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.