Tour de Big Bear 2012

AUGUST 4, 2012
BIG BEAR, CA

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Rang the alarm at the early time of 5:20 AM. I quickly rolled over and shut it off with disdain. I groaned as my body prayed to settle back into bed and enjoy several hours of sleep, but I couldn't give into such a temptation since I needed to eat breakfast for the Tour de Big Bear.

I rose and settled down at the breakfast table of the cabin. Half-asleep, I munched on a bagel and banana. I let my mind wander as I slowly enjoyed my breakfast. I pulled the course map towards me that was left lying on the table and started to go over the course again. It was set up to be a difficult race-- a 96 mile course with a hair over 7,500 feet of climbing. Normally that kind of ride is hard enough, but add on top of that, the whole race would be done at an elevation between 6,500 feet and 8,500 feet.

I went over my race tactics again in my head. I wanted to control my effort in the first 37 miles. That stretch of road was filled with a few short category 4 climbs followed by a nice 20 mile flat section of road. I needed to save my legs for the two category 1 climbs to Onyx Summit-- the highest paved road in California. The first ascent comes at mile 45 and the second at mile 75. After that, the strategy was just to bury myself and survive the 20 miles to the finish.

I finished my breakfast, drank plenty of water, and started to get ready for the race. After a few minutes, I was out the door and on my bike enjoying my warm up to the start line. I looked at my Garmin and noticed that my resting heart rate was 8 bpm faster than usual. No doubt it was due to the altitude, but it was a lower increase than what I saw last year, which was around 15 bpm.

I made my way to the start and was warm and ready to go. I spotted Kristen behind the road barriers by the start. She had decided to bite the bullet and wake up early for the 7:00 AM start. As we rolled out of the start, she had convinced several other spectators to scream "Go Kevin!" which made me smile. I wondered what she would do for the next 5 or 6 hours until she would see me again at the finish.

The race started fast, as usual. Twenty or so riders started to go full gas at the beginning, and broke away from the main pack. I kept myself under control and let the break away escape as I hid myself from the wind in the the main field. We quickly came up on the first category 4 climb, and riders immediately started popping off the back. I made sure to keep things under control and limit myself to my heart rate zone 3 and just ride a decent tempo up these first short climbs. We gobbled up the now struggling riders dropped from the breakaway and continue to thin down the main field. By the time we had ascended the first two climbs, I found myself in a fairly elite group of six riders. I made sure to keep myself off the front and let others do the pace making for the next section of rolling hills. I wanted to keep myself out of the wind and conserve as much energy as possible for the tougher climbs of the race.

We now made it to the flat section of the course along the shore of Big Bear Lake. Our group of six started to get organized and create a pace line. I worked with the group and took my turns on the front, the first time I had faced the wind after 20 miles or so. We quickly cruised over the flat section of road and made our way to the rest stop at mile 36, the last one before the first ascent of Onyx summit.

Half of the group decided to stop with me. I knew it would be a good idea fill up on water and food before the tough climb ahead of us. Especially since you can get dehydrated very quickly at altitude. As I was filling my water, I noticed a rider that looked familiar. I greeted him and asked if had worn a Cervelo kit last year. His face lit up and exclaimed, "Hey! I thought I'd might run into you again!" His name was Frederick, and I had rode with him for the majority of the race last year. He was a fairly strong rider last year and had a good set of climbing legs on him. I was happy to find him since I knew I would have a friend to ride alongside for the first climb at least.

We swapped stories about our seasons as we started on the lower slopes of Onyx. I told him about my struggles and disappointments in Mulholland, Breathless, and the L'Etape. He too rode in the L'Etape this year and commented on its difficulty. Our chit chat was abruptly cut short as we started on the steeper slopes of the climb. The climb was long covering 7.25 miles/11.6 km and fairly steady at an average gradient of 4.2%. (Here is a handy guide to climbing grades as a reference) This was a climb that you can really settle into a comfortable rhythm and tempo since the steepest section of road was at only 6%. No sections to really make your legs scream, but the length certainly makes it difficult.

My legs felt excellent as I settled into my climbing cadence around 80 rpm and set the pace at 10 mph. I wanted to be more on the conservative side since I knew we had to go up the backside of Onyx later in the race. We took turns doing the pace making for the first 5 miles. We brought back and subsequently dropped many of the breakaway riders that had decided to skip the rest stop at the bottom. As we counted down the KOM distance signs to the summit, I noticed that in the final few miles, Fred started to drop off from the back of my wheel. Since I was feeling really strong still, I decided to do my best Tejay Van Garderen impression and slow up to let him rejoin me. I told him to hold on as I would pace him the rest of the way up the hill. He nodded and appreciated the help as he was starting to breath hard. The last few miles went by faster than I was expecting since my legs weren't complaining at all about my effort. Pain always seems to make the miles crawl by, but that didn't happen today. My heart rate was bouncing around my lactate threshold so I was working fairly hard, but at least my legs didn't feel like it.

Fred and I cresting Onyx summit and getting ready for the downhill

I let Fred take the front and do the pace making along the descent down the backside of Onyx. It was a fast and easy descent with only shallow sweeping turns, no technical hairpins or narrow roads. Our speeds reached just under 50 mph/80 kph as we cruised down the slopes. I couldn't fully enjoy the descent since I knew we had to climb back up the very road we were going down in a few miles.

We made quick work of the rolling hills at the bottom of the descent. Before we knew it, we were climbing back up Onyx. The climb up the back side was harder than the first, covering 8.5 miles/13.6 km at an average gradient of 4.6%. Slightly steeper and over a mile longer than the first ascent! I was still feeling really strong at the beginning of the climb and I noticed Fred started to show signs of fatigue as his shoulders started rocking as he grinded out the first mile of the climb. I made my way to the front and paced him up the mountain again. I settled into my climbing rhythm, only climbing out of the saddle when my lower back or legs needed a little stretch. I looked back occasionally to make sure that Fred was sticking to my wheel.

After the first few miles, I could tell that Fred was really struggling, but he was doing his best to stay with me. Between breaths, he said, "You can... leave me... behind..." I looked back at him, smiled, and replied, "Why would I leave my team captain?" He cracked a smile and gave a short laugh. I continued to say, "As far as I'm concerned, you have the yellow jersey, and its my job to make sure you get to the top of this climb." He nodded and we continued to work together up the climb.

I was working fairly hard going up the climb since my heart rate kept on dancing just below my lactate threshold. I was averaging 230 watts going up the beginning of the climb, a decent effort, but I knew I could crank it up to 280-300 watts if I needed to. My legs still felt fresh and strong-- no pain, no suffering, no groveling for me to stop. It was a pretty amazing.

As we crossed the "KOM: 3 miles to the summit" sign, I could see that the elastic was really starting to stretch with Fred at my wheel. He would dangle back for a few bike lengths, then dig it out to latch back on. Every once and a while I would have to slow up to let him rejoin me, but he seemed to recover each time and hold my wheel. And to give him credit, he never let the elastic snap. We vigilantly continued up the climb and gobbled up a few more riders as we headed to the final mile of the mountain. My legs only started to complain during the final kilometer. It seemed that they had enough of this climb and wanted to do something else. I promptly ignored their cries for respite since I knew it would be over in a few more minutes.

We made it to the rest stop at the summit and refueled with food and water. Fred thanked me for all the work I did for him going up the climb. I told him it was nothing, even though my legs had now become decidedly upset with my decision. After the short pit stop, we cruised back down towards Big Bear lake. This time we could enjoy the 45 mph/72 kph descent since we knew the majority of climbing was done and there were just 20 miles left to the finish.

After free wheeling down the slopes for a few minutes, we made our way to the flat streets by Big Bear lake. It took a little while for my legs to get used to turning the pedals above 80 rpm since they had become a little cold and tight from the down hill. We cranked it up to just above 20 mph and took turns on the front.

With about 8 miles left to the finish, the road turned away from the lake and back into the foothills. The course was sprinkled with short, stinger climbs: Only a few hundred meters long, but at gradients of 10-12%. I did my best to ride out of the saddle and power through the steep rises. Most of the lactic acid was gone from my legs and they were feeling good again, so the stingers weren't taking as much out of me as I expected. I'm pretty sure Fred hated any climbing at this point since he was regularly dropped from my wheel during any incline, and slowly rolled back up once the road flattened out or slanted downward.

With about 1 km to go, we reached the final rise before the finish. Still feeling really good, I decided to go full gas and see how fast I could finish. I upshifted and started to really stomp on the pedals as I accelerated away from Fred. At this point the road was littered with riders finishing the shorter 70 and 50 mile courses. I blazed by them going up the final hill, which certainly added to my feeling of strength. I noticed that my Garmin recorded my final effort around 700 watts. Not too bad after completing 95 miles of work. I shut it down with a 50 meters to go and free wheeled across the finish.

I was immediately greeted by cheers and cries from my friends that were eagerly waiting by the finish barriers. I smiled and waved as I got off my bike and approached them. I told them the stories from the race and how good I felt. I saw Fred cross the finish line a few minutes later. I walked over and shook his hand and congratulated him on finishing.

"See you next year." I said as we parted ways.

My ride statistics


Reflections:
This was one of my best races to date. My legs felt really strong the whole race and it showed with an average speed of nearly 18 mph. Personally, I think that average speed was incredible with all the climbing and altitude. My average power output was 213 watts-- only 2 watts shy of my highest power recorded for a century ride (which also happens to be my fastest). However, I think that this performance could have been my best since my previous best was done at sea level, and no doubt, the altitude must have sucked out 10-15 watts from my legs. I guess this is just proof that my training is going well and I need to stay on track with my program. After this performance, I am looking forward to the Mt. Diablo Challenge in October!