peaceonabike - A Cancer Survivor's Journey to Find Peace on a Bike

August 15, 2009August 3, 2021

Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb

Just standing on Mount Washington’s slopes in New Hampshire, which may be the toughest climb on earth, generates a sense of excitement and a bit of fear as you anticipate its difficulties. — The Complete Guide to Climbing (by bike), John Summerson

PINKHAM NOTCH, NEW HAMPSHIRE

This is a day that I thought would never come. Ever since I competed in Newton’s Revenge in 2008 I knew that I would be back. In fact, I planned to be back for Newton’s Revenge, the July race, in 2009.

But in May I broke my wrist in a crash and shortly thereafter got sick. I emailed Mary Power, the events director at the Mount Washington Auto Road to tell her I was still coming in July and she graciously offered a place in the August climb. I never envisioned that or I wouldn’t have contacted her. I wasn’t asking for a favor.

The illness continued and ultimately I was diagnosed with cancer. I pulled out of the August race but as the testing and diagnosis continued I made a deal with my doctor that I could ride no matter what. A few weeks would not make a difference in treatment. It would have to be delayed. And so the race was on.

It’s funny how cancer changes things. Last year my goals were simple:

Finish
Try not to be last
Don’t walk but that’s OK if I finish

But now I had performance numbers. So three months ago my goals were simple:

Beat last year’s time by 15-20 minutes

But then cancer came. And this year my goals were simple:

Finish
Try not to be last
Don’t walk but that’s OK if I finish

Actually, my new goal was even simpler:

Finish

Cancer will not win. I will.

What was to be a test to see if I could improve upon last year’s time simply became a new outlook on the race. I’m glad to be alive and glad to be here.

The view from 6 miles looking back at the starting line

“A few months ago, when I told a friend who once ran to the top of Mount Washington that I planned to enter the cycling race, he offered some advice. You will look for the top of the hill, he said. It is natural. It is human. But it will kill you. Don’t look up, he warned, because the top won’t come.” — Outside.online, Sept 2004

This was much different than my last two years. In 2007 (07/07/07) my daughter, Ashley, and I came to these mountains. We were grounded for two days due to severe weather at the summit and the race was canceled. But we had a great time here. Last year Ashley and her husband, Bryan, were waiting for me at the summit. That gave me special incentive to finish.

Bryan and Ashley at the Ellis River (2008)

This year I came to the mountain alone. There is peace here in the White Mountains. Ashley and I experienced it a couple of years ago just wading in the cold waters of the Ellis River. It was time I needed to get away from visiting doctors and spending hours online researching the best course of treatment for my cancer. I needed peace and I found it riding in the mountains and, yes, wading in the river again.

Barry wading in the Ellis River – with his bike

There aren’t many words harder to hear than “you’ve got cancer.” Your world just stops and one must find a way to get it going and back on track. I knew my fitness level couldn’t be where I wanted it to be. I actually had an e.Coli infection, possibly for months, leading up to the cancer diagnosis.

My time up the mountain no longer mattered. Just being here was a victory.

I came a few days early just to spend time in the mountains. On Wednesday I hoped to ride a 65-mile loop around the circumference of Mount Washington. Imagine that. Using the roads around Mount Washington, including some dirt roads, it still takes 65 miles to drive around its base. Instead, the weather prevented that and I rode Hurricane Mountain Road instead.

On Thursday I rode out to the Auto Road which was going to be part of my planned 65-mile ride. I met Mary Power and her new assistant, Kelly Evans. Kelly is from Beaver, Pa., near Pittsburgh, which is right across the river from where I went to high school.

Mary Power, Events Director at Mt. Washington Auto Road

It is not the longest climb, the steepest climb, nor the climb with the greatest elevation gain. It is simply the climb that is the steepest for the longest distance. Couple this with above timberline scenery that is unworldly and weather that is unpredictable and you begin to understand Mount Washington’s attraction to cyclist climbers. — New York Cycle Club, 2003

When I checked-in yesterday I met two young men from Seattle, Tommy Jerome and Ryan Burke. Tommy came to ride the mountain and Ryan came as his driver. As we talked over our pasta dinner in a tent, we decided to team up. Ryan would drive up the mountain as our driver and Tommy and I would be the cyclists which would get us up the mountain toll-free. Neither of them had been here before and appreciated any advice, even if it was wrong, that I could give them.

There was a race this day. The race announcer made it a point to let everyone know that there was an actual race up the mountain with race tactics. Phil Gaimon, Ned Overend, and Kevin Nicol battled all the way up the mountain before Phil pulled away to win by 16 seconds (54:37). It sounds like Phil pulled away by 50 yards around Mile 5 and Ned could never close it.

Phil finished second to Anthony Colby in the Newton’s Revenge race last summer but came back to win the August MWARBH. Phil rides for Jelly Belly Cycling. Ned is a former mountain bike world champion who at age 53 is, well, just 16 seconds behind one of the best climbers in the country.

For the rest of us, we were competing against the mountain or a personal best. Or in my case, just happy to be here.

With a staggered start time and being in the last group, I wondered how crowded the road might get with 500 riders ahead of me. Not at all since they were all faster. I did worry that I might come upon some slow riders going side to side on the road (paperboying) but never encountered any of that. Just once, in the first mile, did I feel stuck behind riders but simply announced I was coming between two riders. There was no other time that I felt anyone was in the way.

The biggest logistical problem of having 600 riders is parking at the top of the mountain. But there is an incentive to take fewer cars to the top. A car needed a ticket from a rider to gain entrance to the top on Saturday but if they had two tickets the toll was waived. At registration, they have an area set aside for drivers to offer rides down and for riders looking for a ride down. Or, as I did, you can just meet them at the pre-race pasta dinner.

I was worried about coming to the mountain without having a ride down. I shouldn’t have been. I actually connected via the forums with a couple other riders before registration but once I met Tommy and Ryan I decided to connect with them instead. But only after making sure I didn’t mess up the plans for my original group.

At Newton’s Revenge last year I casually milled around and watched each group go before ours then moved in line to the back of our group. At MWARBH we were positioned in our groups five minutes before the Top Notch riders took off. And since my group was 20 minutes behind them, I lost any benefit of a warm up by standing in line at the start line 25 minutes before our race began.

I was in the last group of the five groups to go and was pretty far back but not dead last. There is a dead flat section of 150 yards before the climb begins. We hit the hill and the climb began.

I do not remember the first two miles being so steep last year although last year I was out of the saddle (standing) within the first 1/2 mile or so. This year I was able to remain seated for the first two miles. I spent many hours on a trainer working on form to be able to do this.

More than once during those first two miles I thought of abandoning. Last year my back hurt and I assumed that climbing 12-15% grades out of the saddle hurt the back. But my back hurt even while seated. Tommy told me how much his back hurt on the ride. And how quickly he came out of the saddle.

In anticipation of the pain, I took a couple of Advil’s and also popped in some Tums (cramping). I didn’t have any problems with cramping and the back pain was minimal, at least compared to last year. Well, all pain was minimal compared to last year.

Because I started so far back I was passed by only a few, very few, but did pass many riders. Some of them were riding but many were walking. I tried not to look up the road because it is disheartening to see riders stopped or quitting.

But seeing riders pushing their bikes doesn’t have to be completely deflating. I started to make it a game. I no longer worried that the mountain was punishing and would soon punish me in the same manner. Instead, a walker became a target. Someone to pass. So I started to relish the sight of someone pushing their bike. It wasn’t easy catching a rider up the road but it was easy catching a walker.

Sometime after three miles the thought of abandoning or even walking left my mind. And my mind turned to finishing today and coming back next year.

The dirt section was scary. I tried to get through the entire section seated since I crashed last year when I stood. This year there was a very nasty crash ahead of me. A rider went down hard and was down right on the edge of a steep drop. I immediately called for “MEDIC!” behind me hoping the call would go back down the road to a radio communications operator who was sitting at the beginning of the section. Soon other riders picked up my call and I heard them relay the call for “MEDIC!” The call, which I had started, made it back down to the radioman. A medic soon came down from the summit on an ATV to assist. I never found out what happened to the man.

I was conflicted as to whether to stop or not. Getting restarted going uphill in this 12-16% dirt section was almost impossible. Plus I would have no clue on how to assist an injured rider, other than to keep him from rolling off the road to his death. But as I approached he was swearing at one rider who was trying to assist him so that made my decision easy. The thought of beating last year’s time never entered my mind.

Not far behind me was Aneeka Reed, a 16-year-old from Vermont. They teased the old group (45+) by putting juniors (under 20) with us. I think she started ahead of me and I passed her at some point. But at Mile 4 she came up in between another rider and me. I turned to her and asked, in a sarcastic tone, “What do you think this is, a race?”

She was holding her back. We talked briefly and over the next couple of miles, we were in contact and then not in contact. She would catch me on the lesser grades (12%) and I was more powerful on the steeper grades (16-18%). Her goal was to finish without stopping. I liked this kid.

I mentioned to her the dirt section which is when she told me she had never been on the road before. I was hoping she knew when it began. Heck, I was hoping she was going to tell me there was no dirt section that they finally paved it over.

Aneeka Reed with her parents. She finished without stopping and won the U20 Women’s Category

On the back of this year’s “I Biked Mt Washington” bumper sticker is some information including “35% hard pack dirt and 65% paved.” Well, it’s not 35% dirt – much less, but the 65% paved isn’t far from the truth. Imagine what a Mount Washington winter will do to asphalt. The road is generally in below average to poor shape with cracked and grooved pavement and some places where the asphalt has buckled.

We’re not crazy. The one person who is crazy was the unicyclist. I caught him in the first mile when we had to go over a buckled section in the road while ascending at 14% grade. My bike went over it fine but his single wheel didn’t. He crashed pretty hard. But much of the time I was riding on pavement I was looking for the best pavement which was hard to find at times.

Climbing around Mile 2 – Credit: Mary Power

Like many riders, I did not carry any bike tools, extra tubes, or a spare pump with me. Didn’t need the weight. Towards the end of the dirt section, I felt like I wasn’t going anywhere. Damn! A flat. I knew there wasn’t much I could do except to ride it out. So I decided to keep riding until I couldn’t go farther. And then I would run the rest of the way pushing the bike.

One big difference from last year is that I remember talking in the first mile and then just breathing heavily the rest of the way. I had no energy to talk. But this year I had more than enough energy to talk. I instructed a tandem to go “mark the 10-year-old” so he didn’t get away (he did), asked riders if they needed a cue sheet, told a guy who was in real difficulty to drop back to the team car and bring us drinks, asked rhetorically if the road averaged 12% grade why my GPS never went under 12.

That question got one tired rider to respond by steering off the roadway into the ditch. It’s hard to maintain focus when one is so tired and he was tired and I broke his focus. My bad. Thankfully, this was on the inside of the road so he dropped 12″ – 18″ inches into a ditch. Had it been on the outside of the road he would have dropped 50-100 feet. At least.

I wanted to stop and help him. But I couldn’t. This was on a 14% grade and getting restarted was nearly impossible. I saw one rider coming back towards us and thought he took his “paperboying” to an extreme. But then it dawned on me that he stopped and to get going he started down the hill to get clipped in and then turned around to start climbing.

At Milepost 6 a volunteer announced it was Mile 6. I asked her if that meant there were six miles to go. Then smiled. I obviously wasn’t pushing hard enough. But it didn’t matter. I was glad to be on the mountain and was enjoying myself.

The curve at Mile 6 is nasty. I didn’t remember how steep it was, I’m thinking 18%, but it presented no problem. The 22% climb to the finish was still steep but I never thought I might stop and fall over which I believed would happen last year.

I just had to concentrate on the road and appreciated all the people cheering. That’s pretty cool.

Well, maybe it was a little bit hard at the end but was in no danger of falling over or running the photographer over like I almost did last year.

Kelly Evans, Beaver, Pa., cheering me on at the finish line

In fact I was smiling at the finish line.

Last year I collapsed at the finish line. I said “never again!” I gave it everything I had. My legs were like Jello for the next couple of days. What I take out of this experience is how close I was to total exhaustion last year. I thought that every rider crossing the finish line was grabbed by four people but I think that was reserved for me for last year. I really gained an appreciation for how much effort I used last year.

I feel now that I could do the race again tomorrow. Clearly, even though I shaved five minutes off last year’s time, I didn’t give it my all. Oh well — I left myself room for improvement for next year.

In cyclists’ terms, I am not a climber. It’s power to weight ratio and I will never be in the top 10-20 or 30% of the elite racers. Maybe not even top 50%. But I like to climb. What an incredible feeling to reach the summit of the toughest hillclimb in the world.

My time over last year did improve by 5 minutes – to 1:46. Last year I was in the 82 percentile or better than 18% of the racers. This year I was at 68% – better than 32%or right at the edge of the two-thirds line. But still way below the line.

Still enough energy to life my bike. Barely.

My heart rate 158 avg/ 177 max was 2 beats faster this year than last year (156/175). And I didn’t worry about it. I never felt in distress. But I forgot to turn off my Garmin when I reached the finish line so it shows an extra two minutes. Oh well. There’s so much happening at the finish that it’s hard to remember everything. I bet if I had turned it off my heart rate would have been at least another beat higher.

Nothing grows up here. More than 100 days per year they experience hurricane-force winds. And they call it the Rockpile.

I had loaded the bike on the car then saw this finisher, D. P. Thomas, of Weatherford, Texas. I knew he wouldn’t make it. The mountain zaps your strength and you must have something left for the finish. Otherwise the legs can’t turn over the pedals and gravity forces you to the ground faster than one can unclip. And he wasn’t the only one.

A stranger helps D.J. with his bike and the rider behind decides to push his bike

After the race, we were one of the first cars to leave the summit. Probably 95% of the riders had finished but they do tell the few stragglers that they are going to open the road to traffic coming down the mountain.

On the descent I tried to encourage those still climbing by letting them know they weren’t far from the summit. One poor guy was “yo-yo-ing” so badly I stopped just so he could use the entire road to weave and cut the grade.

At our post-race turkey dinner, in the tent, I found Phil Gaimon and went to talk with him. In February, Mary knew that I was going to work the Tour of California and asked me to deliver a personal message to Phil to come back this year to the Hillclimb. And I did. I reminded him of that bitterly cold day in Santa Rosa and he remembered it well.

I told Phil I wanted a picture of us to put on my CaringBridge site. I explained that I had cancer and then we talked about cancer. He told me he was interested in my site and that his dad would be too as his dad was battling for his life.

I left with Phil’s last words to me. He told me he wanted to see me again at next year’s Amgen Tour of California and wanted to see me again next year racing up Mount Washington.

Cancer-free.

I plan to.

Now I must get ready for 100 miles on Sunday in Philadelphia with the Livestrong Challenge.

NOTES:

My Strava time was 1:44:37. This would be a point-to-point measure and not race time which is taken from time of starting gun to crossing the finish line. Because I was in a group, a deep group, and was not at the front, there was more than a one minute delay rolling out after the gun sounded.

There is a steep rise — about 18% — at the end of the dirt section and a spectator was at the transition screaming encouragement — “Hard top, hard top, hard top!!! — C’mon — you can do it. Hard top!” That was pretty funny actually.

I got to the hard top and never thought about the flat tire again. Mainly because it wasn’t flat. Never was. It was just riding up that 16-18% section in the dirt made the bike handle as though I had a flat tire. I didn’t.

Phil Gaimon said, “There are two possibilities in a race – you win or you set a PR, but when I’m getting faster, why would I quit doing this?”

August 14, 2009August 12, 2021

A Little Bit Nervous

PORTLAND, MAINE

This morning I was in Portland, Maine. It was a beautiful day for a ride and I rode out to the Portland Headlight.

On the way, I passed a statue of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, author of “Paul Revere’s Ride.” Longfellow was born in Portland.

This is my last day on the flats before tomorrow’s cruel ride. It was a 20-mile ride just to keep the legs loose. And heck, enjoy the beautiful weather and views.

Looking out to the Atlantic Ocean. The Portland Headlight is just to the left of this frame.

I went out through downtown Portland and crossed this bridge but came back via Broadway and a bike/rail trail where I snapped this photo.

Tomorrow’s ride: To say that’s I’m nervous would be, well, correct. It’s such a brutal climb.

August 13, 2009September 13, 2020

The Time is Close

PORTLAND, MAINE

I really wanted to ride this 65-mile loop around the base of Mount Washington but also knew that if I rode it there was a chance that my legs would be too sore going into Saturday. I reluctantly decided the prudent thing to do was to find another ride.

I drove to the beautiful village of Jackson, New Hampshire. Not finding a great place to park, I went into the post office, identified myself as a headquarters employee of U.S.P.S. and ~~threatened to close their office~~ asked if I could park in their employee lot — which basically meant the postmaster’s space. I could.

I got on Highway 16 and headed out through the White Mountains National Forest to the Mount Washington Auto Road. From the base I could see the summit of Mount Washington. Damn, it looks so far away. And high too. What was I thinking?

Mary Power, the events director at the MWAR greeted me. She asked about Ashley — still thinks she’s sweet.

Mary has been absolutely wonderful. I initially intended to ride Newton’s Revenge in July. But when I broke my wrist in May I contacted her to tell her I was still coming even though my cast would be off but a few days. She asked if I could come to the MWARBH instead. So I signed up for this race and then got sick. It looked like I would not ride at all this year and Mary graciously was supposed to roll my registration over to next year.

Except she forgot. And it all worked out because here I am.

I met Mary’s new assistant, Kelly, who comes from Beaver, Pennsylvania so we had a nice time talking. I graduated from New Brighton which is one town over in Beaver Co. We also talked about Hurricane Mountain Road. Both ladies said they hated to even drive that road. It is a nasty little road.

Today’s ride was a 28-mile ride out and back. Most of the ride out was climbing which made for a fun descent on the ride back.

We did talk about the race. I am excited because Phil Gaimon (Jelly Belly) will be here as well as Ned Overend. Ned, 53, is a legend. Maybe some day Phil will be a legend. I wish I could watch those two battle it out up the mountain. Phil’s young legs should win out but with Ned, you never know. Of course, a mechanical will end the race for either racer.

At the end of the ride I drove 60 miles to Portland, Maine. I am playing hotel roulette — I get credit for three stays instead of one — and get to see the coast too.

Garmin Stats for the Day

Weirdness of the Day

I had a couple of day’s worth of clothes to wash and found the laundry at the Hilton Garden Inn – Airport, in Portland. I figured being an airport hotel, it truly is, that everyone here was staying for one night and no one would have any laundry.

They had one washer and one dryer. They were empty. I put in my clothes and went for a 20-minute ride. The cycle was 30 minutes and I figured I would return and put my clothes in the dryer.

I returned with about five minutes remaining in the cycle and the dryer was in use. Who would be drying clothes without washing them? It certainly messed up my timing.

I returned to my room to grab my laptop to take with me to the laundry room. When I returned I found my wash tossed on top of the dryer and someone else’s clothes in the washer.

The culprit soon came back in. He was looking for soap. Rather than purchase some soap he took out a pocket knife and sliced off some slivers then added some shampoo. True.

Then a family came in to check on their clothes in the dryer. Bathing suits. I guess they just wanted hot suits.

I dried my clothes and then folded them. I was missing one arm warmer, one glove, and two socks. I had one cycling sock and one normal sock in the wash and knew I had a pair.

I opened the washer and saw my missing glove in the shampoo mix. I took it out.

Later I went back to the laundry room and saw my missing cycling sock was on the dryer.

After running an errand I returned and ran into the shampoo guy. He apologized for taking my clothes. He said he thought he had removed everything from the washer. I should have challenged him for removing them in the first place but I didn’t. It’s not like he has been waiting an hour while the clothes were in there.

I told him I was still missing an arm warmer and another sock. He said he didn’t have them but later I returned to the laundry room and there they were, folded. And smelling like shampoo.

Weird.

August 13, 2009August 25, 2023

Stop and Smell the Roses

NORTH CONWAY, NEW HAMPSHIRE

We are usually in a hurry wherever we are. One nice thing about this trip is that I can take my time. No clocks although my body clock still awakens me each morning at 5:30 a.m.

I miss Ashley. My daughter has traveled with me twice on this trip to be my driver; the person who drives to the top of the mountain and waits for the fools on bikes. In 2007 when the race was canceled, twice, and a number of people were hammering the decision not to let us ride in zero visibility, 70 mph winds and 34℉ weather, I wrote to Mary Power and told her what a great time I had with my daughter. This was a special time for father and daughter and I miss her not being with me this year.

Our trip in 2007 was special and I had no expectations that we would ever travel together again. But last year Ashley and her husband, Bryan, joined me and were my inspiration knowing that they were waiting at the top of the mountain for me. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting…

Ashley was ready to go with me in July for Newton’s Revenge but I wasn’t. This week she started orientation for a new teaching job in Shepherdstown, West Virginia, and is in daily rehearsal for Sweet Charity.

I arranged with a friend, Dave, to go with me but he had a last-minute family visit that derailed those plans. So I departed yesterday by myself.

My plan was on Wednesday to arrive at the Mount Washington Valley early and ride the 65-mile circumference of Mount Washington as suggested in the March 2007 edition of Bicycling. But gray skies and awful planning derailed those plans. Who knew I left myself 4 1/2 hours short of my destination Tuesday night?

There were rain clouds in Connecticut and there was rain in the Mount Washington Valley. I decided to take a relaxing route to the valley. The quickest way was up the coast outside of Boston, but I went up I-87 into Vermont. The Welcome Center/Rest Area is unique. It is a new barn made to look like an old barn.

I spent more than 30 minutes walking around and even found a connection to WiFi. Just the fact that one is on the Interstate and not on country roads probably means we’re in a hurry but this was a day to relax and smell, or at least, photograph, the flowers.

I traveled the two-lane roads across New Hampshire. At one point, just outside of Keene, NH, I entered “Dick’s Sporting Goods” into my GPS and was surprised there was one only six miles ahead. I stopped and shopped. I bought three Livestrong shirts which were no longer on the Livestrong website.

I stopped in Meredith, NH, to admire beautiful Lake Winnipesaukee. Apparently, it even doubles as an airport.

I arrived in North Conway two hours later than the Garmin-predicted 4.5 hours. I unpacked and waited until the rains passed thru.

The 65-mile ride was out but I wanted to try my hand at Hurricane Mountain Road. HMR is a nasty two-mile climb which the sign warns of a 15% grade. That’s the highest percent grade I have ever seen on a road sign.

Summit plateau of Hurrican Mountain Road looking west toward Intervale

I have some history with Hurricane Mountain Road. Disappointed in 2007 when Newton’s Revenge was canceled, Ashley and I went to the Weather Discovery Center in North Conway. We met a wonderful older woman who asked me if I had climbed Hurricane Mountain Road. Professing my ignorance, she told me of this ride all the locals do. She said if I can get over that I can get up Mount Washington.

I jumped on the bike and went out to Hurricane Mountain Road. At the bottom, I saw the signs warning of the steep road ahead. No RVs or large trucks allowed. One hundred feet later is an entrance gate closed in the winter.

Base of the climb on Hurricane Mountain Road

The road starts steep and gets steeper. Two years ago I got about two-thirds of the way up and had to pull over to catch my breath. After a couple of minutes, I was able to get back on the bike and finish the ride to the top. Only then did I realize I had a 25-tooth rear gear and not a 27.

Having made the change to the 27 last year, I excitedly went on Thursday to Hurricane Mountain Road to test myself with the new “easier” setup. And I made it to exactly the same place before I had to bail out. This was not good. Friday morning I went back and rode as slow as I could in the easiest gear. This time I made it up.

And so in 2009, I have a new gear setup. Unable to put in a long ride I went for Hurricane Mountain Road one more time. It was hard. But I never thought about stopping along the way. I did think about how my back hurt. Standing “out of the saddle” on a 6% grade is sort of cool. Standing on a 15% grade hurts the lower back. Now it’s coming back to me.

Summit plateau of Hurricane Mountain Road looking east toward Maine

Normally my reward for reaching the top is descending. There is a plateau of no more than 100 yards. My choice was to return down the 15% two-mile grade with switchbacks or the less technical but even steeper 17% descent on the other side. I guess, that is the steepest grade I have seen on a sign.

These are not roads where you earn a “whew-hoo!” as your descent. This descent is one that without brakes you go from 0-60 in 5 seconds. All your weight is forward and using the back brake on wet roads means sliding out. Both hands were cramping from riding the brakes. It was not a fun descent.

But I made it down safely and rode to Fryburg, Maine before returning to New Hampshire. The legs barely were sore but I’m not sure about an 8-mile climb on Saturday.

August 11, 2009September 1, 2020

Time to Hit the Road

WINDSOR, CONNECTICUT

The preparations are complete. Miles of riding through the winter are but a memory. Although not nearly as steep as Mount Washington, I rode the Blue Ridger three times this year with the Potomac Pedalers Cycling Club. I rode The Hills of Ellicott City. And a ride called Happy Happy Pain Pain. Using the same naming convention, the ascent up Mount Washington would simply be called Pain Pain Pain Pain. And Pain.

Happiness comes when you cross the finish line. And about five minutes after you cross and you finally get some of the mile high+ air back into your lungs.

In April I rode up and over Blue Knob Ski Resort near Altoona, Pa. And the past two weekends I rode “The Wall” which is a half-mile portion of 17-19% grade as part of a nine-mile climb out of Altoona past (under really since there is a 200-foot tunnel) Horseshoe Curve. While in Altoona, I met some nice riders from Spokes and Skis. Two weeks ago I met “Joel” and last week I met “Richard and Stacey.” I hope I spelled her name right.

Unlike last year, I went ahead and had some gear changes made to my bike. Two years ago I was set to go up with a 30 tooth front sprocket and a 25 tooth rear. I wouldn’t have made it. I thought I had a 27 tooth rear gear until I counted and discovered it was 25. I immediately replaced it with a 27.

Last year I went with 30:27 and suffered all the way up but I made it. I did a lot of soul searching as to whether I needed to change but in the end am glad to say that, at least once, I rode the mountain without making changes to the bike.

But this year I went with the best option I could find without making significant changes. We went with a 24 tooth on the front, shortened the chain, removed the big ring, and put a 28 tooth gear on the rear. Both the 24 and 28 tooth gears are the most extreme that I could find without changing the derailleur.

The real challenge of this day was to remember how to reassemble the Yakima bike rack. No problem at all. However, when I arrived in Windsor the key on my key ring didn’t unlock the bike. Thoughts and me driving to New Hampshire with a bike stuck on the roof of the car ran through my head. But I brought an extra key in the coin/ashtray and it worked. Crisis averted.

Otherwise, the trip was uneventful. I left home at 9:30 a.m., made a couple stops before I hit the road, and got to the George Washington Bridge in New York City just before 3:00 p.m. which is just ahead of rush hour. I guess I could have driven the entire route but by 6:00 p.m. I had gone far enough for the day.

August 9, 2009December 27, 2023

Horseshoe Curve Double

ALTOONA, PENNSYLVANIA

The weight of having prostate cancer was weighing heavy on my mind. But I have one escape plan. This.

Yesterday we had a family reunion near Punxsutawney, Pa. Beforehand I went to breakfast with a cousin at Eat-n-Park in Indiana and everything went sideways. Actually, everything went wrong. Very wrong. I needed a break.

This morning I left my parent’s place in Friedens, Pa., and drove to the Edison Elementary School in Altoona looking for a park or for parking. At 11:18 a.m. I rolled down the street and turned up 58th Street towards Veterans Memorial Highway that goes to the Curve.

It was a beautiful day as I passed three lakes (reservoirs) and came to the famous Horseshoe Curve. After one passes the Curve there is a 200′ tunnel and there the climb begins in earnest. When one leave Altoona the road is going up to the Curve but mostly at a 1-2% grade. After the tunnel it begins a 4-5% and keeps increasing.

Visitor Center at Horseshoe Curve
My photo. My bike. Undated.

Near the top of Glenwhite Road is the infamous “Wall.” It is a quarter-mile very steep climb that hits 18-20% grades. After the Wall there is still some climbing, followed by a slight brief descent and then a final climb to Coupon Gallitzin Road.

The Coupon Gallitzin road follows the ridge of the Allegheny Mountain to Tunnel Hill, a small town in Cambria County on top of the mountain. Here I turned on Sugar Run Road for a screaming descent back down to Altoona.

When I reached Altoona I passed the school and continued for a second trip up the mountain. I was here escaping cancer and dealing with what life brings me. As I approached the Curve I was caught by a couple riding up the mountain. I can’t say if they were going fast (probably not) or if I was going slow (defintely so). I was lost in thought. Thought of cancer. Thought of how yesterday’s breakfast could go so wrong.

Richard and Staci passed me and we echanged greetings. And just like that I was riding with them. Any thoughts I had of turning around at the Curve dissapaited as I rode with them. I learned that Richard was a veteran of this climb many times while Staci had never made it up without stopping.

The conversation turned to why this Virginian was in Altoona climbing up Horseshoe Curve. I explained I was on a cancer journey. And this was my break from thinking about it, except, of course, when I was telling people about it.

Richard rode away from Staci and while I could follow him, I stayed with Staci encouraging her. Sometimes that was in the form of talking about anything, anything other than The Wall which was just ahead. Staci and I rode up and she made it. And I was part of her journey.

When we got to Coupon Gallitzin Road I decided I would turn around and go back down to the car. It was the short way. It was the fast way. Although it probably would have only added about four miles to my ride.

For one day, Horseshoe Curve came through again. I forgot about all my problems and just concentrated on the climb and the amazing beauty of the area.

EPILOGUE – While this ride predated my use of Strava, I late went back and created a segment on Strava – Twice up the Climb and once down Sugar Run. To my complete amazement, there is only one Strava in the history of the app who has ever climbed this mountain twice on one ride. Yes, me.

July 12, 2009July 28, 2021

The Hills of Ellicott City

ELLICOTT CITY, MD

Advertised as “I hate hills!” on the Potomac Pedalers’ website, this ride was to be from Savage or Jessup, Maryland (I couldn’t tell which) to Ellicott City. Ellicott City is a quaint historical railroad town set down in a forested river valley not far from Baltimore.

But it was more than just a routine group ride. My third cousin, Susan Richards, whom I had never met before, was also on the ride. Her schedule would not permit her to ride the entire route but she rode the first 13 miles.

We left the starting parking lot and had an enjoyable 10 miles which took us on a two-mile descent down a wooded country road right into Ellicott City. Here we lost contact with the group briefly but I did have a cue sheet if I wanted to follow along. We briefly made contact with them in Ellicott City and rode together on River Road before Susan said goodbye and turned around.

Ellicott City (Source: http://www.city-data.com/picfilesc/picc47091.php)

I was about a half-mile behind and had to catch the group. I did on the first big climb of the day. This was on Ilchester road which was a two-mile climb with grades of 15-18%. Sweet!

I caught and passed three riders on the climb which certainly made me feel good. The rest of the day featured descending back to Ellicott City then climbing another route out of the valley. Repeat.

We had a group of five stop at a bakery where the other four sat down for a much-longer-than-I-would-want sit down break. I enjoyed riding with them and loved the route but excused myself to take off and finish on my own.

Note: The above photograph is used without permission and may be subject to copyright infringement. I may go to jail. Source: www.city-data.com/picfilesc/picc47091.php

July 5, 2009August 1, 2021

The BlueRidger Proper

MARSHALL, VIRGINIA

Subtitle: — A Group of One. Again.

When I rode the BlueRidger in April it was 95°. Today it was in the high 60s. Global warming indeed. The only difference was the direction. In April we rode in a clockwise direction, riding up Naked Mountain and then Mount Weather before descending to Bluemont and our planned rest stop.

Today it was counterclockwise. This is the BlueRidger Proper. The difference in the two routes is less the climbing but more the safety factor. If we ride in clockwise we have the harder way up Naked Mountain but the easier climb up Mount Weather. But it’s not just a matter of pick your poison because counter-clockwise is harder up Mount Weather but easier up Naked Mountain.

At Paris, Virginia, there is a half-mile stretch on U.S. 50 which can be heavily traveled. There are no shoulders here. If we do the clockwise direction, we are on the road climbing at 10 mph or so. If we do the “proper,” then we come off Mount Weather at Ashby’s Gap and have a one-half mile downhill in which one can easily maintain 40 mph on a road signed at 45 mph. IMHO, it is much safer to ride the proper direction just for this section.

Today’s ride was advertised as a B ride and was the best ride on the list that I could find. I counted 28 riders at the start and I started in the first third. Within the first five miles there were just five of us at the front setting a pretty good pace. “A” riders I figured. Probably the best ride they could find too.

I took my turns at the front and had the misfortune of doing a “pull” on an incline. When I dropped off I could not match the pace of the group and I was toast. I rode solo but not for long. I was caught by two other riders and the three of us stayed together for a while until we came to another long incline.

Didn’t anyone know it was my birthday and they were supposed to be nice to me? I wanted to do a birthday ride of at least one mile per year and this one worked. After 3-4 miles I got dropped again and thought I’m OK watching them 100 yards up the road. After a mile or two of this nonsense, I was surprised by a group of six riders passing me.

Funny, riding solo I didn’t think I could ride any faster but it was easy latching on to the rear of their group and riding faster. Some of it is physics — it is easier to draft behind other riders but some of it’s just mental too — having a pacer in front. Our group caught my other two up front and we rode together to Bluemont to our rest stop.

Without measuring it I would have told you that we were pulling a 1% grade the entire way but the stats say otherwise. For the 23.5 miles to the General Store, it is rolling but there is no real elevation gain or loss. We averaged 18.2 mph, That’s the advantage of staying in a group.

After a 15-20 minute rest, while other riders straggled in, a group of 14-15 of us all departed for the climb out of Bluemont up to Mount Weather. I passed those who I was going to pass on the climb out of Bluemont, which was maybe half the group. Then I settled into my own pace. I hate that. My own pace had me between groups of riders. I couldn’t catch the riders upfront and I was too stubborn to allow myself to be caught by those behind me. Mostly it’s the fear of being caught and then not being able to stay with the new group.

The summit of Mount Weather is rolling with some additional climbs and some descents before reaching the two-mile descent to Ashby’s Gap and U.S. Rte 50. I could see the riders behind me about 300-400 meters but I was staying out in front. And I did. By the time I got to Naked Mountain I saw but one rider behind me. And I wasn’t going to let him catch me.

After I came off the mountain I did sit up and wait for him. Part of it was being nice but part of it was I was first to a stop sign and there was traffic on the road. I had to wait for him. It was raining and we were soaked. We stayed together for all but the final two miles. I have to rethink drafting in the rain. All it did was get me a face full of water when I sat behind his wheel.

At times I thought he should go on without me as I was sure he was stronger after 50 miles in the saddle. But when we turned back on Rte 55 with four miles to go I set a pace that dropped him. Oops. My bad. But I had to. I could see about 100 yards behind him was a group coming on and I didn’t want to get caught by them.

So I opened a gap that kept growing. But the chasers were organized and overtook my friend and eventually overtook me too. Had they caught me on a flat I could have integrated with them but they were flying up a grade when they passed. I had nothing left to join them.

I was 20 seconds behind them to the lot and appeared to be the seventh rider returning. It is not a race but when you do well you pretend that it is. It was a pretty good finish.

On the day I averaged two mph faster than in April. I can think of three reasons none of which I will claim that I am in better shape. I’m not. (1) It was 95° in April. (2) For the first part of the ride today I was in with a group that ramped up the speed whereas in April I basically was a group of one. (3) In April I dropped back and rode the final 23 miles with another rider who was struggling due to the heat.

A final note: According to the ride table the “A” rides are 16-18 mph on Hilly Terrain. My final average was 15.9 — 0.1 away from an A pace. I can dream. Happy Birthday to Me!

June 27, 2009February 22, 2021

Thunder in the Valley

LIGONIER, PENNSYLVANIA

A beautiful day with temperatures in the 80s brought out thousands of bikers, as in motorcyclists, to the annual Thunder in the Valley event in Johnstown and the surrounding mountain communities including Somerset and Ligonier. I don’t ride a single kilometer without a helmet and my lasting impression of these bikers will be of the hundreds I saw riding care-free without their helmets. That’s not for me.

I started in the village of Waterford and took Nature Run Road to Laughlingtown. One mile on U.S. Rte 30 and three miles on Pa. Rte 381 was the only flat riding of the day. The three miles from Rte 30 to Rector hasn’t changed much in the 42 years since we first drove it when we moved from Ohio to Rector. It is lined alternatively by a canopy of trees and post and rail fence or borders the Loyalhanna Creek. This is “Mellon Country” having been the home of financier Richard King Mellon and the Rolling Rock Farms. There has been one improvement — the road surface is in excellent condition making this a wonderful ride on a bike.

When we were kids each spring we helped dam up a portion of Linn Run, a very cold mountain stream, so we could swim in Devil’s Hole. A natural pool was 3′ deep and we could get the water level up from half-way to 2/3 of the way on the large rock pictured above. Yes, the cold water was over our heads. Sadly, it is now marked No Trespassing.

Coming out of Rector I climbed the one-mile Darlington Road hill up to Rte 711. In the lower sections it has 15% grade and by the top has leveled off to 11-12%. My route took me on Darlington Road where perhaps I could have hit 50 mph on a descent except I didn’t trust the road surface at this point. It was rough with some loose gravel.

I went behind Idlewild Park and found myself on another great road headed to Bolivar. All roads were climbing or descending. When I reached the end of my loop I decided I would continue on Rte 271 towards Johnstown. Well, not all the way to Johnstown although that would have been a fun destination. But to the top of Laurel Hill Summit.

When I drove the climb it seemed to be a 5-6 mile climb and I wanted to see how my legs would respond on a long climb with a fairly steep grade – consistently 8% but at times 10%. I went three miles and emptied my second water bottle of two. I decided not to continue without water. It was a daunting climb and I have been battling but getting over a three-week illness. Unless… …Unless I saw a woman sitting on a porch. Which I did.

This is a climb on a mountain road. There are very few houses on this road. To find a house and had a woman on the porch was close to a small miracle.

I pulled over and pulled out an empty water bottle and pointed to it. I did talk too but the pointing simply illustrated I was friendly and the reason I was approaching her. I asked for and she willingly filled my water bottle. When I asked how far to the summit she told me it takes her more than an hour to walk it. Great. But on I went. The water was just right even though I could taste the iron in the well water.

Two miles up, and when I thought I was nearing the summit, a car waited for me to pass the entrance to his driveway then the driver yelled out some encouragement. “You’re doing an excellent job.” Maybe he’s a cyclist because most people don’t understand how an almost-defeated cyclist magically gets wings to fly when hearing words like those.

It was another mile to the summit and I rode to the Somerset-Westmoreland County border then turned around. On the descent, I wanted to fly. But I was passed by 12 bikers on six bikes just as I started my descent. Probably 2/3 of all bikers had two people on them. (To be certain, these were motorcycles.)

But as I picked up speed, and I was pedaling, I caught them and then had a dilemma. I wanted to hit 50 mph but to do that I needed to pass them. But I touched my brakes instead. I hit 48 mph but there was no way I was going to integrate with this group. They were taking pictures of one another and almost daring me to pull side by side with them. But I was rolling along on wheels that were 3/4″ wide on a bike made of carbon fiber. There was no way I would try anything stupid at this speed.

They certainly didn’t mean any harm. They were having fun too. But it was too dangerous to ride too close to them. I wasn’t happy that I didn’t hit 50 mph but it was a wonderful day with 50 miles in the mountain.

June 21, 2009August 28, 2021

A Father’s Day Ride

CHARLES TOWN, WEST VIRGINIA

This would be a special day — a day I needed on the bike. A 70-mile ride from Woodbridge, Virginia to Charles Town, West Virginia to see my wonderful daughters, Bethany, and Ashley, along with my sons-in-law and grandson.

As I left the house the clouds were very dark with strong winds that would be in my face for all 70 miles. And I am thinking this is a metaphor for my life. I am headed into dark storm clouds. Would the clouds give way to blue skies or would thunder and lightning be in store?

I know my fitness level isn’t where I need it so I decided to take my time. As much as I like to push it on the downhills I decided that I would coast down most hills instead of hammering it. I would enjoy those “whew-hoo” moments. My cadence would show that too as I averaged a lot of zeroes with my 90-100 rpm.

I go the shortest route I know. It also has the least amount of traffic but some roads are still dangerous. I go out through Manassas but Sudley Road past the Manassas Battlefield is a tight squeeze. Gum Springs Road to Braddock Road is okay but Braddock Road is a dirt road in poor shape for about three miles. I ride on U.S. 15 and 50 for a combined four dangerous miles.

After leaving Rte 50, Snickersville Turnpike is a beautiful rolling country road that leads to Airmont and a turn towards Round Hill.

At Airmont, one can see the Blue Ridge Mountains. I take satisfaction looking as far as I can see and knowing that I have crossed all the major road crossings over these summits. Straight ahead is Snickers Gap (Rte 7) and Mount Weather. Further south is Clarks Gap (US Rte 50). To the north is Harpers Ferry and the climb out of the Potomac River Valley. Today’s route connects with a shoulderless Rte 9 over Keyes’ Gap.

I made one rest stop — on Braddock Road where I consumed two energy bars. And that was it. I also consumed one energy bar while on the bike as well as one pack of Sport Beans. When I reached Rte 9 just west of Hillsboro I stopped long enough to down a packet of Hammer Gel.

Eventually, blue skies came out but those gave way to dark rain clouds. Going up Keyes’ Gap I was in a mist which I didn’t mind. It helped me cool off while making it easier to breathe. (There is more oxygen in the air when it is raining.)

The ride was difficult for me. Always a headwind, at times there were wind gusts of 30 mph and no one blocking the wind. These rides are so much easier when others share the lead.

The clouds indeed were dark but nothing bad came of them. Hopefully, that too is a metaphor for my life.

Happy Father’s Day!

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