Gran Fondo Winthrop 2016: Ride Report

Vicious Cycle Gran Fond Winthrop 2016 was superb.  Beautiful photographs here, on Vicious Cycle Facebook.

When I woke up in Winthrop, the thermometer read less than 40 degrees, under clear skies.  At about 6:30 AM, I had coffee, oatmeal with Greek yogurt, and walnuts, and a banana. I went back outside. I pumped up the tires - about 37 psi in the front and about 43 psi in the back. Under my seat I put a toolkit, which consisted of a tube, a patch kit, a piece of plastic and tape in case of a cut tire, and two C02 cylinders. I also secured a small pump under my seat. I put two bottles on the bike, one Gatorade and one water.  I went back inside and filled the pockets of my cycling jersey with two rice cakes, two cliff bars, a caffeinated shot block, two energy jells, an extra tube and a C02 inflator.  (When I finished Gran Fondo Winthrop I still had one of the cliff bars and the two energy jells.)

I wore knee warmers, a cycling hat, ordinary bicycle gloves (in case of a fall and to help absorb road shock), and a long sleeved jersey on top of a a very thin layer. I also wore a watch. Not wanting to be distracted by heart rate information, I didn't wear a heart rate monitor. (I don't ride with a digital map/device. I don't want the distraction.)

I said good-bye to Kara and I rode about one mile to the start - in tights and an extra jacket - and I got my number.

At 7:45 AM I had a 20 oz. Gatorade, took off my tights and extra jacket. I waited at the start line and started to shiver. I always shiver at start lines.

We took off under a beautiful blue sky at 8:00 AM and the sun was flowing through the trees and lighting up some of the hills while the rest of the hills were in shadows. The initial pace was brisk but not too fast and I started to warm up, and after about 8 miles, I suppose, all was well and I hadn't taken any wind.

From Vicious Cycle Facebook.

As the climb started to steepen, I found myself alone, trying to find a good pace. And, I did find a good pace but I think it probably was just a little too hard. I stayed with it and, alas, rode alone. I passed a group of riders; then, a little further up a couple of riders went by me. At aid station #1, I picked up a bottle of water and continued. And, I was feeling quite good.

The last pitch to the top of climb #1 was steep but the bike worked well. In my 34x32T I got over the pass (without walking this year) and headed down, fast, but controlled, and I think fairly safely. But, who can tell? I just don't have a good feel for my limits.  A couple of times, I found that I was going faster than I could react to the changing and very rocky, rutty, and bumpy conditions. And, so I slowed down.  To my mind, the roads were extremely rough.

I road the up and downs (segment #3/6) quite well, passing three or four people and being passed by a couple of people. I tried to be gentle and to save my energy but it was challenging. On the last tough uphill, I lost my balance on some loose gravel. I had to put my foot down and walked for 20 meters.  Bummer.  But, okay. On the sharp downhills I rode conservatively. It was on the third downhill, I think, that Jake went by me on his moto and a rider followed Jake's line (very close the left slide of the road), at very high speed. I was amazed at how fast he was prepared to go. I wonder what advantages his wheels, tires, frame, and brakes might have given him (compared to my set-up).  There was no way I could do what he did.

Once down and then up and over the creek bed (where I flatted last year), I rode the long downhill at a steady and fast pace, trying to get a feel for the conditions.  Again, when I found that I was going so fast that I couldn't react to the changing conditions, I slowed down.  At no time did I feel that my front tire was about to wash out. So, that was good. But, who can tell until it washes out and its too late. Still I worried I would hit some big ruts and rocks and loose balance or control. Fortunately, that did not happen. I felt rocks crash hard into my rims three or four times; but, not burping.

For most of the downhill I was on my brakes constantly. On and off.  On and off.  And, my hands started to ache.  My arms were sore and I recognized that I needed to be cautious. I might not be able to react, simply (or obviously) because I was too tired.

Once on the pavement, the riding was fast and solid. I was able to see and avoid the bad patches; although, I had a hard time eating and drinking.

I got to aid station #2 in Conconully and took a banana and filled one bottle.  Sadly, by this point, I had only drunk three bottles - 20 oz. of Gatorade at the start and 40 oz. of water. I was in the hole by at least one bottle.  (I had eaten my two rice cakes and one bar, so that was good.)  On the uphill efforts, it was basically too hard to drink; on the downhills I was concentrating and I didn't feel safe. Unlike training, where I drink a lot, I probably wasn't sufficiently hydrated by aid station #2.

After the aid station, I peeked at my watch.  It was 11:56.  I was a little less than four hours into the ride.  I had ridden 48 miles and climbed about 6,000 ft. I was tired. The legs were kinda done. Indeed, I would never, ever, ever do a training ride at this level of intensity over four hours (I can't imagine what the heart rate monitor would have to say about the day's effort at this point).

Now, I had about 17 miles and about 4,000 ft. of climbing ahead of me to the top of the pass (segment #5/6 for the day) and then another 24 miles back down the valley.  I ate 1/2 of the shot block (caffeine included) and I drank a bottle of water, and I tried to find a good rhythm. As I went up the paved part of the climb, one guy flew by me at a fantastic pace. Beautiful peddling. Very impressive.  I went by another guy from 20/20 and we encouraged each other. Up a head I saw the colors of Brig Seidl's jersey and two other guys further up the road.

I kept the rhythm and closed on Brig's wheel.  I seemed to be doing fine.  And, for a moment I thought I would congratulate Brig on his excellent writing - I've enjoyed his posts on the Vicious Cycle Blog very much.  However, I thought the better of it; the circumstances just didn't seem appropriate.

Anyway, Brig's peddling rhythm was much better than mine. As I slowly started to slip off his wheel, I would put just a bit more effort into it. I tried to resist.  That worked for a while. But, Brig just kept peddling. And, soon enough, I recognized that this wasn't going to work. I needed to find my own pace, since I figured I had at least 12 miles until the pass.  So, I stopped trying to resist.  I slowed just a little I suppose and Brig went away, up the hill. That, I think, is an example of a little difference of aerobic efficiency.

(Update: Brig's writing about this episode caused my wife to laugh and laugh. Thanks for that Brig - makes all the training worthwhile even more so than it already was. For me, Brig's account very well captures the spirit of this project. Brig writes: 

"... But about 20 minutes later while we were still on the asphalt I perceived the presence of another gadfly approaching my rear wheel. And is that the clunky sound of vintage down tube shifters I hear? Has that relentless fiend from a different era, David Hendry, caught me on his 50 year old Raleigh? I dared not look back at this specter whoever it was. When you are mentally and physically vulnerable in the early stages of the last big climb it does not help your state of mind to see a bike that looks like it has been plucked from a case at the Smithsonian cruise past you with some grinning hellcat aboard. So I continued." 

See Brig's superb writing about Gran Fondo Winthrop 2016 here: http://rideviciouscycle.com/blog/
) 

Anyway, I climbed and climbed, trying to be as efficient as I could. I attended carefully to the road as the gradient ebbed and flowed and as the gravel changed a little bit here and there. For most the climb I was in 34x25T; on the steep parts I was in a 34x32T.

Toward the top, one guy from 20/20 (I think Aaron Ambuske) flew by me with beautiful peddling.  Just below the top of the pass, I ate the other half of the shot block and finished my last bottle.  So, including the 20 oz. at the start I had finished five bottles and I was about to hit six hours of riding.

I got over the top of the pass. On the short flat bit, I peeked at my watch for the second time that day -- unbelievably, it read 13:56.  It was precisely 2 hours since I had last looked at my watch. Therefore, it had taken me about two hours to do big climb #2 (segment #5/6).

However, the finish line was still 24 miles away, about 4,600 ft down in the valley (segment #6/6). So, I said to myself: "under 7 hours is perhaps possible, but follow the plan. Don't do anything stupid. Danger lurks at every corner and on every section of washboard (numerous)."

I tried to brake safely and efficiently. My hands and arms were dead.  I had trouble modulating the breaks.  I thought: Hey, perhaps I could just take a break and not brake for while and give my arms a rest.  What a stupid thought!! My back was sore and  I found that I was not sitting on the bike very well. I wasn't relaxed. That's got to be risky, more likely leading to a mistake. I tried to relax but my back and arms just weren't up to the task (just like last year!)

The washboard was a killer but the bike was cornering well and I've learned that going fast on washboard can be better than going slow. After 4 miles I went by aid station #3.  No stopping.  After all, I was trying for a sub 7 hour ride, and, all things considered, it seemed to be going well. From time to time, when the washboard got really bad I slowed way down and then let the bike go again until I started to bounce too much and I couldn't take it any more and I slowed down again. As I descended, it didn't get any easier.  After the aid station on the very bad washboard Warren Cornwall absolutely flew by me.  Unbelievable skill!  (I later learned that he was running 24 psi in the front tire and 25 psi in the back. Is that the secret?)l

Finally, I went over the bridge and the pavement began. About 14 miles to go. Things got easier.  Still, potholes and crappy pavement lurked all over the place. No longer were my arms dead, but I kept focussing. The peddling was good and I rode the little uphills and downhills fairly well, I think, trying to keep the momentum going.

I got to the finish!  I saw Karen and Eric, which was great!! I checked my watch for the third time and it read 7 hours and 2 minutes. Bummer - over 7 hours. Still, that was a good day!!!  No flats.  No crashes. Only one scary moment when I lost concentration for a bit and I got too close to the edge of some pavement on the last downhill.

I said to the time keeper: "Bummer, right, I didn't break 7 hours, right?"  And, she said "nah - you got 6:58." So, sillily, I felt that the day was extra awesome! Officially, I got 6:57:59, good for twelfth place - a very good day indeed, almost 60 minutes faster than last year.  I guess my watch was a little bit ahead on the day. (After I lost Brig's wheel, he kept going and he came in with a time of 6:48:03, good for 7th place.  Great climb, Brig!)  Results here.

The winner, Evan Plews, evidently rode a single speed. Really? How's that possible? How fascinating!!!  That's insane. His time: 6:08 (about 14% ahead of me). He must know how to peddle really, really, really well. What kind of penalty - and I assume there was a BIG one - did he take on his very cool single speed?  What was the gear ratio?  That is simply beyond my comprehension. What don't I understand?

(Update: I read on the Facebook that it was a 42x16T. That's insane. If we assume, 35mm tires and 700c rims and a cadence of 120 rpm, that gear will have you going about 25 mph and 130 rpm gives you about 27 mph).  So, that explains why I didn't pass Mr. Plews on the first part. Ha! No kidding! On the uphills?  If Plews were riding 70 rpm, he would be going a little more than 14.5 mph, 50 rpm would give him about 10.5 mph, and 40 rpm would give him about 8.5 mph. See BikeCalc.com. So interesting - what a performance!  I'm so lucky to be able to be out on those roads with such amazing athletes. Okay, Mr. Plews:  What were your tire pressures? And, how much did that bike weigh? And, did you find the roads a little rough? So many questions ...)

So, back to reality so to speak, I learned a lot at Gran Fondo Winthrop 2016:

1. Fun.  These rides are fun. 
2. The wheels. My hand built wheels came out of the ride just as they went into it.  The tire set-up, which was causing me problems (previous post), worked. That was great.  And, I had no flats. No burped tires. No lost bottles. No lost pumps. (See last year.)
3. Eating and drinking. I need to find places on these Gran Fondos where I slow down for the purpose of eating and drinking. (That's what I do in training; hence, why wouldn't I do that in these rides.) That would be a better thing to do than not eating and drinking.  It was a pretty stupid to eat and drink differently than I do in training. While I successfully ate and drank after climb #1 after the first little descent on the flat section, I would have been better off to slow (perhaps stop) somewhere at the top of downhill #1 to drink and eat. 
4. Downhills. I need to learn more about how to ride safely on the downhills.  I'm not interested in going any faster. Part of the skill of riding downhill must be tire pressure.  If I were riding on 10 lbs less air pressure (27 psi on the front and 34 psi on the back) what would the downhill experience be like?  Would the riding be more secure? Would the washboard be better? How much benefit might one obtain by practicing the downhills 3-4 times prior to the ride and then scouting the downhills the day before the ride, so that you know quite well what is coming? My guess is that both of these factors - air pressure and specific knowledge for the downhills - would make a huge difference, giving a better margin of safety. 
5. Uphill efficiency and tire pressure.  I think I was unnecessarily bouncing off rocks when climbing.  My guess, on reflection, is that a lower tire pressure would make many of those rocks disappear and I be more efficient and loose less energy. The bouncing is just not helpful. I have a lot more to learn about tire pressure.  
6. Pace and patience. My goal was to get to climb #2 feeling good.  I didn't meet that goal. I expended a bit too much energy early on. So, I could only survive climb #2 and not push it. So, while I was in the ballpark, I didn't have sufficient fitness to handle (or recover) from the effort at the beginning. 
7. Core fitness. I've learned that everything begins with planks, crunches, and bridges.  More of that kind of thing is needed for next year. 
8. Training.  I think the basic approach has been working. This is what I need to do: A little more volume and a little more intensity. That said, more importantly, I think I need more variation and rest within and, especially, across weeks. That will be a key goal for 2017: More variation; easier easy rides and harder hard rides.  
9. The bike. While steel is real, my 1969 frame is heavy. (I have yet to weigh it but I should. I've been worried if I knew how heavy it was I would be psychologically freaked out.  Ha!) At this point in my fitness, I think a lighter bike and perhaps loosing 4 lbs (from 151 to 147) and staying there would be very helpful. In other words, I could easily get rid of a total of 8-12 lbs. Given my level of fitness, I think that would make a difference. 

So, big thanks to Vicious Cycles.  Superb organization.  Superb terrain.  Super riders. Loved the pizza. It's good to be alive - that was a lot of fun. Each of the rides I've done this year - Leavenworth, Ellensburg, and Winthrop - has been remarkable - great landscapes and tremendous challenge.  Good fun. And, so much more to learn. Thanks Jake & co.