I love riding to Julian.  I’ve been there 3 times in the last month.  At around 85 miles with over 7,000 feet of elevation gain, it’s a really hard course for me and I always suffer in the last 10 or 20 miles. I keep going back for more because Suffering and I are in a committed relationship.  

I met Rob at the intersection of Poway Rd. and Pomerado and we rolled east toward the hills and apple pie country at a moderate pace.  We climbed Poway grade easily and got passed by one rider.  Rob made it clear that if he was going to make it to Julian that day he’d need protection and lots of it - no worries since I regularly ride to Julian by myself.  He tucked into my slipstream and we made our way steadily uphill.

A few miles before Santa Ysabel we got passed by three riders on tri-bikes at “ludicrous speed”.  We caught up with them later at the General Store in Santa Ysabel, it was none other than Normann Stadler, two-time winner of the Kona Ironman, out for a leisurely 130-mile training ride.  We joked with him about how much faster he was riding than us and he said, “When you ride for fun, you can go langsam.  When you ride for money, you must go schnell.”  He’s German, of course (langsam=slow, schnell=fast).

The chapparal of coastal San Diego became dry scrub oak of the coastal foothills.  The oaks got bigger as we got higher.  Soon, we were seeing the occasional pine tree as we approached Julian.  

We arrived at the pie shop without incident and enjoyed some tourists oogling over our bikes and being amazed that we came all the way from the coast for some pie.  We got our picture taken by a girl who then giggled to her friends, “I touched an iPhone! I touched an iPhone!”.  The pie shop that Sunday was interesting to say the least.

Then we saddled up and headed for home.  Lot’s of excitement down Wynola Road - 35mph with tight corners on a *mostly* deserted road.  Zoomed downhill to Santa Ysabel where Suffering was patiently waiting for our rendevouz.

Funny enough, I don’t have many problems climbing the 5,000 feet into Julian.  It’s climbing and it feels great.  It’s on those final hills, especially climbing out of Ramona and back into Scripps Ranch where Suffering and I begin to really talk.

With Rob tucked in and a steady pace set, we made our way back to the coast.  My thoughts shifted quietly from how well the ride was going to how nice it’ll be to take a shower, have a beer or just lay on my back in the yard and pretend I’m Tom Simpson.

I waved goodbye to Rob and began pedalling the final miles to home, up Pomerado hill.  Suffering was there with me the whole way, keeping me company, always a conversation to keep my mind busy.  It’s impossible to ignore Suffering, one must just accept it and enjoy the conversation as much as possible. 

Pie!, originally uploaded by Arlyn Asch.

Pie is always good.

It was raining as we approached the intersection of Dye Road and Hwy 67 in Ramona.  I didn’t mind the rain really, I found it refreshing on such a humid day.  And it wasn’t raining that much, just enough of a sprinkle to keep everything shiny.

I was on ‘Alpha’ Dave Voris’s wheel and he was pulling me up to the leaders as we slowed for the right turn onto Dye Road.  I was all on fire inside, ready to attack.  Guido was ahead of me and he was the one I needed to gap without warning.  If he caught my wheel as I went by I’d never lose him.

The plan (inspired by Voris) was for me to attack the nine-man Descender peloton on Dye Road and see how long I could stay away.  Dye Road is a 3-4 mile flat stretch of back country road where we like to get into a tight paceline and go as fast as we can.  It would be really challenging for a single rider to try and stay away for the entire stretch of road.  My legs weren’t completely fresh after a mad dash to the coast on Thursday and I don’t consider myself to be very good at time-trialing on long flat roads either.  So it was a perfect challenge, just the kind I like, one with slim chances for success.

Just as Guido and Jeff sat up to regroup, I took off at full speed. Dye Road is long enough (3 or 4 miles) that I had to beware of burning out early.  I got in the drops and hammered a fast tempo that felt hard but not unsustainable.  I watched as my HRM went to 101% (more on that in another post).  At first I told myself not to look back, but then I did.  I had gapped the peloton by about 150m and Guido was in the middle fighting his way up to me.  I just focused on maintaining my rhythm.

After a few minutes I looked back again and Guido was only about 10 feet behind me, just about to get into my slipstream - crap!  I jinked left to break up the draft and pushed it to 103%.  I thought, “If he gets on my wheel now, I’m done!”.  I put my head down and gave it everything I had.  When I looked back again, Guido was well off my wheel, headed back for the peloton.  Whew!  I relaxed a little and let my HR go back to 99%.

I began to realize that I might just be able to stay away.  I was about a mile from the finish and it didn’t look like the peloton was going to pull me back.  I focused on high cadence and keeping my rhythm solid.  I looked back again with about a quarter mile to go and Guido was trying to come across again!  I hammered it for everything I had one last time, trying to ignore the screaming in my legs and managed to stay away.

I stopped at the light at the end of Dye Road and waited for the rest of the group.  Both Guido and I were exhausted and I congratulated him and thanked him for chasing me so hard and forcing me to accomplish something that I didn’t think I could do.

The caveat in this adventure is that I didn’t let the Descenders regroup on Dye Road before attacking so they were strung out when I went and not expecting any aggression.  So, the real trick (maybe for next week?) would be to get onto Dye Rd, let the peloton regroup and then attack and stay away.  I wonder if that’s possible?

I have a hard time making it to Julian.  I’ve been turned around by weather, I’ve mega-bonked on the way home and been just plain-old, “I don’t have the legs and wont try”.  In fact, the only time I’ve had a really enjoyable time getting to Julian and back was on a midweek ride with Mike. Mike and I set out to replicate our success yesterday morning.  He’s training for L’Etape in a few weeks and was looking for lots of miles at a reasonably slow pace.

With my poor success record for getting to Julian and back home, I’ve built up some fear around attempting it.  It’s my nemesis ride.  My goal for the day was to dispel the demons and make Julian mine.

The road to Julian is difficult.  First, it’s uphill most of the way there.  But it’s not like climbing a mountain, where you can get into a rhythm and pedal for an hour or two, it constantly changes up, so you’ve got to keep changing riding styles and the downhill return trip is something you have to work at rather than just coast through.  It’s also a long course - at least 86 miles round trip from my house to Julian, which is a big ride for me.  And this time, Mike and I resolved to add Highland Valley Road into the mix on the way back for extra fun and miles.  Here’s the elevation profile for the day.

We took the pace slow and steady on a gorgeous SoCal morning.  Sheehan joined us for the early part of the ride out Poway Rd and through Ramona.  He did a really great job with some long pulls at the front that I think ended up making a big difference to both Mike and I. Unfortunately, his calendar had him turn back before the end of Old Julian Hwy.

Heading through the backcountry east of San Diego is always amazing.  I think that I live in an urban area, but within a few minutes, I can be pedalling through rural farmland and past ranches with grazing cattle and horses.  It was a beautiful morning.

We climbed out of Santa Ysabel and were soon on Wynola Rd, one of the prettiest mountain roads around and a terrific descent on the way home.  In no time, we were enjoying apple pie.

I’m not so sure that wolfing down a big piece of pie is really the best way prepare for the 50-mile return trip, so I just had a few bites.  The pie was good as usual though.  Afterwards, we stretched out, refilled or bottles and headed down the hill.  Wynola road was a lot of fun.  I’m remembering the corners and getting to be a better descender.  In no time, we were flashing back through Santa Ysabel, headed home.

Mike was feeling a bit knackered so I took the lead to help him for the flat and uphill portions.  I was more than happy to take the wind as Mike has helped me get home on several occasions.  It was also a great workout and knowing that Mike needed my help to get home was motivation to keep my tempo high and not slack off.

And even though I was starting to get tired by the time we got back to Ramona, we added the Highland Valley Road loop.  It was hot, our bottles were empty and Mike knew where to find a hose bib.  We stopped by the side of the road and showered off - wow that felt good!  I had been 5 hours in the saddle by then and that cool, fresh water felt amazing.  With full bottles and a rejuvenated spirit, we zoomed down HVR - a favorite descent for the Descenders because of the fast and twisty roads.

Back on the flat, headed for home, Mike pointed out that if I could find a few extra miles, I had a century day possible (100+ miles).  I had just popped my final GU and this seemed like a great idea.  The only real problem was that there are very few flat roads in Scripps Ranch on which to get “free miles”.  Nevertheless, as Mike and I parted, I kept an eye on the odometer and decided to add a couple of little loops that should put me over the 100-mile mark.  That’s when the final GU wore off and it started to hurt :)  But I was resolute and accepted the suffering and the extra miles.  I arrived home with my odometer reading 100.9 miles.

It had been a really hard day, but I felt good.  Ok, my body hurt (a lot), but my spirit felt good.  I made it to Julian and back on a really tough day.  One hundred miles for pie.

I told Dave on the drive out, “If I don’t have good legs today, I just don’t have good legs.”

After spending the week in recovery mode (which makes me crazy), I was very much looking forward to testing myself on Palomar Mountain this morning.  We choose a short course that allows us to maximize our effort towards climbing.  Here’s the profile:

It was hot, hot, hot in the valley (eventually 105 F when we came back down), but got cooler as we gained altitude.  Once the climb began, I put myself on the front of a group with Voris and Rick, set my HR at 90% max, put my head down and climbed.  I was looking to do a repeat performance of how I climbed to Whitney Portal a couple of weeks ago.

Palomar is nowhere as steep as Whitney (7% compared to 11% for Mt. Whitney) so I was able to keep my cadence high and even shifted up a few times when it eased off a bit.  We climbed and climbed and it got cooler the higher we got.

Dozens of motorcyclists buzzed past us, up and down the mountain.  Palomar, with 12 miles of very sharp turns through an oak/pine forest, is a very popular destination for these guys (and gals), who like to see how fast they can take the corners.  We passed at least two motorbikes that had crashed and I wonder how many bikes go down here every weekend.  The paramedics were on the scene at one incident, in the other, just the motorbike was broken.

For much of the climb, I was on the front, setting the pace for Voris and Rick.  About 2/3 the way up, Voris came around and slowly built up a small gap.  The gap began increasing.  My HR was still right around 90% max and it seemed the prudent thing would be to let Dave go.  But I’m not very prudent.  The gap got a little larger and I thought, “Maybe if I just give it a few good kicks, I could close it down and hang on Dave’s wheel.”  So I gave it some gas and closed the gap pretty easily, but as soon as I settled on his wheel I was gapped again!  And now I was in debt from chasing him down so this time I really did let him go rather than risk a bonk.  Dave is very, very strong.  It’s a mistake to compare your performance to another rider on a long, hard road like Palomar - it’s too easy to blow up.  You just have to ride your own pace, and that’s what I did.

I got to the yield sign in 1:26:37 which beats my previous time up by a little more than a minute, which I think was good.  I ended up only losing 1:37 to Voris, and that’s good too, especially given how strong he is.

We stopped at the store to refill bottles and regroup then headed out to the observatory.  I was still feeling pretty good and again I pegged my HR right at 90% and took off.  Mike was along today and not feeling super strong so he and Voris pootled their way up together.  Rick decided to put the hammer down.  He was gone up the road in seconds.  A few minutes later I passed him, he had a flat and was just starting the repair.  Maybe 5 minutes later, he passes me again.  That guy is amazing.

On the way back from the observatory, on the little climb back to the store, I was feeling kinda froggy and jumped off the front.  Voris went with me and I tried to taunt him a little, hoping maybe I could find even the smallest chink in his wall of uber-performance.  No such luck, he laughed me off and dropped me.  Doh.  Did I mention he’s very strong?

Then it was time for fun, we began the 12 mile descent.  Twisty, turny and super fast.  Really good road surfaces and I’ve done it a few times now so I recognize some corners.  I managed to stay with the group on the descent and rather enjoyed myself.  Very little brakes except in the tight corners.

We got back to the team van Jim pulls out a jar of ice-cold dill pickles, just like on our Monster Climbs trip!  Awesome.  We put the gear away, changed into swimsuits and jumped into the pool - we had parked at a condo complex in Valley Center which has a beautiful pool.  You gotta imagine what it felt like - legs aching from 6,000 feet of climbing, 105 degree heat and then jump into a clear, cool pool.  If we had more beer, we could have made it a party

Oh btw, Mike is back - he’s been traveling a lot and even had to miss the Monster Climbs trip.  It was nice having you back today Mike.

Coming off the tremendous high from last week’s Monster Climbs adventure, I was ready for long, hard rides this week.  Unfortunately, my legs are not.  I’m surprised at how long it’s taking for me to recover my A-game after the grueling punishment of last weekend.

I went out Monday for 20 miles of high-RPM / low-HR spinning around the lake and was sore and tired by the time I got home.  On Wednesday, I took my bike down to Torrey Pines for 40 miles and really suffered climbing the last few miles back into Scripps Ranch.

We had Julian on the menu for this week’s Descenders ride and I really babied my effort on the way out.  I was the last one up Poway Rd, last up to Ramona, didn’t push it very hard on Dye Rd and was last to the top of Old Julian Hwy too.  But conserving my energy didn’t leave me feeling very sprightly either.  It was starting to hurt and I wasn’t feeling very happy about continuing on to Santa Ysabel and Julian.  There was a suffer-fest waiting for me down the road.

When riding in a big group of guys, not wanting to look like a wiener, it can be tough to tell everyone you don’t have the legs and are turning around for home.  I went through the whole story in my head while climbing Old Julian Hwy and resolved to bail out.  When I got to the top, everyone circled around and pointed back to home - they wanted to cut it short too!  Right on!

The best part of cutting the ride short was that I no longer had to conserve my energy in “survival” mode, I could cut it up a bit and be sporty with the guys.  So, I took off back down Old Julian Hwy, putting in enough of a dig to get the attention of the boys who came flying after me.  Old Julian Hwy trends downhill so attack speeds are 30-40 mph, but there are some up-kicks in there that make you really work to stay ahead.  We traded leads down the mountain in a fast, exciting line.  I barely out sprinted Guido at the end, when the road take a right back to town.

On the team paceline back through Ramona, Guido and I talked about attacking Voris, just to tweak his shorts a little.  We waited until near the end of Dye Rd.  When Voris was trapped in the go-back line behind Sheehan, Guido and I took off and gapped the group.  Maybe it wasn’t such a big gap, but it was fun doing  the planning and execution.

And because we didn’t use up all our energy getting to Julian, we took Highland Valley Road home, as a special treat.  HVR is a favorite of the Descenders and we hammered it even though we all told each other that we’d have a nice slow pace home.  I’m starting to get good at this descending thing, although I pale in comparison to Guido and Sheehan who are absolute rocketmen.

At the end of the day, I’d racked 70 miles and had much, much more fun than if I’d suffered to Julian on B-game legs.  Some time you just have to say ‘No’ to pie

Impossible. It’s just not possible to ride my bike 140 miles over 4 of the top 10 climbs in the US for a total of 23,000 feet of elevation gain in just three days. That’s over 4 MILES of vertical gain! Impossible.

Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing.

- cheesy Adidas ad that I absolutely love

When I was invited to join the Descenders on their annual Monster Climbs trip I accepted immediately. This was just the kind of crazy stunt I needed to get me in shape for France. And at some point, climbing 23,000 feet in the eastern Sierra mountains became possible.

Day 1 - Onion Valley

Ten Descenders began the adventure on Friday morning, loading bikes and gear in cars and heading northbound on I-15 and then Hwy 395 to Lone Pine. The 4.5 hour drive seemed over before it began and soon I was kitting up, preparing for the first Monster, Onion Valley. This first climb was designed as a warm up for the group since we’d spent the day driving from sea level up to 4,000 feet. The road to Onion Valley is only 13 miles long and gains 5,000 feet of elevation up a series of switchbacks.

I was a bundle of nerves and doubts as the ten of us started out. There was a very brisk wind driving out of the NW and we we’re all being very cavalier about it, like “It’s just air!”. If this was a typical Saturday ride we might have cut it short or bailed completely, but we had just driven all day to get here - we could not quit.

Heading up the alluvial fan, I quickly found myself in my lowest gear (34×27) and began a ritual that would haunt me all weekend: double-checking that I was really in my lowest gear. I cannot count how many times I pressed those gear levers, hoping that a magical 11th gear would spontaneously generate itself. It never did, but I never stopped checking either.

I put myself in a small group with Voris and decided to pace with him to the top. No funny-business mind you, I was very intimidated by the steepness of the road and the 25+ mph wind only made things much harder. Because of the wind, the switchbacks alternated between being just steep and hard to being fairly ridiculous. Imagine being bent over your bars, in a paceline going a mere 4.5 mph turning 42 rpm on your smallest gear.

It got down to just Voris, Boyle and myself with Rick and Drew way up the road. Both Rick and Drew are supermen. They like riding with us, but when the fancy catches them, they just go up the road in the kind of style you might find at the Tour de France. Voris, Boyle and I summited together and I snapped this photo to prove I actually made it.

It was then that I realized I am a bit of a stubborn jackass. It was only around 60F and getting colder by the minute. I was soaking with sweat and with the wind howling, it was damn shivery. Everyone had said it was cold on top and to bring your jacket and arm/leg warmers. But standing at the bottom of the climb in 98F heat, it’s hard to understand and rather than trust the people who’ve done the climb before, I elected to save the 2.5oz of cold weather gear, leaving them in the van. That was the last time I made that mistake.

As soon as I started shivering on top I knew I had to descend to warmer climate. Go back and look at that photo of the switchbacks again. Imagine you’re freezing cold and absolutely flying down the steep, narrow road which has been pocked with gravel and rocks and split by heat-expansion cracks. When the wind has your back, it’s all you can do to keep your speed under 40 mph. When you come to a turn, the wind whips around and tries as hard as it can to shove you off the road. My hands ached from braking and I worried seriously about getting a flat from overheating my rims. Lower on the mountain, after the switchbacks, I began to warm up again and thought I was good. But the wind was still too random, jumping out at me like a linebacker. I’ve never steered and leaned so hard right and still gone left before. It was truly amazing. There is an unsubstantiated report of an unnamed Descender managing to record a top speed of 62mph on the descent - yikes! (Mom, it wasn’t me, I promise).

Here’s the elevation profile for Onion Valley - it’s an isosceles triangle

Once we all arrived back at the cars safely, the elation for what we had accomplished set in. We sped back to the motel in Lone Pine for beer, pizza and to watch Tour de France DVDs. Watching Lance crush the peloton up Alpe d’Huez is great motivation.

Keep reading: Day 2 - Horseshoe Meadow and Mt. Whitney Portal

Back to: Day 1 - Onion Valley

Day 2 - Horseshoe Meadow and Mt. Whitney Portal

The wind howled all night long. In the morning, it was still going and I was nervous at breakfast. Today was a big day - we’d climb two beasts for over 11,000 feet of elevation gain in just 65 miles. There was talk of 10% grades for miles on the way to Mt. Whitney portal. I wolfed down a huge bowl of oatmeal, two rubbery hardboiled eggs, and a bunch of juice. The plan was to ride from the motel so we could get a tour of the Alabama Hills as a warm up approach to Horseshoe Meadow Road. The Alabama hills remind me a lot of Joshua Tree - I’m not sure the geology, but it must be very similar composition. I could almost hear the sound of carabiners snapping and rock climbers calling, “On belay!” as we wheedled up a twisty road between the huge boulders.

The best part of the warm up was that the wind was on our backs. We rode easy, pushed up the gentle inclines by the breeze to the base of Horseshoe Meadow Road. The photo below shows the climb in all it’s glory, although it’s important to note that after the last switchback there still remains 3 more miles of steady climbing.

Now why in hell did someone build a road up the side of this cliff? Who looked at that mountain and said to themselves, “Now that’s a great place to build a road!”. The scale of the image is a little deceiving, the first switchback at the bottom is over 2 miles long! Apparently this road was built in three stages over several years - they wanted the road up there that badly! All I can say is, “Thank you! thank you! thank you for all your hard work!”

Once on the meat of the climb, I found Voris and we paced each other to the top. The wind had died down somewhere on the first switchback so we avoided the headwinds like on Onion Valley. As usual, Rick and Drew went off the front and arrived at the faux-summit first. I say ‘faux-summit’ because there is a high point 3 miles short of the actual summit where we re-grouped. You can see it on the elevation profile below. Rob did a super job staying with Drew and Rick for awhile and he ended up arriving third, but you can’t really count Drew and Rick so Rob was first of the ‘B’ squad. Voris and I measured ourselves to the first peak and had a really enjoyable climb. We weren’t pushing so hard that we couldn’t talk and it was really nice to have someone to share the scenery and adventure with.

Here’s a view looking south from the second northbound switchback. Just incredible. It had turned into a really spectacular day now that the winds had calmed. Perfect climbing weather.

Voris and I finally got to the faux-summit where Rick, Drew and Rob were waiting. We left Rob behind to sunbathe a little and we sped down the short 1-mile descent for the last two miles of climbing. It was uneventful and soon we were at Horseshoe Meadow.

It was great being in the mountains again, especially the eastern Sierra. The weather on top was perfect - sunny with still, crisp air and about 75F. I was really feeling a lot of love for the mountains as we made our way back to Rob and the rest of the team.

After a bit of a rest we headed down the mountain. Without the winds it was a pretty fun descent. I don’t have the experience descending that many of the other guys do so I hung back and took my time. After awhile I started to get a feel for the cornering and was able to get my speed up above 40 mph in some stretches.

We re-grouped a little when we hit the flats with the idea that we’d work together against the wind over to the support car. We’d parked a car between Horseshoe and Whitney Portal Rd so we could take a break between climbs and re-supply our bottles and gels. But there was no wind to fight. It felt really good to be on flatter ground again and I hammered it, trying to get a little sporty group going. Jim was up for it and Voris stayed with us, but wasn’t super keen on expending energy at this point - we still had another 3,750 feet of elevation to gain. I was feeling great - you know how some days you just can’t help but go fast? I was having one of those.

We stopped for lunch and Jim pulls out this jar of ice-cold dill pickles, maybe it was the heat in the valley or our salt depleted states, but that pickle was the best pickle I ever had. I’ll bet that jar was empty in less than 30 seconds. A new Descender tradition was born. Pickles!

Some of you may know me as a bit of a competitive guy. You’re probably not surprised to learn that I had been thinking a little bit about where the perfect place would be for me to attack. I was looking to distinguish myself on a significant climb, call it a ’stage win’ if you will. The key thing to understand is that I wanted to prove something to myself, not anyone else. I wanted to know if I had it in me to accomplish something special. Am I really good enough, strong enough to ride away from the group and go all the way to the top of something nasty? There were four Monsters to climb this weekend. Attacking on the first or the second would be dumb cause you still have to climb the last two. And attacking on the last climb of the trip was dangerous cause I couldn’t predict what my form would be like on the last day, or anyone else’s for that matter. I would attack on the third climb, to Mt. Whitney Portal.

The road to Whitney Portal is only about 9 miles long, but it rises 3,700+ feet to around 8,300 with consistently steep grades the whole way. It’s something like 9-10% for the entire climb, which really is ridiculous. We’d already done Horseshoe so this would be a real achievement. It would also mirror almost exactly what I will do in France - on the first day I’ll do Alpe d’Huez, on the second I’ll do a little bit of the Galibier, the Col de la Croix de Fer and finally Alpe d’Huez again. And I want to do well on Huez the second time.

So after lunch, the Descenders got back on the road headed towards the portal. I rode to the front where Voris and Jim were, plugged in my iPod and selected the live Dave Matthews album I’ve been listening to for months. I put in both earbuds, cranked the volume and increased my tempo until my heart rate monitor said 90%. I knew from experience that I could hold 90% for at least an hour and a half - just enough time to get to the top.

I looked down and Voris was following me. Then he was off and chasing. Then I didn’t see him anymore. I didn’t see anyone anymore. I was alone, off the front and blasting away at 90% HR. You know, it kinda hurts to go that hard.

“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”

- Lance Armstrong

I was heading up 10% grades, the Owens Valley opening up off the side of the switchback and Whitney Portal getting ever so slowly closer at about 6 mph. I wanted to quit. That little “voice” in my head did at least. We had an ongoing conversation that went like this:

The Voice: Sit up and wait for Voris, you can work together.

My Heart: I’m not stopping. I can do this.

The Voice: They are going to catch you anyways.

My Heart: Nope, I won’t let them.

The Voice: This hurts, slow down.

My Heart: You can’t make me. You’re not me.

Up and up I went. I’ve never been to Whitney Portal before so all I had to measure my progress was the mileage. I looked back down the switchbacks at one point and didn’t see anyone behind me. I was really going to do this. Where was Rick and Drew? Them being supermen and all, I had already decided that it didn’t count against my goal if they passed me, but I didn’t see anyone. I sucked down gels and drink without abandon and pedaled hard. All that mattered was getting to the top first.

Up ahead, there was a sign. It was the entrance sign to Whitney Portal. “Holy crap, I did it! I’m here first. There’s no one anywhere! Just me and my bike. I did it! I won.” I stopped by the sign and got off my bike, intending to take a picture and just laid my head down on my saddle. All of a sudden it really hit me what I did and I closed my eyes and had a little “moment”. A hiker nearby was giving me strange looks, but I didn’t much care. Finally, I got myself together, took the photo and realized it’s still another mile and 500 feet up to the end of the road

It was a hard final mile, but I was elated. I pulled up to the snack bar at the top, found a chair in the sunshine and waited for the rest of the team. Drew and Rick were just 3-5 minutes behind me, but had stopped to fix a flat. Then the rest of the team came in, one at a time and I’m not exactly sure of the order. Voris, Boyle, Rob and Guido. Seven of the ten Descenders had made it to the portal, climbing over 11,000 feet in a single day. It was a huge team accomplishment and we all knew it. We sat together, soaking up the sun, enjoying it and not really wanting to go down. Whitney Portal sits in a pine forest with a little lake, surrounded by shining white granite that reminded me of Yosemite Valley. It was really cool sitting there, the seven of us all decked out in Descenders jerseys while tourists eyeballed us and asked, “Did you really ride your bikes up here?”

Finally we decided it was time to go. We saddled up and sped down the mountain, this time I even enjoyed the speed and the sharp turns (I was careful, Mom). We hammered back to town and soon I was laying by the pool with a cold beer in hand. Here’s my elevation profile for the day.

Went out to dinner and had a humongous double cheeseburger with pretty much everything on it. Back to the rooms to watch Lance hammer the 2002 Tour de France again and then early to bed. I was tired, really tired.

Keep reading: Day 3 - Bristlecone Forest

Back to: Day 2 - Horseshoe Meadow and Mt. Whitney Portal

Alarm goes off at 6:30am, but I’m really already awake. My legs are sore. I get up and head over for oatmeal and juice. I don’t really want to choke down another rubber egg, but I do anyways cause it’s good for me. I reward myself with a toaster waffle and head back to the room to stretch and kit up.

It’s a 45 minute drive to Big Pine and the start of our final Monster - climbing to Bristlecone Forest. Looking out the window at the Sierra, I was filled with glory for the mountains.

The climb to Bristlecone Forest is a real doozy. It’s 23 miles long and gains well over 6,000 feet before topping out above 10,000 feet. As Voris put it the night before, it starts out steep and only gets worse. I think this sign best sums it up.

The lower part of the Bristlecone is a really pitchy and twisty. We tried to memorize the corners for the descent and even kicked a few rocks out of the way to make it safer later on. I was really hurting. My legs were sore from the previous day’s adventure and I was waiting for my form to catch back up to me. My heart felt good and I was confident that good form would find me farther up the road. So I hung out in the back of the group and gobbled down GU like it was going out of style.

I almost forgot to tell you about the town signs. You know I like to sprint for town sign “points” and this trip was no different. I added National Forest signs to the list and jumped out every time I saw one. At first, no one really followed me - I’m not sure you even call it sprinting on a 12% grade with the pack going 4 mph. On the second day, Jim (our resident Ciclamino jersey wearer) started going for them too, much to my chagrin since he wins most of the ones he goes for. My strength is that I usually notice the sign first and get it sneakily. So as we neared the halfway point to Bristlecone the group decided there was a point at the support car (which we had dropped off for lunch/refill). Jim looks at me and I know it’s over. But I still have to try, right? I know I can’t get him on a short course, but maybe I can go long and he’ll fade. I take off way too early and he’s right there with me. I keep waiting for him to fade, but he doesn’t. Then he looks over at me and I can tell I am wasting my time. I sit up and he nabs the point. Those fast guys can really get under your skin

After lunch, the group toodles together along a flat section rewarming our legs in preparation for the final 3,000 feet of climbing. Voris has been complaining all morning about his knee and I’ve lectured him on how long it can take to heal a tendon or ligament injury. He’s taken meds and rubbed blue gel on his knee and had even iced it in the car on the drive over. But when he gets a little ahead of the pack I pop up there cause you still never know, right? I ask him, “Hey, are you on a 9 mile breakaway or something?” and he replies, “No, I just want to spin and warm up my knee after stopping for lunch”. Alright, I wait up for the pack… and didn’t see him again until the summit! Apparently his knee felt better and off he went. Congrats to Voris, he ended up topping out just behind Drew.

It’s probably best that I didn’t try to stay with Voris because I did not have the legs. Once back on the climb proper, Boyle got a little ahead of me and I tried to catch him. I worked hard but the gap seemed to just get wider. I tried to power through the steep inside part of each switchback turn in an effort to gain some distance, but he went farther and farther away. Pretty soon my chase developed into survival mode. The situation was devolving into suffering. I turned over the cranks as best I could and when my legs refused, I ordered them on some more. It’s strange to look down and see yourself not pedaling and think, “Hey, who stopped the pedaling?”. I picked a point in the distance and said, “Just get there” and before I got there, I picked a new point. Over and over until I was topping out and there was Voris, cheerful as ever. Waiting to welcome the team to the top.

We rolled over to the visitor center and I immediately laid down in the sunshine, flat on my back. Happy happy happy. Drew had been the first to the top, then Voris, and then Boyle. The rest team came trickling in and pretty soon we were all laying out in the sun, joking and enjoying more tourists who wondered if we really rode our bikes to the top. With no reason to leave we hung out and had a good time. We had climbed 23,000 feet of elevation, on 4 of the top 10 Monster climbs in the US in just 3 days. It was possible after all.

Now the dessert. The descent from Bristlecone was the best of the whole trip. The upper section is a little gravelly, but the lower section is just pure Descender delight. I was feeling good and even managed to stay within sight of the rest of the team down the mountain. I was traveling close to 50 mph on the straights, ripping over rises that give you that empty stomach feeling before braking and diving into sharp corners. Down and down we came, ten Descenders having the time of their lives. It’s good to be a Descender.

Here’s the day’s elevation profile

In the car, on the way back, Guido, Jim and I reflected on the weekend. We considered ourselves lucky to be able to take part in epic adventures like the Monster Climbs weekend. But even more, we’re fortunate to be able to have the epic adventures with a great group of guys like the Descenders. A team of guys who want to play hard and support and challenge each other. We’re out for the team win and we’re going to have a hell of a good time along the way.

It’s all downhill from here. Thanks guys for a great weekend!