Howell Mountain should be called Howl Mountain. That is how I felt on it today after 2 sporty paced rides up to the Diablo Junction earlier this week. My legs wanted to howl.
I got inspired by hypoxia and lactic acid to tweak the famous poem "Howl" by Alan Ginsberg
I saw the best legs of my generation destroyed by madness, shaven, hysterical naked, dragging themselves up the narrow roads at dawn looking for a personal best fix, Helmet headed cyclists burning for the ancient heavenly connection
to the hilly dynamo on the machinery of bikes.
I woulda thought Veeder would be the toughest part of that ride, I did it for the first time yesterday and suffered worse than I ever have on Howell, albeit less than when I went over Cavedale on Thursday.
That older guy with the Cervelo jersey on a Willier sure wasn't "howling". He flew by us like we were, well...like we were standing still. Dude was moving for sure. Nice shady climb for the most part. The highlights for me were the zooming descents.
We've hit 69.5 mph coming down Oakville on our Tandem. Best on a single down it was 61.5. Howell isn't so bad by itself - but after Veeder it's no picnic. Awesome ride though - next time throw in Ink Grade and make it a full 100+ miler.