mt. Evans was high on my list of rides to do.  The road opened for the season last weekend and yesterday I made the bold decision to make a summit attempt.  The ensuing ride was undoubtedly one of my most challenging (both mentally and physically) and I experienced some of the harshest weather ever on a bike.

 

My memorable day began with a 4:30 AM wakeup.  My plan was to start the ride in Golden (a suburb of west Denver) and I wanted to be on the road riding by 6:30.  The reason for such an insanely early start was to minimize the risk of getting hit by thunderstorms.  Afternoon thunderstorms in the Colorado mountains in late spring / early summer are a common occurrence and yesterday's forecast was typical; a 40% chance of afternoon storms.  With a 6:30 start in mind, I anticipated reaching the summit by 11:00 and being off the mountain out of harms way by noon should the inevitable happen.

 

Golden, the starting point of my ride, sits at an elevation of roughly 1800 m.  It's not hard to see that there's at least 2500 m of climbing in a little over 50 miles.  The actual amount of vertical gain to the summit is likely well over 3000 m as there are a couple of short descents and some rolling hills along the way.  (I wish Powertap could measure vertical gain!)  Heading south out of Golden, the first 10 miles of the route was rolling as I rode by Red Rocks Park towards Morrison.  (For those of you who have the Evergreen DVD for the Tacx Fortius trainer, you would recognize this part of the route!)  The temperature was around 15C; comfortable but somewhat discerning knowing how much colder it would 2500 m above.

Out of Morrison, I headed west to Evergreen where the road climbed very gradually through Bear Creek Canyon gaining around 400 m of elevation in about 10 miles.  I continued along the very undulating Evergreen Parkway to Bergen Park where a much needed water stop was made.  Heading west out of Bergen Park, the proper climb to Mt. Evans began. A mileage sign indicated 32 miles to the summit.  The first part of the climb was a steady 14 mile ascent to Squaw Pass summit at 3400 m.

 

A short descent brought me to Echo Lake with the junction of the Mt. Evans Highway and the tollbooth where I paid the obligatory $3 toll.  It was now 9:45 and I felt confident that I could climb the remaining 1200 m in 14 miles to reach the summit by 11:00.  The temperature had dropped to around 10C, but I was still comfortable riding in summer kit.  The prospect of thunderstorms anytime soon seemed highly unprobable; there were only a few high thin clouds and the summit was visible.

Beyond the tollbooth, I could see the road winding up the mountain. The views looking east towards Denver were stunning. The effect of climbing for nearly four hours was beginning to take its toll. My legs seemed okay; I just felt very drowsy.  I was still putting out a sub-threshold heartrate (as I had been doing for almost the entire ride up to this point), but my power output was embarrassingly diminished. The consistent 5% grades felt like 10% at sea level.  Holding 200W was a struggle; unbelievable given my HR and the fact that my threshold power is 300W at sea level!  But I didn't really care about the numbers.  I only wanted to ride within my capabilities while enjoying the breathtaking scenery.

 

With 10 miles to go, I was now above treeline and completely vulnerable to the elements.  A group of cyclists came whizzing by in the opposite direction and gave me a thumbs up.  A few thicker clouds had developed but I decided to continue on.  I reached Summit Lake at 3950 m with another five miles to go.  At this point I was beginning to get rather nervous.  It was overcast and a few grains of snow started to fall.  I stopped to put on my gillet and my winter gloves.  As I rounded Summit Lake, I could not believe what I heard; a deafening bang of thunder followed by the sight of lightening in the distance.  The forecast was for afterNOON thunderstorms, i.e. after 12:00.  It was only 10:45.  I debated whether to abandon my attempt.  I thought to myself that if I were to abandon it would still be about a half hour descent until I could get into some shelter.  But I also knew that there would be shelter at the summit.  I could always wait out any storm at the top if need be.  With arm warmers, a gillet and thick gloves, I didn't actually feel too cold.  I decided to press on for a bit and at the very least try to get above 4000 m.  Shortly before my GPS registered an elevation of 4000 m, there were a few more rumbles of thunder but thankfully no lightening.  But the light snow grains had turned to a pelting hail.

Despite the hail turning to snow with a mile to go, I didn't feel too cold (yet).  It must have been a surge of adrenaline which was regulating my temperature.  At last, I reached the summit at around 11:15.  A kind group of skiers remarked that it was 29F (-2C).  I got off the bike to walk around and take a few pictures.  The visibility was very poor.  It was still snowing and I didn't feel like waiting around for the storm to pass as my legs were beginning to tremble.

About to begin the mother of all descents, I realized that I couldn't clip in.  The skiers were right; it was definitely below freezing as I discovered that my cleats were encased in a solid block of ice.  Shaky legs and an unstable platform to place my shoes would only make the descent more unnerving.  If you've ever done the Marmotte and have stayed at Alpe d'Huez the night before, you might know what it's like descending to Bourg d'Oisans at 6:00 AM.  My descent off of Mt. Evans was in a different league of its own.  It was the coldest I have ever experienced on a bike.  The descent was prolonged having to be extremely cautious, not only because of the lack of instability due to my legs and non-functioning pedals, but also due to the slushy roads and reduced visibility.

 

The descent seemed to take forever.  About 12 miles into the descent, I reached a ranger's hut where I decided to stop in hopes that the hut might be heated in an attempt to warm up.  The snow at the summit had turned to a light rain and so there was nothing to lose by stopping and waiting out the storm.  I walked into the hut, legs still trembling and teeth chattering, and unfortunately couldn't locate a warm fireplace!  The ranger obviously took notice of the state I was in and offered to let me sit in his car to warm up.  I gratefully accepted his offer and sat in the car with the heat on full blast for ten minutes.

 

With my spirits lifted, I thanked the ranger and resumed the long descent.  The rain had stopped and the roads were dry but it still looked threatening.  The next 16 miles or so of descent towards Idaho Springs was brilliant, barely needing to apply the brakes at all.  Out of Idaho Springs, the route headed back east towards Denver on a combination of bike paths and state roads running parallel to the interstate. This 10 mile section caught me by surprise as it was far from downhill and featured two short climbs.  At last, the rolling hills subsided and I began the final descent of the day off of Lookout Mountain into Golden.  Lookout is Denver's little version of Alpe d'Huez and the views heading down were equally impressive.

I ended up riding 107 miles in 7 1/2 hours.  Compared to the Marmotte route, I would say (based on my Marmotte time) that today's ride was somewhat easier, only because it ended with a descent and not with a 13 km climb at 8%. But, certainly the difficulty of the first 100 miles of today's ride is comparable to the Marmotte circuit minus Alpe d'Huez.  Overall, today's ride was one of my most memorable and enjoyable.  I highly recommend the route if you're ever in the Denver area (but take note that more sensible people start in Idaho Springs, Bergen Park, or even the tollbooth at Echo Lake).

 

In hindsight, I realize that I probably should have turned around immediately when I saw the first flake of snow at Summit Lake.  But I had come so far and I was determined to reach the summit.  Understandably, it can be so hard to pack for a ride with such extreme temperature variations (it was 77F / 25C when I got back to Golden) especially on a road bike where you're limited to the amount of gear you can carry. Thank God I decided to stuff my winter gloves in my remaining free jersey pocket.  My hands were the only part of me which stayed warm and allowed me to control the bike on the treacherous descent of Mt. Evans.

 

A secondary goal of the ride was to survey the route in anticipation of the Mt. Evans hill climb which I have entered for the 18th of July.  Conditions should be more favourable as the race has an early morning start and begins in Idaho Springs (hence "only" a 28 mile climb compared to nearly 50+ miles if staring in Golden).  There's also a bag drop so staying warm on the descent will not be too much of a concern!

Thanks again Josh.  What a ride!  Sorry about the change in fonts - that sometimes happens when I copy and paste and I don't have time to work out why at the moment.

Ardechoise

We decided to do the 172 km circuit of the Ardechoise yesterday, as 'randonneurs' rather than 'sportivers', preferring to take our time to enjoy the scenery, atmosphere and food rather than rushing around trying to get a good time.  

We had a great time.  Here are a few pictures.

Ardechoise 09 from Sophie Natale on Vimeo.

Gorging in the Ardèche

We went riding in the south of the Ardèche today.  It was very sunny, very scenic and very quiet.  I love the topsy-turvy rollercoaster ride along the Gorges de l'Ardèche and the fierce head and cross winds did nothing to take away from the immense fun we shared.  I also love the friendly goats that roam along the side of the road.

It's the second time this year that I've ridden in shorts and that, too, felt fantastic. 

The highlight of the day, however, was the bakery stop at Vallon Pont d'Arc.  We've been there before but I don't think I've ever realised just how fabulous a bakery it is.  We spent the first five minutes in there in awe, gazing wide-eyed at the vast array of Easter chocolates and wonders of cake-making.

The next five minutes were spent trying to make a choice, with the shop assistant, who clearly thought we were staying the night, hovering to urge us on.  It wasn't an easy decision but I think we chose well.

Of course, the boys went for the most over-indulgent ones in the shop

whereas mine was just one of my 5-a-day! 

Bourne Groovy

The weather forecast was dismal for this afternoon so I thought a short ride this morning to try out my camera's time lapse video mode would be a good idea.  I was going to video the climb up the Bourne followed by the descent but the battery ran out before I got to the top so I turned around and went home.

Soph left before me and did the round trip up the Bourne and down the Goulets plus a bit around St André before the rain came down.

Phil had a day off the bike but did find some groovy but distinctive music for a soundtrack. This is the result.

Laurence

Die another day

Yesterday, Phil and I rode to Leoncel, Die and then the Col de Rousset. It is probably the hardest ride I have ever done with the exception of a few cyclosportives. The weather was ideal -at least at first.

The ride up to Leoncel and on to the Col de Bacchus was pleasant. The mist was disappearing and a tailwind gave us some assistance. The descent from the Col de Bacchus to Beaufort was, at times, fiercesomely quick because of the wind.  This was a marked contrast to the previous day when our speed on the flat into a vicious northerly wind during a randonnee from Chabeuil was about the same as our climbing speed to Leoncel.

The charge up the valley to Die was blessed with warm sunshine and a lovely coffee break in Saillans.

However, the heat deserted us on the climb up to the Col de Rousset. The wind that is often mentioned when that climb is discussed was in full cry too, alternating between being helpful and a major hindrance as one traversed the switchbacks. I felt exhausted and very cold with 5km of the climb to go. I struggled to stay in the same postal district as Phil.

Then we hit the tunnel which was as cold as a fridge, possibly colder judging by the ice hanging from the roof. I hoped that it would be warmer outside. That was a rash assumption - especially as people were skiing nearby. The return to St Nazaire was no fun because I could not warm up. In total, we did 96miles, more than 2000m of climbing and, if my heart monitor is to be believed, needed over 4500kcalories. We had a ride time of over 6hours 30 minutes. With stops for coffee and photography we were out for over 8 hours.

It is a ride I shall look back on with fondness. However not just yet.

Special Agent Laurence Bond

DIY man

During the last few days nearly everyone I've talked to has moaned about the lack of sunny weather this winter. Usually we get a week or two of clear blue skies during February and March but not this year. So far. However, according to the forecast, this week is promising to be rather good; obviously fitting in some nice warm weather before Laurence and Allen come out next week.

Yesterday afternoon, after spending most of the day getting the garden into some sort of presentable state, it was too much of a temptation to go for a quick spin. Seeing the Vercors basking in the sun I thought it would be warm enough to head up the Bourne and down the Goulets.

It must have been the earliest in the year that I have ridden in the Vercors and I did get some strange looks which I took to be from people surprised at seeing a cyclist up there in the middle of March. Soph reckons they were shocked to see someone wearing a 'tasteless Castorama jersey'!  I don't know what she means.

Grand Traverse of the Vercors

Yesterday was the 38th edition of the Grand Traverse of the Vercors which is one of the big x/c ski marathons. The conditions lived up to expectations with clear skies and a considerable depth of fresh snow. The timed event was started at 9am with the untimed randonnee being scheduled to start at 9.15. 

The atmosphere at the departure gate was strangely relaxed with few skiers appearing eager to set off. I'd bumped into Helyn from King of the Mountains while I was waiting and as we chatted, we realised why. The start was up a rather steep slope into the forest. 

In fact the first hour was mostly uphill with a couple of rather horrendous descents with churned up snow, head planting skiers and resulting craters to negotiate.

(The tricky descent)

(Looking north over the High Plateaux - the finish is somewhere in the distance)

After just over an hour I reached the first ravitaillement. I had done 8.5km. I was just having my first energy bar when I heard a voice call, 'Ah, Pheel, c'est pas vrai!'  It was Laurent who runs the newsagency in La Chapelle who was with a friend of his. 

(Desending through the trees)

We set off together and, as it turned out, we completed the rest of the route in each others company. The middle section consisted, on the whole, of long steady climbs and long gentle descents. It was nice to be on the High Plateaux again and be on tracks that I used to ski and mountain bike on when I before I moved to St.Nazaire.

After 30km I began to feel like I'd been skiing for three hours (excluding stops) and the realisation that things were about to get progressively worse began to linger. My feet were wet, my gloves soaking and my arms felt like I'd been doing weights for three hours, which in effect, I probably had.

(Traversing the hillside above St.Agnan)

(I don't think I was the only one feeling tired after 35km)

(The Three Musketeers five hours later)

I haven't done this event for a few years now and I spent the last hour remembering why.  It was a tough day but .... no pain, no pleasure!  It was a great day out.

More snow

We've had a couple of rainy days in St Nazaire this week and above about 300m that equated to more snow.  We took these whilst riding around Roybon and the Col de Toutes Aures today. 

When we got back, I got the skis waxed and ironed in preparation for the Traversée du Vercors x-c ski event tomorrow, which goes from Col de Rousset to Villard across the high plateau.  

It looks as though conditions will be the best they've had for years.  My preparation was finished off with a visit to see Philippe at the pharmacy for my supply of goodies that he keeps hidden away in his bottom drawer.  That should see me up the first climb.

Phil

La Moliere in the snow

Last night I thought I'd see how Dom's new pizza dough works with his exceptionally good Calzone pizzas and needless to say, it works very well. It's a slightly lighter pastry with a light crispiness to add to the Dom's Pizza Experience. So, after that rather high calorie contribution to my winter brioche, I decided to head up to Autrans and go x/c skiing, it being several years since I last skied up there.

It was a clear blue sky and there was a good covering of snow in the valley. Looking around before I set off my eye caught the ridge where lies the Moliere from where there is a fantastic view. Ski trail maps are rarely of any practical use and the one of Autrans is one of the vaguest I have come across. A quick trip to the Tourist Office reminded me why French tourist offices are not called Tourist Information Offices.

So with no idea how far it was, which tracks were the best to take or what the terrain was like, I thought the thing would be to set off and see how it went. After three hours of mostly uphill skiing and catching my breath, I emerged out of the trees to see a summit just ahead. The return took me 1 hour 10 mins with a max speed of 37.6kph.  Of course I could have gone faster but I might not have made it around some of the corners.

Back in Autrans a quick visit to our regular bakery/cafe couldn't be foregone. Afterall I had alledgedly burnt off 1886 calories.

Two hours

I normally have time to fit in a two-hour ride every day around work; some days I can stretch it to three and other days, when I don't get my act together with other stuff that needs doing, it's a run or a shorter ride.

So, my current favourite two-hour ride is

in either direction. 

Yesterday I did it in a clockwise direction ... St Romans, St Andre, Pont, Choranche via the road up to Presles, back to Pont, St Jean, home.  Today I did it in an anti-clockwise direction which was slightly quicker at 1hr59.  Phil went and did the same route whilst I was at work this afternoon in 1hr49.

It has everything I love about being on my bike: scenery, climbing and descending - 600m in total, short and quite steep (working pretty hard on my 39-25) - riding past my favourite French village complete with castle perched on hill, walnut groves, a peek up the Bourne and the wussy fact that I am never far from home in case of a mechanical so I won't be late for work.  Phil would add the fact that it goes past 7 excellent bakeries - a bakery coefficient of 1 bakery per 6.57 kms. 

What more could you ask for?