SANTA BARBARA, CALIFORNIA
Sometime this week I had a dumb idea. Or three. Ride Palomar. Ride Baldy. Ride the Hillclimb World Championships. On three consecutive days.
If I was serious about putting up a good time I would not have ridden Palomar Mountain and Mount Baldy the day before the championships. Those climbs take everything out of you. But here I was.
My day started at 5:30 a.m. and I went to breakfast at the Homewood Suites in Oxnard at 6:00 a.m. Except breakfast was at 6:30 a.m. So I went to Santa Barbara without breakfast, worried more about checking in on time and not missing my start time.
While serious cyclists warmed up on trainers, many of us seemed to ride on East Cabrillo Avenue. When your group was called we had a police escort for about five miles to the beginning of the climb. I would think that’s enough of a warm up.
I lined up with 11 other cyclists; 10 men and one woman. I didn’t say a word to anyone. Someone asked me if I had ridden this before and I told him I hadn’t. Okay, one word (no). He told me had once before. I didn’t ask him about his experience. Or ask for advice. I wasn’t too conversational.
We rolled out with a police escort and at first I was in the middle of the group. But the road turned up and I decided I wasn’t going to keep their pace before the actual climb began. And I’m sure Baldy and Palomar had something to do with it. A gap developed and I was in the second group of two. And then they passed me and I was by myself. I was dropped before the race began.
There was a guy on a hybrid bike and I was sure I’d see him on the climb. I didn’t. Groups were staged every 15 minutes. The first group was 70+ and Clydesdales (190 lbs). When I registered I could have registered as a Clydesdale but was hoping I weighed less than 190 by today. It wasn’t arrogance that I refused to register as a Clydesdale but wishful thinking. I was in the second group (ages 60-69).
Behind us was the 50-59 group and behind them was the 40-49 group. By the time I reached the official start I had already climbed 1,000 feet. Talk about a warm up.
The route is beautiful. I had thought about stopping for a photo op but decided to keep the phone/camera in the pocket. I thought I was about two minutes behind my group but I would never see them today. Any of them. Even the guy on the hybrid. And the two tandems.
Then it was ride at my own pace and wait to be caught. It was a 10 km climb and about 6 km to go the first of the fast 50s went by. Pretty much 27 of their 28 riders passed me. Without about 3km to go the fast 40s came by. Looks like 15 of their 24 that started 30 minutes behind me caught me (although all had better times).
I was suffering. Too much climbing the past two days. No breakfast. I was pretending I was in the early break and was called back to wait for my team leader. One can dream.
It was hard. I never thought of quitting but I didn’t have the power and have too much weight. My power to weight ratio is skewed towards weight.
I was passed by men. By women. By a guy on an ElliptiGO. By a woman on an upright cargo bike (although I think she had an electric motor and she wasn’t racing). By a guy wearing only a Speedo.
After I finished, there wasn’t much to do at the top. No activities were at the finish line. Just turn around and descend. I took my time descending. I was recording some riders and wanting to see the pro men. I thought there would be a moto escort so I was surprised to put my phone down after taking some photos and look up and see Phil Gaimon and Peter Stetina flying around the corner uphill.
Now I am left to reflect. If your goal is winning then only Phil was a winner today. Or Phil and Aimee Vasse if you want winner by genders. We are all losers. Some second losers. Some, like me, 175th loser. DFL. In the world.
I am also reminded that I didn’t try and failed. You only fail if you don’t try. (Things losers say)
I rode because I could. Because seven months ago I could not pedal. Because five months ago I woke up in Ohio with no clue how I got there. Because nine years ago I was battling cancer and every day is a blessing so do something epic. And ego more than anything kept me from registering as a Clydesdale. Who wants to admit you are carrying too much weight? But if I had, I would have finished on the podium. Damn me.
ABOUT GILBRATAR ROAD (from The Complete Guide to Climbing, John Summerson, 2007)
Total Elevation: 3,560′ (1,085 m)
Length: 10.2 miles (16.42 km)
Average Grade: 6.6% (11%)
Rating: 2.40 (Cat 1)
100 Toughest US Climbs: #57
Gibraltar Road is a difficult and scenic climb with great views of the Channel Islands out in the Pacific Ocean. In Santa Barbara, take Mountain Dr. up the hill and stay on Mountain Dr. by turning left at the reservoir. After another 2/10th of a mile turn right on Gibraltar R. which takes you all the way to the top along a very twisty route. The top is along poor pavement and the climb ends (unmarked) by the building with antennas on your left.
The actual race was contested on:
Total Distance: 6.14 miles (9.88 km)
Total Elevation Gain: +2,593′ (790.35 m)
Avg Grade: 8%
EDIT/EPILOGUE – These were “open” championships, i.e., no qualifying necessary. One needed only to sign up and ride. I had met Phil Gaimon, the organizer, 10 years earlier at Mount Washington, New Hampshire. I had been diagnosed with cancer and his dad was dying of cancer. It’s not that we kept in touch over his pro cycling career but he contacted me in the summer and asked if I would “race” in the World Championships. My only condition is that I was permitted to finish – a DFL was okay, a DNF was not. And the way the race was structured, this would be no problem.
I had been diagnosed with an adrenal gland tumor and my endocrinologist told me that would affect my metabolism. I was gaining weight in part because of this tumor and in part because cancer took my prostate and my body was not producing testosterone anymore. But mostly because I liked to eat.
I had knee replacement surgery in February, a traumatic brain injury in May, and was overweight. I did not belong but dammit, Phil asked me to register. So I did. The adrenal tumor and prostate cancer are not excuses – just challenges. And I will (have) overcome those to be in my normal weight range for my height. Bring back the Worlds and I will ride again but next time I can’t register as a Clydesdale.
