Nothing better than a good “col” to climb while in Europe!
A “col”, of course, is the European equivalent to a “gap” in Vermont or simply where the road crests going over a mountain pass. And today’s “col”, called the Col de Jaman is a classic Swiss mountain climb, twisty, steep, shaded by thick forests and the long traverses across pastures full of cattle and the sound of their bells.
After arriving in Montreux yesterday (while attending a meeting on Knowledge Management in the United Nations in the village of Glion, perched on the hillside) I rented a big heavy bicycle at the train station. I guess that it is a regular bicycle, but after getting accustomed to riding 8 kg bikes, this 12 kb bike feels like a tank.
This is the Victoria Hotel, where my ride started this morning.
The climb is so steep that a funicular railway runs from Montreux to Glion and up the mountainside.
The route went up on mostly 1 1/2 lane roads averaging between 10%-14% grades with pitches that topped out at 25%. But even though the bike was heavy, it had a triple ring in the front and I could keep the pedals spinning at about 70-80 rpm and move slow but steady progress up, up and up.
This is the Col de Jaman, lurking way up there. The road was switchbacks that snaked up the hillside.
Looking back down on Lac Leman with Geneva way, way off in the distance.
Up at the Col, looking back down the hill.
The road ends at Col de Jaman, but a lot of people come up here to park and walk up into the Alps beyond.
The ride was about two and a half hours, or about two hours going up and a half hour coming down. 778 meters of climbing with no break.. just up, up, up.
As promised, after the big crash in January while descending too fast in Thailand, on today’s ride I focused on going up the hill much faster and down the hill very, very slowly. Not the same adrenaline rush, but I arrived back at the hotel without falling down, which is the simple goal these days.
While descending a winding mountain road in Northern Thailand on 25 January 2011 I suffered a fairly serious accident when I miscalculated a hairpin curve and went flying off the road into what I thought was a brushy culvert with my bicycle. Although I didn’t realize the extent of my injuries at the time, I had ripped the little finger on my right hand back towards the wrist, breaking two bones and tearing the webbing between my fingers, as well as cracking two ribs (the 5th and 6th) on my right side, crushing my clavicle/sternum joint and shoulder and injuring my right ear. Now, almost thirteen weeks later, after much rehabilitation and some procrastination, I’m ready to tell the story of the ride that day, the accident, my treatment at the hospital in the town of Pai, my 70-hour journey home to New York, the surgery on my hand, the prolonged and opiate-aided recovery, the detox from the opiates and my current rehabilitation.
While some of the reverse-chronology details can be found on my Facebook feed, I realize now (after recently posting a video of my emergency room visit in Pai) that some Facebook friends somehow missed the updates and there are others who might follow this blog and were surprised to find the narrative of our cycle tour end so abruptly. So, here is the story from it last left off, on the road from Chiang Mai to Mae Hong Song.
Slow Easy First Day: Long Ride Ahead (message not posted on 24 January)
(This posting was written on 23 January but not uploaded since we were in rural Thailand, off the grid and far from a WiFi signal.)
Slingbox is a wonderful thing, except when the Jets lose. All the marvels of modern technology allowed me to sit in the breakfast area of the Thaephae Garden Guest House and watch my TIVO back in New York. However, despite a third and fourth quarter surge, all the coolest technology couldn’t get us a Division Championship. So, as soon as the Jets had lost, we loaded up the van and drove just outside of the heavily congested urban area of Chiang Mai and took off on our ride.
The photo below is of Khun Jame loading the bikes and Markus, at our hotel in Chiang Mail
Our dilemma was that the distance from Chiang Mai to Pai was either one very, very long ride with huge mountains during the last eighty kilometers… or a two-day ride with a relatively easy spin the first day and some intense climbs and a shorter stretch on day two. Given that I had just done a twelve-hour time zone change and only slept about four hours last night due to jet lag, Markus and I decided on taking it easy today.
We rode for just two hours, from just outside of Chiang Mai to just before the huge climbs, leaving them for two big climbs tomorrow morning before it gets too hot and the traffic is still light.
Two hours on the bike averaging 30 km per hour is not necessarily an “easy” day. But, on a seven-day ride, the objective is to get stronger and stronger during the ride and not burn out on day one. The geography and topography was against us as we started and this was the best option. So, when we got to the lunch spot, rather than to decide to push on for the next three hours through some 15%-20% hills, we ordered Heinekens and our guide, Khun Jame, found us a very nice pair of bungalows for about US$20 a night. Our plans, tomorrow, are to fuel up on toast and eggs before departing just after dawn in the early morning calm.
We drank a few beers, had some good Thai food and saved the big push for the days ahead. This is a marathon, not a sprint and our worries were that we would hammer like hell today and feel like crap for the next seven days. My best multi-day events have been where I paced at the beginning and got stronger as the race went on. Let’s hope that strategy works here.
Below, a tasty Pad Thai as fuel for the day ahead.
==========================================
January 25 2011: The 80 km of hills from near Mork Fal Waterfall into Pai (almost)
Markus and I had breakfast at dawn, with the intention of getting out on the road early so that we would be climbing during the cooler part of the day. As you can see from the Google Earth image above, the route for the day rose and fell through a series of hills, gradually topping out at about 1400 meters. All together, we climbed about 2000 meters of vertical elevation during the day, which was about what we wanted to do on the second day of a six or seven day ride with some big climbing days to come later in the week (or so we believed at the time.)
The three charts above are a good story of the day.. the accident occurred at about 68 km on the descent into Pai. However, I forgot to turn off my Garmin so the speed and elevation from 68 km until we arrived at the hospital in Pai were not from cycling. You can see from the heart rate graph that right at 68 km it (and I) fell sharply. The Garmin data from the moment of the accident shows that I was doing just about 53 k/hr at the moment of impact. It is not the flying off the road that will hurt you but the stopping and that was a pretty brutal deceleration!
We stopped mid-morning for a bowl of soup at a roadside café, which also had some amazing cellophane-wrapped baskets of fresh strawberries.
During the long climb I turned on a little micro video camera attached to the handlebars and recorded two segments of the ride up through the National Forest. (Unfortunately, although I had my camera recording on the descent and at the moment of my crash, for some reason the file didn’t save properly and the recording of the accident is lost. We tried to recover the file using several tools, but nothing worked… so the video of the crash is lost, maybe for the better.)
The video below was taken about an hour before the crash. It is shaky and with very little narration, but gives a good indication of the terrain and how the curves on the road are laid out in sort of a predictable pattern, which is significant later in the day on the descent.
Just after 1:00 pm that day we met up at the crest of the climb and this is a picture of Khun Jame:
And, Khun Jame took this one of me just before the long descent into Pai and the accident about twenty minutes later.
From this point, the road descended downwards heading into the town of Pai. Most of the descent was a mixture of long easy curves and some switchbacks, in a fairly predictable pattern that allowed me time to anticipate and slow down as necessary. However there were two factors that I think contributed to the crash: 1) I was riding with some cars that had passed me at the beginning of the descent and as the road got steeper and more curvy, they were slowing in front of me and keeping me from going as fast as I'd wanted (bicycles can go down curvy mountain roads much faster then cars); 2) although it was in the early afternoon, only three days before I had been in New York where my body clock said it was just about midnight. So at one point in the descent when I saw an opening I passed the cars and was accelerating down the hill as fast as I could in order to stay in front of them, all the while with a brain that might have thought it was the middle of the night. Maybe I wasn’t at my sharpest.
As I had just finished going around one switchback and was going down about a 12% grade the road turned to the left and then suddenly got much steeper (maybe 18% down) and there was a switchback to the right that I had not anticipated. I was going exactly 53.8 km/h according to my Garmin 800 when I had one of those awful split second choices; either attempt to brake hard, lean into the curve and probably lose it and crash off the side of the road down the cliff, or dump the bike and head towards the side of the road into what I thought was a softer landing in the bushes.
Minutes after the crash, I walked about 25 m up the road and took this picture back towards the place that I crashed. This picture was taken right from the point where I decided that I wasn't going to make the curve and I headed between the small white road barrier and the sign. It looked at the time like a better choice. In the picture you can see Khun Jame in the orange T-shirt standing just to the right of the road marker and I had aimed just between those two road markers.
Over the last 11 weeks I've had a lot of time to think about the moment of the crash and what happened. I really had thought that I was going to be landing in some bushes rather than plunging down into a ravine and landing in a pile of dirt. In hindsight I probably should've thrown the bike away from me, because when I landed I think that my little finger got caught in the handlebars and got bent back towards my wrist and as my front wheel slammed into the dirt I fell right on the stem, which attaches the handlebars to the frame, snapping my two ribs. Somehow I also landed very hard on my shoulder and the right side of my helmet, spraining the joint between my clavicle and sternum and slightly separating my AC joint at the top of my right shoulder.
I was conscious throughout the entire event, however as I tried to climb out of the pit I had to stop as I went into shock and the entire world got very dark and I came close to passing out. Just after the moment of the crash, I caught my breath and looked up out of the hole to see the car that I had passed several minutes before slow and stop to check that I was okay. At that moment Khun Jame pulled up, called down to me to see if I was okay, and the other vehicle continued down the road.
This is the hole that I landed in, about four meters down from the road and most definitely not a soft landing.
As strange as it might sound, one of my first thoughts in getting out of the hole, was to take some photographs of the crash site and the road up and down from where the accident occurred. I had been in too many incidents where it later occurred to me that I should've taken some pictures and so this entire event and follow up is pretty well documented.In the photo above, which was taken about 3 min. after the crash, Khun Jame is climbing out of the hole where he was checking to see if anything had fallen off of my bike. The photo below, taken later, is of my helmet which was pretty much destroyed by the impact. For anyone who needs to convince their children that they should wear bike helmets, please feel free to use this photograph as part of your sales pitch.
Within minutes of the crash, Khun Jame had loaded my bike into the van and I had absolutely no idea how badly I was injured. It's amazing how adrenaline kicks in during these times and makes you feel like a Superman. In the picture below, I was smiling but I can see by the droop in my right shoulder that it must've been slightly separated and I thought at the time that my ribs were only bruised and that my right little finger might only have gotten sprained.
The two pictures above are both taken looking back up the road from the crash site. You can see from the pictures that the road curved to the left and then immediately dropped off and hairpins off to the right again. At 50+ kilometers per hour I must've been almost airborne when I tried to brake off of the first curve.
Khun Jame and I got into the van and started the nearly 10 km trip down the hill into the town of Pai. I was mostly worried about my little finger and took a picture of it (see below) as we are heading down the road.
We drove that last stretch into town slowly, looking for Markus who had ridden on ahead and was unaware of what happened. I tried several times to call him on his mobile and send some text messages. We finally reached him when we got into the town of Pai and found him at a little restaurant drinking a beer and waiting for me to ride into town and join him. He certainly didn't expect us to pull up together in the van and certainly didn't know what to do when suddenly the gash between my fingers started spilling blood on the pavement and we all decided that rather than have a beer we would head to the hospital. I honestly at that point had no idea how badly I was injured and thought at the time that it might be best to check into a hotel in Pai and wait for a day before starting to ride again. Until there was major blood, only when we got into town, did I have an inkling that perhaps our cycling adventure was over and that this was much more serious than I had thought.
Khun Jame, Markus and I drove over to the hospital and walked into the emergency room. There was no wait and they attended to me immediately. Marcus took pictures and helped me remove my glove, rather than cutting it off. I'm still now firmly convinced that without the protection of my riding glove, that little finger would have been torn completely off. There was just enough structure in the glove to keep the finger attached to the hand.
It was probably my own stupidity and a fair dose of self-denial that I thought my ribs were only bruised rather than broken. So the nurses in the emergency room concentrated on my hand and the lacerations on my ear, and sent me off only for an x-ray of my right hand.
This is a snap of the x-ray taken in the little hospital in Pai, with a clear fracture of the right fifth metacarpal and although I did not see it at the time, a fracture of the next joint past the knuckle; the proximal phalanges.
The nurses began to work, cleaning up the hand while Markus pulled out his phone and began documenting everything. I don't think they let you do that in US hospitals, but Marcus took my favorite approach to these sorts of situations; it's better to seek forgiveness later than ask permission. The following two videos are not for the squeamish and probably have too much information, but there are fascinating look at the treatment. In one I learned the word for "pain" in Thai (GIP! GIP!) as I'm injected with painkiller. In the other one the Dr. puts one or two of the seven stitches between my pinky and ring fingers.
Not for squeamish! Injecting pain killer into finger
Stitching that finger up
Kudos to Markus for this shot and these videos, since I would never have been able to sit there with a camera and shoot this stuff.
The Dr. also attended to my right ear, which had gotten pretty torn up probably by the helmet shards as it broke on impact. They thought that they needed to put in some stitches to reattach some places where it'd pulled the skin from the ear cartilage, but they just fixed it up with a number of butterfly bandages.
Markus also grabbed a picture (see below) of the two of us in the emergency room.
The doctor there, who spoke very good English, said that since I was from New York and "they have very good hospitals there in New York", I should go home to have my hand operated on within the next 10 days.
So after about an hour of scrubbing up the wounds, some x-rays, stitching back on my ear and my finger and a prescription filled for Advil, it was time to pay the bill. I was a little nervous and thought that I should call to my insurance company back in the United States to let them know that I've been admitted to an emergency room so that I could later get reimbursement for the hospital bill. However when the total bill arrived it was for 720 baht, or about US$23. I know that back home in the States this would've been a $3000 bill at least. So needless to say I didn't contact my insurance company and we paid the bill, loaded up the van and decided to head back to Chang Mai immediately.
It took us about 2 1/2 hours to drive from Pai back to Chang Mai. Markus had already called his wife Lisa, who had sent an e-mail to Pam telling her that I'd been in an accident. I decided that it was pretty important for me to call Pam so that she could hear my voice and know that I was okay before she got the e-mail from Lisa.
So, even though was only about 4:30 AM back in New York I called Pam, waking her up with the not so good news that I'd been involved in a bike accident and was going to make arrangements to come back to New York as quickly as possible. Although not pleased to have gotten a phone call at that time of the morning, she said later that it was the best thing to do so that she could hear directly from me that I was okay.
It was on the ride back, particularly going around those hairpin curves and going over bumps that I figured out the probably my ribs were more than just bruised. Later, on arriving back in New York, the radiologist who examined my x-rays said that he had no problem finding the two broken ribs. My biggest worry at that point was the pain involved in taking a deep breath and what in the world I might do if I ever had to cough or sneeze.
By early evening we were back in Chang Mai, where we had started two days before. Somehow I got out of my riding gear and somewhat cleaned up in the shower, but between my head, shoulder, ribs, and hand I was feeling pretty beat up. Lying down was a real problem, particularly rolling over on the one side. For that first night in Chang Mai, all during the trip home and for the next several weeks I slept sitting up in a chair or recliner.
The Long Trip Home from Chiang Mai to New York City: 70 hours!
That evening while in Chang Mai I called up United Airlines and spoke with the Global Services representative to see about booking my flight back home for the next day. She was able to get me a business class flight out of Bangkok to Los Angeles and a First Class flight from Los Angeles directly back to JFK. I then called Ian Hamilton, my travel agent in Cape Town South Africa, who was able to book me on a flight out of Chang Mai the following afternoon to make my connection on Thai Airways to Los Angeles.
Markus helped me to break down my bicycle and get it into the bicycle bag and to pack my gear in my duffel bag. After a fitful night’s sleep, Khun Jame drove me out to the airport where he and Markus helped get me checked in, my bicycle and duffel bag as well as my briefcase checked all the way back to JFK and escorted me as far as immigration and security. From there I was on my way alone, with a one-hour flight from Chang Mai to Bangkok, a short layover and a 12 hour flight into Los Angeles.Thailand is one of those places where you can go into a pharmacy and get just about anything you want without prescription. Looking back on it now, I probably should've gotten some heavy pain killers like Percocet, OxyContin or Vicodin but I really didn't want to do a long plane flight looped out on drugs. So I stuck with the one painkiller I know well and basically drank vodka tonics all the way home.
It was not a comfortable flight from Bangkok to Los Angeles. The business class seats on Thai only recline to a not flat 160° or so and every single bump and every one of my twists was painful. Looking back now, I probably should have tried to get a first-class seat on a more indirect route but would've had a better journey across the Pacific.
On arrival in Los Angeles, both Thai Airways and the United Global Services representatives were extremely helpful in getting me through immigration and customs and provided transportation over to the check-in counter for my flight from Los Angeles to New York. The only glitch at LAX was that while I could walk just fine, carrying my carry-on bag with my laptop computer and other equipment was just a little bit too much for the broken ribs. The counter attendants at check-in requested disabled assistance but the woman who showed up with the wheelchair said I had to sit down in the wheelchair and could not just put my bag in it. So I sent her away and went back up to the counter where one of the nice Global Services walked with me through security, carrying my bag all the way to the First Class lounge.
However at this point in the journey back home the only glitch was the weather in New York. A snowstorm was approaching and although they thought that they might get my flight off, after delaying it for five or six hours, they finally canceled the flight and made arrangements for the First Class passengers to be transferred over to a nearby hotel to spend the night, and we would be rebooked on a flight the next day as soon as JFK reopened. Normally this wouldn't of been a problem, but I was feeling fairly uncomfortable and just wanted to get back to New York and check myself into a hospital. I even considered at one point just getting into a cab and going straight to a hospital somewhere near LAX, but finally thought that maybe it might be better to get all of this taken care of back at home.
United Airlines was unable to provide direct disabled/handicapped assistance to the hotel, but I did sit in the wheelchair at this point and they took me to the pickup point for the shuttle bus to the hotel where I spent the night and returned to the airport the next morning. It took longer to open JFK after the snowstorm than they had imagined and the flight was delayed several more hours but finally I boarded and arrived Thursday night at JFK, just about 70 hours after having left Chang Mai.
This picture above was taken by my car service driver in the JFK parking garage. I've done a number of endurance events in my life, like triathlons and marathons and long-distance cycling events, but nothing quite compares to this journey from Thailand back to New York City. After the drive from JFK back to our apartment in Manhattan, I collapsed in sobs, so happy to be back home, wounded but at least safe and sound.
The Recovery
Pam accompanied me the next morning to my appointment with Dr. Beldner, the orthopedist hand surgeon, who took further x-rays, cleaned up my hand and made an appointment for surgery 10 days later. Pam and I then went to see Jeff Buckner, my personal family practice doctor, who prescribed some pain killers to help make me more comfortable.
And then four days later, Jennifer, who works with me in the IISD New York office, accompanied me down to the radiologist who took some pictures of my chest to see what was going on there. He had no problem finding the two broken ribs and when I returned to Dr. Buckner's office he increased my pain medication and we had a good talk about how to deal with broken ribs.
What I learned is that there is no treatment for broken ribs, no wrapping or protection and the only thing you can do for them is rest and wait. My two broken ribs, five and six, are both breathing ribs and therefore particularly problematic. I've tried staying very still and not breathing in order to give them a chance to heal but usually can't last for more than about 45 seconds (that's a joke) so these ribs are always moving and that makes the healing process that much more prolonged.
The other big problem is that we normally cough occasionally in order to clear fluids out of our lungs. However my breathing ribs were broken and therefore I was doing everything in my power not to cough and having problems taking deep breaths, actually fearing the thought of sneezing. I learned that most patients with broken ribs are prescribed pain medication in order to be able to withstand the agony of coughing. Because, if one does not cough, the lungs can fill with fluid and this can lead to pneumonia.
Beginning several days before I had begun taking 5 mg Percocet and the dosage was increased to 10 mg, which made me much more comfortable although I don't recall with great clarity everything that took place during February and much of March.
However, in my opiate induced haze, I did have the courage to cough and my pain was managed successfully so that despite some really broken bits I was comfortable and sedated enough so that I didn't try something stupid like trying to exercise. The biggest temptation was to sit down at the computer and do business, since friends don't let friends do business while on opiates. During this period, Jennifer provided a great buffer between me in Lala land and the organization that I lead in Reporting Services at IISD.
I have learned more than I wanted to about the physiological effects of large opiate doses particularly on one's general intestinal tract. I have a greater appreciation for G.I. regularity than ever before. Enough said.
On 7 February my right hand was operated on at Beth Israel hospital in New York, 13 days after my accident in Thailand. It was an outpatient procedure however I was under general anesthetic and woke up in the recovery room speaking Portuguese to a Brazilian nurse who was overseeing my return to consciousness. Dr. Beldner had inserted two pins to set the proximal phalanges and used two screws to repair the fifth metacarpal.
I had a foam splint attached to my cast to keep the hand immobile and upright.
Just about 10 days later I returned to the doctor's office and they removed my larger cast and replaced it with a smaller cast just up as the wrist. And then about 2 1/2 weeks later they removed the cast and the doctor pulled out the two pins, leaving in the screws.
I had fully expected that as soon as the cast was removed I would begin Occupational Therapy and I'd be back to cycling and have the full use of my hand within a week or two. However I learned that whenever the hand and wrist are bound up for a long time like this that the joints become stiff and scar tissue forms in the hand blocking the free movement of tendons. I had the cast removed on 4 March and had my first occupational therapy session on March 7. Now almost 7 weeks later I still have very little movement in my right pinky finger and am struggling each day with finger exercises and trying to get my wrists to bend without pain.
However the biggest challenge that I faced was coming unglued from the opiates. As Dr. Buckner explained to me there are two types of addictions that can take place with opiates; physical and psychological. On 7 March, I decided it was time for me to stop taking the Percocet and went from 16 tablets a day to just one tablet a day almost overnight. I had no psychological addiction and could stop without any problem, however over the next several days I got more and more paranoid and very irritable so that by Thursday of that week, when in a staff meeting, I totally lost it and started yelling at people.
What I now realize is that as I was coming off of the opiates the pain in my hand, shoulder and ribs were coming “unmasked.” The opiates had been doing their job and without them, Iwas in pain! I was feeling invincible and thought that I could simply tell my body it was time to come back to normal and had gone for a jog on the treadmill. Then my ribs really hurt again and I started taking the Percocet, thinking that I had read damaged my ribs. Suddenly, taking the pain pills again the paranoia and the irritability went away as well and I booked an appointment with Dr. Buckner to try and figure out what was going on. He explained that while part of my brain could tell myself to stop, another part of my brain felt that I had promised to give it opiates and that I had a physical addiction that needed to be taken care of through a gradual scheduled reduction. He prescribed a lower dose painkiller, Vicodin with acetaminophen, and over the next three weeks I slowly reduced my dosage so that by 13 April I was totally off the opiates and just taking Excedrin extra strength tablets up to the maximum 4000 mg a day.
The entire opiate and painkiller experience has been a fascinating one for me and I can now understand how seductive they are how easily it might be for some people to become addicted. I really didn't like the way they made me feel since I couldn't form sentences, quickly remember details or make good decisions. They were great for what they did but I'm very glad to have put them away.
Getting back to moving again has been a whole other experience. For two weeks in March, from the 14th to the 25th, my good friend and yoga teacher, Davi Cohen, came by the apartment to do some home yoga sessions. Just getting moving again was so wonderful as my body remembered the positions and the ways that it had moved two months before. In yoga there is the expression "samskara" , which refers to the etchings, lines or patterns in one's yoga practice. As I twisted and turned my body knew the samskara and it gave me great pleasure, a warm glow and even a tingling sometimes when I'd move back into old asanas. These last two weeks, when I've been taking public yoga classes at Yogaworks on the Upper East Side, it has been the best physical therapy possible. I'm also firmly convinced that having an active, advanced yoga practice four or five times a week for the year before my accident was one of the factors that both made the accident less worse in the recovery much easier. The core muscles and the overall tone and flexibility that comes from a vigorous yoga practice provided a base level from which it was easier to come back.
So today, 24 April, three months from the day of my accident in Thailand I finally felt recovered enough to tell the story. I'm still in a great deal of pain, as my ribs are healed but still very tender and my shoulder, both in the clavicle and AC joint, still move with some discomfort. Every day I spend hours working my fingers, doing hot and cold contrast baths and trying to get full range of motion back in my hand and wrist. Last week I rode my bicycle twice up and back to yoga, but only my fixie bike with the flat straight handlebars that I can grab easily with my right hand. Although my new Pinarello Dogma was finished last week and I had it delivered by John from Conrad's bicycle shop 10 days ago, I still don't have the confidence in my right hand arm and shoulder to go for a ride.
So for the time being it sits on the rack in the living room waiting a few more days until I feel strong enough to ride. Maybe there's just a little bit of hesitation too about getting back on a bike. I’m dealing with that.
The upside to the downside is that I have two great takeaways from the experience. One is that I have mastered the Dragon NaturallySpeaking voice recognition software and have written and edited this entire piece without using the keyboard since it's still very difficult for me to type with my right hand. Even though I may gain the entire use of my right hand again I don't think I'll ever stop using the voice recognition software for writing and controlling the computer.
The second thing that is my take away from this experience is something that my management coach, Steven Marks, told me. He said that for the rest of my life I should concentrate on going up so much faster and going down hills much more slowly. I think it's excellent advice!
The MOOSA Tour, put on by InMotion Events, is a six-day fully-supported bicycle trip that begins in Bethel, Maine and loops up through New Hampshire, slices through just a bit of Vermont, crosses the border into Quebec and then swings back to the east and south back to Bethel. This year’s trip began on Sunday, 27 June and finished on Friday, 2 July 2010.
The MOOSA Tour is organized by Al and April, the owners of InMotion, which is based out of Auburn, NY and which usually hosts two-four rides per year in the Northeast of the United States, either along the Erie Canal, through the Finger Lakes, in the Adirondacks or in the Maine and Nova Scotia area. Al is one of the original organizers of the hugely popular Bonton Roulet, which cycles around the Finger Lakes each summer and is hosted by the YMCA in Auburn. The rides are a great formula; you can camp or stay in motel/hotels and they provide some meals and truck your gear from camping site to camping site while you cycle anywhere from 40-70 miles per day. The participants are usually strong recreational cyclists, most in their 30s-60s and are generally friendly and almost everyone mixes in well.
One of the best improvements over the years to the InMotion formula has been addition of an option called Comfy Campers(formerly Camptel.) This service makes camping a whole lot less stressful. For a extra fee they provide nice high-end tents, a big air mattress, a fresh shower towel and a camp chair, which are all ready and waiting when you finish your daily ride. Below are the Comfy Camper tents at our campsite just outside of the Parc de la gorge de Coaticook in Quebec. The blue tents are the deluxe and the tan tents are the standards.
This service used to be owned by Al and April, who sold it to Shawn Stewart who runs it as an independent company for both InMotion events and other bike touring companies.
Day 0 - Saturday, 26 June 2010 – Bethel, Maine
I flew from Newark, New Jersey to Portland, Maine and was picked up by Steve, one of the volunteer riders and we arrived at Bethel Outdoor Adventures just in time to watch the US lose to Ghana in the World Cup. The campground is on the shores of the Androscoggin River, just about a half mile from the center of Bethel and an hour and a half by car north of Portland.
My bike, which I had sent up by Fedex Ground, was nicely assembled by Bethel Bicycle (thanks Peter and Maggie!) We had the pre-ride meeting in the late afternoon and I had a great meal at the Crossroads Diner (along with friendly conversation…. is everyone in Maine so open to speaking with strangers?? This was not NYC!)
Day 1 - Sunday, 27 June 2010 – Bethel, Maine to Errol, New Hampshire
Way up at 44° north, the sky gets bright and the sun rises early in late June. And, living outdoors on these rides, you fall into some non-urban sleep patterns. So, by 5:00 am I was up to shower and head off to breakfast back at the Crossroads Cafe.
At 5:30 the place was full of locals and I sat down to a short stack of pancakes, real maple syrup and potatoes with coffee. This is the kind of breakfast you want before riding off down the road.
And, this was the first road marking as we took off…. and we followed those orange asphalt graffiti for the next 350 miles.
Sunday, Day 1 was a short day since the planned campsite, about 10 miles further down the road, had cancelled on the tour organizers at the last minute. However, we spent the night just outside of Errol, Maine, which was being invaded by motorcycles in the area for some biker rally. All two wheels, but those beasts are noisy. We heard the roars of the bikers all day and into the evening.
My favorite site on the ride north was a cute little pie stand by the side of the road. No one around and all the pies and preserves were for sale on the “honor system.” You just left your money and took what you wanted. There are few places in the world where this works, but you find these all over New England and Upstate New York.
It was a short ride on Sunday and I’d arrived early into the campground where the perverse incentive for leaving early and riding fast was to help Hank unload the gear bags from the truck.
Day 2 - Monday, 28 June 2010 – Errol, New Hampshire to Coaticook, Quebec
One of the challenges of living outdoors for a week is trying to figure out the weather and what to wear during the day. Once we pack up our gear each morning and head off down the road, we are left with what we can carry on our bikes and with changing weather this can present a real problem. During the night, the rain had started and continued through until dawn, falling hard on the tents and leaving the field where we were camped a real bog. Having good information on the weather is not only useful but also essential for having a good day on the road.
However, I had packed my laptop and was able to connect into a WiFi signal and get the latest weather radar at first light. It showed a huge green and yellow blob that had been tracking over the region through the night but there was a break in storm and the trailing edge looked like it would pass over us around 7:30. So, armed with this good information, I spoke to a few friends on the ride to let them know that if they wanted to wait for a few minutes, it looked like drier riding in a few minutes. And, just as expected, the rain stopped and I headed out down the road trying to get in as much distance before the rain might come again.
This day’s ride took us up through New Hampshire, through the very upper right hand corner of Vermont and across the border into Canada. The border officials were expecting us and I used my new Nexus card to cross into Canada.
The rain fell for about an hour half way through the ride and then again after entering Canada. So, it was a day of putting on the rain top, riding overheated but dry and then taking it off, over and over again as the showers started and stopped. With no fenders the rear wheel spray had soaked my shorts and the grit from the road was all over the frame and chain.
Here I am climbing up a particularly nasty pitch, with my rain gear in a sack on my back and wearing clear lenses in my Oakleys due to the low light and heavy rain. It was a gritty, wet day for me and the bike.
So, on entering Coaticook ahead of most of the riders, I pulled into a great little bike shop with a superb mechanic, who pulled off and cleaned the chain, blew the dirt off the bike, removed and cleaned my cassette and put the whole thing back together for me. There is nothing like a clean drive train! Then it was time to dry out the gear while the sun shined in the afternoon.
The picture above is of the InMotion information table, where messages were posted with information for the 80 riders. Also, there were coolers (lower left) with beer, wine and soft drinks and a container for money for the drinks.
We stayed that night at the Parc de la gorge de Coaticook and I went into town with Harry and Jan, a lovely couple from Pennsylvania, where I feasted on chicken wings, shrimp, steak and some delicious baklava at a Greek restaurant. After a day of riding with no breakfast or lunch, this early dinner was one of the best meals on the ride.
Without the distractions of urban existence, it is easy to run out of things to do by 8:00 pm. There are no web sites to visit, emails to read, no TV shows on the TIVO and no lights to fool one into thinking that it is really daytime. So, by the end of the second day, I was ready for my sleeping bag and air mattress by 8:30 or so… and woke at 4:30 in the morning. Great sleeps, although the thin nylon of the tents does not block much of the sounds coming from other campers, who snore, cough, zip and unzip their tents and roll around on those loud air mattresses all night. It is funny that I can live in Manhattan and sleep through police sirens, music booming from cars in the street and the roar of traffic and helicopters overhead, but am bothered at camp by someone farting three tents away. Go figure.
Day 3 - Tuesday, 29 June 2010 – Coaticook to Notre Dame Des Bois, Quebec
On Tuesday, I rose early and headed to the showers before taking off down the road. On a long multi-day ride, there is nothing more important than keeping that area where the seat hits the meat clean, dry and free of growing bacteria and other flora. It is easy for Candida albicans, that nasty skin yeast infection, to begin growing, resulting in inflamed skin.. which can make for a very miserable day. So, I’m pretty fastidious about wearing clean riding shorts each day, using the expensive but excellent ASSOS Chamois Crème and making sure that the first thing I do at the end of each ride is to get out of the damp shorts, into the shower and then wear loose fitting shorts to allow the area to breath and dry out. The whole idea is to reduce friction and prevent bacteria and yeast from finding a place to call home. This year with 100% effective crotch management, I was as comfortable sitting on the seat the last day of the ride as I was on the first.
On this morning, I left early and went to Le Coin, a lovely coffeeshop in Coaticook for crepes and coffee before heading out. The ride was 61 miles with more than almost five and a half thousand feet of climbing.
Most of the climbing was long, long gradual 1% and 2% grades, which I really love. You can see from the photos below the long rolling nature of the roads.
So, the third day was a perfect day for holding 200 watts while grinding up long straight flat stretches of road, really working hard. It is funny how you can get stronger rather than more tired on multi-day rides like this (although I did end up paying for all this work by the end of the following day.)
From the day’s ride profile you can see that there were those long grades. From 35 to 50 miles the elevation gain was from 700 feet to 1700 feet… 1000 feet total in fifteen miles. Some up and down but mostly gradual up and up.
About 10 miles from the finish, I stopped in La Patrie, a small town mostly remarkable for the fact that two large roads meet there and not much else. However, I sat outside on the porch of a lovely restaurant and inhaled eight hot chicken wings, a big hamburger and three real Pepsi-Colas. It is all about the calories on a trip like this.
In Notre Dame des Bois, we camped at the school and were served two great meals, at dinner and again the next morning, by members of the community. It was home cooking for eighty hungry riders. The rain came in late in the afternoon, catching the stragglers out on the road in a drenching downpour. Luckily, the tents were all pitched and we were able to go inside the huge ice hockey rink (no ice this time of year) while the storm passed. This was the last of the big downpours on the trip and we had pretty good weather, except for some light showers the following afternoon, the rest of the week.
Day 4 - Wednesday, 30 June 2010 – Notre Dame Des Bois, Quebec to Kingfield, Maine
We rode back across the border into the US on Wednesday, the fourth day of riding. We were served such a great breakfast that I was in no hurry to head off riding, particularly since the start of the day was all uphill. So, I waited until almost everyone else had left before riding off, but still ended up arriving early in Kingfield, where the punishment reward for hard riding was helping to unload the truck.
Luckily, I did not get in trouble for taking this picture, as we rode up to the border crossing back into the US. Some of the other riders did, but honestly, if you are going to give someone grief for taking a picture, you should have a sign up that says, “No photos” or something. Ah, back in the US and the crazy mania for security and the misplacement and miscalculation of real risks.
Here is a shot (below) of our rest stop on Day 4, which was a lovely place to grab some cookies, peanut butter on saltines, refill the water bottles and grab some fresh fruit.
This was another high mileage day and, again I was feeling frisky and pushed the wattage. Aside from the vertical up and downs over the first ten miles, the rest of the day pretty much was flat moving through rolling hills until the last twenty miles that followed the river that you can see above.
However, by the end of the day, I was really feeling fatigued. A group of us walked into the town of Kingfield to sit out on the back porch of the Longfellow’s Restaurant for some baked brie and burgers. Two hours later we were served a big spaghetti dinner back at our campsite and I inhaled that as well. Nothing like burning 4,000 to 5,000 extra calories a day to work up an appetite!
This was our campground in Kingfield, with the blue and tan Comfy Camper tents all lined up nicely and the others, who pitched their own tents, scattered off to the right. In the lower right, you can see the bags of the riders who had not arrived yet. The organizers could tell if anyone was still out on the road and needed to be fetched if their bag was still there at the end of the day.
Day 5 - Thursday, 1 July 2010 – Kingfield to Rangeley, Maine
The local Masonic lodge prepared breakfast for us at the Kingfield school and they had everything ready early. I was up at 5:00 am to check my email, recharge some devices (like the battery for my DuraAce Di2 electronic shifters), download some podcasts to listen to during the ride and get some coffee. I had the most interesting discussion with one of the volunteers, who had been in town government (maybe the former mayor) and was interested in new technologies for energy conservation. He wanted to do long term investment in capturing methane from septic systems and cattle/dairy operations and had taken some courses in renewable energy. We talked about sales of ecosystem services and discussed some of the principles of “green economy”, which he found fascinating. It was one of the most intelligent conversations that I had during the week… and all over coffee at 5:15 am.
In terms of distance (42 miles) or feet climbed (3542) it was not the farthest ride or the most altitude gained, but by day five in this ride, I was exhausted. There was no power in my legs at all… which is why my average heart rate for the day was only 119 bpm, which is really low. My fitness was fine, but there was no push for the pedals. This is probably why, after arriving in Rangeley and showering, I went straight to my tent and slept for an hour.
No, I did not see a single moose on the whole trip. I’m convinced that the residents of Maine have us all fooled into believing that there are moose in Maine just to get us to drive all the way up to their damn state.
Here is a shot at the rest stop on Day 5, full of goodies:
The last shower of the ride started just as I was pulling into Rangeley, and so I quickly looked for a place to stop and eat. One of my favorite types of food after riding is Thai, and there it was.. the Thai Blossom Express, right on main street. The owner was a former Thai chef in Tehran during 1979 and during the takeover of the US Embassy he hid four Americans, who with his help managed to get to the Canadian Embassy. The pad thai had too much fish sauce and was far too sweet, but maybe this is the way that people from Maine like their Asian food. But the hot sour soup hit the spot after the long ride.
This was the last night of our trip and we had a big dinner at a restaurant in Rangeley, where InMotion provided beer and we had a big Italian dinner. Gary, our ride leader, circulated pictures of riders from the trip and generally entertained the crowd. By the end of the week, we had nicely arranged ourselves into small cliques, and I we assembled a great table with Sandy and Steve (who were married on a bike ride several years ago), Helen and Steve, Harry and Jan, Nicole (from Comfy Campers), Ed and Bob. (Below is a picture of Sandy, who was a real character, giving me some kind of crap for taking a picture of her with her mouth full.)
Day 6 - Friday, 2 July 2010 – Rangeley to Bethel, Maine
Friday dawned bright and sunny, easily the nicest day of the year. The weather had been cold for the last several days, dropping down below 10C (around 45-50 degrees F) at night. But, this day promised to warm quickly and did.
My flight from Portland was scheduled to leave at 7:00 pm and the ride was long, with almost 66 miles of road between Rangeley and the end of the ride back in Bethel. However, the real motivating factor that got my butt out of the tent and on the bike heading down the road was the World Cup quarterfinal match between Brazil and the Netherlands. I figured that if I grabbed some calories in camp, had a Cliff bar on the road, ate well at the rest stops, I could skip breakfast, hammer up the hills and then ride mostly downhill through the mountains into the town of Mexico, Maine and make it back in time to see the second half of the game.
The day’s ride profile was the perfect one for the last ride in a multi-day event like this.
We climbed early in the day, heading up to the summit overlooking the lakes in the Rangeley area and then descended through the forest before heading home on a long flat (mostly) stretch into Bethel.
Thanks to Steve for this shot, looking back to the north over Mooselookmeguntic Lake (yes, that is the name of the lake.)
Here we are at the first rest stop, about 35 miles into the ride. The rest stop was right beside this stream (below)
Nice spot for a rest stop.
Here is the last shot of the ride, crossing the Swift River just north of Rumford, Maine
With my energy restored from the easy day going into Rangeley and some good food over the last day, I rode hard and fast, particularly on the flats in the last twenty miles. And, as planned, I pulled into the Bethel Outdoor Adventure location just at the start of the second half and in time to see my World Cup team, Brazil, go down in flames as they lost all discipline against a great looking Dutch squad.
After the game, Maggie at the bike shop took my bike off my hands and will pack it up and send it back to New York in the next few days. There is no rush to get it to Manhattan since I’m taking off on Tuesday morning for Australia and South Africa and won’t be back home for two weeks.
One last unsolicited plug for a restaurant. Next to Bethel Outdoor Adventures is the Rooster’s Roadhouse. I wandered in totally unprepared for the great atmosphere and wonderful food. This is definitely a place I’d like to go back to for an evening someday.
Steve drove the van, as he had done a week before when he picked me up from the airport. We were joined by Way, a United Airlines mechanic who had also ridden the ride and who was flying out at 7:00 pm. We left Bethel at 4:00 pm and cruised into the airport in time and I caught my flight to New Jersey, grabbed the bus from EWR to Grand Central and was home by 9:45 pm.
Great trip! There is nothing better than having little more to do each day but ride and eat, two of my favorite things. InMotion has the formula down for offering a really wonderful, low cost cycling adventure through some outstanding parts of the world. And, it is only three weeks until I’m off again for another week of riding with the Bonton Roulet Tour from 24 July through 1 August. Can’t wait!!
Of course, I love cycling up cols and big loops in the countryside. But there is also nothing better than a long ride before getting on an airplane. I enjoy being in serious calorie-debt and then being presented with hot nuts, appetizer, main course, cheese plate, ice cream and chocolates on the plane.
Here is a shot of the Thames from the grounds of Windsor Castle, which you can see in the background of the shot below.
Out of the hotel at Heathrow Airport at 5:00 am to the astonished bemusement of the early airline crews loading into the buses. Then a fast ride out towards Henley through mostly flat countryside and small towns.
2,647 calories and almost three hours later I was back at the Sheraton Heathrow hotel (green marker in the above photo), packed and headed off for the feast from London to Chicago on United Airlines:
I love the First Class suites on the newly configured UAL planes. And, on arriving in Chicago I got a message from Pam that my flight from ORD to La Guardia had been cancelled. But, before I could even check at the transfer desk, the United Airlines Global Services representative was waiting for me in baggage claim with a sign that said, “GOREE” and she had my new boarding pass and luggage re-route slips. So easy!
Finally home now and thinking about cancelling my Switzerland trip and staying put in New York for the next two months. All of my trips for the rest of July and August are in the up-state area, first to the Finger Lakes and then to the Adirondacks. Ah, to be in the same time zone for eight weeks!
Joe was right when he said, “Beware of any race that has the word ‘challenge’ in it.” Another useful tip would be to look up both the ride profile and do a bit of research on the name of the ride.
“Chiltern” sounds so banal. I thought it might refer to town where the ride started or, perhaps, the hospital that benefitted from the fundraising associated with the ride. Little did I know that “Chiltern” referred to a famous set of hills: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chiltern_Hills So, what in the world was I thinking when I signed up to ride 100 miles of hills? If this ride had been the New York region it might be called the Catskills Challenge or something and I would have been warned off.
So, after leaving Karen and Jamie’s wedding at a reasonable hour and forsaking alcohol at the reception, I left Dorchester at 5:00 am and arrived in Henley-on-Thames in time for an 8:00 am start.
The first 30 km were not pleasant. Straight out of the Henley Rugby Club and we were heading straight up 160 meters, back down 100 meters, up and down and then up 200 meters. Yes, all in the first 30 km.
The day was hot, I was jetlagged and was living on very little sleep and when the route split, separating the 100 mile from the 100 km riders, I decided that today I would do the metric century rather than the imperial century. Good choice!
Lovely countryside, but my butt was dragging. However, in the last 30 km I ended up riding alongside of two lovely women from London and Oxford. Janine (I think) commented on my NY Cycle Club jersey and we chatted a bit.. and I asked if I could grab her wheel. She snapped back, “Just as long as you don’t grab my ass.” I said, “No maam” but was thinking that it would have been very difficult to a) catch her; b) find anything much to grab. The two of them pulled my ragged butt at about 30-35 km/hr over the last part of the ride.
The funny thing about this ride was that they had a full lunch at the second to last rest stop. I kind of like cookies, bananas and water at my rest stops and would prefer to finish the ride before having lunch. However, I guess the set-up was for a more leisurely rider who would stop, eat, digest and then get back on the road to finish.
However, the lesson learned was not to attempt a century ride that has the word “challenge” in it or at least to figure out how flat the ride is before starting.
Jamie Bellord and our ENB writer/team leader, Karen Alvarenga Oliveira, were married on 27 June 2009 at Lulworth Castle outside of Dorchester in Dorset (Thomas Hardy country in southwest England.) As usual, an international trip for business or pleasure provides an opportunity for a cycling adventure. So, I booked a First Class ticket from NY to London using my surfeit of air miles, packed up my bike and headed to the United Kingdom.
Diego Noguera, the Digital Manager on our IISD Reporting Services team, and I met up at Heathrow Airport and we drove to Dorchester, about two hours from west of London.
Karen and Jamie had instructed gentlemen to “wear morning dress”, which is something that I had never done before but relished the opportunity to go formal. With some help from the international customer service at Moss Brothers, both Diego and I rented the required attire for formal weddings held during the day in the UK. (Photo above: Lingfield morning coat with matching waistcoat and pink Creswell cravat.. winning combo.)
Here are Diego, Asheline Appleton, Alexandra Conliffe and Leonie Gordon, all friends of Karen and Jamie’s from our ENB Team.
Leonie and her absolutely adorable daughter, Elena (who fancied my top hat.)
Alex, Diego and Asheline were stunning on the most perfect of summer days in Dorset
Before picking up Asheline, Diego and Alexandra at 3:00 pm, I got in a lovely bike ride for about two hours in the Dorset countryside, just east of Dorchester.
Easy spin except for the flat that I had somewhere near Puddletown and Moreton. I’m pretty sure that the heat of the day caused the patch I had applied outside of Winnipeg to leak, particularly since the flat took place very slowly. But, I changed the tire, rode slowly on the tire only partially pumped (to avoid a pinch flat) and made it to the church on time.
(This is a ride that I did from 18-20 June 2009 and have just been too busy to get it up online)
There are few places on earth as perfect for cycling than the route from Jasper to Banff, south through the Jasper National Park into the Banff National Park in Alberta, Canada. On three days, from 19-20 June 2009, Ellis Grossnickle and I rode the distance, with help from our friend Phil Ramey, who accompanied us in Ellis’ truck.
Here are some photos from the adventure:
This trip had its inception in a conversation that I had with Aaron Cosbey, an Albertan and a colleague of mine from IISD in Winnipeg, who I had asked if he might recommend a good place to go cycling near Calgary. I was planning to be in Winnipeg for the IISD Board meetings and meetings of several of the IISD teams through 16 June and was looking for a chance to explore some of the adjacent province and ride in the Canadian Rockies. Aaron suggested riding from Jasper to just outside of Calgary and I spent a few days trying to figure out exactly how to do this without support.
I mentioned the trip to Joe Barton, who said that he would be interested in doing the trip. Our original plan was to meet up in Calgary, rent a car one way to Jasper, dropping off supplies and clean cycling clothes in Lake Louise. We would spend the first night with our vehicle about 100 km south of Jasper and, the next day, drive to Jasper to drop off the car and begin our trip back to where we spent the first night. The idea would have been to have Fedex or DHL boxes at the overnight locations and we would express our clothes home, picking up the clothes we had left “pre-positioned” on our trip north.
However, as we discussed this on Facebook, Ellis read about our plans and asked if he could come along. He was planning to be in the area with his truck and thought we might be able to share the driving and riding between the three of us. The idea of having a support vehicle, particularly in June when the weather could suddenly turn wintry, seemed like the good idea.
All was proceeding smoothly until about three weeks ago when Joe fell while descending Lincoln Gap in Vermont, separating his shoulder. Joe had to cancel but Ellis’ friend Phil volunteered to ride his motorcycle to Calgary and serve as our SAG driver for the trip.
On Wednesday, 17 June 2009, I flew in from Winnipeg and we met at the Calgary Airport, stashed my bike box at the Sheraton Four-Points outside of town, bought up some beer and drove to the Columbia Icefields Parkway Chalets to spend the first night.
DAY ONE – JASPER TO GLACIER
Early Thursday morning we left our belongings in the Chalets and drove with our bikes to Jasper for breakfast. Using our mobile phones, we went war-driving down the main street and parked at the Whistler Inn, which had a strong wi-fi signal. The waitress got us the online password and the three of us set up our laptops, checking stock prices, accessing mail and chatting with colleagues. We had to get three things filled-up… gas tank, stomachs and Internet. By 9:30 we were on the road, Ellis and I on our bikes and Phil driving the truck leap-frogging us as we headed up toward the Athabasca Glacier.
This is the first day’s map.
Unfortunately, Garmin only released at the end of the week the firmware upgrade that fixed their problems with corrupted TCX files. I had been having problems with my Edge 705 for the last month, losing ride data from some wonderful routes. It was very frustrating to find at the end of both Thursday and Friday’s rides that all of the heart rate, elevation, wattage and speed data from those days had been lost. However, after updating the firmware while i Lake Louise on Friday night, the 705 worked perfectly on Saturday. Not much to do now.
The route from Jasper to the Columbia Icefields is about 100 km and rises from just less than 1000 meters to just above 2000 meters in a rolling up and down route the mostly works upwards. After a lovely breakfast in Jasper we rode throughout the day, arriving in the mid-afternoon.
This is the shot looking west towards the Athabasca Glacier. Ellis took this shot from the parking lot of the Icefields Chalet as I was cresting the climb.
DAY TWO – GLACIER TO NORTH OF LAKE LOUISE
This is a shot of the Icefields Chalets, a great place to stay if you are cycling this route. We ran into a number of other cyclists who were doing the same route.
On day two of riding, we started after 9:00 am, following a nice breakfast and rode up to about 2200 meters before the big descent.
This is the view, looking south from the descent just south of the Athabasca Glacier. Most of the road was similar to this. As you can see from the day’s profile the day was a big descent, a gradual downhill and then some serious climbing later in the day.
By around 3:30 in the afternoon, the weather had closed in and the rain began. Since we had the vehicle, we decided that it might make more sense to head to the Post Hotel in Lake Louise and then drive back to this location (about 20 km north of our final day’s destination) the next day.
Here is Ellis packing it in for the day as the rain was beginning to fall.
Heading south into Lake Louise in the rain.
It was a good decision, as the rain began falling with some intensity as we drove for about twenty minutes to our lodging and a round of drinks by the fire in the hotel pub.
DAY THREE – NORTH OF LAKE LOUISE TO BANFF
True to our word, we loaded up the truck early on Saturday morning and back-tracked to the exact point where we had abandoned our ride on Friday afternoon when the rain hit. And, because the gods abhor hubris (and we were very proud to have traded the rain for what we thought was going to be a lovely Saturday morning) the rains started again as we drove north. In fact, we laughed when I made the comment in the truck when the rain was a light mist that, “at least we don't have a heavy rain” and suddenly the rain started falling in sheets. Very eerie.
Never underestimate the value of good intelligence. As we were getting ready for the day’s ride in the lobby of the Post Hotel, I had overheard the desk clerk speaking about the road that ran parallel to the main highway. I was sure that we would be stuck riding on the shoulder of Highway 1 with four lanes of RVs and huge trucks. However, when I spoke with the desk clerk he showed us the way to get on Bow Valley Parkway, which runs parallel to the main road and is, undoubtedly, one of the world’s best bicycling routes!
And, so, the yellow line is where we rode, starting back north of the Post Hotel in Lake Louise and Bow Valley Parkway runs along, but not too near, the highway.
After downloading the firmware update for the Garmin Edge 705, it finally started working correctly on day three of this magnificent ride. Obviously they fixed the corrupted tcx file issue (and the unit has worked flawlessly over the last two weeks since this ride.) Here is the GarminConnect.com link for the day’s ride: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/7353968
Someday, Garminconnect.com will actually finish the incorporation of the best features from Motionbased.com into their site and offer the ability to insert HTML code into blogs (one of the best motionbased.com features before they were acquired by Garmin.) But, for the time being, here is a shot of their main page. The elevation profile for the day says it all. The ride was a long, slow, gradual descent along the Bow River.
Ellis took this as I was posing with my bear whistle, which I had only blown one time for real when I had seen the black bear the day before. No bears on Day Three, although there was a grey wolf lurking by the road that Ellis spotted.
Lots of other cyclists on the road doing what must have been a lovely long climb up to Lake Louise.
Day Three was simply the most beautiful day of riding that I have had in many years. The rain cleared within the first half an hour and the day was sunny, 15 degrees and mostly all downhill for three hours of easy cycling. After two days of long climbs and many hours in the saddle, it was the perfect ride for the last day. I now understand why everyone had said that the best way to ride this route was to go from Jasper to Banff. It was not for the winds, which mostly blew from our westerly quarter, but the first day’s climb was nice and gradual, the middle day’s ascent was manageable, but the last day was pure cycling heaven.
As the Bow Valley Parkway ended, intersecting the main highway just about five kilometers north of Banff, we decided to end the ride with the memory of cycling down Bow Valley rather than semi-trailers blowing past us at 120 km/hr for the last little stretch. So, we loaded up the bikes in the truck and headed into Banff for beers and lunch at Earle’s.
Ending in Banff as a good choice and much better than my original idea of riding all the way into Calgary. That would have been a lousy extra 100 km and added four hours or more onto the ride on the shoulder of a busy highway.
We checked into the Four Points Sheraton and Ellis and Phil went off to pick up Phil’s motorcycle in town. Adventure complete and I flew home, leaving the guys to their truck/motorcycle trip through the Rockies.
Today's Cape Argus Cycletour was a tough damn day in the saddle.
Just before dawn, turning on the TV to catch a few minutes of pre-race coverage before heading to the start, the first thing I heard was, "there goes the banner." The howling wind had ripped the huge banner, which had stretched across the road over the starting line, and sent it flying out in the direction of Robbin Island where Nelson Mandela had been held prisoner. The TV announcer was asking someone to repeat something because he hadn't heard him because the roar of the wind was so loud. 55 kph winds with gusts of 60-70 kph whipped over the course and today looked like a real mess about to happen.
At the Westin's early morning breakfast for riders in the foyer off of the lobby, talk was all about the wind. Those familiar with local conditions said that the first 60 kilometers were bound to be treacherous, as the course worked it way directly into the wind blowing from the south-south east. They said that it would be particularly difficult on the roads up along mountain faces and out on the bluffs where the road would drop in and out of the wind above the coast, with the wind coming vertically up the cliffs.
We gathered in our pens and my group started just about five minutes late. The first groups that had been scheduled to leave just after 0600 were delayed as they had to move the starting line into the lee of a big building. Yes, it was really, really windy.
The first few kilometers, climbing up Hospital Hill, was slow. Riders were being blown sideways, particularly coming in and out from behind buildings and everyone was moving carefully. Finally, as the race turned directly south and on the closed motorway, things picked up. Huge groups formed and everyone was looking for some big, fast guy to drop in behind. Moving at 30-35 kph with a 55 kmp wind meant that you either sat in a slipstream or sat still. I was thanking John Tsang at Conrad's Bike Shop in Manhattan for suggesting that new Dura Ace 7950 compact crank, since I did not want to get out of the saddle while going up the big hills, exposing more of my body to the blow. Today was a day to hang out in the drops, hugging the top tube and close to some guy's back wheel. Seriously.
At about twenty kilometers one of those big guys braked hard and I braked hard, going all the way up on to my front wheel before avoiding the peleton slowing for someone who had been blown into another rider. The sudden stop had somehow left my rear brake rubbing on the wheel and I pulled off to the side to free the wheel. Stepping off of the bike I got blown by the wind and lost my balance, dropping the bike and pulling a muscle in my groin. Going from 90 rpm, 275 watts and 165 bpm at 35 kph to a stop and handling the bike, I just don't think that my body anticipated the lateral movement.
It was no big deal at the time and I didn't notice it much. I was back on the bike in a few seconds and racing down the road. But, something was happening to a muscle that runs from the inside of my groin up into my hip and riding was not making it any better. Was it something ripped and micro-bleeding? Was it just pulled or torn and starting to stiffen up? I'm not sure, but I held with the pack all the way down the coast, climbing up along some really wild cliffs and past the beach. Several times the groupette that I was in was blasted by sand, everyone yelping at the same time as these little glassine projectiles scoured legs, arms and cheeks.
It was at the most southern and most windward part of the race, climbing a pretty steep grade into gale winds that I jumped out of the saddle and really pulled hard on my right pedal and felt the pain. It was one of those, "this is really not good" kind of pain. So, I upped my rpms by changing into higher gears and tried to keep my cadence high but it didn't relieve the pain. That climb from 46-50 km hits the windward mark and, if we were in a sailboat, would have been the time to pop the spinnaker for a downwind run. I gutted out the climb and rode downhill from 50 to 55 km, where I stopped at aid station and went to the physio tent. One of the therapists laid me down and put a thumb into the area I indicated. She felt the muscle and said, "is this it?" As she pushed, I gasped. Yep, there was certainly something wrong.
My thinking at the time was that I needed to get back on the bike and keep riding before it stiffened up. Little did I know it was too late. So, I rode, mostly one legged, for another five kilometers till I got to the next aid station where I found the race marshal and officially abandoned. There was no way that I was going to be able to do an additional 40 kilometers, riding up through Chapman's Peak, with one leg. So, they gave me two analgesic tables and a bratwurst and I waited for the sweep vehicle to come by for a ride to the finish.
Today was not how I had envisioned it over the last few months. I hadn't come half way around the world to abandon and have felt pretty discouraged. But there is not much I can do, but use it as a good, fast 58 km training ride, an opportunity to get a good lesson that didn't cost me money or blood, and hope that I can get back on my bike soon.
The totals, for better or worse. 58.66 km in 2:38. Hills and headwinds. Pity I didn't get a chance to ride those southerlies to the finish.
The Argus Cycle Tour is the biggest timed bicycle race in the world and one of the greatest events each year on the international cycling calendar. Basically unknown in the US, the race attracts riders from throughout Europe, a large number of expatriate riders in the middle east and tons of Aussies and Kiwis. However, this is, by and large, a national event and a South African "rite of passage." Last year, after the race, I saw an article about South African corporate executives posting their Argus time, comparing executives' times across organizations. Cycling is big in South Africa and this is their biggest event.
I've come in for business meetings, which I held yesterday and have the weekend free for the race. Then, after taking Monday off to recover, I'm heading to Germany and the Netherlands for fundraising events. But, for today and tomorrow, I'm just one of the 39,000 riders starting the 110 km race on Sunday morning.
Last year, in a fast, hot ride, I'd managed to finish the 108 km route in 3 hours and 33 minutes, which earned me a nice seeding in this year's event. Since this is a timed event, they can't have everyone starting at the same time, but thanks to RFID technology each rider has his or her own timing chip and they can send off the riders in several dozen groups, beginning at dawn.
So, the riders are released from pens into the starting area in big groups. Here is a picture of some of the workers erecting the pens today near the starting area. And this is the starting area around mid-day on Saturday. By tonight this will be ready to go for the first (and fastest) riders in the professional seeded groups. The Giro goes out at 0615, the licensed riders in groups that start at 0620, 0625 and on until 0636. Our "pen" starts at 0718 and I'm about in about the first third of the seeded groups. Then the other pens full of cyclists are released until almost 1000.
Today was registration pick-up and the huge cycle fair, with both international vendors but some national vendors with cool products not available outside of the country.
So, this morning I went on a quick tune-up ride. It was quick (only an hour) because I was heading along down the coastline when that awful sound started. It was a pop and then a spinning whistle, and since I was riding with some other cyclists, I hoped that it was not me. But, it was my flat tire and I pulled off to the side of the road to deal with it.
It was a stupid pinch flat and was my own dumb fault for not putting enough air in my tires. I should have used that hand pump to get them up above 100 psi, but I figured that nothing would happen. Well, that was enough to anger the flat tire gods. They are fickle. They are vigilant and they abhor hubris. Just when you think that you are somehow better than the flat tire gods and tempt them, by going out without a tube, without a pump, without a patch kit, or without enough air in your tires, they will give you a flat.
So, I have publicly made my peace with the flat gods, purchased a new tube and will ride tomorrow with a spare tube, a patch kit, a can of compressed air and a pump. I will pump up my tires. I promise. So, please, NO FLATS.
Tomorrow, I'll be roaring up this coast with the finish line in sight. But, starting at 0718, as the doctor might say, "the following procedure will involve some minor discomfort."
I think that any 123 km (76.5 mile) ride is a good ride, but it is even better just before getting on an airplane for a long, long set of flights. Although longer than I had hoped for today, I have made it back to the hotel in time to get my business done, inhale some food and pack for the airport.
My plan for today was to ride, as close as possible, to the actual Cape Argus Classic route. The first third of the route is done on race day on closed highways, which made for some improvisation. Richard Sherman helped me with my navigation and said just to head through Woodstock and stay on Main Road, which runs through Mowbray, Wynberg and The Dell before joining up with the usual Argus route in Lakeside. 18 degrees at 0630, it climbed steadily through the 20s as I rode south through Muizenberg and Simon's Town. The picture above is shot looking north from around Murdoch Valley, up to Simon's Town. These are all places that I had ridden through at full blast during last year's Cape Argus Classic race, and had wished that I could stop, look around, take pictures and search the rocks for beached seals. This time, I did!
Several cyclists who I met along the ride warned me that the really spectacular route along the western coast through Chapman's Peak, which winds up high on the cliffs above the ocean, was closed. The only route north along the coast required a long detour with two sharp climbs.
While riding towards the northwest between the eastern shoreline and Scarborough, I met a South African rider, who gave me the detour instructions and said that this was probably going to be part of the detour route for the Argus in 2009 if "Chappy's" does not re-open in time for the Tour. As we were riding along, I saw what looked like a pile of brown boulders sitting on the roadside ahead. Remembering the Tacx Fortius RLV video for indoor training, there had been some simian looking animals that lumbered across the road during the filming. I asked the other rider what they were and he said that there were always baboons sitting by the road at this spot. Indeed, there was a whole troop of Cape Baboons sitting by the road, looking like they were waiting for a handout from passing cars. A little further up the road there was a sign:
It just seems very South African that they might put a Springbok on the sign, but label it "Baboons" since they probably didn't have any signs with baboons on them. It is a country of some glaring but unmentioned contradictions.
On the ride profile, you can see the two long climbs in the middle of the day. When I got to the Chapman's Peak turnoff, there was a big signed that warned, CLOSED. So, I went up and over Ou Kaapse Weg (Silvermine Road) and then went through Constantia before crossing back over the mountains to Hout Bay.
As on the day before, I stopped at a little roadside stand to get a Boerewors on a roll and a real Coke. This is the best South African fast food, particularly with a large dollop of Chutney spread across the top.
So, the totals for the day's ride were 5:24 total moving time, 1825 meters of vertical climbing over 123.07 km. Lots of stopping and starts, some lazy climbs in the head, with a temperature that went from 18 up to a high of 25 degrees.
