It seems to me that the inevitable acclimatization to repeated experiences always creeps up on you unawares. On yesterday's ride Paul jokingly referred to an almost imperceptible 1% grade over a few hundred feet as our hors catégorie climb for the day. On today's 118 mile ride a 4% climb over a quarter mile actually felt like a hill to us. That's pretty funny since the "Half Burner" rides (sponsored by the Blue Ridge Bicycle Club in Asheville NC) to which we were accustomed are typically routed over hills with 8%+ grades for multiple miles. In fact just today our buds back home went for a 56 mile half burner with 5164 feet of elevation. We did 2400 feet of elevation over 118 miles, and most of that 2400' was from the cracks every 20 feet in the old US Highway 16 "pavement". So our sense of what is a climb is going down fast, and Paul's cadence (speed of pedaling) is going down at about the same rate.
There is a great aspect of bike riding which is not available on these short climbing efforts we are making as we cross the Plains States. Contrast this with Day 15, back in the Black Hills, we rode up Iron Mountain Road which extended for 12 miles at a (relatively mild) grade of 4%. When you get to such a hill, the dynamic of a group of riders goes out the window. The "climbers" (thinner, lighter riders with the best power-to-weight ratio) go out front and motor effortlessly away - at least it sure looks effortless to me from my vantage point behind. Since speed drops when climbing, wind resistance is less of a factor so the advantage of staying on a wheel to draft the rider ahead also goes down. So the group generally breaks up, sorting itself automatically by the power-to-weight ratios.
For me climbing a long hill can be very taxing but only if I'm in a big hurry, for example trying to keep up with Paul, Rachel, Erin or Javier. Its difficult to think of a more torturous time on a bike than such a pursuit. However I can always slow down to take it at the pace my body can handle it, or as my old college friend Willie Milner expressed it "you control the vertical." This is when the beautiful aspect of climbing emerges. Its so quiet. With the slower speed there is no whoosh of wind in your ears, with no one around in the mood to chat, with the birds singing in the trees, with new vistas opening up as you traverse one corner after another. Its also engaging for the mind to look at the shape of the hills, valleys and ridges, trying to suss out what pass the road is heading for and what route it make take to get there.
This is not to claim I'm sorry to see the top! And as my compatriots know, I ride for the descents. But perhaps more on that another day.
Just a few photos from today.
Shot by me while drafting Lon Haldeman at the start:
Fellow tourist Vikki takes a pull:
This is what the PACTour mobile "sag" break looks like. These are set up every 25-35 miles before and after the more elaborate lunch break:
Darkening clouds over the course of the ride but no rain. Real nice and cool though - the high didn't get above 75 degrees.
There is a great aspect of bike riding which is not available on these short climbing efforts we are making as we cross the Plains States. Contrast this with Day 15, back in the Black Hills, we rode up Iron Mountain Road which extended for 12 miles at a (relatively mild) grade of 4%. When you get to such a hill, the dynamic of a group of riders goes out the window. The "climbers" (thinner, lighter riders with the best power-to-weight ratio) go out front and motor effortlessly away - at least it sure looks effortless to me from my vantage point behind. Since speed drops when climbing, wind resistance is less of a factor so the advantage of staying on a wheel to draft the rider ahead also goes down. So the group generally breaks up, sorting itself automatically by the power-to-weight ratios.
For me climbing a long hill can be very taxing but only if I'm in a big hurry, for example trying to keep up with Paul, Rachel, Erin or Javier. Its difficult to think of a more torturous time on a bike than such a pursuit. However I can always slow down to take it at the pace my body can handle it, or as my old college friend Willie Milner expressed it "you control the vertical." This is when the beautiful aspect of climbing emerges. Its so quiet. With the slower speed there is no whoosh of wind in your ears, with no one around in the mood to chat, with the birds singing in the trees, with new vistas opening up as you traverse one corner after another. Its also engaging for the mind to look at the shape of the hills, valleys and ridges, trying to suss out what pass the road is heading for and what route it make take to get there.
This is not to claim I'm sorry to see the top! And as my compatriots know, I ride for the descents. But perhaps more on that another day.
Just a few photos from today.
Shot by me while drafting Lon Haldeman at the start:
Shot of me (in blue) while drafting Lon Haldeman at the start. I suppose its theoretically possible that I could tuck in closer:
Fellow tourist Vikki takes a pull:
This is what the PACTour mobile "sag" break looks like. These are set up every 25-35 miles before and after the more elaborate lunch break:
Darkening clouds over the course of the ride but no rain. Real nice and cool though - the high didn't get above 75 degrees.
Ahh, a mention of Willie and controlling the vertical...I wonder where he is right now...you may have no idea how much I admire you and Paul doing this ride together...good for you guys and for all your fellow cyclists...
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