Last
year’s Mt. Washington Century was the final
ride for our four-man cycling cohort before Jay moved to Florida. This
year, with Jay gone and Noah out of service, it was just my buddy Paul
and I.
Things looked foreboding beforehand. A week before the ride, I
smashed a toe, and Paul crashed when another rider went down in front of
him. The forecast was ominous, too. The day before the
ride, Boston hit 99 degrees on the sixth day of a heat wave which was
predicted to break on Saturday (the day of the ride) with severe
thunderstorms and wind. I posted a half-joking inquiry to Facebook about
how much protection bicycle helmets offered against hailstones.
Friday evening we left Boston and made our way to
New Hampshire, stopping for supper in Ossipee at the proverbial
Yankee Smokehouse & Wild Hog
Pizzeria, where I had a rack of baby back ribs and some (frozen,
imported) corn on the cob. Leaving the restaurant, Paul and I watched
frequent lightning flashes amongst the black clouds above the mountain
peaks before us.
Arriving in North Conway, I checked us in while Paul
started unloading our bikes. The check-in was smooth and easy, unlike
last year when we struggled with a lost reservation. We rolled the bikes
safely into our room, but by the time we’d turned around to go
fetch our bags, a huge (but brief) downpour had come through. We’d
been lucky to reach the hotel and get the bikes inside before the storm
hit, but would our luck hold through Saturday’s
ride? It didn’t seem likely.
After a quick convenience store run, we turned in, but not before I
received an email from my angel sponsor letting me know
that after resolving his employment issue, he was doubling his already
prodigious donation to
my PMC
ride. That pretty much ensures that this year I will set a new
fundraising record, which is completely unexpected, and guarantees that
I’ll surpass my $100,000 lifetime fundraising goal next year. It
was a heartening boost to my morale on a day that was (literally)
overshadowed by darkening storm clouds!
Saturday morning we were up at 5am, on the road at
6am, and signed in and ready to ride at 7am, a half hour earlier than
last year’s very late start. For the first time, the organizers
were offering
Mt. Washington
Century cycling jerseys, and I was thinking of picking one
up until I got to registration, where I learned that apparently
I’d pre-ordered one back when I registered for the ride, and it
was there waiting for me. Nice!
So we set out following a bunch of guys in Harpoon B2B jerseys up the
Kancamagus Highway, following the rocky Swift River
toward its source, accompanied by the musky smell of hot pine needles
and the acrid tang of wood smoke campfires cooking breakfast. Despite
the fact that it was only 70 degrees and we were riding at a very easy
pace, the humidity was ridiculous and sweat was already pouring off my
arms in rivulets, which would continue all day long.
As we reached the start of the climb up to Bear
Notch, another daylong pattern revealed itself: Paul and I
would ride together for a while, but then he’d go on ahead and
I’d ride solo, catching up to him at each rest stop, which were
spaced about 20 miles apart.
The Bear Notch climb was pretty manageable, and the descent is simply
marvelous. I didn’t push the downhill and was surprised that the
new bike didn’t descend as quickly as my old one. At the base of
the pass I pulled into the first water stop exactly on my predicted time
at 8:20am. One down, two to go!
The second segment was a long but very scenic climb up and over
Crawford Notch. Although the morning had been partially
sunny, dark clouds closed in, a bit of headwind kicked in, and it
started sprinkling just as I reached the brutal last couple miles of the
climb. But the shower had passed by 9:45am, when I pulled into the rest
stop at Bretton Woods. I think Paul was a little
dismayed when I told him that although we’d completed two of the
three mountain passes, we’d only ridden 40 miles of the planned
108!
Although the third segment doesn’t have any
mountain passes, it does have a couple good climbs, and by the halfway
point of the ride my legs, neck, back, and seat had all filed
preliminary complaints. The clouds were breaking up a little, and the
temperature was climbing into the 80s: hot, but not as brutal as last
year.
Along the way, I played leapfrog with a female rider who wasn’t
sure of the route, so I gave her some basic directions. Although this
was only my second time, I found myself giving a lot of advice to
first-time riders all day, which made me feel like a bit of a veteran. I
left this particular woman with the ominous message, “You
won’t miss the next water stop; it’s at the top of a
hill.”
When you first see it, Randolph Hill looks like a
solid wall and will crush your morale, even if it really isn’t as
bad as it looks. I pulled into the rest stop at the summit at 11:23,
ahead of last year’s pace, and switched my bottle from sport drink
to cola, which would hopefully provide a bit of a boost for the final
mountain pass of the day.
Randolph Hill is followed by a screaming descent down into
Gorham. I let Paul go ahead, because he usually
descends faster than me, but I found myself gaining on him. Apparently
he’d had an episode of “speed wobbles”, which I know
from personal experience will scare the bejeezus out of you. For the
rest of the day, he wasn’t the fearless descender he’d been
earlier!
After passing through town, we made the turn that led up
Pinkham Notch toward the base of Mt. Washington. The climb
isn’t prohibitively steep, but it’s steady and relentless
and sustains its ascent much longer than the other climbs. When you get
there, the noontime sun is beating down, so I was thankful I’d
loaded my bottle with more ice than cola back in Randolph. Still, the
rest stop at the base of the Mt. Washington auto road
came earlier than I expected. Pulling in at 12:35pm, I had been
consistently maintaining a pace that was ten minutes ahead of my 2012
effort.
At the rest stop I replenished my drinks and helped the volunteers
corral wayward supplies that were being blown around by a suddenly
lashing breeze that gusted above 30 mph.
After leaving the stop, Paul and I climbed another couple miles
before cresting Pinkham Notch and completing most (but
definitely not all) of the climbing for the day. Along the way, I had to
stop and fix the chest strap for my heart rate monitor; I’d
sweated so much that it had come loose and slid down around my
stomach!
As has been the case for most of my rides this year, I had planned to
try to keep my heart rate at around 80 percent of my max as much as
possible. That had served me really well on other rides, and I think it
really helped here, as well.
Before the ride, I had also been worried about my ability to climb,
since the new bike has a compact double chainring, rather than my old
triple, which provided a much lower “granny gear”. However,
I managed to survive with the gears I had. I didn’t spend all that
much time in my lowest gear, and I wasn’t noticeably slower as a
result, so I guess that had been an unnecessary concern.
After another ripping descent on the back side of Pinkham, I passed
through the town of Glen (where I’d hit the wall
last year) and onward into the final rest stop in
Intervale.
I’d covered 97 miles in 6 hours 50, which was nice, given the
amount of climbing we’d done and the brutal headwind. It had
gotten quite hot, and the sweat would pour off you when you stopped
riding. I was achey, but nowhere near as destroyed as I’d been in
the heat of 2012. Still ahead on time, I was targeting finishing the
ride within 8 hours.
Giving up on cola, I refilled with ice water and rode the entire
last segment with Paul for company. Well, except for
the final mile-the painful climb up Bald Hill
Road back up to the start-which is just an utter and
complete ballbuster. I hung my helmet on my handlebar stem and struggled
up, finishing at 2:58pm, beating last year’s time by ten
minutes.
We talked with other riders and rested at the conservation center
that serves as the start, finish, and fundraising beneficiary of the
ride. I downed two ice pops and two boxes of chocolate milk, and was
inexpressibly delighted to find they’d put a big pile of
facecloths on ice, which felt amazing at the end of
eight hot and sweaty hours in the saddle.
Afterward, Paul and I drove down to swim in the rapids of the
Swift River, where some kids were trying (and largely
failing) to whitewater kayak. After cooling off, we drove back down to
Wolfeboro and ate at the
Wolftrap, as
we’d done with Jay and Noah last year. I had a great penne,
although next year I might con Paul into eating earlier at one of the
restaurants in the Conway tourist book that was in our registration
packet.
Then we drove the long road home, again watching the
heat lightning flickering off the clouds in the distance for most of our
route. After the ominous weather forecast, I was stunned that we’d
gotten through the drive up on Friday, plus the entire ride and the
drive back to Boston without us or our bikes getting wet.
In the end, it wound up being a really great trip and another
wonderful ride, and I owe a big pile of thanks to Paul for
being game to do the ride with me again this year. This ride is so much
better than the CRW Climb to the Clouds that takes place the same
weekend, and it really gives me a ton of confidence in my strength going
into my upcoming PMC ride.
I’m pretty certain that I’ll be back for one
more Mt. Washington Century in 2014, as preparation for my
final (and one-third longer than usual) Pan-Mass Challenge.
And here are links to the
GPS log and
video!
Click to view