Cherohala 07-Part IV

After gobbling down several Advil for my back, I climbed back aboard the bike and pointed the front wheel upwards...next stop, 8 miles and 2500 vertical feet distant. For some reason, the first mile after this 4th feed area is always the toughest spot on this ride for me. I don't know exactly why this is, but I suspect that it has to do with putting enormous stress on my muscles, then stopping to let them cool again, then jumping right back into a 9% gradient with no warm-back-up. That's why this year I kept my stop as short as possible, just long enough to refill empty Heed, aquire said Advil, and shove a banana down my throat. It helped a little bit to ease the suffering, but it still hurt.

The real heartbreaker on this climb is that after all the climbing you've done so far, at mile 77 you begin descending. It's just 1/2 mile, but you lose a couple hundred feet of hard won elevation and you're forced to reclimb those meters of vertical. At mile 79 climb makes a sharp hairpin and begins climbing steeply for the last 3 miles of this section. From mile 77, the road after this hairpin is visible across the cove you are circling and it's so high above your current altitude that you can't help but despair knowing how steep the road has to be to reach that spot where it cuts through some rock and disappears. At this point I don't think I've ever wanted to climb off my bike and quit so badly. Even in 2005 when I had a seperated shoulder that prevented me from using the handlebars for any leverage, and I had to walk some of the steep parts, I didn't want to quit. 2007 took every bit of motivation I could muster to keep from stopping.

I made my way slowly up through the cut, where the road then shifts to the south side of this mountain range and began the final mile and a half of climbing that would leave me at the highest point of this ride, Santeetlah Gap at 5390 ft. I'll just mention here that the Cherohala Skyway is the road with the highest average elevation east of the Mississippi River.

I made it to the top, again refilled my water bottles, took a couple more Advil, and struck out for the finish, 30 miles and 4500 feet below me. But I was spent. My efforts in the first 40 miles had drained any reserve that I might have had and I could only descend at whatever speed gravity would allow. On the climbs sprinkled amongst this long descent, I had no choice but to use my bail-out gear and make it to the top as best I could. I simply had no legs left for climbing. I felt a little better though as I saw people climbing into the support vehicles at the foot of these short climbs. I've never seen people quitting on the descent of the Skyway before. That let me know that while I was suffering like I never had before, so was everyone else. Undoubtably the heat and humidity were playing a role in all of this.

At Indian Boundary Road, where the road flattens somewhat and becomes more rollers than anything else, I became like a horse who smells the barn and decided that I could take it easy and suffer, or I could suck it up and work hard and suffer. The latter would just last a shorter time, so I threw a couple of Endurolytes in my mouth and chewed them rather than swallowing, washing them down with a little Raspberry Hammer Gel, put my head down and started to suffer. The larger rollers that have always given me a little trouble in the past were barely noticeable and didn't really slow me down much. There is one particular little hill that marks the end of this section, a steep little roller that forces you to get out of the saddle and power climb it...but once past, you round a bend and descend down a steep little hill that begins following a little river the last 7 miles into Tellico Plains. When I see the river, I know that I've made it. The only thing remaining to conquer is the last 1/4 mile 10% climb back to the finish line at Tellico Plains High School. Crossing the finish line in 7:50:23, my day at the Cherohala Challenge was over.

For the first time in any time I've done this ride, I still had actively planned to skip it next year. Usually, even though I hurt, I am already making plans for how I'll improve the following year before I'm out of the showers at TPHS. This year though, until Wednesday I was planning to skip the 2008 edition. But as of today, if it doesn't conflict with a family reunion scheduled for next June, I'll be back again. Hopefully stronger and faster.

Did I mention The Beast got a new job selling EPO?

Cherohala 07 Pt. 3

Leaving the 2nd feed area, we began the final descent out of Deal's Gap (Tail of The Dragon) and were delighted to discover that the previously rough chip and seal pavement had been replaced with a nice smooth ribbon of brand new asphalt. This is a 12% grade which winds it's way down the mountain for 3 miles, so combine this with a new smooth road and you have a recipe for fun! We flew down the mountain, past the Tree of Shame, Crossroads of Time, and Cheoha Dam, arriving at Fugitive Bridge and started the 10 mile gentle climb through Tapoco Canyon up to the 3rd feed area at the entrance to Joyce Kilmer National Forest.

Last year I was on my own in this canyon and found the headwinds combined with the gradient to be a difficult test. The headwinds were there again this year, but I had a small group which allowed us to move considerably faster than I had on my own previously. Sharing the work, we arrived at the feed area, reloaded, relieved, and returned to the road.

Upon entering Joyce Kilmer National Forest, the road becomes rough. It's a chip and seal surface, with trees growing close to the road. The roots of these trees have grown under the road in spots, causing the pavement to heave. It's bumpy and rough ride that can easily sap more energy than you planned to expend if you're not careful. Fortunately, the rough road doesn't last but a couple of miles (and a few short climbs) before you pass Santeetlah Lake and return to the smooth pavement as you begin the two and a half mile climb up to the Cherohala Skyway.

It's not a steep climb, but it's not easy either, rising at a steady 6-7%. But it begins at mile 70, following the Tail of the Dragon and Tapoco Canyon, so you've already gone quite a distance, with considerable effort spent in climbing so far...and the tough climbing hasn't even started yet.

Halfway up the climb I again realized I was riding too hard trying to match The Beast, so I eased off and let him go. He gradually pulled away from me and eventually I could see him make the right hand turn onto the Skyway before disappearing for good. My back began to ache badly (I knew I should have been doing sit ups this year, I'm too old for this kind of riding without extra core fitness). As I made the turn onto the Skyway I realized that it was time for an Endurolyte capsule, but couldn't dig them out of my pocket, so I stopped to get one out and reorganize my pockets, tossing some empty Hammer Gel packets into a trash can at the overlook area where I was stopped.

With my load lightened somewhat (what do empty Hammer Gel packets weight? A half a gram each? Less?) I struck out for the next water and food stop, 3 miles of steep climbing in the distance. The sky was partly cloudy, and we were above the humid layer of air that had dogged us for the first 45 miles. When the sun was shining, it was hot. I mean HOT! But then a cloud would cover it and the temperature would seem to drop 20 degrees. I prayed for big clouds.

My pace on this part of the climb was slow...almost 2 mph slower than last year, and the last mile leading to the Feed area at Chute Cove (9%) was agony. I found Doug and The Beast there, nearly ready to leave, but more importantly, I found Advil for my aching back.

Tomorrow, (or the day after) Part 4

Cherohala 07- Pt. 2 - Blood on the Shores of Lake Chilhowee

Our group fell apart as several of the members swung through the first feed area (at mile 20) to gather food. I was, unexpectedly, the owner of an empty water bottle due to the early heat, and so I stopped to fill up as well, knowing that it would be 34 more miles with lots of climbing before I'd get the chance to fill again. Leaving in ones, twos, & threes, several riders eventually gelled into another group and within a few miles we were moving at a good clip along the foothills that lead to the flat flat flat section of US 129 that runs alongside Lake Chilhowee.

The Beast was up front putting the hurt on everybody with a pace that could only be intended to shell the weaker riders from the pack, but alongside the scenic lake, with a headwind blowing, everyone was willing to go cross-eyed to keep up. Seeing that the tough pace wasn't working, he slowed a bit and we settled in at 20 mph as we passed the boat ramps and fishing areas.

I was riding in the middle of the peleton, and we were cruising easily. No hard efforts being expended when 2 rows ahead of me, a rider suddenly swerved, clipping the front wheel of the rider behind him and knocking down that rider, who also took down several others with him. The rider to my right began to swerve into me to avoid the pileup, leaving the two of us as the likely next victims. Luckily the rider to my left had moved into the lane of oncoming traffic opening up a gap between him and the pile of twisted bikes and bodies for me to shoot through safely. The rider to my right didn't make it and became the next addition to the pile.

We all stopped and while we waited for our hearts to stop racing from the near miss, we tried to help sort out the pile, extracting bicycles and helping fallen riders to the side of the road. The motorcycle support that was following us was on the scene right away and helping as well. Despite a few bleeding elbows and knees, and a broken spoke or two, there was no serious injury and we were quickly on our way again.

I resolved that I was going to stay up front where this sort of thing doesn't happen and so I picked my way through and found Doug's wheel, with 5 miles left until the climbing began at Tabcat Creek, the entrance to the Tail Of The Dragon.

Now, I'm not the fastest climber in the world. When Cathy and I were first married, I weighed nothing and had a tremendous strength to weigh ratio and could fly up a hill. 19 years later, I'm considerably heavier and weaker, so when the road tilts up, my normal response is to let the group go on and set my own tempo, the result of which is that I watch as the group disappears up the hill ahead of me. This time however, I found that for the time being, I could match the pace set by Jeff and Doug. Noticing this, the Beast (Jeff) upped the ante and got a wheel length on me. He said to me, "thanks for leaving me in the parking lot, I won't forget it". I began to plead for mercy, but he was showing none and despite my best efforts, each time I matched his speed, he'd raise it again. About 2 1/2 miles into the first climb I finally lost sight of him for good as he rounded a corner.

The Tail Of The Dragon is my favorite part of this ride. As they proudly announce on their website, this portion of US 129 has 318 curves in 11 miles. A good video of a motorcycle riding this road is here:



Smooth roads and lots of curves keep the climbing portions interesting and make the downhill sections nothing short of thrilling. Think of rolling down a hill at 35 mph with consecutive 90s and 120s and you don't have to hit your brakes, just keep increasing the lean and you shoot right through.

Anyway, I rolled up to the 2nd feed station about 4 minutes behind The Beast, but 8 minutes slower than last year, and feeling pretty spent. I had serious doubts that I would continue the ride past the 3rd feed area. I had gone too deep, too often, too early to have much hope of finishing.

Tomorrow, What Joyce Kilmer didn't know about Trees.

Cherohala 07-Tellico Plains Pain

Saturday was the big event...well, maybe no big to any of you, but it's the one I plan for all year. I'd like to say that in addition to planning for it all year, I also prepare for it all year, but life gets in the way and somehow, the preparation is never quite what I hoped it would be. Throw in a few last minute changes to the routine and you are quickly stirring a recipe for disaster.

The first change was losing two weeks of training to a trip with the Boy Scouts to the Florida Keys. I wouldn't choose to not go again, but losing those miles can really hurt.

The second change is that I'm heavier than I was last year. For some reason the weight just has really been stubborn this season and I can't seem to make it go away.

Third, my 10 year old is playing baseball. I have surprised myself by getting caught up in his joy in discovering a sport to love and let many precious Saturdays (when I usually log an 80-100 mile ride) slip away whilst I sat in the bleachers watching him shut down batters foolish enough to hit one his way at 2nd base. Yeah, I could have been riding, but I wouldn't have enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed watching him.

Fourth change, and more immediate to the ride at hand was that my family ended up not joining me (my two older boys were planning to ride, but never got around to training adequately (my fault...baseball again)) and so I opted to stay in town for an All-Star game and then drive to Tellico Plains rather than drive up in the early afternoon and relax around town as I did before last years successful Challenge. Instead I arrived around 12:30, climbed into the bunk in the cabin my friends had secured and set my alarm for 5:30.

My goal this year, originally, had been to improve on last years time and set a new PR for the ride. This gradually became less of a goal and more of an "it would be nice, we'll see how it goes" as the Saturdays passed without me piling on miles. Nevertheless, this was on my mind Saturday morning as I finished suiting up and waited for The Beast and Doug to finish putting their gear together. We were laughing and giving The Beast a tough time because he'd forgotten his sweatband for his head which meant nobody would want to ride behind him and get "rained" on. The sweatband was important because, unlike last year's cool start, it was already about 80 degrees at 7:30 am. It was sometime into this Abbot and Costello act that I noticed that we were standing around by the car alone. Everyone was gone. The start line was clear and I could see bikes heading out over the hills northeast of the town.

For anyone not familiar with mass start events, let me explain something...it's always, ALWAYS!!, better to start near the front of the group and be riding with them when they leave, and not just because of the obvious reason that it's no fun to start out 5 minutes behind a pack and have to chase them for miles on end at the limit of your ability on the off-chance that you might catch a group to ride with. No, the best reason to be up front is that when "selection hill" comes along, as it always does on any group ride and the group is blown into smaller groups, you can easily choose a large enough group to make sure that you are delivered to the foot of the real climbing relatively fresh.

Now, on a ride with 450 other people, it's a given that if you're reasonably fit, you will catch some of them. The problem is that few of these stragglers will be working as a group, and if they could ride as fast as you are anyway, you wouldn't have caught them, would you? That's why they are "stragglers" and not riding in that pack that you're burning all your matches trying to catch somewhere up the road.

Thinking that The Beast and Doug were right on my wheel I took off and built up speed, settling into my drops and doing my best imitation of a time trial, watching my heart rate repeatedly go through 175 bpm as I did my best to find a group that would stick. I eventually caught up to a group after 15 miles of chasing that looked solidly large enough to stay together and not disintegrate on the rollers. Though they were moving a touch slower than I wanted to go, I decided to sit in and let my HR moderate some and try to recover. I looked around and saw the Beast and Doug catching onto the back of the group...I had left them solidly behind at the start, (Beast hadn't even put his shoes on yet...who knew?) and they had buried themselves to catch me. We all decided we could use a breather for a while and settled into this group of 20 or so (a small group yes, but large enough to get a little recovery time before the climbing started at mile 43).

to be continued...

coming tomorrow, Blood on the Shores of Lake Chilhowee, and why you shouldn't make the Beast angry by leaving him in parking lot.