Sunday, November 21, 2010

One last big climb in 2010 - Palomar


With four hours between arrival and the start of a conference equals opportunity time -- take advantage of the 80-degree weather and squeeze in one last long climb in 2010.

Palomar Mountain, featured in the queen stage of the 2009 Tour of California, climbs more than 5000 feet. It's 21 switchbacks earn it the nickname, "the Alpe d'Huez of California."

The grades are above 7% for 16 miles and don't let up.

Here's a first-hand look at the climb...

Assault on Mount Palomar from Jon McNeill on Vimeo.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Probably the Most Fun I've Ever had on a Bicycle


Cyclocross is the fastest growing niche in bike racing -- combining the best of road and mountain biking with a little bit of hurdles thrown in. 45 minutes of all out racing from the gun. A great way to stay in shape during the fall. Also a great spectator sport in that courses are at local parks and weave so much that you can see the entire course by standing in the middle.

I work out on my 'cross bike a lot, just haven't raced. JB and Stan gave me just the nudge I needed to get back on the Cyclocross bike after Leadville.

I tried it a couple of times years back. My only hesitation in doing it again was the harsh reality of the lung-buster nature of this style of racing -- going from a standing heart rate to 170 in about 20 seconds. Those kinds of thoughts tend to keep me in bed.

OK, so what better place to start that a national level race? Gloucester hosts one of the country' leading races with an amazing course -- right on the ocean. It's a 45 minute drive. Easy.


After a quick warm up lap, lesson #1 learned for the first timer: start order is based on number. 125 riders and I had the 120th number. Welcome to the back row. Given that, my goal switched from trying to top 10 to maximizing the number of racers I could pass.

The start went right into an off-camber descent and a 180 degree turn. Elbows were flying -- made mountain biking seem downright polite. Stan was right at the first corner and yelled, "Be Smart." He was right on the money, guys were crashing everywhere.

Right from the corkscrew turn we flew across some pavement and into a double sand pit -- that again crashed a lot of guys out right away and clogged up the course.


Then onto a twisting course, up and down, lots of 180s and some long straightaways. Went by my first guy a he gave me a bump. Racing with contact -- I guess 100th place is serious business.

I started to pass a bunch of people. It was a blast. Lots of tricky off-camber corners and power climbs. Only one set of barriers (I've got a lot of technique to learn). I started to feel like I was really making progress when I reached the carbon wheel, skinsuit crowd (my bike looked like a clunker in comparison).


Although staying upright was priority one, I crashed hard in the 3rd lap, rolling a tire in the process. The front wheel was making a funny sound after that as grass was sticking out from under the tire.

The crowd was huge and encouraging ("pick off those two guys in front of you, go!"). Folks I didn't even know were into it.

I managed to pass 10-15 guys on the last lap and almost crashed as I tried to impress Stan with a last-corner sprint.


By the end, I'd moved up almost 70 slots. Had so much fun, I came home and signed up for next weekend in Providence!

Might have finally found my niche in cycling: no climb over 20 feet, lot's of sprinting, elbows, technical sections and cold beer and warm waffles at the end. This has my name written all over it!

Video here:


Monday, September 6, 2010

Green Mountain Stage Race 2010


The (maybe) final hurrah of the summer cycling season comes every Labor Day at the Green Mountain Stage Race in Vermont's Mad River valley. In this neck of the woods, that means lots of climbing.

Tale of the Tape: 70 miles, 5 climbs, ~5500 feet of climbing, VERY windy.

We had a great team of cheerleaders at the base of the first climb -- we needed it as the climb started as soon as the neutral section ended. Not exactly a great way to warm up!

On E. Warren Road, Granville Gulch and the Middlebury Gap, I kept looking around saying to myself, "what the heck am I doing in the lead group after all this climbing?" I went to the back of the pack in Granville to talk to our guys and found only a group of 35 or so left and five of our gang were in the chase group. Bummer!

Alicia provided amazing support to the gang. She managed to hand up bottles to a team of 9 folks at the feed.

The stars finally came back in alignment for me 1k from the top of Middlebury, and the dropping occurred. Thom and I dangled just off the back of the lead group for the last 1k to the top. We chased all the way down, but couldn’t close a ¼ mile gap.

We spent a lot of time in no-man’s land between the lead group and what we thought would be a big chase group that would ultimately scoop us up. A strong tail wind helped a ton and it wasn’t that bad to ride the backside alone (although we lost some serious time to the lead group).

Thom was a minute or two ahead of me the whole way -- we were both cruising alone, just out of sight of each other thanks to the bends in the road. I didn’t see anyone until Mike Moran chugged up from behind me on the Notch and we rode the dirt together (the kid has a fat tire future – he can fly on the dirt).

Mike lost a pedal on the first climb and chased his way back into the race by riding solo most of the way (into a headwind for a good chunk of it).

Meanwhile up at Steve was not only hanging with the lead pack, he was driving the pace and ended up finishing 4th on the day. Nice.

Steve turning himself inside out.

A (very) cold rain on the App Gap was the only downer in a great day.

Your's truly, crossing the line in a photo finish with myself.


AT gutting out the 18% grade to the finish. It's a killer last 3ks, all above 10%.

The Mayor crosses the line to the applause of his fans.

It was freezing at the top. Here's a remnant of the gang trying to stay warm in 50 degrees and 40 mile an hour winds.

Andy had a cheering section who chalked the road for him.

This is a GREAT event, a great course and one the whole group should do again next year -- what a way to end the summer.



Monday, August 23, 2010

“It often doesn’t finish how it starts.” Leadville 100 2010



Sorry for the delay, no long plane flights over the past week to get this done – until today. From seat 12D, here’s the skinny on Leadville 2010…

The goal: 104 miles, 12,700 feet of climbing, all above 10,000 feet. Do it in less than 12 hours and you’ve got yourself a silver buckle.

This Leadville was almost perfect. Almost. The travel out was perfect, the biked arrived, we arrived, met my dad at the airport, and we got to Leadville without a hitch. The weather was perfect – sunny skies and temps in the 70s during the day, 30s at night (we’re sleeping at 10,500 feet – about the height of Everest base camp).

The number of entrants has tripled since my first Leadville four years ago, so that means an early morning on race day to get a slot as close to the front as possible. If not, the price may be walking the first climb if you get stuck behind a crowd.

Not a problem for Kent as he’s a top finisher and guaranteed a slot in the first row. It’s a star-studded event up there with a who’s-who of pros as the race gains in popularity.

However, the rest of the Omaha gang (with a Boston adoptee) got up about 430a to hit the start line about 515a. The guys were genius – they parked our van at the corner of the start so we could stay warm while the temps hovered in the mid-30s.

The start went great – we picked a line up the side, and passed A TON of people. Hands felt numb as we descended to the base of the first climb. Looked down and temp gauge said 27 degrees. Haven’t felt that since January!

Made great time over the first two climbs and started descending the 2nd climb and was right behind a huge crash. Over a dozen riders and one injured badly (turns out several surgeons were in his group and saved his life -- he's recovering in a Denver hospital and will be fine thanks to the immediate care he received on the trail from fellow racers). That sobered all of us up.

A guy who I'd get to know as "Denver Mike" came up behind me, asked me how many kids I had and if I wanted to see them again (hmm, where is this going?). If so, follow his wheel and he’d get us down the most treacherous part of the descent in one piece.

Sign me up!

Someone caught this pic at the bottom of the descent -- treacherous part done. Denver Mike and I traded life stories over the next 15 miles.

Hit the first aid station (Kerri runs a great show) and hit the split for 10.5 hours total time right on the nose. Psyched.

Sag-chief extraordinaire Connor was quarterbacking the second rest stop at the base of the big climb – up to 12,700 feet at the Columbine Mine. Connor had everybody’s splits and my food ready to go. Kent was hanging at the front, Lebo just ahead of



me. No sign of Jim yet. Knowing he’d catch me on the way up, I hit the climb.

On the flanks of the climb, the leaders where coming at me after their turnaround. First Levi Leipheimer (holy small human) and then JHK, Todd Wells, Wiens, Tinker, etc. The climb went well – I get woozy at the same spot each year just below the tree line. Just in time for Jim to come up behind me doing his Forrest Gump routine. I was in no mood. ;)

Just above the tree line, the trail gets steep and rough – softball sized strewn rocks rough. With racers descending, there are no rideable lines, so the hike-a-bike starts 3 miles from the top. To add to the mental challenge, you can see a long string of riders hiking to a long-ways-away peak.

Whether it’s road or mountain, there’s a random experience in nearly all of these races.

Somehow two yahoos manage to get a beat up old station wagon, a grill and a sound system up there. Blaring 70s rock echos out behind a sign that reads, “Free PBRs and Hot Dogs”. Huh?

All of the sudden a guy in a tux appears with a tray of hot dogs and beer. “Come on, you want one!”

“Buddy, I’ll hurl if I have a hot dog up here. I’m dying.” But I’m laughing out loud.

This is when the hordes of people in the race this year begin to make a difference. Folks are hiking slowly and there’s no room to pass.

The top eventually comes and Jim coming right at me as I’m coming into the turnaround. There’s a ½ mile climb out of the turnaround before the descent starts. I bark out something - this time, he’s in no mood for my humor.

The descent goes great, Denver Mike and I ride it down together and I’m back for Connor’s feed tracking an hour ahead of last year’s time. Feeling really great.

Got to shout out to Lisa Lebovitz out supporting Steve – it’s a LONG day for all of these volunteers. She'd already been out there for 6 hours when I passed on the return.

Took off, got to the feed at mile 72, still way ahead of last year’s buckle time and feeling strong. I took on a fresh Camelbak and headed towards the soul-breaker of the day -- the 25% plus ramps of the Powerlines.

Up to the base of the Powerlines, feeling great, ride the bottom until it’s too steep to ride and join the hikers.

All of the sudden, my race comes apart. A pain shoots through my gut and I’m doing what I told the hot dog vendor I wouldn’t do: I’m hurling uncontrollably. It came on like a lightening bolt. Every few steps. “What is happening? Why now? All of this training. Argh.”

I can’t ride, all I can do is hike and lean over the edge of the trail. I can’t keep any liquid down. That’s not good in these conditions – it’s hot out and we’re on an exposed face.

It’s never happened before, but my legs cramp while WALKING. My quads are seizing about every dozen steps. Once so fast I literally fall over.

At that point I remembered Mike Moran’s amazing grit in walking up Alpe d’Huez on a 100 degree day a couple of years ago at the Etape -- crippled by cramps, just to make the finish under his own power. Mike’s one of the strongest guys you’ll run across on a bike. Thanks for the inspiration Mike!

I ended up walking the whole climb. Knowing I had a second big climb coming, I was worried. How do you finish the last 3 hours of a 12 hour race without any food or water? Not good.

I descended Hagerman’s pass down to the paved road, pulled out a gel and tried to force it down. No luck. Almost dropped out there, but for the encouragement of a race worker who looked at me without any sympathy and just said, “keep going.”

Oh boy. Reached the base of Turquoise lake and the clock reads 10:20. There goes my target. Three guys are sitting on a rock at the base of the climb, looking up numbers in the race guide and calling riders by name. “Alright Jon! You can make it dude! 2.5 miles to the aid station, 4 miles to the top. Go!”

I pedaled hard and reached the aid station at 10:50. Knowing that it was an hour from this point to the finish, hope for a buckle sprang up again.

Aid station workers rushed up – “what do you need?”

“Got any Sprite?”

“Yeah, just a second.”

Sprite inhaled and then Vesuvius immediately strikes again. This is one-heck of a weight loss program!

After five up-chucks in a row, the medical doc comes over and presents me with a choice: stay here and wait 3 hours for the course to clear or try to make it on your own.

I was worried about Connor at the finish. No cell coverage up here to let him know. I could see him at the line worrying as the clock turned closer to twelve hours, so decided to trudge on. Another mile and a half of walk-riding, finally to the top and am now cramping on the descents!

Now onto the flats and just eight miles to go, but only 30 minutes to do it. I try to dig for 16 mph, but am totally empty. My luck runs out at the base of the final boulevard climb (2-3 miles) where I just can’t turn the pedals faster than 10mph.

Luckily, Rick Sanders from Omaha is there. He’s been battling his own private hell with mechanicals that have sapped his day.

Rick offers to pace me in. “No, Rick, go on ahead, you don’t have to wait for me in slow-mo mode here.”

He insists. I pedal, cramp, stop. Repeat. Rich just encourages. An awesome showing of friendship.

We finally get to the edge of town and the up-chucking feeling returns. Embarrassed, I have to hop off of the bike for the last riser by the high school.

There are three silhouettes at the top of the rise. Kent, Connor and my little niece Ellie.

Kent finished in under 8 hours and has been out running and pushing 150 riders over this hill. He’s one of the most unselfish sportsman I’ve ever seen. Waiting until the last rider in our group crosses each year.

Rick and I mount up for the last ½ mile and get a great push from Connor, Kent and Ellie.

We cross the line together, completely rung out in 1230. No buckle, but a medal.

In the last 28 miles, I’d gone from a hour up on my time to an hour down. Holy melt down.

We crossed the line and the sickness returned. John DeTore was there alongside my Dad, Chris, and Kent -- they literally carried me into the medical tent.

The docs re-hydrated me over the next 90 minutes and the creepy crawlies that snuck into my Camelbak let me go later that night.

Thanks Dad, Connor, Rick, Kent, Chris, Kerri (awesome crew), Rita, Jim, Ellie, Dillon and Lowell. You all rock.

Other than switching to bottles from a Camelbak, not much to do differently. The bike was great and the race was great up until the last feed. Partially, I do these races to see where my limits are. Boy, did I get a close-up of that this year.

Three for three finishes at Leadville, one buckle. I’ve officially retired (at least for now).

Got to go, time for a Hot Dog and a PBR.

Now, if you aren't asleep yet and want to read the story of a really tough guy -- read this friend of Steve's account:

Thursday, Aug. 19, 2010
Wiedmer: Flying by the seat of his pants



Most of us would love to set or break a sports record. Be it Barry Bonds’ 762 major league career homers, the late Wilt Chamberlain’s 100-point NBA game or Brett Favre’s un-retirements, a record isn’t just made to be broken, it can sometimes break down barriers between generations.

Then there’s the cycling record local attorney Jamey Hurst set this past weekend during a mountain bike race in Colorado.

“I set the new course record for the most miles ever ridden in the Leadville Trail 100 without a seat,” said Hurst on Wednesday. “Twenty miles.”

That’s not 20 miles total, standing up the whole time, draining as that sounds. Those 20 miles came early. Hurst actually rode 79 miles after those 20 he peddled before he was sorta/kinda/somewhat able to re-attach his seat.

“The bolt holding my seat to the seat-post broke,” explained the 41-year-old Hurst. “The seat popped off between my legs. I pulled off of the trail and tried every McGyver trick conceivable to hold the seat on. I unscrewed every non-essential bolt. I tried twisty ties; tying it on with my arm warmers; and wedging it on the seat post. Nothing worked. By the time I realized my efforts were futile, the entire field was completely out of sight.”

Yet he somehow peddled on, riding literally by the seat of his pants, which might be one reason close friend Brad Cobb — who finished the race more than two hours before Hurst — said afterward, “He’s such a hardhead, he wouldn’t quit.”

It had been a humbling weekend for Cobb and Hurst long before he lost his seat, thanks to a previously secret accident that became public last Friday.

Two years ago — while riding in the Cohutta (Ga.) 100 ultra mountain bike race — the two met Floyd Landis, the disgraced Tour de Fraud winner who was then attempting to say his positive drug tests at the Tour de France were a mistake.

Having befriended Landis at the Cohutta event, Cobb and Hurst offered to bring his bike to him for the next race in Ohio, since they were also racing there. Landis thanked them and told them he’d see both them and the bike in a few days.

But on the drive from Chattanooga to Ohio — despite tightly securing the Landis ride to a specialized rack attached to a trailer — the rack broke somewhere north of Lexington, Ky., on Interstate 75 and the bike disappeared.

“We thought we knew pretty much where it had come off,” said Hurst, “and we searched like crazy for it for two or three hours, but we never found it.”

A few weeks ago someone working on a Kentucky highway clean-up crew found the bike and sold it to Greg Estes of Owenton, Ky., for $5. When he began researching it and found out it had once belonged to Landis, it became a national story, complete with Landis revealing the names of Cobb and Hurst to a couple of New York City journalists.

“Contrary to what some people said — not the New York Daily News writers, but others — Landis was great about the whole thing,” said Cobb. “He could have cared less. We called him as soon as it happened. When we got to Ohio, he bought us a beer and we went out to dinner.”

Still, by the time the Leadville race started on Saturday, Hurst, Cobb and fellow Chattanooga rider Stephen Lebovitz were ready to put the Landis story behind them.

At least until Hurst’s seat broke.

“The Leadville’s an out and back course,” said Cobb. “So on my way back, going 25 miles an hour, I pass Jamey, who’s going about two miles an hour up a mountain. I was like, ‘What happened to him?’”

At that point, what hadn’t happened? His seat had broken before the 103-mile course was five miles done, he had raced the 20 miles without a seat, thinking all matter of thoughts, most of them bad.

There were obvious anatomical considerations — “Fortunately, my wife and I have quit having children,” laughed the father of Eliza (10), Colmore (8) and Adelaide (6) — but how long could he continue without a seat?

“I had a choice, ride back to the start or see how far I could make it with no seat,” said Hurst. “I chose option B. My plan was to make it to the first crew-supported aid station at about mile 30 and quit.”

But then he started passing racers, many of whom incredulously shouted, “Dude, where’s your (expletive) seat?”

Said Hurst, “I must have heard ‘Dude’ 1,000 times.”

But he also heard a couple named Justin and Becka ask if they could help. They promised to take his seat down the mountains, get it fixed and meet him at the aid station, which they did.

But that was just the beginning. Already three hours and 15 minutes into the race, Hurst had to reach the bottom of the Columbine Climb in 45 minutes or be pulled from the course, since anyone who’s taken four hours to go that far is deemed unfit to finish the race.

“To be honest, I welcomed the prospect of being timed out,” Hurst e-mailed friends earlier this week, including the Bubbas, a local cycling group he rides with on weekends. “If I missed the cut off, I could avoid the torture of an 8-plus mile climb into thin air. Even if I made the cut off, how could I make the climb? I was spent.”

Somehow he made the cutoff, his computer showing a time of 3:59. But then he fell off his bike, which caused “an embarrassing temper tantrum in which I tossed my bike into the brush.”

Yet for some reason he got back on and kept riding. And riding. And riding, eventually passing more than 1,000 bikers to finish in a respectable 10:46, good for 532nd place, though well behind Cobb and Lebovitz.

And greeting him at the finish was everyone from Brad and Stephen, to the Good Samaritans Justin and Becka, to his wife Louisa — whom he’d cursed at the 30-mile aid station for asking if he was OK.

“I told her I loved her and gave her a kiss,” he said of reaching her at the finish line.

Cobb gave him the dreaded “Frog,” an ugly little ceramic figure for whichever finishes last among the trio.

Then it was back to the hotel, where someone asked him, “Hey, did you hear about that crazy fella who rode that race without a seat?’

Replied Hurst, “No, I missed that.”

Monday, July 26, 2010

The Big Secret

Three years ago, I was riding with some buddies in Vermont. Rides there often have a bit of gravel or dirt roads thrown into the route.

As I repeatedly flatted, I started to notice that my Vermont friends weren't flatting. In fact, they never flatted. They were early adopters of "the secret."

As a secret-holder should do, I've been mostly quiet since finding out about "the secret" -- not out of selfishness, just out of not wanting to jinx myself.

Why? Because I haven't flatted in 3 years. I feel like I'm beyond the jinx phase, or maybe deserve a flat after all of this downtime. Heck, I used to be the fastest tire-changer in our riding group. I'm so rusty that when I guy flatted on our Saturday ride, it took minutes to make the change.

The fact that "the secret" has remained a secret is baffling to me. All that are in on it, rave about it. However, the raving isn't public. They see that you know the secret and then rave. Maybe we're all scared of the jinx.

Why the companies behind "the secret" don't trumpet this more is also beyond me. They've got a killer app, but their PR machines aren't getting the message out.

What's "the secret"? Tubeless road tires. Yes, get them, say goodbye to flats. Period.

The setup is simple, although a bit tricky the first time through. All you need is sealed aluminum rims (the kind that don't show spokes when the tire and tube are removed -- Kysriums, Shimano Ultegra or Durace). Then buy a pair of Hutchinson Fusion tubeless road tires, a pair of stems, some Stan's or CaffeLatex sealant. Stan's sells the whole kit (tires, stems, sealant) to make it easy.

The total rotating weight is effectively the same as the standard tube + tire setup. The ride feels similar to a tubular in that you don't have a tube squirreling around inside the tire.

Get 'em. Say goodbye to flats.

Stan's has a great install video here: http://www.notubes.com/movie_road.php

You'll have to change the sealant every couple of months (easy) as it dries out / evaporates.

There you have it. You're in on "the secret." Say goodbye to flats.

Now I just hope I haven't jinxed myself.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Que the Barry Manilow music...


Looks like we made it! Crossing the line after 113.2 miles and 14,300 feet of climbing on an incredibly difficult course was a heck of an accomplishment for all finishers of the Pau-Tourmalet stage.
Highlights (no room for a camera today, so borrowed these):


  • Pau start was fast -- Eric and I averaged over 22mph for the first 25 miles
  • Then the climbs came -- those little bumps on the course map weren't so little
  • Hit the Marie-Blanque (9 km at 8%) at 40 miles. The last 4ks were tough - 10%+. At one point the Garmin read 15% grade for almost a 1/2 km -- no walking! although half the pack crashed just to my right as guys couldn't make the grade and suddenly clipped out.
  • The road between the Marie-Blanque and the Soulor is one of the most beautiful roads I've ever ridden, one car width wide, in a totally green valley, stream running beside the road, mountains jutting into the sky, beautiful castles overlooking the valley.
  • Soulor climb was as long as advertised -- 15km at 7%. Saved the best for last - 9-10% at the top.
  • Apparently the horses, cattle and sheep can't relieve themselves in the fields and prefer the road. It was slick and a gross descent -- doo-doo dodging.
  • Found a great group to sit in on for the 25 miles from the base of the Soulor to the base of the Tourmalet. Actually felt good enough to pull for Graham and others for 5 miles (mistake to be paid for later)
  • Group is 2 Norwegians, 2 Irish, 3 French, 2 Swiss, 2 Israelis, 1 Portuguese, 1 Slovenian and me. Where else can you get this? Hand gestures become the international language at this point.
  • Felt great climbing the 8.5 miles up to the base of the Tourmalet, then things started to unravel -- looked down and saw 100 miles on the odometer. Guess things should be unraveling.
  • To keep tradition alive, stopped and downed two Orangina's in Barreges, halfway up the climb. Waited for Eric for about 15 mins, then headed up.
  • The Tourmalet is a beast --- will be a fun stage to watch this week. 10%+ ramps out of Barreges, all the way to the top of this 2 hour+ climb
  • At 5km to go, can see the top, ramps look incredibly steep. Downright depressing. Am pushing it to maintain 5mph
  • At 4km to go, Eric appears from behind -- the mayor is conversing in French with anyone with a water bottle to pour over his head!
  • At 3km to go, accordions, drums, little kids singing and cheering take the mind away from the pain. Huge ski bowl. Would love to come back and ski it.
  • At 1km to go, dreading the looks of the steep ramp for last .5km
  • Finally on the last ramp and it's so steep that the only way up is standing climbing. It's tough
  • Crossed the finish line and more "lost breakfast" than I've ever seen. Clearly, this last section pushed people beyond their limits.

  • Eric and I skip the stale ham sandwiches and descend 18 miles back to the hotel. Total of 131 miles on the day.
  • I ate 5 plates of pasta and still went to bed hungry (but squeezed in a Pelforth)
Heids, thanks for the hall pass. Was amazing. Harder course than Alpe d'Huez stage, but cooler weather helped a ton. Kent, David, Steve, Jim and the HighGear Travel gang made it one of the smoothest trips ever. David and Kent both killed it on the day -- finishing in the first two groups up the mountain.

Now looking forward to some sleep on the plane!

Saturday, July 17, 2010

The Day Before -- showtime Tomorrow!

Last day of prep today. Trying to get everything dialed in for tomorrow as well as trying to relax.

We're doing the hardest stage of the Tour de France this year -- three climbs over the col du Marie Blanque (very steep last 3km at 10%+, up to 14%), col du Soulor (long, long climb), then 20+ miles up the gorge and then onto the Tourmalet, 18 miles up to the highest point in the Pyrenees.

That's got everyone a bit nervous, so to lighten the load, we headed into the Farmers Market (picture the Waitsfield farmers market x10 in a town about the same size). The mission -- euro capris for the guys who can pull those off (I'm not in that category). Needless to say, a lot of laughs.

Next, to Lourdes for holy water. Lourdes is an international pilgramage site for Catholics. Legend has it that the Virgin Mary appeared to a shepherd girl, and then to her priest, telling them that the waters from a spring had healing powers.

The town has a pretty special vibe and we visited to pray in the chapel and rub some of those healing waters onto our legs. The Mayor demonstrates in the video below:



Lastly, a 45 minute spin to loosen up the legs for 8 hours plus tomorrow and then pull everything together in advance of the 4a wakeup call. Big day tomorrow -- say a prayer for us!

Friday, July 16, 2010

Etape du Tour - Day Three -- Variety Day

Today was a great mix of random experiences. Started with picking Eric up from the airport, heading into Pau for a great lunch (omelette smothered in dijon mustard -- I'm telling you, it may not sound good, but it's awesome).

Then to registration to pick up our race numbers -- delayed 45 minutes waiting for the army paratroopers (insert your favorite WW2 jokes here). No idea what paratroooper's have to do with cycling...

Then a short ride today (yes, behaving ourselves). Climbed 10 miles, then descended. Went to Laurent Fignon's shop here -- amazing collection of trophies.

Dinner and then a very random experience that has me laughing on the way to bed tonight. It's captured in the video here:




Thursday, July 15, 2010

Etape du Tour - Jour Deux

For the past couple of days, my cousin Kent and his friend Steve talked up an amazing climb they'd done here in the Pyrenees a few years ago - the Pont de Espana -- literally climbing up to the Spanish border.

We made plans to drive to the base of the climb as our ride for the day. We had to take a couple of cars to get the bikes and people over (David, Kent, Jim, Steve and I). As we popped out of the cars, Kent said, "Hey, how about riding Luz Ardiden first?"

Hmmm. I'm thinking that this Pont de Espana climb might not be much of a challenge if they want to tack on another climb. Now Luz Ardiden isn't just any climb, it's a whopper with long sections at 10%. It's famously the site where Lance Armstrong's handlebars were caught by a spectators bag several years ago. He crashed hard, and then roared back to win the stage.

No such antics here today, just a beast of a long climb. The weather was great, foggy and cool all the way to the top, then the sun broke.
We descended back down to our starting point, grabbed some lunch (probably the best ham and cheese sandwich I've ever had in my life), then headed up to the Pont de Espana.

The sun has now taken over the sky -- beautiful day, but getting hot on the climb.

It starts gradually and I was hanging onto Kent's wheel. I see a sign that says 15km to the top. Hmmm. This must just be a long gradual climb. 6km later, Steve declares the gradual part of the climb over and says, "it get's a bit brutal from here."

Turns out, this was going to be a long climb.

I'm now wondering how I get myself into these messes. I ate lightly this am, thinking there was only one climb on the day. No salt tabs, no gels. 6km later, I'm in trouble. Grades are 10%+ and I'm cramping badly. I haven't had that tough of a stretch on the bike in years. The cramps would lock my left leg and mandate stopping every km or so.

Thankfully, somewhere near the top, the guys reappeared. Tired of waiting, they'd started the descent, turned around and encouraged me up the last 1/2 km. One more cramping episode and I'd finally made it.

The day ended like all good rides in France -- at a Pattisserie (pastry shop).

Tale of the tape: 51 miles, 8,000 feet of climbing.

This is definitely not tapering!

Day 2 - Video here:

Etape du Tour -- Day One Video - now up!

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

It's hard to do a bike trip...without a bike. Etape - Day One

The airlines managed to make a bike disappear. But David (our French friend and guide) had one waiting for me this morning. Amazing that he can make a carbon bike appear in just a few hours.

After breakfast, we headed out to "stretch the legs" with a two hour climb. We're surrounded by them here at the base of the Tourmalet in the Pyrenees.

I've wanted to climb the Aspin (famous TdF climb) for years. David suggested a twist. It turned out to be a great twist. Captured some of the video here tomorrow (when upload finishes).

Monday, July 12, 2010

Etape du Tour 2010 - starts here

Day one: just landed in Madrid en route to Toulouse. Sea of Red jerseys here, horns blowing in airport at 7a. Felicidades Espana!

Early morning TV showing Running of the Bulls. I think the Etape looks way smarter than that mid-life crisis exercise. Can't wait for first pan almond + Orangina.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Cycling Killarney - Molls Gap to Gap of Dunloe


This has been an amazing week. Start with skate skiing at the local track, board a flight to Arizona and sneak in Mount Lemmon on Monday, arrive home at 2a on Friday, laundry, repack and out the door to accompany the girls to Ireland for the Irish Dance Championships.

Given that the Ritchey was still in the car, why not bring along the bike to the airport? Actually, it was a bit easier than that. I'm not exactly invited to the pre-competition practices (something about having a challenge keeping my incessant questions to myself). It's been made clear to me that insights on wigs, makeup, etc. aren't in my wheelhouse.

What's a guy to do? Sneak in a ride (hee, hee, hee). So headed out Sunday, Valentines Day afternoon for a ride down Lovers Lane.

I'd mistakenly thought that Ireland was flat to rolling. How wrong I was. As we pulled into the hotel in Killarney, that became abundantly clear (pic above). Staying literally across the street from the Killarney National Park and at the base of the Molls Gap -- I found a highly recommended route on mapmyride.com over two gaps.

I don't think I've seen more amazing scenery on a ride and luckily had the video cam along. Apologies in advance for the ground shots (still getting the hang of climbing one-handed, dodging cars, potholes and shooting at the same time).

The ride turned into a bit of an adventure of navigation -- had no idea that I'd be riding a cartpath and leaning on a local shepherd for directions (queue the "Deliverance" theme).




On the way into the competition yesterday, another guy and I witnessed a very minor fender bender. Turns out that he was a cyclist and had been out the day before also -- riding the 107 mile Ring of Kerry. He gave me about a half dozen hard sportive style ride suggestions. Guys -- a trip over here to ride is definitely in order!

Perfect Etape substitution and or Training!

PS -- the competition was also amazing and our girl did us Very proudly!

Monday, February 15, 2010

Etape du Tour Training starts with a kicker - Climbing Tucson's Mount Lemmon





Breaking some ribs in early January meant a lot of time training indoors (falling was a no-no and apparently the basement is the safest place not to fall). That meant my ski racing season was bye-bye, but I finally got cleared to skate ski the first week of February.

Skate skiing last Saturday gave way to a flight to Tucson on Sunday to host our annual client conference. One of our guests, Tom McAleer was up for some riding, so I brought the trusty Ritchey Breakaway (can't say enough about travelling with this bike).

Now there are golfers who carry a top 100 courses list and look to play them all before they kick the bucket. Crazy enough, cyclists also have lists like that. There's a top 50 climbs list that I carry in my briefcase. Only a handful are in the US. One of the top climbs in the world is in Tucson - Mount Lemmon -- and rises from the desert floor to 9100' over 25 miles. There's ski resort at the top (how many places can you golf, ride and ski in the same day?) that's boasting a 60" base right now.

Tom and I met before dawn to make our way to the base. The hotel bell captain was a former mountain bike pro and all smiles as we headed towards the car with road bikes and hopes of getting to the top. "Ice may be the only thing that stops you guys, but you'll have a blast."

Hmmm.

We made it to the base and started climbing -- 6-7% right from the start. Now I haven't ridden outside for almost two months and this was quite a wake up call. Not to mention, I'd forgotten to throw climbing gears on the bike -- this ride was going to go the hard way right from the start.
It was about 40 degrees in the valley when the sun started to rise and we climbed steadily to about 4000' of elevation at milepost 10 (just like Europe, you get the reverse torture of knowing just how far it is to the top). That's when we hit the snow-line.

As the sun had melted the snow a bit the day before, it had drained across the road and frozen into 3 foot wide sheets of black ice. After spinning out once, we learned not to pedal, just build some momentum and let the bike roll as these came up every couple of hundred yards. The climb from there on up was freezing -- in the mid to low twenties -- definitely well below Schlager standards.

This was beautiful though. The views were amazing. Pure alpine environment. It's comparable in scenery to climbing Independence Pass outside of Aspen. Two differences though -- Lemmon gains about 2000' more altitude over the same distance AND they keep the road open in the winter.

We hit 5000' feet at mile 12 and had to get off of the bikes every couple of hundred yards as the ice patches were getting wider. At mile fourteen, the sign was up across the road, "Chains and 4x4 required past this point." Apparently 9" of snow had fallen the night before and apparently our IQ had fallen with it -- neither Tom nor I was going to be the first to volunteer to give up the chase.

We climbed up to 6000' at mile 15 and I looked up the road and saw Tom off his bike, on a ice patch, looking like a deer on a frozen lake (limbs and bike flailing everywhere). I was the first to break down -- "T, if we're killing ourselves going up, it's going to be impossible to stay up going down."

So we turned, but not before taking some pics. Just over 2 hours and 15 miles of climbing.



The descent was murder for the first mile and a half -- three quarters of the time off the bike, grabbing the guard rail so we didn't slip on the ice. Once below 4000', it was a blast.

We left the last 10 miles on the bucket list. Will come back when the temps are above freezing!

What a way to start the 2010 training season though.