Mt. Evans Hill Climb - 07/22/06

Sometimes I think Andy Johnson knows me better than I know myself. After placing 6th at last weekend's Mike Horgan HC, I made the comment that maybe I'm not as strong on the really steep climbs as I had thought. Andy respectfully disagreed and countered that as the roads get steeper, I do in fact get stronger. Simply, I had an off day. So as this week's training progressed and I compared how I felt this week versus last week, I tended to agree with the boy. As Thursday and Friday came around, I just knew I would be closer to my full potential at Mt. Evans. Not quite there, but definitely close.

Which was a good thing, because everyone who beat me at Mike Horgan were on the start line for Mt. Evans. It would not be a walk in the park to try to earn the titles of State and National Hill Climb Champion.

It was a gorgeous morning with light wind and clear skies, temperatures maybe a little high down in Idaho Springs - just about perfect conditions for this race. No one could predict what it would be like up above treeline and toward the top at over 14,000 feet, but we would take it as it came. The race started on time at 9am, and as he vocally predicted after his Horgan victory, a guy named Ben took off right out of the gate. "Go for it, dude," was all I could think. Mt. Evans is 27.5 miles, nearly all climbing at about a 5% average grade. It's not the same as a flat 28-mile race. If you spend energy unnecessarily, you're toast at the top.

No one bothered to chase Ben down; we all knew he would come back to us at some point. I felt pretty good, almost great. Much better than the previous weekend. Upon recon'ing the course on the 3rd, I knew exactly where I would put in my attacks. Now, if the rest of the peloton would just cooperate so I could work through my master plan. . .

Half-hearted attacks peppered the first 10 miles. They were more like sharp accelerations by guys who were getting nervous and wanted to be on the front. I was content sitting back in 5th to 20th position. I had marked my chief competitors. If they didn't make some sort of serious move, I let others come around me to fill in gaps. I can say with confidence that I wasted not an ounce of energy the first half of the race. It was pretty hot, though. Less than 2 miles into it, I had already shed my glasses because I kept sweating into them. Good thing for the visor I wore beneath my helmet.

We passed the ranger station - the halfway point - at 56 minutes flat. Andy had stated that to break the 2-hour barrier, we would need to hit this point in about 53-54 minutes. My ultimate goal was to break 2 hours, so I knew the pace was pretty fast thus far. At the ranger station, there were about 30 of us still together. I noticed a lot of guys heaving like asthmatics even 4-5 miles into it. I chuckled inwardly at each one of them, knowing they were all in for rude awakenings as the road pitched up and the air thinned out. At this point, I was riding in the front 5-6 and no one was coming by anymore. The lead group of 30 had settled into its rhythm.

At around mile 16, the energy of the pack shifted noticeably. Eyes started to dart and the energy started to compress. I could feel it within me and I could feel it around me. Something was about to explode. As Andy has said about me, "You can just feel when Nate is about to wind it up." This, coincidentally, was the place where in my master plan I had planned to start attacking. The guy who was third at Horgan was right next to me and just behind Greg. I was right behind Ben. Then, Ben and Greg (the top two at Horgan) parted in front of me. Just ever so slightly. . .

Boom! I'm gone. I thread that hole like the eye of a needle and jam it for a minute before settling back down. I look over my shoulder. The contenders are just getting on my wheel. But 30 has become 15. I turn my computer to the heart rate function. The pace the first half of the race had been fast and my HR was higher than I anticipated. So attacks had to be smart. I decided to keep my HR below 175 and to let it recover to below 165 before attacking again.

And I decided to make the attacks very deliberate and obvious. I wanted the people who were in trouble to know that more trouble was coming. My HR dipped below 165. Ca-chunk, ca-chunk - I shifted down 2 gears, got out of the saddle and floored it again. Sat down, settled in, looked back. 15 had become 6. In a total of 10 minutes, I attacked this way four times. At the end of the third attack, there were 3 of us - me, Ben and Greg - and a fourth guy yo-yo'd off the back and then clawed his way back up. After the fourth attack, there were only the 3 of us. This was the race.

I kept vigil on those we had dropped. I did not want the 3 of us to watch each other so much that we slowed and let a larger pack reform. I could tell the attacks had stung Ben's legs. He had to be respected after winning Horgan, but I had a feeling it would come down to me and Greg. Ben was not doing much work and was content to stay third in line behind us. Greg put in some good efforts but nothing explosive. At mile 20, I felt it was my race to win. Up to that point, I had been in control of the race's canvas.

Then, my body threw in a wrinkle to the master plan. With about 30 minutes to go, my quads started to twinge. Not bad, but I knew it would get worse over the steepest parts of the course. We just passed a lake, which marked the place I planned to drop the hammer and ride with everything to the finish line. This new wrinkle made me reassess and decide to hold off a couple more miles. Plus, the race was tough. I wasn't sure I could hold a sustained attack for nearly 30 minutes at that point. I did not want to crater myself. I look over my shoulder and notice the lead motorcycle is inadvertently pacing the guy in fourth back up to us. I drop back about ten yards, get the driver's attention and finally get him to understand what the hell he's doing. I hear the engine rev and he gaps the cyclist. What an idiot! With surprising ease, I catch back on to Ben and Greg. My quads are starting to cramp, but the other two guys are spent. Without the cramps, I would have gone right then.

With about 3 miles to go, it's still just the 3 of us. Around one of the many, many switchbacks on the top, I get out of the saddle to see if that will stretch out my quads and to see how my body responds. If good, I decide I'll go immediately and put the final stake in this race. On my first pedal stroke, my left quad seizes up and just about catapults me off my bike. It's quite humorous to me. I hope it wasn't too noticeable to Ben or Greg, because if they attack hard at this point, there isn't much I can do. I resign myself to the fact that I need to stay seated the rest of the race.

With 2 miles left, I make the decision to give it all I've got. If it's a final sprint, I'll lose. I can't get out of my saddle. I power up through the remaining switchbacks with all I've got. Just under 10 minutes left. The air's thin, the temperature is around 45-50 degrees, the wind is pushing me back in one direction and pushing me up in the other. I have no idea who is still with me and who has dropped. Aside from cramping quads, I feel pretty damn good. I hit the final switchback and there is only 50 meters to the finish line!

Right then, Greg comes by me. Out of the saddle, pumping with everything he's got. It's not a particularly strong attack. Had I been able to get out of my saddle, I could have staved it off. Unfortunately, I have to helplessly watch him come around me. But I can't complain. Final time by my watch was 2:03:04 to Greg's 2:03:02. What an awesome race! I am reminded of a Tour stage back in the mid-90s, a tough day ending with a climb the day before an individual TT. Everyone expected the day to be somewhat routine given the next day's Race of Truth. Then Indurain went to the front and all hell broke loose. Only Johan Brunyeel stayed with him, did no work and then came around Miguel at the end to win the stage. Greg did a little more work than Johan and I do not feel slighted or bitter. He deserved to win and I doff my helmet to him.

I pedaled up to the parking lot, another 100 meters up the road. Stopped my bike, unclipped and got off. My quads and calves were fighting each other for cramping bragging rights. It took me a few minutes to figure out how to stand to keep my muscles from cramping. I finally sat down to gather myself and wait for Andy to finish. Andy raced in the 35+ group, which started a half-hour behind me.

Andy put in a great race, in his own right. It unfolded a little differently in his group. Theirs was more of a steady rhythm that ground people up and spit them out the back. Andy was well in control until there were just 3 of them left. Then, a Rocky Mounts guy put in some surges. Andy easily countered and stuck to his wheel. The guy was not going to drop Andy, that was for damn sure. But, the surges did allow for the 3rd guy to be dropped.

Andy and the Rocky Mounts guy traded the lead, but were also marking each other. Maybe a little too much. Because, out of nowhere, the guy in 3rd came back them and left them behind. Suddenly, Andy was in a race for 2nd. Andy battled his way to the top and was similarly overtaken close to the line and relegated to 3rd place.

Not a bad result at all. Andy confided to me afterwards that he had taken in no fuel during the race. Big mistake I told him, and that's probably what kept him from keeping a hold on 2nd and probably setting a PR for the climb. Still, a very respectable 2:10-n-change for Peterbuilt!

All-in-all, a great result for Feedback Sports. Next up is the Colorado State RR Champs - the Carter Lake RR. It's about time for me to chalk up a win. Carter Lake could be it.

Ride safe.