Alpen Challenge

I am always scanning Datasport, Switzerland’s race organizer, for cool events. Not so long ago I came across an event the Alpen Challenge. There were two different races, one classic which was 136km over 2 passes with 3000 meters of climbing or the challenge at 220 km long with 4000 meters of climbing, ascending 4 passes. The race was over in Graubunden, the farthest east canton where I had never visited, I decided to do the longer race to also do a little double duty sightseeing. So on Saturday, yesterday, I loaded up the Green Gremlin with all of my biking gear and drove 5 hours over to Pappan, a small town near the start of the race. There is no direct way to get there on the main auto routes so you do this circuitous route to get there. It was fun to drive over and since my car’s stereo doesn’t work I improvised by bringing my Ipod speakers and jamming on that.

The drive

I checked into my hotel, an absolute bargain in the Swiss world at 67 francs a night. I then went over to the start where and grabbed my numbered bib. At the check in I was immediately overwhelmed by the other riders. Everyone looked like they had just been in the Tour de France. Everyone was skinny, with shaved legs, and calves the looked like a nest of snakes were trapped just below the skin. I seriously thought that there was a good chance that I would finish last in this event. I got my bib and spent the rest of my night getting ready. I had the vegetarian dinner at the restaurant next door. It was a fried cheese patty with fries. Delicious. Back at my hotel every guest was there for the bike race. I chatted with a few in German and then retired to my room for an early bedtime.

The Grischalodge, my hotel.

4:30 wake up. Always painful. The hotel had a 5 o’clock breakfast for the racers. I had the usual, bread and cheese and musli. Put on the spandex and off to the race. In the early morning it was chillier than I had anticipated. After putting together my bike and pumping up the tires I then had a 20 minute debate with myself about whether to bring it. It was going to be warm that day and since I had already stuffed my bike jersey with 6 packages of clif blocks, my phone, and a GPS there wasn’t much room for my jacket. I decided to leave it.

Shivering in the starting block I waited with more than 700 people who were also racing. This was really my first bike race. I had done time trials for triathlons and some fun event rides, but this was the first really serious cycling competition that I had been in. I am always so nervous at the start of these events and my shaking probably was as much nerves as the cold. With a funf, vier, drei, zwei, eins, go, we were off. The first 10 km is all downhill. It is really scary to be zooming down a small road with bikers all around you. My first goal of the day was not to crash in the first 10 km. I managed this but there was an exciting moment when the rider, just in front of me, tire blew. I discovered that my cycling computer wasn’t working which was a mixed blessing since sometimes I tend to fixate on it too much.

Self Potrait at start.

In bike racing there is a lot of strategy. In many sports going your hardest as much as possible is usually the best strategy. Not so in biking. Since drafting plays such a big part going hard only invites other cyclist to sit on your wheel and then when you tire leave you behind as the pedal by with their fresh legs. I know I had a long day so I made two decisions. The first was to be conservative in the beginning. The second was not to be a hero. When I ride with my friends I like going to the front and cranking hard but I knew this was going to be a recipe for disaster in this race.

After the first descent the nature of the race changes with a 25 km climb from 900 meters to the Abula Pass, 2300 meters. I knew that I had lost a lot of ground with my slow descent and starting near the back, but since climbing is my strength I used this section to gain some ground. I passes a lot of riders and cranked my way up. I was careful not to go too hard remembering my strategy. About two thirds of the way up I met up with a group of riders who had a pace similar to mine. I decided that this was the group for me.

Profile of race.

There was an Italian on a very distinctive orange Cannondale. Usually in every race I find someone about my ability and mental make them my main competition. Though it was very early in the race I decided that IOC (as he will now be referred to, Italian Orange Cannondale) was that man. There were about 5 others in this group that I would see repeatedly throughout the day.

I made it to the top at a good pace. I managed to break away from my small group 2km from the top. Then there is a long descent to the St. Moritz valley. I fancy myself a bold descended, but a crash this summer along with another near wipeout had made me more cautious. I quickly learned that I was downright slow compared to my fellow racers. I was blazed by guys flying down. Honestly I am not sure how they could go so fast. It was hairball the speeds we were descending. I discovered a new awesome tactic. I actually liked when guys got in front. There were a few slat sections and when I saw that I could accelerate down the end of the hill and catch them and get a free ride for a few km until the descend picked up again. In the end I could deal with being slower on the descents because it seemed that I could catch up easily enough.
In the town on La Punt the descent ends and there is a long 30 km flat to St. Mortiz.

I nearly made a fatal mistake here. At the bottom I slowed to drink some water and eat a clif block. While I was doing this I noticed my group had organized into a peloton and zoomed off. I panicked stuffed my snack in my jersey and all out sprinted to catch the pack. With a great effort I managed to close the gap at the expense of my legs. It was worth it. The peloton was cruising and latching onto the back I was able to just glide along without doing too much work. We passed other riders and picked up a few and by the time we were at St. Mortiz there were about 30 of us. In the peloton you take turns leading. The front rider goes hard and then after a short time breaks off and goes to the end. Then the next guy, the new front man takes over and this repeats through the whole line.

Pace line from last year's race.

Of course I ended up behind IOC. I only had to pull, become the front man, once and then I settled into the very back. It was such a big pack that the riders would rejoin the middle of the line rather than float 30 riders to the rear. I loved it. I never had to pull again and we were flying down the road and I was conserving a lot of energy. The only danger is getting dropped. If the front accelerates and manages to get some distance then you lose the peloton and the nice draft. Being in the very back you are most vulnerable to get dropped since anywhere in the 29 riders in front of me this could happen and I would be helpless. But I took my chances in order not to expend much energy.

At one point we came to a roundabout. I had seen a sign a while back indicating that this was the split in the two courses. Being in the back of the pack I couldn’t see a thing. I didn’t have time to read anything and I watched as 4 riders split off to the left and the rest went right. I just reacted. I figured I would go with the main group. Little did I know that I had chosen the classic route, a fact I wouldn’t discover until 2 hours after this split. But at the time I was having so much fun being in the pack I wasn’t too concerned.

We rolled along to the town of Silvaplana where the next big climb begins. Another 25km monster, the Julierpass rises up to 2200 meters. Our pack quickly dispersed. IOC took over the lead and I started slow but was able to slowly make it to the front of most the riders. I ended up riding with a group of about 5 riders. Though drafting no longer helps on the climb it is nice to have someone to pace yourself. There were three riders on the same team, RE Velo, and another stray rider so I rode with them. We made good time and I even turned it on a bit at the top the beat the riders I was with to the top. It was purely bravoado because the 30 seconds I gained were about to be erased on the descent.

Race Course

The last stage of the race was the most exciting and interesting. I was still in conservation mode since I wasn’t sure which course I was on. It is another huge descent and again many riders flew by me, including this guy in a Swiss National Team Jersey, who was beyond fearless and absolutely flew down, passing cars on the right, taking turns wide into the oncoming lane. How he is alive today with the type of riding I witness is beyond me.

After the steep descent had finished I made sure that I had stayed close enough to catch on to a group of 10 riders, including the RE Velo Team. Once again I stuck with my tactic of sitting in the very back. It was great, while they pedaled hard I literally coasted. It was a gentle downhill and I was ready to start riding more aggressively. I stuck with the line as we twisted and turned down the road. We passed a few cars ourselves on the right. As the road started to flatten I noticed another pace line ahead. My line had started to go through the rotation and slowly moved forward.

I had a lot of spare energy, since I hadn’t really pedaled hard for around 30 km. When it came my turn to take over the front of the line, I pushed the pace really hard. Being the lead guy is a double edge sword. Ideally you want to maintain the same pace, too fast and it causes the line to lose shape, too slow and you will be silently cursed by all the riders behind you. I always err on too fast, but usually it is way too fast. My struggles with my ego are the main culprit. So I charged ahead. I did my 50 pedal strokes and peeled off. To my surprise the group of 10 had crumpled to a group of 3. I had gone much too hard.

I went to the back of our group of 3. The lead guy pedaled about 20 times and peeled off, the next guy even less. It was here I made a quick decision. It was my best strategic move of the race. I had a slight rest from drafting off the other two and as the peeled out it literally catapulted me ahead. I built on this momentum and powered into a full sprint. I probably had about 300 meters to get to the next pack. It was moving well, but with my speed and fresh legs I managed to hook on to the back of them. It was great. I managed to leave a line that was clearly disintegrating, to a newer, stronger one. Of course my arch nemesis, IOC was in this pack.

We sped along until we got to another steep downhill. I was in the back and as the others started zooming down I knew I couldn’t let them get to far ahead or I’d lose this pack. The Swiss national team jersey guy was in this group so I knew this was going to be a fast descent. It was crazy. My goal was to just to keep the last two guys in sight. I nearly wiped out on one hairpin. Going into it too fast, I started to skid. I let up off my brake to stop the skid, put it on again and skidded again. I let go, braked more smoothly and took the turn with more speed than I wanted veering wide, right onto the mid line of the road. A bit shaken I slowed down some.

At the bottom of the descent, to my horror, I discovered that I had been dropped. Both me and the second to the last guy had been caught too far behind and I watched as the pack sped away. The other rider who had been dropped mounted a furious sprint to get back into it. This led to my second best strategy of the day. I hitched onto his wheel and though it took me a good deal of energy to stay on it, the other rider was doing a lion’s share of the work. I let him sprint all out and he managed to close the gap, which meant so did I. I felt like I should have offered to share the road but he was so determined to get back in the pack that it didn’t matter that he was giving me a free ride.

We started up an uphill. It was here I asked another rider which course I was on and he told me the classic. Some part of me was relieved because I had been riding hard and it was nice knowing that 100 km had been cut off my day. As we headed up hill, my legs were feeling good. I and another rider, in a green team shirt with a frog on it, took the lead. He was too strong for me and dusted me to the top, I even lost sight of him. We passed several more riders as we ascended.

The pain of climbing.

The coolest thing about this bike race was that you get to through your water bottle on the side of the road, at the water area, and they hand you a new one. I had never experienced this before and it is awesome to jettison your bottle for a new one. At the top of this climb was the last water stop. Usually you have a choice between water or the freaking nastiest European sport drink. It is like puke and Gatorade mixed together. I had accidently gotten this at the first water stop so I was happy to get rid of that bottle. We are now in Italian Switzerland so I cried “wasser” and a girl handed me a bottle. Having just chugged my sports drink I wasn’t thirsty so I didn’t take a drink yet.

Another extremely steep and twisting road led down to Tiefencastle. On the way down IOC went zooming by me. The stage was set. At the bottom of the descent there was only about 10 km of climbing to the finish. It is all climbing though. I was feeling worked by this point but knew there was no point in saving my energy. I pedaled as hard as I could, passing so more riders. I took a drink of my water only to discover it was Coke. The super sugary carbonated water bevearge effectively sucked the remaining moisture from my mouth. As an added benefit it made my hand all sticky. At the 5km I caught up with IOC. How prophetic was it that I had essentially dueled with this guy the entire race. He was tired and living in Leysin where I finish all of my ride with a steep climb gave me an edge. For the last time I passed him and continued on up.

I saw a line of about 7 riders ahead of me. I decided I was going to catch them. Cranking hard uphill is a dangerous game. If you go too hard you can totally wipe yourself out. Redlining is what it’s called (or at least what I call it.) So you have to balance hard riding with some small recoveries. My legs were doing all right and I started reeling in the riders. At 2 km there were only two that I could realistically catch. One was green team shirt with a frog on it. I had a new duelist. He was looking over his shoulder every 50 meters at me and I knew he was worried. At 1 km I made the decision that it was time to stand and pedal hard the whole way. 300 meters from the finish I passed him and caught another rider. 100 meters from the finished I turned and found two riders closing in on me that I hadn’t even realized were there. I sprinted to the finish to stave them off and that was the race. I was 87 out of 350 overall and 40 out of 153 in my age group. My total time was 4 hours and 36 minutes.

My Diploma!

It was a good race and I really liked my strategy. I probably should have gone harder at the beginning and would have liked to do better in my ranking but I always feel that. I want to do more bike racing and it would be really cool to be part of a team. I have a few more events coming up, two triathlons, and two bike events (not really races but more fun events.) So there it is.

Epic Day #1 The Col du Sanetesch

As the summer continues on so did the adventures.  Ian and I had spent a few days in recovery from the riding in France and were primed for another big day.  Laura and Tyler had rolled back into town and also were both looking for some big miles and big hills.  I had just the ride for them.  The Col du Sanetsch is the last possible road that will allow you to connect from the Rhone valley back to the Gstaad (North of the Bernese Alps) until The Grimsel Pass nearly 70 km further.   The ride starts out pleasant enough.  The usual 16 km descent into Aigle is followed by 50 km of flat Rhone Valley riding.  The best part is that there is almost always a tail wind allowing you to pedal along at 35 km/hr pace with seemingly minimal effort.  It makes you feel like superman (or superwoman.) 

Tyler on the downhill from Leysin

So down the valley we sped.  Stopping for lunch and having just a great time.  In the town of Saxon we stopped at a Denner for a snack.  Ian and Tyler, both battling aches and injuries, wanted some Ibuprofen.  We couldn’t find any in the store but there was a pharmacy across the street.  Laura went over there to ask for some.  Her conversation started in French but soon switched to English.  She simply stated that she wanted some ibuprofen for a headache.  Upon hearing this the girl at the counter ran back to get her supervisor, who proceeded to interrogate Laura.  How did she know about this drug?  What was she going to do with it?  It was like she was trying to buy the ingredients for meth.  Flustered and confused Laura quickly left. 

Hairpin Turn

We rolled on to Sion the good times continuing.  The flat riding prompted many a manly displays of sprint challenges, where one of us would try and run away from the others by suddenly accelerating.  The others would give chase and then the game would as quickly end.  For Laura I am sure it was like hanging out with three rabid bull moose.  After a few exciting traffic circle mishaps in the heavily commercialized outskirts of Sion we left the flats and the fun and started up the hill climb.

Hill Climb

The two features of the Sanetsch Hill climb that make it particularly tough is that it is long (even by Swiss standards) and steep.  It is many little climbs stretched out into one massive 28 km stretch.  It starts off with a long winding ascent past the towns of Sensine and Saviase that over look Sion.  The traffic was light but noticeable.  At the 10 km mark the Route de Sanetsch begins.  It is a great cycling route since it is a dead end road, just leading to the top of the Col.  The only traffic is tourists and the few residents of the sparse valley, so it is occasional and light.

Tyler and Ian on the other side of a 0.8 km tunnel on the ride.

 

This was Tyler’s first time riding in Switzerland, but he showed remarkable strength in the mountains.  While most people’s first ride in the Alps ends with them past out on the road halfway up the climb, Tyler was going strong.  Of course I fancy myself a good climber and was determined not to let him out ride me.  Much like the valley sprinting below there would be some unseen signal and I would turn on the climbing jets.  Tyler would then ride with me and I could tell (or I just made it up) that the competition was on.  I remember in one stretch when I was really proud of myself because I thought that I had dusted him severely only to turn around and see him a few seconds behind me.  This game played out over the course of the climb probably a half dozen times.  In the end it is true I was probably the stronger climber, but given that I lived and trained in these mountains it would not have taken Tyler long to claim that title from me if he lived here too.

Tyler looking too happy for just having ridden 28 km uphill.

Ian had been traumatized by the climbing.  A very strong rider in the flats, low grade inclines, and an excellent sprinter, he had met his match in the mountains.  Being a large and strong rider is great until you start doing long climbs.  I am pretty sure that Ian spent a large amount of the 3 hour climb wishing for a quick and sudden death.   That being said he had acquitted himself well on a group ride a few days earlier with me, Steve, Mike, and Tom but those where on the shorter more manageable climbs of the Forclaz and Voettes, but a 5 km climb is very different from this long slog.  Long climbs are so mental.  You go from hope and confidence, to fatigue and pain, to dread and fear, finally ending up in complete misery the only solace is believing that the at next bend the end of the climb will appear, but sadly that never seems to happen.

The face says it all.

Laura would claim that it is crazy to ride with me.  I am the master at underestimating, case in point I thought that this climb was about 20 km it turned out to be 28.  Also I tend to quickly forget steepness and suffering.  None the less she continues to agree to riding with me making me wonder if she is really the crazy one.  Even though she complains, threatens and curses, she grinds her way up these monsters as apt as anyone else I ride with.   At one point we were riding together and she had just discovered that my 20 km was not true.  I think it was when 23km into the climb we passed a sign saying 6km to the top.  Laura likes to know how far she needs to go uses that goal to get her to the top.  Having her hopes dashed on nearly being finished by the sign was too much for her.  After a few furious “I hate you” I rode on ahead deciding it was probably better for someone else to keep her company.

Laura. Probably thinking about horrible things she wanted to do to me.

The top of the Col de Sanetsch is non descript.  The first time I did the ride I rode right past the summit.  It is a sign and a small three sided roofed structure.  At over 2200 meters it is freezing cold and I got there and stopped to wait for the others.  Quickly they arrived for a brief celebration / sigh of relief.  From there you ride down the other side of the col for 3 km round a lake to a small tourist area.  It is all downhill or slightly level.  I had taken off first but I soon spied Ian in back of me.  Back on the flats I knew that he was gunning for a stage victory in the last stretch.  I recklessly pedaled down the twisting road and did my best to pound on the flats.  Ian was gaining on me, but I was undaunted.  The last 500 meters are a super steep hill and upon reaching this I zipped up it as quick as I could.  Ian was no match and had to settle for second.

Laura on the steep finish.

Getting back down to the Gstaad valley is one of the most unique features of this ride.  On top of a hill there is a metal shack.  Inside this shack is the other end of a telecabine.  We stood awkwardly at the door.  A phone rang.  I answered in German, and a man told us to go in the lift was ready.  We put our bikes on hooks in the back of the lift and got in.  This lift is about the most outrageous one I have been on (and I live in Europe.)  It swoops down two huge drops where it looks like the lift wire is vertically below you.  Usually sitting in a lift is a mellow experience but this was more exciting than many amusement park rides.  The lift brings you to the tiny town of Gsteig.  When we exited the operator speaking German, French, and English simultaneously barked commands at us about where to put our bikes and ushered us to the cashier window.  There the same guy gave us our tickets.  I tried to just walk out the gate to get my bike after I had paid, but he freaked out and insisted that I walk around through the whole turnstile system, swiping my ticket to exit.  It was very bizarre and confusing but so is the land of the Swiss (see pharmacy incident a few paragraphs before.)

Our bikes suspended many hundreds of feet above the ground.

At Gsteig we found a small grocery store.  The col du Sanetsch ride is devoid of snack shops and stopping midway up the climb for a long restaurant meal is not a good option.  So we had pushed through our hunger to this point.  There, like a flash flood destroying a town, we descended into the store buying many francs worth of meat, cheese, bread, chips, chocolate, and fruits.  Lounging on the warm pavement outside of the shop we had a glorious picnic, gorging ourselves to regain the many calories lost on the climb.  Still to come though was the 6km climb up the Col du Pillion, a formidable climb in its own right.  Our tired legs slowly churned their way up to the top.  Then down again to Les Diableret and back to Sepey. 

The final climb to Leysin was all that remained.  It is such a challenge after every ride to have to finish with the Sepey - Leysin hill climb.  At 4 km long it amounts to a serious climb in nearly every cyclist book but for us it was the rite of passage that finished most rides we do.  Of course it is steep.  The only salvation is that in having done it so many times you can play the landmark game with yourself.  Ticking off each mini sections makes the whole seem more bearable.  At the top we arrived at the Lower Sporting section.  We missed the cog by about 2 minutes to use the village station to go back to the belle epoche.  This means another 3 km of steep climbing to home at the very top of the village of Leysin, but in the end it was a fitting finish to the day. 

Paul.  Hero or Villian?

Alpe d' Huez

Every serious cyclist dreams of riding the classic Tour de France stage that starts in Modane, France and proceeds to climb the Col de Telegraph, Col de Galibier, and finally finishes with a steep climb to the ski village of Alpe d' Huez.

This stage was made famoud by Lance Armstrong's famous stage victory.  He had feigned fatigue all day and given his main rival Jan Ullrich false confidence that he would beat Armstrong in this crucial stage.  But on arrival at the base of the Alpe d'Huez Armstrong sheds his ploy and savagely attacks, creating one of the most iconic moments in cycling history "the look."  As he charged up the mountain he turned to stare at Jan, his main rival, and then furiously accelerated forward.  He won the stage and then went on to claim his third Tour de France victory.



With such a rich history and living only a three and a half hour drive away I knew I had to do it.  So when fellow math teacher Tom Copeland told me he was meeting some friends to do the ride on 23 July and invited me along I took him up on the offer.  My buddy, Ian Nelson, was visiting and since he is an avid rider joined us on the adventure as well.  So the three of us with our three bikes stuffed ourselves in the Green Gremlin, my beloved automobile, and drove over to St. Michal's where the stage starts.

The Green Gremlin

We spent the night in a nice little hotel.  The bed squeaked horribly so we put the mattress on the floor.  As part of our stay at the hotel we went to its companion restaurant the San Marco.  We had a nice meal upon which Ian commented that the French had a leg up on the Swiss with food.  You learn quickly that Swiss cuisine is not that great, unless you like bread and cheese cooked 10 different ways. 

So we got up the next morning met up with three of Tom’s friends, Steve-O, Jamie, and Simon.  They were on their fourth and last day of tour stages.  They were looking worked over.  Jamie had hurt his knee and had to walk his bike 5 km the day before.  Simon was also fatigued and definitely was hurting.  I left the car at the hotel and we were off.

Leaving St. Michal

The first climb is up the Col de Telegraph.  It was pleasant enough.  14km long and never more than an 8% grade.  My goal for the day was to never get passed and beat the group up each climb.  Judging by Tom’s group losing to any of them wasn’t going to be an issue.  They were super tired and seemed more bent on surviving the day then riding hard.  Ian proved to be another matter.  He kept with me the entire time and I thought he might challenge me for the top. 

At the beginning I was riding slow and an old man (but very fit) blew by me.  So my first challenge was set.  After going easy I picked up the pace 5km from the top with the old man in sight.  I quickly dispatched him a km later.  Ian was riding well so I turned it up a bit and managed to gun it to the top ahead of him.  He was taking it easy knowing the long day ahead and went down without really a fight.

Col de Telegraph

After a short descent we started the long 20 km climb up the Galibier.  This proved to be one of the most amazing sections of riding that I have ever done.  It is basically a long ascent up a valley that then snakes up the side of a mountain and crosses the Col at over 2600 meters (or about 10000 feet.)  Stunning is the only way I could describe most of the landscape.  It was a treat to ride there.  This route may be the most popular bike route in the world.  There was literally hundreds of cyclist out riding that day.  It was so cool to see so many people out on bikes.  There was everything from super fit young monster biking, to older heavier weighted men and women out to test their mettle. 

Nelson and I at top.

Tom’s team had passed us while Ian and I enjoyed a tea on the top of the Telegraph.  We caught up with them 10km into the climb.  We all road together for a while.  I have really started to like group rides after years of being a more solo rider.  Even if it is a slower group it is nice to have people to share the experience with.    Towards the top though Ian and I cranked up the pace and left the group behind.  Ian was looking strong and at the 2km mark I attacked.  I was lucky because the 2km must have actually been the 1 km mark so while Ian was waiting to make his move the climb ended.  It was beautiful up top.  You could even see Mont Blanc in the distance. 

Brit group going up Galiblier

Since we weren’t too far ahead we waited for Tom and his crew.  They arrived about 20 minutes later.  Even though it was summer the top of the Col was absolutely freezing.  We put on our jackets and did the monster descent down.  I feel that I am pretty aggressive on the descents but coming off the Galibier was an experience.  Many hairpin turns on a one and a half lane bumpy road with death falls if you went off.  Combined with a cold that made my hands near numb and you had a pretty hairy descent.  I had my hands locked in a death grip on my brakes for nearly the entire time. 

Taking a break from the descent for a picture.

You go down about 10 km to another Col and the worst is over.  Then it continues downhill for about another 15 km with some flats and small hills.  There are a few freaky tunnels that you go through.  Nothing like racing through a tunnel and hardly being able to see from your sun adjusted eyes.  The road didn’t have too much traffic on it but there was enough that cars would zoom by your occasionally.  Unlike in the States the European driver’s are good about dealing with bikes and give you plenty of room as they pass.  Though there were a few instances of having a car pass shockingly close to you.

Day 2 picture

So after all of this we arrived at the base of the Alpe d’Huez.  The famous, legendary, climb of the Tour de France.  We all met up there and ate a bit.  Steve-O and Simon’s wives were there in cars and plans were made to meet up after the ride finished at the top.  So off we went.  Steve-O, Janie, Tom and Simon took off first while Ian and I were eating.  The Alpe d’Huez most famous feature is its 21 hairpin curves.  Each one has a sign with its number and the name of a winner of that stage.  The first turn #21 had the original 1952 winner (I forget who) and Lance Armstrong the 22^nd winner.

Ian climbing

It was warm at the start of the climb were it was the steepest.  I had not filled up my water bottle so I was battling dehydration.  The hairpins are both good and bad.  It is demoralizing to see that you are only at turn number 17, but it does break the climb up into sections.  Generally at each turn the climb eases a bit and it also allows for some rest.  I didn’t feel that I was moving very fast but just tried to keep a steady pace.  About half way up I caught up with Jamie.  I chatted for a few moments with him and then continued on my way.  Just a little later I caught up with Tom.  I rode next to him and asked him how he was doing.  He then replied with the quote of the trip, “It’s killing me.”  Is all that he said.  Figuring that was the end of the that conversation I continued on. 

Tom, not dead yet.

I always know when I am getting really thirsty because I always contemplate drinking from the streams that always run by these mountain roads.  Sure enough there was a small brook that cascaded down the road.  As my thirst grew I was ready to jump off the bike and start drinking right from the stream.  I fought the urge, praying that there would be a water source.  Miraculously there was.  As I entered the lower town of Huez, not to be confused with Alpe ‘d Huez, there was a bathroom and it had a sign that said “eau potable.”  I raced in filled up my water bottle, downed it in about 2 seconds, filled it up again, downed it nearly as fast, then had a third bottle.  I filled it one last time and off I went.

The Brit crew.

Right before I had stopped I had spied the red jersey of Simon.  I had lost a little time on him but he gave me a goal to reach.  The top of the climb was less steep but I was tired and there was a fierce headwind that seemed to as be blowing into me, no matter which way I rode.  A few times I tried to accelerate and push my pace, but the legs weren’t having it so I plodded along as best I could.  Right at the village I caught up with Simon.  He and I rode to the top were the finish is, an anticlimactic sign right before the ski lift parking lot.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was a curve number 0, so in fact there are 22 curves.  French math at its best. 

The top!

I reached the top and felt very relieved.  It had been a long day and I was ready to be off the bike.  Ian appeared quickly after I finished and then about 20 minutes later Tom made it.  He had survived and his dire prognostication had not become true.  We ate some biscuits and took some pictures and that was it.  Tom and the other Brits drove off to Grenoble.  Ian and I had booked a small hotel in Huez and stayed the night there.  We then biked back to the car in St. Michal going over the Col de Croix de Fer, another long hill climb.  It was a great two days and potentially the highlight trip of my summer.

The adventures continue.

My First Triathlon - Murten, Switzerland

I had had a succesful running season and I have always wanted to do a triathlon.  My friend Mike wanted to do one as well so he and I signed up for one at the beginning of the summer.  It was in Murten which is only about an hour and a half from Leysin.  Mike had to get a wet suit so ordered one from England, since it is so much cheaper.  Even though he got it sent express delivery it didn't show up in time so he couldn't race.  That left me alone, but luckily Steve decided he would come as a spectator. So the stage was set.  Here is the story.

The day started by me picking up an incredibly hung over Steve. He had partied with Sion and the Coops until 3am and was still half drunk. With the promise of McDonald’s he decided he would join as race photographer/manager/groupie. Of course he got Swissed. The first one in Villanueve didn’t open until 8 and then when we got off the highway in Fribourg there was another one but this didn’t open until 10. Not that it mattered, he was passed out in the seat and almost didn’t wake up upon arrival.

The beautiful Murten See.

We got there and it was a cool scene. Compared to most of the other athletes I was incredibly obese. I think this was a pretty big time race, because everyone looked super serious and you should have seen all the crazy bikes. The tri bikes look like alien bicycles because they are so weird. Also everyone had these bib belts that you clip your bib on. You attach it after the swim and bike with it behind you, then flip it to your front for the run. I was the only one who used safety pins to attach it to my shirt. I also was the only one who didn’t have a super cool tri bike, I took my old titanium bike.

It took a long time to figure out where to put everything. It is very gear intensive with the bike, all the swimming stuff (goggles, cap, wetsuit) and a pair of running shoes. I found my transition spot and left all of my gear there. I put on my wetsuit and splashed around a bit. I was really intimidated by the swim. It is one thing to do 1.5 km in the pool but standing on the beach looking at the buoy which seemed like forever away out in the lake made me really nervous. You start in the water in this little cove. The men (about 200) started first and then the woman (about 100) started 5 minutes after us.

Preparing for the swim.

So the gun went off and I started. The first 5 minutes I sorted of panicked. I was thinking what the hell am I doing swimming so far out from shore. But after a bit more I got comfortable and started cruising. Only freaking out once more when a piece of seaweed attacked my face. This was the third time I had swum in the last two years (the other 2 this last week in the Leysin pool) so the pack left without me. It was fine I was glad to be swimming alone. It is weird swimming in a group because I crashed into about 5 people at the start. Unfortunately my tranquility didn’t last that long, because the 100 woman caught up to me by the half way point, and I spent the next 10 minutes crashing into many of them.

Swimming in the open water was challenging because I could really see where I was going and it was hard to stay on course. Looking at my GPS I think I added about 2km since my path was so curvy. I thankfully finished the swimming leg and ran over to my bike. I was ahead of maybe 5 people, so not quite dead last as predicted. The swimming made me really dizzy from turning my head back and forth for 40 minutes so I first I had an epic battle with my wetsuit and then struggled getting my bike shoes. It took me 3 minutes but I managed to get changed and off I went.

Wetsuit battle, followed by the start to the bike.

The course was a 23km loop and it was in the Jura so it was rolling hills. I was so much more powerful on the hills that I was blowing by people on the ups. But those cursed tri bikes haul on the flats so half the people I would catch going up passed me later. I started feeling really strong though and pounded away and gained on a lot of people. I got lost once on the bike course missing a turn but managed to correct my mistake. The biking was so much fun and I loved it. I think people were shocked when I blew them away in my old school road bike with my safety pinned jersey as they pedaled their alien death bikes in their fancy one piece skin suits. I did my second lap and towards the end I was in a strange place where I was in front of all the riders I could catch and couldn’t see any more ahead. It was eerie being alone like that. I averaged 32km/hr on the bike.

On the bike.

Back at the transition it went much better. I put my bike on the rack and through off my cycling shoes and on went my running shoes and off I went. The run was a 5km loop that I had to do twice. One of the top woman was ahead of me on her second lap when I started. Just like the bike I felt pretty good and caught up with her (granted she still was 5km ahead of me) and then proceeded to reel in more racer. I managed to keep a 7 minute mile pace and felt good. Needless to say I got lost again, my brain is so fixed on moving that I missed a sign but realized when all the runners I were near had disappeared that I had gone a stray and corrected it. Of course I finished my race with my 100 m sprint and completed the course in 2 hours 52 minutes.

The running leg.

I was 55 out of 90 in my age group and 128 out of the 200 overall. Not a great result but I know I’ll get better. I didn’t really feel like I had pushed myself as hard as I could have and I have a lot to learn about how to do everything correctly. I then found Steve who was still incredibly hung over and we went to McDonald’s finally which made him feel a million times better. I really like the cross training aspect of the race and am excited for my next tri. I need to learn how to swim but overall it was a lot of fun. I am super psyched on the sport and plan to do my next one in RIchmond Virginia on 24 July.