Bikeforums.net is a forum about nothing but bikes. Our community can help you find information about hard-to-find and localized information like bicycle tours, specialties like where in your area to have your recumbent bike serviced, or what are the best bicycle tires and seats for the activities you use your bike for.Rick@OCRR
10-05-08, 03:47 PM
Last Sat. (Oct. 4th) was the Angeles Crest Century, presented by Planet Ultra. It was 100 miles (80 of which were timed), with 11,000 feet of climbing.
I wore a wool base layer and wool socks, plus jersey, shorts and knee warmers since I knew it would be colder at altitude. Overcast and not cold at the start in La Canada Flintridge, and the first 30 miles were a constant 5 and 6%, so an easy climb with the occasional descent.
Just before the 2nd checkpoint (mile 26), I got a flat due to a presta valve coming away from the tube-rubber, but fixed that, then almost blew it off the rim due to getting a bit of tube between the tire and the rim. That meant I climbed to the 3rd checkpoint, Jarvi Memorial Vista (mile 49.5, above 7,000 feet) with 70 lb., i.e. the most I could encourage from my mini-pump, but brought it up to 110 at the 3rd checkpoint (they had a floor pump!).
It had been getting colder all the way up the mountain (typical with a gain of altitude), plus we had light rain and fog (very dense at times) with the worse visibility; 2 - 3 feet, sometimes out to 5-6 feet. The two tunnels near the top were very scary, almost no light inside, difficult to see the curbs, and we had to go back through them on the descent.
Past the tunnels (on the way down now) the rain picked up dramatically, and the guy I was riding with at the time (looked 50+ to me) started talking about how it was good to have to overcome adversity, how it was good for the soul and helped define you as an individual. My thought was, "Yeah, okay, whatever works for you, buddy!"
At least as we descended it was fractionally warmer, down past Newcomb's Ranch (if you know Angeles Crest), raining even harder now, decending at about 30 - 35 mph. Finally a couple of good climbs to warm my body, then left turn at Red Box to climb Mt. Wilson ("End" of the ride, i.e. the clock stops at the summit of Mt. Wilson).
Met up with an old friend, Linda (caligurl on bikeforums.net), at the bottom of Wilson and we climbed together, talking a little, and fortunately the extended climb (felt like 6-8%) kept us somewhat warm. Once in the worst of the cloud visibility was really bad, and we had trouble seeing the rocks in the road (rain had washed a lot more down the mountain) in time. Thankfully very little motor traffic along here, though we could pick out the occasional bike rider descending Wilson as we climbed.
After a bit over an hour (from Red Box) we finally hit the summit, though the checkpoint workers had to yell at us ("Over here!") or we would have missed the checkpoint, the fog was that thick. Our times were recorded at the final checkpoint, and Linda's husband, Chris, was working that checkpoint, and (hopefully) gave her a ride back down in their warm and dry Prius.
I ate the (usual for Planet Ultra) Subway sandwich lunch, drank a warm (thankfully!) Pepsi, then headed back down the mountain. Still riding in thick fog, light but consistant rain, and getting colder by the mile. I saw lots of riders still heading up Wilson as I was coasting down. I tried to shout words of encouragement to each and every one, sounding amazingly sincere considering how miserable I was.
As bad as the descent off Wilson was, the journey from Red Box back the La Canada Flintridge was worse. I thought it would get warmer as I descended, but it didn't. As I descended I started to shiver, and when I shivered, the whole bike shivered, causing me to nail the brakes (which worked eventually), which slowed me down, which reduced the wind-chill and (maybe this was an illusion), the effort of hard braking seemed to warm me up.
Fortunately, there was a climb on the way back, for about a mile it seemed, and I loved every minute of it, standing up in way too high a gear, just to (hopefully!) generate all the warmth possible by over-working my body. After than climb I saw a sign, "9 miles to La Canada Flintridge" and thought "Looking on the bright side, it's all down-hill. On the other hand, it's raining, I'm very cold, the fog is so thick I can't see the rocks on the road until I'm almost on them . . . and there's traffic in both directions and almost no shoulder."
The motorists, to their credit, were very kind. They gave me lots of room, gentle honks to let me know they were there, and they came around me slowly. Of course, they couldn't see much in the fog either.
Well, except for one kid in a black Nissan Sentra, coming towards me, that over-drove a turn and slid half way into my lane. He was so close I could see the look on his face (yeah, terrified). So yes, that scared me. But he was the exception, kudos to all the other drivers.
This semed to last forever, with me having to slow way down whenever the shiver convulsions got out of control (chin/teeth shivers didn't count, that was almost constant). So, in a nutshell, I was scared, very tired, cold/wet and yet still (mostly) in control of the bike. I tried to think positive thoughts. And eventually I rode below the cloud/fog, and could see 40 or more feet ahead, and started to feel more (mentally) positive. I was going to make it off the mountain with my life!
Finally off the "2" and onto Foothill Blvd., I knew I had it made. Back at the car I turned the engine on so it could be warming up while I put the bike on the rack and changed into dry clothes. I hadn't thiought to bring a towl, so I guess they weren't totally dry by the time I got them on, but close enough. Then I just sat in the car with the heater on high for 15 min. (approx.) until my shivering convulsions finally stopped, and I felt I could drive home safely. Oh, . . . and I phoned my wife before I started the drive home.
So overall, not the century I thought it would be, and probably the most brutal century I've ridden. The 11,000 feet of climbing didn't bother me, the 100 miles weren't a problem, but the descent was difficult indeed!
Hope you all had a more pleasant Saturday! Oh yes, on Sunday I did a fixed gear recovery ride to Seal Beach and back (30 miles), and now I'm all good, so no worries!
Rick / OCRR
I wore a wool base layer and wool socks, plus jersey, shorts and knee warmers since I knew it would be colder at altitude. Overcast and not cold at the start in La Canada Flintridge, and the first 30 miles were a constant 5 and 6%, so an easy climb with the occasional descent.
Just before the 2nd checkpoint (mile 26), I got a flat due to a presta valve coming away from the tube-rubber, but fixed that, then almost blew it off the rim due to getting a bit of tube between the tire and the rim. That meant I climbed to the 3rd checkpoint, Jarvi Memorial Vista (mile 49.5, above 7,000 feet) with 70 lb., i.e. the most I could encourage from my mini-pump, but brought it up to 110 at the 3rd checkpoint (they had a floor pump!).
It had been getting colder all the way up the mountain (typical with a gain of altitude), plus we had light rain and fog (very dense at times) with the worse visibility; 2 - 3 feet, sometimes out to 5-6 feet. The two tunnels near the top were very scary, almost no light inside, difficult to see the curbs, and we had to go back through them on the descent.
Past the tunnels (on the way down now) the rain picked up dramatically, and the guy I was riding with at the time (looked 50+ to me) started talking about how it was good to have to overcome adversity, how it was good for the soul and helped define you as an individual. My thought was, "Yeah, okay, whatever works for you, buddy!"
At least as we descended it was fractionally warmer, down past Newcomb's Ranch (if you know Angeles Crest), raining even harder now, decending at about 30 - 35 mph. Finally a couple of good climbs to warm my body, then left turn at Red Box to climb Mt. Wilson ("End" of the ride, i.e. the clock stops at the summit of Mt. Wilson).
Met up with an old friend, Linda (caligurl on bikeforums.net), at the bottom of Wilson and we climbed together, talking a little, and fortunately the extended climb (felt like 6-8%) kept us somewhat warm. Once in the worst of the cloud visibility was really bad, and we had trouble seeing the rocks in the road (rain had washed a lot more down the mountain) in time. Thankfully very little motor traffic along here, though we could pick out the occasional bike rider descending Wilson as we climbed.
After a bit over an hour (from Red Box) we finally hit the summit, though the checkpoint workers had to yell at us ("Over here!") or we would have missed the checkpoint, the fog was that thick. Our times were recorded at the final checkpoint, and Linda's husband, Chris, was working that checkpoint, and (hopefully) gave her a ride back down in their warm and dry Prius.
I ate the (usual for Planet Ultra) Subway sandwich lunch, drank a warm (thankfully!) Pepsi, then headed back down the mountain. Still riding in thick fog, light but consistant rain, and getting colder by the mile. I saw lots of riders still heading up Wilson as I was coasting down. I tried to shout words of encouragement to each and every one, sounding amazingly sincere considering how miserable I was.
As bad as the descent off Wilson was, the journey from Red Box back the La Canada Flintridge was worse. I thought it would get warmer as I descended, but it didn't. As I descended I started to shiver, and when I shivered, the whole bike shivered, causing me to nail the brakes (which worked eventually), which slowed me down, which reduced the wind-chill and (maybe this was an illusion), the effort of hard braking seemed to warm me up.
Fortunately, there was a climb on the way back, for about a mile it seemed, and I loved every minute of it, standing up in way too high a gear, just to (hopefully!) generate all the warmth possible by over-working my body. After than climb I saw a sign, "9 miles to La Canada Flintridge" and thought "Looking on the bright side, it's all down-hill. On the other hand, it's raining, I'm very cold, the fog is so thick I can't see the rocks on the road until I'm almost on them . . . and there's traffic in both directions and almost no shoulder."
The motorists, to their credit, were very kind. They gave me lots of room, gentle honks to let me know they were there, and they came around me slowly. Of course, they couldn't see much in the fog either.
Well, except for one kid in a black Nissan Sentra, coming towards me, that over-drove a turn and slid half way into my lane. He was so close I could see the look on his face (yeah, terrified). So yes, that scared me. But he was the exception, kudos to all the other drivers.
This semed to last forever, with me having to slow way down whenever the shiver convulsions got out of control (chin/teeth shivers didn't count, that was almost constant). So, in a nutshell, I was scared, very tired, cold/wet and yet still (mostly) in control of the bike. I tried to think positive thoughts. And eventually I rode below the cloud/fog, and could see 40 or more feet ahead, and started to feel more (mentally) positive. I was going to make it off the mountain with my life!
Finally off the "2" and onto Foothill Blvd., I knew I had it made. Back at the car I turned the engine on so it could be warming up while I put the bike on the rack and changed into dry clothes. I hadn't thiought to bring a towl, so I guess they weren't totally dry by the time I got them on, but close enough. Then I just sat in the car with the heater on high for 15 min. (approx.) until my shivering convulsions finally stopped, and I felt I could drive home safely. Oh, . . . and I phoned my wife before I started the drive home.
So overall, not the century I thought it would be, and probably the most brutal century I've ridden. The 11,000 feet of climbing didn't bother me, the 100 miles weren't a problem, but the descent was difficult indeed!
Hope you all had a more pleasant Saturday! Oh yes, on Sunday I did a fixed gear recovery ride to Seal Beach and back (30 miles), and now I'm all good, so no worries!
Rick / OCRR