When the race director uses words like severe, extreme, dangerous, and cruel to describe a Gran Fondo, you know it's going to be bad. But I signed up for the Garrett County Fabulous 44 anyway because....well....umm... I'm not really sure why. Because I hadn't done it yet? Because I thought it would be fun? Because peeps were doing it?
I can't remember why, but I suspect the Ironman Effect had something to do with it because I signed up way back at the beginning of the year, when I was in race-sign-up-overdrive.
Here's what was in store with the Fab 44:
More than 4900 feet elevation gain over 44 miles. Oh joy.
The race started at the top of Wisp Mountain and the first few miles were downhill with some sharp curves thrown in. I tried not to ride my brakes or run into the hoard of bikers around me. Everything was fine until that first big uphill on White Rock. I started up the hill and things seemed to be going okay, but then the road turned sharply and got steeper. I pedaled as hard as I could but felt like I was going nowhere. I finally gave up and walked.
Pathetic, I thought. And I started to wonder if I was in over my head.
What if every hill on this entire ride is this hard? Maybe I should've dug my road bike out of the basement for this one.
I decided to try to keep it positive, buckle down, and get it done. Pretty soon I was on a ridiculous downhill --steep and twisty hairpin stuff. I was hurtling down this hill trying not to ride my brakes (lest they blow a hole in my tire) but I couldn't slow down enough for the curves. Suddenly I was gaining on two other riders and had to pass them to avoid a collision. But there was another sharp turn coming up -- what if there was a car coming the other way? Luck was on my side and I somehow managed to make it to the bottom without wiping out.Whew!
I cruised into the rest stop around mile 18 to fuel up and regroup for the insane climbing to come. The rest stop was in a cute little town called Friendsville. It lived up to its name.
A steel drum ensemble serenaded us in! Friendsville had quite the festive atmosphere, indeed. I loaded up on Coke, orange slices, and pretzels, chatted around and then hit the road.
From Friendsville there's about a 6 mile climb, most of it a false flat, but gradually getting steeper as the road winds up to Bowman Hill. Bowman was the second "severe, extreme, dangerous, cruel" hill on this ride. As the race website notes:
"At 1.1 miles and 800 ft elevation gain it has to be experienced to be understood."
I experienced it alright.
I was doing fine up the first steep incline. In fact, I even got a little cocky, thinking Wow, Bowman. Is this all you got? But Bowman got the last laugh-- an evil, snarling, wicked laugh as the road got steeper and just kept going up.
I finally caved and got off my bike to walk. But walking presented its own challenges. It was too hard to walk in bike shoes, so I took them off and headed up in my socks.
It must've taken me about half an hour to get to the top. I cheered for others on the way up...and noticed that EVERYONE was on a road bike. This only reinforced my doubts about tri bike riding on hills. Most of our rides have hills, so WTH?
Beyond Bowman the hills kept coming. My legs were really feeling it. It was also hot---not just hot, but OMG HOT. I managed not to walk until the final "severe, extreme, dangerous, cruel" hill. It was the final climb to the summit of Wisp mountain. Funny, it didn't seem this steep driving up the mountain that morning.
I bailed before reaching the Team Z Cheer Station, took off my shoes, and started walking again. Alexis was blowing his vuvuzuela and offering to push me up the hill if I'd get back on my bike. Ha! Not a chance.
Once past the tent, the hill eased up enough for me to get back on my bike and I rode the rest of the way to the finish line. Whew! It had taken me 5 hours to go 44 miles. I don't EVEN want to know what that averages out to pace-wise.
When I got off my bike, I announced to all in my presence that I would not be doing the Garrett Gran Fondo again. Now, a few weeks later, I'm rethinking that.
It was the hardest ride I've ever done, no doubt, but it also took us across some beautiful countryside. It was a humbling experience too...and that can be good for the soul, every now and then.
So I'll file this one away in the "Never Say Never" file. I may not be back next year, but one year I will go back, and I will beat that Bowman Beast while laughing my way to the top!
Pathetic, I thought. And I started to wonder if I was in over my head.
What if every hill on this entire ride is this hard? Maybe I should've dug my road bike out of the basement for this one.
I decided to try to keep it positive, buckle down, and get it done. Pretty soon I was on a ridiculous downhill --steep and twisty hairpin stuff. I was hurtling down this hill trying not to ride my brakes (lest they blow a hole in my tire) but I couldn't slow down enough for the curves. Suddenly I was gaining on two other riders and had to pass them to avoid a collision. But there was another sharp turn coming up -- what if there was a car coming the other way? Luck was on my side and I somehow managed to make it to the bottom without wiping out.Whew!
I cruised into the rest stop around mile 18 to fuel up and regroup for the insane climbing to come. The rest stop was in a cute little town called Friendsville. It lived up to its name.
 |
| Our rest stop entertainment |
 |
| Note the hula skirts on our friends in Friendsville |
"At 1.1 miles and 800 ft elevation gain it has to be experienced to be understood."
I experienced it alright.
I was doing fine up the first steep incline. In fact, I even got a little cocky, thinking Wow, Bowman. Is this all you got? But Bowman got the last laugh-- an evil, snarling, wicked laugh as the road got steeper and just kept going up.
I finally caved and got off my bike to walk. But walking presented its own challenges. It was too hard to walk in bike shoes, so I took them off and headed up in my socks.
It must've taken me about half an hour to get to the top. I cheered for others on the way up...and noticed that EVERYONE was on a road bike. This only reinforced my doubts about tri bike riding on hills. Most of our rides have hills, so WTH?
Beyond Bowman the hills kept coming. My legs were really feeling it. It was also hot---not just hot, but OMG HOT. I managed not to walk until the final "severe, extreme, dangerous, cruel" hill. It was the final climb to the summit of Wisp mountain. Funny, it didn't seem this steep driving up the mountain that morning.
 |
| The Team Z Cheer Station on the final climb |
Once past the tent, the hill eased up enough for me to get back on my bike and I rode the rest of the way to the finish line. Whew! It had taken me 5 hours to go 44 miles. I don't EVEN want to know what that averages out to pace-wise.
When I got off my bike, I announced to all in my presence that I would not be doing the Garrett Gran Fondo again. Now, a few weeks later, I'm rethinking that.
It was the hardest ride I've ever done, no doubt, but it also took us across some beautiful countryside. It was a humbling experience too...and that can be good for the soul, every now and then.
So I'll file this one away in the "Never Say Never" file. I may not be back next year, but one year I will go back, and I will beat that Bowman Beast while laughing my way to the top!
No comments:
Post a Comment