On an incredibly long conference call on Thursday, my mind wondered off to pro cycling and I wanted to check on Coloradan Tom Danielson’s shoulder injury so I cruised on over to his website at http://www.tomdanielson.com.  I’d been there before but missed the link down on the lower left hand corner that said "Hill Climb Records."   Thie first one listed was Cheyenne Canyon which he’d set the record for in 2006.  I’d heard about this one before, I remember reading about it in VeloNews a few years back in a story about Bobby Julich’s preparation for the 1998 Tour (where he finished 3rd).  I thought it was in Arizona.

Hmmm.  Reading, reading, HOLY CRAP, this is not only in Colorado Springs but less than five miles away from my house!!

My attention immediately left the call (as if it were ever there) and I began pouring over topographical maps of the area and Google Earth.  I couldn’t believe it.  Here is a climb just a few short minutes from where I live that all the best pros, Armstrong, Hamilton, Hincapie, Vaughters, Landis, Danielson, Julich and many more come to test themselves.  I read real documented notes of their times.  I quickly shot off an e-mail to Amy advising her of the field trip we were going to go on as soon as I got home.  I left a few minutes later (it was about 3 pm).

The recon drive up the 3 mile mountain was a little intimidating but I knew I could do it.  The average gradient is 8.5% with two small pitches above 18% and the road was really narrow.  The elevation tops out at 7.680 feet.  I was more concerned about the descent than the climb (my bike is old and it sucks).  Friday was to be the day.

When I woke up, the first conscious thought I had was about the mountain.  I seriously doubt if 3 consecutive minutes passed where I didn’t pay it some thought.  I set the time in my head for 4 pm.  The hours dragged on but once noon passed, I found myself getting noticeably nervous.  I hadn’t climbed anything like this, even in my junior years and if I had, it definitely wasn’t anywhere close to this altitude (even though I consider myself to be completely acclimatized).  Doubts popped into my head like "it’s supposed to be a rest day" or "damn, it’s kinda windy" or "crap, I can’t find my lucky cycling jersey" but I knew I would obsess about it for weeks if I didn’t just do it.

Ok, this is getting boring so let’s get to the climb.

North Cheyenne Canyon Climb (click for a larger version)
Download the Google Earth .kmz file from me HERE.

Mile 1

My plan was to warm up for at least 20 minutes and get the HR to 165 for at least 5 minutes.  I wanted some sting in my legs so they knew what to expect but I just couldn’t wait.  No fewer than three minutes after I got out of my car, my heart rate was 177 and I was in my 39×23.  There was a head wind for the first half mile until I entered the canyon deeper and my speed noticeably improved.  My brain overrode my body’s will however and I eased off a bit since I’d never been up this thing outside of a car.  I passed through the first mile in a little over 9 minutes.

Mile 2

The first real pitch above 8 % comes right after the first mile and I was down to my last gear, 39×25; I was going to have to stay here until I reached the summit.  Mile 1 to 1.5 was rather uneventful, I’d say 8-9% most of the way with one .10 level stretch that only destroyed my rhythm.  Right at the 1.5 mark, I rounded a corner and was unexpectedly hit by what felt to be a wall.  The pitch was tremendous and through a left hand curve, did everything I could do to remain upright.  I was standing, hunched over the front of my bike because if I’d sat down, I surely would have fallen backwards, it was that steep.  At this point, I was going about 3 mph and dangerously close to falling over.  My back was killing me from putting everything I had into every stroke and in an attempt to stay upright, I gave it 100% and in the process lifted my front wheel up and slightly to the right.  I have no idea how I didn’t land on my side.  The first thoughts of stopping entered into my mind.  I could not take many more feet of this let alone a mile and a half.  Somehow I got through it (HR was 196 at this point) when I turned a right switchback and I settled down to a blazing 7 mph at 185 bpm.  But instead of hitting the throttle again, I held back thinking there was just more of that to come.  I hit mile 2 in 18 minutes and 20 seconds.

Mile 3 and The End

Once I saw 2.10 on the trip meter, I started to feel better and knew that regardless of what lay ahead, it would at most be 10 minutes of suffering.  One more corner and I saw the parking lot for Helen Hunt Falls, one of the few things I remembered from the recon trip the day before.  This sight gave me unimaginable confidence as I knew that wasn’t too far from the summit so I dropped down to my 39×23, stood and gunned it.  9% seemed like nothing now and I got goose bumps going into and coming out of the French Alps style switchbacks.  I knew the biggest pitch lay ahead but there was only 2.0 after that and even if I were completely anaerobic (which I was surely to be) I could make that.   That last hairpin switchback was steeper than I had anticipated but the knowledge of the end propelled me up.  I hadn’t looked at the computer since 2.10 miles and was crushed when I saw 29:01.  Danielson would have been able to climb it, descend and climb it again, passing me before I hit Helen Hunt Falls.  Sure, I’m over 90 pounds heavier and my bike is 4.5 heavier than his but I was not going to be able to go home, kiss Amy and pet the dogs and cats with a performance like that.  So I did it again.

View from the top

I’ll spare you from all the details of the second ride except that I went much harder during the first mile and a half which made all the difference as I finished in 24:44.  I knocked almost five minutes off my first attempt though I think a majority of that was from the good warm-up (HA!) that I had before.

Let’s compare my best performance of 24:44 to that of some people you might know:

1) Tom Danielson:  13:34
2) Lance Armstrong:  14:11
3) Bobby Julich:  14:58
4) Danny Pate:  14:27
5) Mike Creed:  14:50

I SUCK.  I weigh 232 now and it will be interesting to test myself on this monster as I get lighter and my fitness improves.

When I first received a call from the Verizon recruiter last November and found out the position was in Colorado Springs, one of the first things I thought of was Mt. Evans (14,264 feet). Though at least 90 minutes from Colorado Springs and about 50 miles west of Denver, I knew instantly that I’d be close enough to participate in the annual Bob Cook Memorial Mt. Evans Hill Climb, a 28.3 mile race that gains 6,725 feet. Not that I was anywhere near racing shape but I could take care of that.

Mt. Evans and I go way back to one of the first memories I have about deciding to want to race competitively. I went to Kroger’s grocery with my mom one afternoon and bought a copy of Bicycling Magazine after some guy told me that I should race after I rode a couple of miles with him on my bike route. I knew nothing about competitive cycling at the time but was fascinated about a story of a race that climbed up to the top of a real mountain (we didn’t even have hills in Ohio). A few months prior, the family had taken a vacation out to Colorado and I remember flying over some of those snow capped peaks and couldn’t imagine cyclists racing up to the top. I distinctly remember thinking that I would definitely ride that race someday.

I had a pretty successful career as a junior (especially without a coach), going to Nationals and still hold the Jr. 20 kilometer time trial record for the Midwest region (lol). But life got in the way and I never raced to my full potential, let alone do a race like the Evans hill climb.

In 2000, I got out of the banking business and into technology with a job at Qwest. Qwest, based in Denver, required quite a bit of travel prior to their purchase of U.S. West. And bam, there Evans was, staring at me from the office windows. I managed to take a trip up to the top and was certain that I’d be moving out there in just a few months. Well, that didn’t happen and I ended up moving to Seattle instead. But every July, I stayed glued to the Internet for updates on The Tour De France and the Bob Cook Evans Hill Climb.

So now I’m within two hours of the mountain and my bike is in my garage. Last Saturday, I took a recon trip and got some serious goose bumps when I saw the first signs for the Evans road. There were lots of riders on the road but the route was impassible above Summit Lake (12,830 feet) due to snow. I hung around the lake for about 3 hours seeing if I would be affected by the altitude which I wasn’t. The road up to the lake looked in excellent condition and I took tons of notes on the way down, counting the switchbacks, noting the grades and the altitude every half mile.

When I finally do race up her in July of next year, I’ll be shooting for 2 hours and 30 minutes. The race is basically a time trial (something I always did extremely well at) and though I’m night the lightest climber out there, I think I can make up for it with my ability to concentrate and suffer for extended periods. The all time record of 1 hour 41 minutes and 20 seconds was set in 2004 by Tom Danielson who now rides for the Discovery Channel Professional Cycling Team.   1:41:20 is insanely fast when you consider the previous record was 1:53:39 and had been raced by all the top U.S. professionals except Lance Armstrong.  The course profile is unrelenting with the only brief respite coming at Summit Lake before the grade jumps up an average of 16% for the last 3 miles. 

I’ll probably make 3 or 4 more recon trips this year and if I’m lucky take a few recon rides though I’ll need to meet someone at the top because I’m sure as hell not going to ride down that mountain.  The mountain is the first thing I think of everyday I wake up and I’m constantly checking the weather conditions up on top. In the meantime, I’ve got some serious work to do on the bike.

I think one of the main reasons I’ve moved around so much career-wise is that I constantly struggle with writing new comedic material.

During a very stressful conference call at work where one of the projects that can’t fail is failing (and that I’m 100% responsible for) I uttered and very nonchalantly “It looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.”  I’d say in a room of 20, half got the semi-obscure reference and the other half just wrote me off forever professionally.

If you’ve never seen Airplane, I highly recommend it.  It’s given me so much material over the years that I feel guilty I don’t send monthly royalty checks to the Zucker brothers.  I can only say that line once so I make sure it’s in a very stressful situation with lots of people who are scared stiff.  Sometimes it loosens everyone up and sometimes it gets me written up (as happened at AT&T Wireless) where I was forced to take a drug test that some week (I passed).  It’s always been a winner though.

A few of my others are:
1) “Jesus, that’s more than I make in a whole week” (uttered quietly but just loud enough for someone close to me can hear after hearing a shocking dollar amount for a hardware purchase- more effective if you have lower paid subordinates around you).

2) Can we meet on Wednesday instead? I have to meet with my parole officer instead.  (said in a muted tone when a boss or superior is listening a little too closely to my cell phone conversation).

3) “I haven’t felt that awful since we watched that John Holmes film” (Another slightly altered line from Airplane again and uttered after I’ve come back from a sick day and tired of people asking me how I felt.  I’ve never seen a John Holmes film (no, I’m not linking- google yourself…) but it always gets me some very strange looks.

Often, it’s not about the material but more about the delivery. The second someone thinks your trying to be funny, you’re not. And never, ever, laugh, smile or make contact after jokes like these. 90% of the joke is making people think you’re serious and really like that. Seriously though, I need to get some new material…

(As recorded by my Garmin GPS V)
Miles: 2,591.44
Moving Time: 42 hours 58 minutes 33 seconds
Stopped Time: 3 hours 53 minutes 27 seconds
Maximum Speed: 82.5 Miles Per Hour (East of Green River, Utah)
Average Speed: 55.34 Miles Per Hour
Maximum elevation: 11,588 feet (just west of the Eisenhower Tunnel in Colorado)
Minimum elevation: 158 feet (1 mile east of my house in Fall City)
Nights In Hotels: 3 (two in Salt Lake City, UT and one in Limon, CO)
States: Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois and Indiana
Speeding Tickets: 0

The Route On Google Maps

Option 1:

I-90 East through Montana, North Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin and Illinois. I’d have less mountain passes to cross but Eastern Montana and North Dakota have some awfully long stretches of lonely road.

Option 2:

I-84 SE through Oregon, Idaho, Salt Lake City, Denver and the rest of the way on I-70. Lots of mountains here but the weather next week will be great and I’m much more familiar with this territory. This will be my likely route with a sleep over just outside of Denver.

Thoughts? Suggestions?