What is Percent Grade

The term “grade” comes from civil engineering and is the most common method of specifying the sloop of a hill.  By definition, grade is defined as:

It is not the angle of the hill, which is measured in degrees.  A very steep section could be a 20% grade, which is about a 10 degree angle.  A 45 degree angle would be 100% grade.

How Do We Use It?

There are two factors associated with a hill climb, the average grade and the grade at any given point.  The average grade is easy to calculate, assuming you know the distance of the climb and the total elevation gain.  Let’s take a hill that is 1 miles long with an elevation change of 1,000 feet (0.189 miles).  You can calculate the grade as follows:

On our bikes we don’t actually measure the “run” but measure the road along the slope of the hill.  Using a little trigonometry, we can determine that for this particular set of numbers the “run” is 0.98 miles and the grade is 19.2%.  We could therefore use the measured distance on the bike and the error here would only be 2%, even less so for lower grades.  We all know from climbing a very steep hill that a grade of 19% is very difficult, but none of the climbs we track have an average grade of 19%.   The steepest of climbs usually average no more than 10% grade, or about 500 vertical feet per mile.  In California, Bolhman On Orbit averages only about 10.5%.  So although average grade is certainly a factor, there are several factors that need to be considered.

• Maximum Grade
• Total Distance
• Total Elevation Gain

How each of these impact you as a climb is very much a personal thing.  Some can power over a very steep, short section, and yet fade with a long climb, while others have a very difficult time with a short, steep grade (or maybe they are not using a low enough gearing) but can climb strong for 3,000 vertical feet.

Of all the parameters we could use to describe a hill climb, the hardest to determine is maximum grade.   Unless you are a surveyor, you are usually limited to measuring elevation gain using an instrument that is using barometric pressure (or even less accurately, GPS only).   How accurate is such a measurement?  Pretty good over a significant elevation change, but not so good over a short distance.  Couple that intrinsic error, with the aspect that a very short, but very steep pitch, is not nearly the same factor as a steep climb for 1/4 mile.  So what are the parameters that should be used calculating maximum grade?

Last year I was biking in the beautiful island of Hilo Hawaii and ventured down about the steepest road I have ever attempted on a road bike. This is a view from the top that shows the vertical descent down to the ocean.

There was a sign at the top of the road that said 25% grade.  This picture gives you the idea.

Going down was tough enough, going up was impossible and only one person in our group made it all the way up without stopping.  To excuse myself for walking a section, I stopped and used an inclinometer application in my iPhone to measure the grade, resting in on the top tube.  I measured 35% grade.

Does that mean the maximum grade was 35%?  Even if the measurement device was accurate, it was still over a distance spanned by my two wheels so a bump in the road could have a big impact.  To calculate the maximum grade, we need to decide over what distance.  It is a decision that the designers of all cyclometers that read out percent grade, need to wrestle with.  Make the distance too long and people don’t get the instant feedback they expect.  Make it too short and you get some numbers that don’t reflect what you feel and that fluctuate too rapidly.  So leave your comments here on:

• What is the minimum distance we should use to calculator maximum grade.
• How best to measure it.

We will use your feedback on developing some factor for maximum grade on the hills we track.

Website Changes

We are updating our hill climbs on the Ultra Cycling website (http://www.ultracycle.net).  We are working on maps and hill profiles for the various climbs.  Look for those changes to be coming soon.

For those who live in the bay area and want to test their climbing skills on some of the local favorites, the 2010 Low Key Hill Climb schedule has been announced. These have had a large turn out and you can make up your own category. Many of the climbs that are planned are also on the Ultra Cycling King of the Mountain hills, so you can have a chance to enter your times here.

The links under the Low Key Hill Climb column take you to their website.  The links under the Ultra Cycling KOM Equivalent column are for the Ultra Cycling website KOM times for that hill.  Note that for the Ultra Cycling website we only include times that individuals input and do not enter any data from the LKHC or other races.

by Lane Parker

After I failed to complete the Devil Mountain Double back in 2007 I decided that super long rides were not for me. So, the 300K (188 miles) seemed out of the question but I’ve been doing so well this year with distances up to 150 miles that I felt like the 300K would be tough but doable. And there’s something different about the brevets, at least for me. There seems to be so much comradarie among the riders than on other organized rides. In the past, I would start getting frustrated after about mile 120 and mad at myself after about mile 150 for signing up for such a distance. Saturday, I never felt that way. It was a great day.

Russ and Sheila

Now for the 300K. My good buddy Ken Emerson picked me up at 4:20 and it was off to the Golden Gate Bridge for a pep talk from Rob Hawks followed by 188 miles in the saddle. Sometimes I wonder what the hell I’m doing on a bicycle at 6AM. It had been raining most of the night but by the time we rolled we just had wet roads and, as usual, I forgot something important: this time it was my fenders. I’m sure the people following me like Russ & Sheila Stevens weren’t too happy about that. Sorry.

Like the last two brevets we wound our way through Sausalito, Corte Madera, Larkspur, then on up to Petaluma. As forecasted, the rain started up again at mid-morning but thankfully it stopped by around noon. For the first time this year, there was a secret checkpoint on the route. When I signed the sheet I noticed that someone had left their route sheet and money in a plastic bag on the tailgate of the truck. I asked Tim Houck, the checkpoint master, what was going to happen with it and he said he would take it back to Rob. With some coercion he agreed to let me take it with me and that conversation separated me from Ken and one of his legion of friends, Kobayashi. When I arrived at the check point in Petaluma, Ken told me his buddy Mojo needed money so I said “I have money.” Mojo was standing at the front of the store wondering who was going to pay for the food and drinks he was holding in his hands so I asked him if he lost his route sheet. When he said yes I handed him the plastic bag with his money and route sheet. I can’t remember seeing anyone more grateful and I was really happy I found the owner. It was a bonus that it was a good friend of Ken’s.

Rolling out of Petaluma I was lucky to be in great company with Barley & Susan Forsman, Mojo, Ken, and ironwoman Michele Santilhano. With a strong crew we cruised the next 30 miles to Healdsburg through farms and vineyards. Leaving Healdsburg at mile 80 I was feeling strong so when I got to the front I put the hammer down and when I looked back Ken and Michele were both rolling along with me so I ground out the next 25 miles or so averaging 20mph. I should have asked them to take the lead a few times or dialed it back a bit because by the time we got to Hwy 1 to turn south I needed a break. Ken and I stopped for some Advil and a bit of a stretch but Michele kept churning with some other guys who had latched on.

Susan

As we headed down Highway 1 I was amazed at how violent the ocean was. I heard later about the earthquake in Chile and wondered if the ocean behavior was related in any way to the earthquake. After the coastal run we caught up to Michele at Diekmann’s at mile 120 but didn’t see her again until the end. Barley and Susan caught us there and after a brief stop they also took off ahead of us. They said Mojo wasn’t feeling too well so he was a bit behind and we didn’t see him again. Just as we were rolling, Clyde Butt rolled up with his new best friend, Andrea Symons from Germany (another ironwoman).

Ken and I slowed the pace a bit from Diekmann’s for the next 24 miles to Marshall at mile 144 where we had the best clam chowder ever. That was the last checkpoint and it was getting dark. As we were prepping to roll, Andrea pulled in and asked if she could join us for the last 40 or so miles. That’s when we discovered how strong she is. I could tell she was capable of taking off at a faster pace but she wanted the company and it was good to have the three of us for the extra lights since it was very dark on the backroads before we got back to civilization.

Lane, Andrea and Ken

I had estimated that we could finish in 14 total hours but we spent a little longer at a couple of the stops, thankfully. So, Ken, Andrea, and I pulled in at 8:37PM. It’s such a great feeling to finish a challenging ride and not be completely wiped out.

Thanks to Rob Hawks and all the volunteers who make these events such a great success. And a big thanks to all the friendly cyclists who support each other so well throughout the ride.

“The Wildest ride in the West”

“Someone said it was tougher than the Death Ride”, said the SAG driver who stopped to give me some water – I agreed. Although the Death Ride has similar elevation gain, it’s split up into fifths and only averages about 7.2% grade. Mainly, though, most cyclists who attempt the Death Ride go extremely focused and properly trained. I did Auburn as an opportunity to view some nice country, but completely had the wrong mindset.

The week before, I had gone down Highway 1 along the coast from Los Gatos to San Luis Obispo. That trip had become an adventure after I broke a chain in the dark and we ended up sleeping in a field near the coast by Lucia, south of Big Sur. After that escapade, the idea of needing to drive and get a hotel wasn’t appealing. Instead, for Auburn, I took the Amtrak Capital Corridor to Sacramento and transferred to an Amtrak bus to go to Auburn.

I arrived early enough to go to Auburn’s Old Town area and get a good meal, then I went to set up my tent. I then went to registration early to hang out with the promoters and was told of the ‘Iowa Hill Time Trial’.

Again, my mind wasn’t set right. I was set to do the 140-mile ‘Lone Ranger’ course, with 17,000 ft of climbing at the official start of 6:30, ignoring the mention that many people would start earlier. I also disregarded ‘Iowa Hill’ as just another climb like ‘The Wall’ or all the other noted climbs in events that often don’t compare to our noteworthy local climbs like Bohlman, Welch Creek or Ramona. I figured I’d blow out the paltry 1.7 miles Time Trial as if it was Redwood Gulch.

The following profile is for the 110-mile “Outlaw” route with 11466 ft. of climbing and 13.5% average grade plus the 1.75 mile timed climb up Iowa Hill. There was nothing ‘just another’ or ‘paltry’ about the day. The following profile shows the deep V prior to Iowa Hill:

The time trial occurred during the second hour of the ride in the location shown at this ‘V’ in the chart. The average grade of Iowa Hill is 13.5% and many short pitches in the 20%+ range. I stopped on the bridge just before to snap a photo:

I got back on my bike and picked up the pace as if attacking a local hill and upon crossing the chalked start line, I monitored my odometer and applied power. At 25% of the distance, I realized I needed throttle back, at 50% I realized that the distance was more important and I slowed into survival mode. Bummed, I looked up to see riders, walking or stopped. I stopped at the top and another cyclist pulled up in disbelief and said he practiced the hill and still couldn’t believe it. Having blown out the cyclists on this hill, the promoters set us up early for a long subsequent climb. Here I saw more stalled cyclists and one awaiting a SAG.

Upon getting refueled by a SAG myself, I continued on and eventually pulled into one of the rest stops:

I wasn’t able to take pictures for a while as it started raining between my last two rest stops. As such, the last rest stop turned me around, preventing me from doing the entire 140-mile course.

A bunch of us hung out under the rest area and headed back into town along a fast, wet downhill. Of course, the rain had stopped after a bit:

The Auburn Century (Wildest Ride in the West) was a challenging and beautiful ride that went through Auburn, Colfax, Meadow Vista, Foresthill and Bowman, past a reservoir and through the Sierras. Although many rides have their favorite hill challenges, or noteworthy names, The Auburn Century was a nicer surprise and worthy of repeating.

Here’s another nice review, with stats:

http://www.mtbguru.com/trip/show_static/92-auburn-century

This year’s event will be on June 12, 2010, sign up now at http://www.wildestride.com/

by Franz Kelsch

I have a few major things on my bucket list that I checked off in the last few years, but one that I had not yet accomplished was to ride the Moab White Rim Trail in a single day. I have ridden it before but in 3 days so I knew that although the trail is not that technical, with over 100 miles with no water sources, over 6,000 feet of climbing, sand, and pounding from the terrain, finishing it in a single day makes it a monster ride.

A couple of weeks ago my brother Mike called and let me know they were going to attempt to do the White Rim Trail in a day and thought they would have a spot for me. I knew my friend Jim would also be interested so I checked if there was a spot for him, which became available. It was short notice and no time to do much training on the mountain bike so it was relying on my road bike training. I figured I had a fairly good chance of finishing but was not fully confident. There was going to be a vehicle to follow the riders to carry water and food, and provide the only bail out if someone could not make it.

On Thursday Jim and I made the long drive from California up to our second home in Orem, Utah. On Friday afternoon, Mike came by to pick us up for the drive to Moab. Mike and Stu’s bike were in the bed so we loaded Jim and my bike on a rear mounted rack.

It was dark by the time we arrived in Moab. The four of us checked into the motel and then met Rian, Vint and Jack who had driven from Colorado. Jack had offered to drive Mike’s truck along the route and be our support vehicle, supporting the 6 riders (2 from California, 2 from Utah and 2 from Colorado). We decided at dinner to leave in the morning at 5 am. First stop was Denny’s, the only place open at that time to get some breakfast.

From Moab it is a 30 mile drive out to the White Rim Trail. The trail itself does not form a complete loop so there is a section of connecting the two ends of the trail with 14 miles on a dirt road and then about 7 miles on a paved road. Some people do the White Rim in a Day by skipping these miles, having someone shuttle them, but we wanted to do the entire loop and finish where we started. We drove the 14 miles out on the dirt road and parked at the top of the Horsetheif Trail Climb. Our biking route would then be going back on the 14 miles of dirt road to the highway.

Our plan was to start biking around 7 am, just before civil twilight. After getting a group shot we started at 7:15 am.

It was now barely light enough to start without a light. We rode the 14 mile dirt road section back to the highway and ended up with 1,600 feet of climbing. The sun was now fully up so we decided to take off some of the clothing and put it in the truck. That stop cost us 7 minutes. It had been decided earlier to send the truck ahead at this point so it could get down Shafer Trail before we did since we could descend faster than the truck. We biked another 7 miles on the paved highway to the park entrance where we had to stop and pay the entrance fee. There was no one manning the entrance booth to take the fee and we didn’t want to bike an extra 2 miles to the visitor center to pay it. Luckily we noticed a drop box we could put in our $5 each in an envelope. Soon after the entrance we made a left turn and headed down Shafer Trail. This is my least favorite part of the White Rim Trail. It is very rocky and a relatively long steep descent. On some sections, if you went off the trail, you would fall down 500 feet because it is cut into a cliff.

When we reached the bottom at 7:43 am there was no truck. Evidently Jack had not noticed the drop box and had driven over to the visitor center to pay the entrance fee. While waiting I took a few pictures of the riders.

After the truck arrived we topped off our water and headed out, for a total stopping time of 18 minutes at that spot. Vint and Rian went out ahead, and Mike and Stu were falling behind Jim and I. Jim was riding next to me. Just as soon as he made a comment to me that my mountain biking skills had improved, he hit a bump that knocked one hand off his handlebar and he was headed off the trail. He was able to recover just in time. I thought it would have made a better story if he had taken a fall, but with a trail of rocks and slickrock, no one wanted to fall on this ride.

At 34 miles into the ride we came upon Rian, who had stopped to wait. While waiting, Jim was checking his tires and realized the rear was too low of a pressure. It seemed like a good spot to wait for the other riders and the truck.

We were not quite sure what happened and it was 15 minutes before they showed up. I guess Jack was having a hard time driving the truck to keep up with the bikers so Mike was holding back. Jim pumped his tire with the floor pump from the truck and we were off, with a total stop of 18 minutes. Rian had estimated that we needed to average 10.5 mph and stop a total of 90 minutes, or we would not finish without lights. But we had now used up half of our total allocated 90 minutes stopping time and had only gone 17 miles from the start going down Shafer Trail. We clearly needed to pick up the pace and keep any more stopping to a minimum.

Our next stop was at mile 43 and we were off within 6 minutes. We had some periodic stops along the way and were doing similar quick stops. Keeping up a fast steady pace and short stops left little time to take any pictures but I was able to grab a few at some of the stops.

At White Crack (1:24 pm and mile 58), we did take a bit longer break. With 11 minutes I was able to gobble down a PB&J sandwich and drink a diet coke. After another 2 hours we finally reached Murphy (2:15 pm and 65 miles). I knew from past experience that this was one of the hills I would not be able to climb so I got off my bike at the bottom and started to walk up. It allowed me to grab one picture of Rian who was making it up the hill.

After another short stop at the top of Murphy we continued on. Mike had promised me no more climbing before the last climb so I kept saying, “hey I would call this a climb” every time we had to go up.

Actually we had some real serious climbing up Hardscrable (87 miles and 4:45 pm). This section proved too difficult for me so I was walking part of the climbs but Rian and some others were motoring up them. I could never figure how someone could climb such steep grades with rocks and loose dirt. It was amazing to watch.

We now started our descend down to the Green River. I recall last year this section had a lot of sand that I had to walk through this year I was able to stay on the bike. I could see several vehicles stopped on the road ahead. Some group, headed in the opposite direction as we were going, had got stuck trying to pull a loaded trailer with a truck that just had street tires on it. Cars had been stopped behind it. This is a steep section and no room for a vehicle to go around and it was difficult enough just to get my bike around the congestion. They kept trying to put some rocks under the truck tires to get traction but were failing. I decided to bike on down where I saw Vint waiting. It was now 5:16 pm and I was running out of daylight so Jim and I decided to go ahead. But that meant we could not retrieve any water or food, or even our lights, from the support vehicle. I had enough water and hoped we could make it before dark. Vint said he was going to wait for a short while to see if they freed the road, then catch us.

Finally we reached my favorite part of the trail, along the Green river. Jim was not feeling that great so we made one stop to take on some more food. While we were waiting Vint and Rian joined us and told us that the trailer had finally got freed so it should not be too long before our support vehicle could continue on. We all continued along together. Rian’s bottom bracket was making a real racket so I was not sure he would be able to make it. At last, at 6:13 pm we made it to the bottom of the final climb up Horsethief Trail. We had figured that we could bike without lights until 7 pm so I knew that I had plenty of time to make the climb. I was feeling fine enough so I went ahead and reached the parking lot at 6:35 pm, with plenty of time to spare before it was too dark to bike without a light. It was a great feeling to finish such an epic ride.

I grabbed my camera and took some pictures of the other riders as they finished right behind me.

It was getting cold now. Luckily I had kept a jacket in my Camelbak but that was not enough. Rian and Vint had both parked their cars at the top, but both had left their keys in the support vehicle. Fortunately Rian had a keypad so we could get in his car, out of the wind. Another gal was also parked there, waiting for her group who had also been doing the White Rim in a day. Some time passed and no sign of Mike and Stu or any of the riders she was waiting for. One of the riders from the other group finally came in and gave us an update that although the trailer had been freed, it got stuck again. I figured Mike had stayed back to watch his truck and would not leave until it had got through. We were not sure how long it was going to be now. Finally a second rider from the other group arrived and let us know that the trailer had finally cleared the climb. At 7:48 pm Mike and Stu arrived, wearing headlamps. Right behind them was the support vehicle.

It turned out to be ideal conditions. Although this time of the year meant less sunlight, the temperature was just about right for such a long ride. I had a fantastic time and the group of guys I was riding with made it extra special.

Later I downloaded the data from my Polar heart rate monitor. I had to adjust my distances because I didn’t have things set right for my mountain bike so I was reading 7% low on the distance. Mike got around 100 miles on his Garmin GPS so I used that as the total distance and adjusted things accordingly. Here is a elevation profile and some other data. Click the chart to view enlarged.

Date: 10/24/09
Distance: 100 miles
Climbing: 6,600 feet
Average Heart Rate: 132
Maximum Heart Rate: 169 (93% of Max HR)
Average Speed (rolling): 10.5 mph
Total Time: 11:20
Stopping Time: 1:50

In The Complete Guide to Climbing (By Bike), author John Summerson wrote about Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb: The most difficult road bike hill climb in the U.S. and perhaps the world, this road is only open to bikes during the annual hill climb race usually held in August and at times for several hours for a practice ride shortly before the race. No concession to gradient was made as it starts out steep and never lets up all the way to the top.

Woot! I had to try it. That meant getting up at 4:45 AM on February 1st, 2009, as the registration opened at 8 AM Eastern Time. In 2008, the 600-person field filled in 7 minutes. The fact that my family lives near Mt. Washington in northern New Hampshire meant that the race could be part of a longer vacation. A friend of my father’s told him that the gradient was so steep that cyclists had to stand the entire way. As a Low-Key Hillclimber and veteran of many Almaden Cycle Touring Club “billygoat” hills of gradient greater than 20%, I knew that I would not have to stand for much of an average-12% climb. Nonetheless, the 4725′ elevation gain over 7.4 miles was a bit scary, especially when paired with the 22% finish, reminiscent of our local Mt. Diablo’s 16% finish. You do have to wonder about an event where the winningest riders in both the men’s and women’s categories are under long-term ban by the World Anti-Doping Agency.

According to Summerson, Mt. Washington has the toughest 5-mile climb in the U.S., with an average 12.1% slope over that distance. The Angliru featured in the Vuelta a Espana goes up at an average gradient of 10.1% over 7.8 miles, while the infamous L’Alpe d’Huez of the Tour de France rises up 8.4% over 8.1 miles. By comparison, local lung-buster Alba climbs 2050′ over 3.9 miles for an average 10% grade, with the fearsome Bohlmann-On Orbit rising 2337′ over 4.7 miles for a similar 10%. Mt. Washington thus has about twice the elevation gain of Bohlmann-On Orbit over significantly less than twice the distance. As a frequent climber of these Bay Area hills, I normally ride a 52-39-30 in the front and an 11-27 in the back and definitely had occasion to use my lowest gear at Mt. Washington.

The race was on August 15th, 2009. I flew out to New England on the 13th and stayed with my brother. Jim Chaskin of The Bicycle Outfitter packed my bike up and shipped it, and thanks to help from friend Michele Rae, UPS figured out where it was and delivered it on the 14th. The night before the race, my father, brother and their wives and I stayed over at the Mt. Madison Motel in Gorham, NH.

The morning of the event, I drove out to the Glen View Cafe at the base of the Mountain and had breakfast with a few other participants. Mt. Washington is famous for its bad weather, but August 15th dawned clear and warm. The summit was clearly visible from the base, and riders could see how nearby and high it was!

The race start was amusing because I showed up in my Alto Velo kit, and the P.A. announcer clearly thought I was one of the Webcor women pros. A Colavita rider I spoke to was very friendly as she clearly was wondering why she didn’t recognize me. We 500+ riders went off in five flights all initiated by a loud gun. I was in the 4th of 5th flights, presumably based on the estimated time (90 minutes) I submitted.

At the bottom - Credit: Philbrick Photo

As noted in the press coverage, the day was beautiful, and riders were actually hot at the bottom. The road surface was mostly smooth and wide in the first five miles. While I could tell that we were definitely going uphill, the variable 10-15% grade didn’t seem any worse than going up Hicks or Montebello, because it wasn’t. There were two kilometer-long stretches averaging > 14%, on one of which I did stand a bit, but for the most part I was taking it easy and conserving my energy. I was pretty nervous when we hit the dirt/gravel section at about mile 5, but since there had been just a bit of recent rain, the roadbed was packed and traction was good. I rode on the embedded-gravel section in the center of the road since
I was worried about slipping my traction wheel when the dirt turned up, but then I was nervous about flatting on some of the sharper-looking rocks. Everyone definitely breathed a sigh of relief when they got back on pavement at about mile 6.5.

About Halfway - Credit: Philbrick Photo

By this point, the road was a bit narrow and twisty. The views were spectacular since the day was so clear: 360-degree panoramas of all of the craggy and green Presidential Range. By this point, I was having a fabulous time and knew I was going to make it all the way to the top, so I picked up the pace a wee bit. The whole way I was passing riders who were resting or walking, and now I started passing folks who were still riding. As we approached the summit, we entered some mist.

Final Climb - Credit: Philbrick Photo

In the last mile, I started to go past a lot of spectators. There had been scattered fans all the way up, but as we got into the last half-mile, real crowds were lining the road. At about a
quarter-mile out, I saw that my brother had chalked my name on the roadbed! That really surprised me, and I clicked up a couple of a gears and accelerated, which caused a couple of spectators to hoot encouragement at me.

View of the last wall before the road narrows and the pavement deteriortaes

I came around the final big turn and saw the last wall, which is as steep as Cat’s Hill, but 50 yards long, with two hairpin turns and several big potholes. If those challenges weren’t enough, I saw that the road was only 12-15′ wide, and at the edge were not barriers or course marshals, but spectators with flailing arms and baby strollers. Yikes! I was reminded of
photos of Liege-Bastogne-Liege or the Tour of Flanders:

The Muur van Geraardsbergen in Ronde van Vlaanderen (Tour of Flanders) for women. At least there's a rope between the riders and the crowd. Photo taken by Lander Vandergucht.

I had plenty of energy to put on a sprint to the finish, but I was scared. I stay seated, and moving my eyes rapidly between the spectators and the potholes, ground up the final climb. I bobbled in a giant pothole but did not go over. As I hit the first hairpin, I heard my family screaming, “GO ALISON! GO!” They must have been inches away from me although I hadn’t seen them.

Okay, it was hard.

Later on my family told me that: a) the woman’s overall winner Sue Schlatter had fallen on the same pothole while standing and pumping; and b) spectators had knocked over a unicyclist who was insane enough to ride up Mt. Washington. I’m glad I was conservative on the final bit as, hey, I already had road rash at the start! I rolled around the final bend and over the finish to have attendants grab me, put a blanket over me, and hand me water. Awesome.

I was 12/17 in my W45-50 category, which includes the top two women’s finishers. In retrospect, I could have gone about 10 or 15 minutes faster than my 108-minute finish, but I was nervous about the gravel section and the 22-24% finish and went quite slow at the bottom. My tracklog on Google MyMaps includes my warm-up as well as the race.

After the event, my family gave me a ride down, as racers were not allowed to descend. Hell, a lot of cars are not allowed to drive up!

Half the cars in New England have a sticker

All in all, the race was a wonderful experience. I forget how beautiful New England is between visits. I totally recommend racing
in front of your family even if they are not sports fans.

For contrast, read men’s overall winner Phil Gaimon’s report.

alchaiken@gmail.com (Alison Chaiken)

I decided to do a new double century called the White Mountain Double to get my third official double for the year in the Triple Crown series. This ride climbs to the top of White Mountain after a flat thirteen mile warm up. The climb gains 6000 feet in twenty miles. After that the ride skirts near the northern boundary of Death Valley heading east. Then it swings north for many miles before turning west and heading back southwest over a long climb and through Benton to the start/finish in Bishop California.

I really like the Bishop area so I took some vacation days from work and went up a couple days before Saturday’s ride to acclimate to the altitude and to explore the area. All the weather reports I heard were for record high temperatures all over the area for Saturday.

By Friday night I was a little apprehensive about the heat. I also had an upset stomach due to too much carbo loading. I went to bed fairly early but could not sleep much.

The ride had two ride starts. The first start was at 4:15 for the predicted slower riders and the second was at 5:15 for people who felt that they could finish the ride in 14 hours or less. I felt fairly confident that I could finish within 14 hours since I finished the Eastern Sierra reroute with about 1500 more estimated feet of climbing in much colder but just as harsh conditions as I expected to find Saturday.

At 2:15 AM I wasn’t sleeping though so I decided to try and make the early start. One thing I learned on this ride was that it is a good idea to check the tires for damage as soon as possible after getting up. I waited until about a half hour before the ride start to find a thorn in my front tire. Fortunately I had a new Michelin Pro Race 3 with me and this was a good excuse to put it on with a new tube.

I made it to the ride start on time and we rolled south down Highway 395 on time at 4:15 am. I led for awhile but fortunately someone else came to the front for most of the ride to the foot of White Mountain. I stopped to take off my vest at the turn off to Death Valley Road right before the start of the climb. This allowed me not to have a dry vest when I got to the top and it kept me from racing up the first climb.

After about 10 minutes I got a good rythmn going and I was able to pass most of the riders who got ahead of me when I put on my vest. I stopped at the first bathroom though and this took about 10 minutes. Then I stopped at the rest stop to fill my bottles.

Even with all those stops I only counted about 10 riders in front of me. So I wasn’t feeling too bad about the ride when I got to the 10000 plus foot paved summit of White Mountain ( a dirt road continues to near the 14000 foot plus summit).

I checked in at the summit station and put my vest back on. The descent wasn’t too bad and it was getting quite warm already.

The next stop was at the same aid station to make sure I had enough Perpeteum to last the next aid station. I stopped again at the bottom of White Mountain Road to drop off my vest and a thermal shirt and my back tail light to have them transported to near the final aid station where I would pick them up later.

After about 6 more miles of very fun descending I was finally at the low point of the ride and the long flat desert road stretched out before me. At this point there was one rider about 1/4 mile in front of me and I was riding with another. We caught the other rider (Jim Poppy from Palo Alto) but the other rider didn’t want to work as hard so he fell back.

We filled our bottles and headed toward Gilbert Pass. I was climbing pretty well at this point and Jim fell back. After the climb though he quickly caught me and we worked together for a few miles (maybe only 5 miles). This was tiring and boring for me though. Even though it is faster to work with two riders it is so monotonous that I chose to go slower instead and let Jim keep a faster pace.

The next rest stop was at a bar appropriately called “The Boonies.” After a 20 minute break there I took off and Jim took off a few minutes later. By now the desert road was getting a little boring and I had developed an annoying habit of looking at my cycle computer every 30 seconds. At this point I started making a mental note to look at the computer as little as possible and just concentrate on the scenery. This strategy worked quite well especially after a short climb dropped me into a beautiful desert basin surrounded by painted mountains. This was at mile 110 and I was feeling a second wind which lasted all the way until the next stop which was the smoothie station.

I arrived at the smoothie station a few minutes behind Jim. A couple fast 5:15 am starters caught us there. After a smoothie and a fresh dose of sunblock and fuel I was ready. Now it started to get hot. As I started the climb the two 5:15 starters passed me. This was first time anyone had passed me since the start of the White Mountain climb 100 miles ago. Jim was well ahead of me too. But no one really took off at light speed and I kept them within sight (as much as I could see with all the sweat dripping sun block into my eyes). This was another 15 plus mile climb and I was very unprepared for it. Although I was still climbing at a decent pace it did throw my calculations for the ride off.

At the next station I could feel a mild bonk (is bonk an adjective?) and the heat was starting to slow me as well. I let someone park my bike for me and I took a seat with a cold cup of water for about 10 minutes. When I got back on the bike I noticed that my computer had been zeroed out. It’s a newer cateye and it has a hair trigger on all the functions so it’s best to leave it on “distance 2″ because if that gets zeroed out the other information stays. On all the other functions a simple touch can wipe out everything but distance 2 and total odometer. I only mention this because I think it may be a better idea to decline an offer of help with my bike on doubles. I think just gently laying the bike down is a better idea rather than letting someone else touch it or spending time trying to think of a good place to keep it standing.

Back on the bike I hit the last climb of the day and I was still climbing ok but definitely not fast. The downhill into Benton was the easiest part of the ride. I passed the rest stop and came to the foot of the last climb of the Eastern Sierra reroute. Fortunately at that point one of the ride volunteers came driving up and told me I had missed the stop. I took another 10 minutes at this stop and was anticipating the promised tail wind that I had enjoyed for the final 37 miles of the Eastern Sierra reroute earlier this year.

That wasn’t happening on this day though. I rode by some flags and they were flying straight into my face. So I went into survival mode. The two 5:15 starters who had passed me earlier had stopped at the rest stop for an extended break because one of them seemed to be suffering from too much water retention, with similar symptoms to the ones described by Russ Steven’s on his Hoodoo attempt. These were two riders who probably could finish a ride like the normal Eastern Sierra Route in 11 to 11.5 hours or better. As I geared down for my struggle with the headwind they passed me at about 19 to 20 mph. I thought about grabbing their wheel since I am sure they weren’t going full speed but thought better of it since I was getting pretty tired by now.

Once I hit mile 190 I knew I would get my Triple Crown for the year so I decided to take a break or two on the way in. I pulled over just after the sun went down at a place that looked comfortable and safe to rest a few minutes. I felt something on my leg, looked down, and the mosquitoes were getting ready to inject. Needless to say this kept me riding into Bishop which led to a shower and dinner at a reasonable hour and a fair nights sleep. The next day I was feeling better than usual after a double and stopped to explore the June Lakes area and Bodie State Historical Park.

So if I had a good nights sleep before the double I would have started at 5:15 and probably not been much faster throughout the ride. If it wasn’t for the mosquitoes coming out as the sun went down I would have stopped one or two times in the last ten miles. Thanks to both of these things though I finished exactly at 7:00 and was able recover enough to enjoy the drive home.

The double itself was nice. Good support and friendly staff at all the rest stops. The route was difficult because after the first three climbs there is a 70 mile (approximately) trek north which on this day was into a headwind. The headwind wasn’t so bad but the ride had a fairly small turnout (83 started) so there wasn’t much help for the headwind. Of course the predicted tailwind from Benton to Bishop turned into a strong headwind as well which probably cost me about a half hour at least. Anyway, all that is part of cycling and since I didn’t really draft anyone all day, I feel more of a sense of accomplishment for finishing this one which is my toughest double to date.

Here is the link to more information and results for this double…http://www.ndzone.com/

by Franz Kelsch

I have ridden the Furnace Creek 508 twice and crewed on the Hoodoo 500 once and thought I would give some perspective of the two. In summary I feel those interested in doing such a long event might consider the Hoodoo 500 instead of the Furnace Creek 508 for the following reasons. Of course some may view some of these as a negative.

These are just my personal opinion and some may view things very differently.  It is clear that the Furnace Creek 508 has the larger reputation, which is understandable since it has been going for more than 25 years.  The Hoodoo 500 is relatively new, just completing it’s third event.  Still with just little experience, the Hoodoo 500 competes quite well with the Furnace Creek 508 event and in my opinion surpasses it in many areas:

I am thinking to do the Hoodoo 500 next year (as a team, never crazy enough to try as a solo).

by Russ Stevens

I want to say thank you to everyone who sent words of encouragement over the past few days. They have really helped me get through this week and help me gain the perspective that a DNF after 350 miles in <22 hours is more of an accomplishment than a failure. There are infinite outcomes that could have actually been serious and worthy of feeling devastated. I emerged safely and uninjured. That is all that matters. Thank you so much to everyone who was thinking of me and praying for me while I was on the road. I believe a large part of the reason I emerged safe and sound despite all my difficulties was because you were all with me in spirit.

I also want to say a very sincere thank you to everyone who made a donation in honor of my father to the American Cancer Society. 101 donations were made so far (including personal checks), raising $7738.60 to fight cancer. This is completely amazing and far exceeded any expectations I had before starting this fundraiser. I am totally blown away and I am extremely grateful to all of you for your support.

If you are still reading, here is the Reader’s Digest version of what happened.

The HooDoo 500 course is a 519 mile loop that starts and ends in St. George, Utah. The ride goes through amazingly beautiful country including portions of Zion and Bryce Canyon National Parks. I was one of 13 solo riders who started at 7 am on Saturday. Solo riders are allowed to have a support vehicle during the race. The support vehicle provides “leap frog” support during the day which involves stopping along the road to provide the rider food, water and whatever else they might need. In a race situation, riders don’t want to loose time stopping to get food or water. The picture below shows Sheila and I doing a rolling water exchange at the top of a hill with the support car and the beautiful scenery in the background. Still photos do not do justice to how flawlessly my crew handled exchanges when I was moving 20 mph faster than they were. The other photo is of me climbing a particularly steep but gorgeous stretch of road.

More photos taken by Franz Kelsch can be seen here:

At night, the support vehicle follows with special lighting and signage to protect me from traffic and make sure I am doing ok. One of the most surreal moments of the ride occurred at approximately 9 pm on Saturday night. A mountain lion jumped from the hillside on the right side of the road and crossed just 15-20 feet in front of me in the pitch darkness. Amazing.

I had one of the best support crews I could have possibly hoped for – Sheila, Franz Kelsch and Paul Vlasveld. Not only did they come with tens of thousands of miles of cycling experience between them, but Paul also came with a fully equipped van! I can’t adequately express my thanks to these people for supporting me. Even though they didn’t get to pedal a single mile of the course, they were right there for me (with very little sleep) every inch of the way.

The race started extremely well. I predicted beforehand that my biggest competition would come from David Holt. David is a very accomplished, RAAM qualified rider who had previously placed 2^nd and 4^th as a solo in the Furnace Creek 508. He also holds a Furnace Creek two-man team record for his age group. Despite David’s abilities, I found it relatively easy to keep him in sight for the first 200 miles of the ride. Maybe not as easy as the next photo implies, but I was in my element. I probably could have passed him earlier, but I was determined to not go off the front too early in the ride. Too many rookies fail that way. I like to think all the other riders were thinking, “Who is that guy – how can he go that fast wearing sandals?”

After about 100 miles, the only problem I had was a mild case of cramping. I kept this at bay by liberally taking salt and electrolyte tablets. I also noticed I was really thirsty and drinking a LOT. We had a scale in the van to weigh me during the race. During long training rides, it was not uncommon for me to loose a few pounds if I did not drink enough. However, when I stepped on the scale at mile 115, I was about 7 pounds heavier than I was at the ride start. I was confused by this, but not concerned because it seemed to indicate that at least I was not getting dehydrated. Plus I was feeling great! I was a few minutes ahead of my spreadsheet predictions, and still keeping pace with the leader. Maybe the cheap bathroom scale fell out of the support van one too many times.

Around 6 pm, the lead rider stopped to switch bikes and I suddenly found myself in the lead. Then the serious climbing started and I just kept inching ahead. I made it over the 9600 foot summit of Boulder Mountain, and by 12:15am on Sunday morning I was leading the race by almost 30 minutes. Not bad after 285 miles and 21,000 feet of climbing. However, even at this point I knew something was wrong. Despite keeping ahead of the competition, I knew my climb rate was far below where it should have been. I was also developing difficulty eating and drinking. Had I stopped at this point and given myself time to recover, it might have been an entirely different race. However, I was unwilling to give up the lead. That is where things really started to go downhill. Everything that is, except the road.

The next 5 hours proved to be extremely difficult. In all endurance events, it is extremely critical and difficult to ingest enough calories (~ 300 calories every hour), water and electrolytes while continually pushing your body to the extreme. I kept getting weaker and basically stopped eating and drinking. When I tried I just got too nauseous. Somehow I kept telling myself I could work through it if I just kept moving. But one thing that never happens on an endurance ride is improving your performance without food or water. Finally at mile 300 I stopped and my crew convinced me to sleep for 15 minutes. However, this was too little too late. I actually managed to ride my bike another 50 miles very slowly, eventually getting passed by the rider I had followed for so many miles. Finally, I just couldn’t go any further. When I got off my bike at that point, I immediately started shaking and the crew got me into the van with blankets. They tried to get me to drink small amounts, which led to much throwing up. After sleeping for an hour and a half, I awoke still shaking and still throwing up. I honestly can’t remember anytime in my life when I felt physically worse than I did at the city park of Circleville, UT at 6:45 am. I really didn’t know what was wrong or how to solve it. We had brought Cindi Staiger’s phone number along and had the presence of mind to try and call her for advice, but of course we had no cell phone signal. At this point, the crew and myself were very concerned with my medical condition and were not willing to risk my health or life just to finish the ride. That is when we decided to abandon the race and get ourselves closer to medical options.

So what went wrong? While I may never know for sure, I have some very good theories. First of all, I am almost certain I ingested too much salt and water early in the ride. I have spoken with my doctor and he concluded this is the only reasonable explanation for my weight gain during the ride. Next, I failed to keep eating. While my loss of appetite was almost certainly caused by my electrolyte imbalance, my real mistake was choosing to continue pedaling after this problem occurred. I’m reasonably sure that the lack of food led to hypoglycemia, which led to the shaking, weakness and vomiting that eventually put an end to my race.

In hindsight, I might have been able to recover by sleeping in my support vehicle for several more hours. By the time my support crew returned me to the hotel at 8:30 am, I was already feeling slightly better, but I was still overweight and visibly “puffy” – Sheila said I looked downright beefy. Over the next four hours, I alternately slept and peed until I was almost back to my pre-race weight and feeling almost normal. Had I been on the course, I would have likely gotten back on my bike. I had ideas of asking my crew to take me back to the point I abandoned, but Paul had actually left with his van and went hiking in Zion for the afternoon. Sheila called it “devine intervention”. We went out to the finish line at the front of the hotel, and I found it a bit difficult to be in the St. George heat. Could I have still biked? Who knows? David Holt finished at 5:30pm. By 7 pm when we went to dinner, I was able to eat and drink and really wanted to be on my bike.

So what did I learn?

1. Keen sandals are awesome. I was so worried about my feet being the weakest link for high mileage. My feet never hurt. Yes, you can do real cycling (and touring, and walking and commuting) in sandals.
2. It is really not appropriate or intelligent to attempt to win an endurance event at a mileage you have not previous attempted. Trying to win this race caused me to make a number of bad decisions. I took too much salt instead of just slowing down when I started to cramp. I didn’t stop to rest when I could no longer eat.
3. Never ever change your nutrition the day of a big ride. I had only used SaltStick pills sparingly during previous long rides. This ride I probably took more than 15 in a 10 hour period. Pay attention to your body. I felt something was wrong at least 5 hours before I abandoned the race. I should have stopped to figure it out rather than hoping it would magically work itself out.
4. You cannot think clearly after 300 miles on the bike. All of this seems ridiculously clear now, but none of this seemed obvious during the race. As a team we should have known what our primary goal was (winning vs. finishing) and how we would tackle certain situations. We had never seriously considered the possibility that I would not finish. Thus, we were completely unprepared to deal with that situation and come up with alternatives.
5. If you are having serious problems during a ride, get help. If you can’t think straight, rely on your crew. If you have a doctor or experienced friend you can call, do so. If there is a checkpoint nearby, go there and see what they have to say. There will be more resources there (and probably cell phone coverage) to help you decide if waiting, abandoning or going to the ER was the best course of action.
6. Don’t be so quick to give up. Two hours stopped on the side of the road seemed like an eternity to me. But in reality, even after that rest I had still covered 2/3 of the course in 24 hours and still had 24 hours left to do the last third. If you really can’t think of anything to do to solve your problem, but still have time, then try doing nothing. A lot of the time your body will sort it out itself.
7. All of the above rules go out the window if you think your life or health is in jeopardy. In this case do whatever you have to in order to get medical attention.

Although my hopes of finishing (and possibly even winning) the race were dashed, I accomplished a personal best for miles and feet of climbing in a 24 hour period. Luckily, by Monday morning, my electrolytes recovered fully. Then I got an unexpected chance to go home with some added sense of purpose.

At 6 am, I suddenly woke up and felt the need to go to the finish line at the front of the hotel. I found out that the final rider was likely lost on the last section of the course, a portion that goes through a park where support vehicles are not allowed. This section usually takes less than an hour and the rider had already taken over 1.5 hours. I asked the Race Director if it was ok to go out on my bicycle to look for the rider. I got permission and quickly rode off into the darkness. About 4 miles from the finish line, I located the rider who was moving very slowly due to fatigue and confusion. I gave him a pep talk and told him he did not have much time to beat the 7 am time cap. After I finally reassured him that I could lead him and wouldn’t let him get lost, he suddenly found renewed energy and fought toward the finish line. I escorted him to the finish line with a mere 7 minutes to spare. So although I did not finish, I did get my picture taken at the finish line with a very appreciative Jeremy Frick. Ultimately, only 7 of the original 13 solo riders finished the race.

It was incredibly disappointing to not finish, but success in ultra-endurance races often boils down to experience, learning from mistakes and learning how to recover during a ride. At 40, I like to think of myself as a very young rookie. The overall winner, David Holt, is 57!!!

In the end, was the race worth everything I had to sacrifice to get ready? Probably not. Will I try it again anyway sometime? I probably will. I just need to find a way to tackle these events without them coming in the way of the truly important things in life. Things like getting a good night’s sleep, truly enjoying the path to get ready, and always making sure my wife knows she is more important that even the most serious bike ride.

One more thing I learned: Unless you get paid to ride, there is no such thing as a serious bike ride. If it is not fun to get ready for or to do (or to blog about it afterwards), it is probably not worth doing.

Thanks again for your support and encouragement before, during and after this ride.

Russ Stevens
Click the link below to view my fund and tribute page to my dad, Wayne Stevens.
http://main.acsevents.org/goto/hoodooforyou