October 15, 2012
Whitney Classic 2012
Ride
Report
When my randonneuring pal, Steve Atkins,
invited me to ride the Whitney Classic on a team he was putting together, I
gratefully joined. Truth be told, I had no idea what the event was all
about…just that it has some challenging climbs and extreme weather. My main
motivation was to share an adventure with a good friend.
Steve’s son Michael, their family friend
Daniel Tansill and Daniel’s friend Ryan Snow made up the remaining members of
the five-man team. Most teams that ride the Whitney Classic approach the ride
as a relay…with each cyclist only riding sections of the route, and resting in
a sag vehicle while others take their turn on the road. Unlike other teams, we
planned to each ride the entire 135-mile distance and stick together to cut
down on the need for additional sag vehicles. Also, adventures seem better when
there are others with whom to share the experience. Since we were planning to
ride ‘Rando’ style, and the Whitney is a fund raising ride for a Christian
based high-Adventure organization…Steve came up with the name “Team Holy Spokes
Audax”.
‘Team Holy Spokes Audax’ at Badwater, Death Valley (Daniel Tansill,
Ryan Snow, Me, Michael Atkins & Steve Atkins)
I don’t actually ‘train’ to ride long
distance. Weekly rides & regular long distance events are just a part of my
randonneuring lifestyle. I suspect that both Steve & I could probably have
prepared for the ride without significant changes to our normal routines.
Personally, the only change I planned to make was the conscious addition of
some routes with steep climbs to my regular riding schedule. Fortunately, Steve
wisely organized some training rides to help us all acclimate to each other’s
riding style, test our gearing for steep climbing & expose our non-rando
teammates to riding through the night.
Our first training ride was the High
Country 200K brevet (135-miles), which provided a nice mountain climb ascending
to 9,000-ft (Big Lake, AZ). It was on this ride, that I discovered Michael, at
only 18-years of age, has both the skill to establish a reasonable pace, and
the discipline to stick to it (talents I’ve yet to develop).
At the completion of our 4th
formal training ride, Steve and I stood hunched-over, exhausted from having
just repeated the famous ‘End of the World’ climb 3-times (which was the extent
of the days plan), discussing how another 3 repeats would come close to
equaling both the distance & the total climbing of the Whitney route. Michael,
anticipating where the conversation might lead, quickly interrupted us and
insisted that 3-times was the plan, and he had no intention of riding more
repeats! Steve looked at me and said: “Debbie (Steve’s wife) sends Michael
along to keep us from doing something stupid”. Michael had established his role
as the teams’ voice of reason.
Daniel was able to join us on one of the
training rides in the Superior, AZ area, and our night ride in Mesa. Daniel is
twenty-something, and he grew up spending lots of time in the Atkins’ home. He
doesn’t take long to establish that comfortable, friendly & ‘familiar’
rapport with others. A bit of an
optimist, and not overly concerned with the details, Daniel was obviously going
to be offering the ‘heart’ necessary to hold any team together.
Steve, a natural leader, father-figure,
12-time veteran of the Whitney classic, and organizer of Team Holy Spokes
Audax…assumed the role of leader from the teams’ inception. We couldn’t have
been in better hands, as every element of preparation was carefully planned,
communicated & carried-out.
Steve
& Michael at Big Lake, AZ (High Country 200K)
Ryan Snow, who lives in Tucson, wasn’t
able to attend any of the pre-event rides, and remained a bit of a ‘mystery
man’. For some unknown reason, I imagined him to be a 50-year old, seasoned
long distance cyclist from the ranks of the Ultra Marathon Cycling
Association…5-foot 6-inches tall, balding and sporting a goatee. Steve, Michael
& Daniel had mentioned (multiple times) that Ryan was a friend Daniel met
in College, so he was more likely to be young & inexperienced…but this
failed to register with me. I heard the
comments, but my imagination had already established a dominant profile &
would not relent.
During the weeks leading up to the
event, I had relaxed into the mode of merely following Steve’s lead and took
advantage of the low-stress, no-worries attitude all his diligent work
facilitated. Ruthann (my wife) had lovingly agreed to join us on this journey
and drive our minivan as a SAG vehicle. I didn’t realize how little I’d
contributed to the Whitney effort until Ruthann began asking me some very basic
questions (logistics, SAG responsibilities, schedule, route details, etc), and
I didn’t know any of the answers. Given Steve’s leadership, and the youth of
both Michael & Daniel…I had unconsciously decided I would be the team’s domestique. My role would be to offer
long pulls at the front of the paceline, share words of encouragement when
spirits get low, look confident when the mood is uncertain, and basically
follow whatever orders I was given.
Whitney weekend arrived, and we convened
at the Atkins home to begin our journey. There was a bit of nervousness, as
Daniel’s girlfriend Natalie would be accompanying Ruthann on SAG duty…and I
knew I’d be in trouble if my wife didn’t like her assigned SAG companion.
Fortunately, Natalie turned out to be an exceptional young woman with a
friendly, down-to-earth, ‘familiar’ likeability. She had all the ‘heart’ that
Daniel seemed to possess…with the addition of an increased attention to detail.
Natalie thought to bring a nice camera on the trip, and is responsible for most
of the photos documenting our Whitney Classic adventure.
Natalie
& Daniel at Badwater, Death Valley
Ryan Snow, mystery man, was not middle-aged,
short, bald or scrawny. Quite the opposite actually…he turned out to be young
& large in stature (6’-4”…ish). As an added bonus, Ryan’s parents joined
our gang and added to the number of friendly faces we could rely on for
support.
Ryan
Snow, reaching for a water bottle (Death Valley)
The 9-hour drive was relatively
painless, and we all arrived in Lone Pine, CA around 11pm Friday evening,
unharmed and sufficiently acquainted. We were up early, checked-in at the
official event headquarters and then our second SAG team joined the group.
Mike, Kathy, and Little Mike Rollinson
met us at the McDonalds for breakfast. Mike is a veteran of the Whitney
Challenge and he’s also an experienced trainer. Mike, Kathy & little Mike
rode with Ruthann & I to Panamint Springs resort for the pre-event brunch.
Being a little anxious for the ride to start, and also trying to keep up with
Steve in his suburban, my driving performance was anything but stellar. Mike
revoked my driving privileges & I turned the keys over to Ruthann.
Badwater
Basin
After stops in Stovepipe Wells and then
Furnace Creek…we eventually arrived at the start…Badwater, Death Valley, CA.
Almost 300-feet below sea level; Badwater is the lowest elevation in North
America. Ambient temperature in Badwater was 110-degrees. With added heat
radiating from the asphalt, my Garmin registered 117-degrees when the starting
conch was sounded. Pretty cool to have a 10-year old boy start the ride by
blowing a real conch.
I decided heat exhaustion would be a bad
start to this epic ride, so I filled a sock with ice & draped it over my
neck until the sun retreated. I think Ryan, Michael & Daniel also employed
ice socks at one time, or another. Finally, I felt like I had contributed to
the team.
The first 40-miles was relatively flat,
so we maintained a pace between 18-20-mph. Normally, we’d ride faster, but our
strategy was to keep our legs fresh for the climbing, so we followed Steve’s
advice: “Start out slow, and then back it off a little.” With the heat,
18-20mph was really fast enough. It was obvious we hadn’t practiced the
‘hand-off’ exchange of water bottles & food from our SAG volunteers…we kept
dropping bottles & food all over the road. Eventually, we realized that we
had to drop our bottles in the dirt prior to reaching our SAG supporters, and
then slow down to grab food or drink. Ruthann, Natalie, Mike, Kathy &
Ryan’s folks were all very kind and did a fantastic job!
Actually, I took too much advantage of
the constant food & water supply, and started feeling bloated & slightly
sick from too much intake. I was fortunate enough to recognize the problem
early, and managed to ration my consumption before my stomach got too upset.
Daniel wasn’t so lucky. Right before dusk, about 3-hours into the ride, he had
to pull over and void the contents of his stomach. The four of us stood on the
side of the road, cheering Daniel on as he vomited (crazy). Unfortunately, the
damage had been done…and Daniel’s body was already fighting to recover from a
cold virus from the week before. Somewhere on the Townes Pass climb, and with
some consulting with Mike Rollinson, Daniel had to abandon the ride.
Steve
in front, leading our team up Townes Pass
(Note the road slant & incline…which
wasn’t so obvious when viewed from the bike)
We’d been so focused on Daniel, trying
to keep him motivated & recover from the nausea, that we hadn’t noticed
Steve was suffering from both nausea & neck pain. I think the stress of
attending to all the pre-ride planning, logistics and also stewarding the rest
of us during the early miles of the ride had taken its toll on Steve. Our group
kept splitting, and then re-grouping at the SAG vehicles every few miles.
Eventually, not wanting to slow the team down, Steve decided to have Ruthann’s
SAG vehicle go ahead with Michael, Ryan & me…and Mike’s SAG vehicle would
attend to Steve.
I’ve seen Steve battle through all kinds
of challenges on the road, and he certainly didn’t need to prove anything on
this event. I’m guessing that his desire, as a father, to share this experience
with his son was far more important than finishing the event for the 13th
time. With a strong desire to rejoin the team, Steve abandoned the ride at
Panamint Springs.
Night had fallen and we enjoyed the
illumination of a beautiful full moon. Our surroundings were often so visible,
that we kept looking over our shoulders to see if a car was waiting to pass.
Owls were silently hunting above us, only barely visible as they swooped down
close to the road looking for prey. I suppose they are always there when riding
through the night, but I never noticed without such a bright moon.
Whitney
Classic ‘nightlight’
We had a long stop at the Father Crowley
checkpoint, where we enjoyed some potato soup and stretched out on the ground
for a half-hour or so. We knew we were just a couple miles from the 33-mile
decent into Lone Pine, and we were looking forward to the relief from climbing.
To our delight, Daniel rejoined us on his bike, and provided a much appreciated
4th member for our paceline.
Now, Ryan had been, and still remained a
bit of a mystery man. He hadn’t complained (that I could hear) and his body
language didn’t show any signs of fatigue or struggling. We were about 10-miles
into the 33-mile decent into Lone Pine, when I noted that we’d just completed 100-miles.
Ryan calmly commented that 100-miles was a new personal distance
record…surpassing his former personal best of 80-ish miles. I couldn’t believe
what I was hearing…this guy chose one of the toughest events in the country for
his first century! They say that the last of the ‘true cowboys’ are gone…but
whatever the modern version of ‘true cowboy’ is, Ryan Snow definitely
qualifies.
Michael,
Ryan & me showing off our reflective vests
Our 4-man paceline rolled into Lone
Pine, with just 13-miles left to finish. Of those 13-miles, 12 would be the
final ascent up Mt Whitney, and represented the hardest climb I’d ever
attempted. Daniel was still quite ill, so having already gone beyond the call
of duty, he wisely rejoined the SAG support crew. Ryan could have proudly ended
his ride in Lone Pine and gone home with a new personal best & his head
held high. Michael was suffering from severe neck pain & debating whether
to go on. I dismounted my bike & stretched my back in preparation for the final
climb…a climb I thought I might be making by myself.
With an astonishing display of courage
and character, both Ryan and Michael got back on their bikes & joined the
final attack on Mt Whitney! Actually, I’m not sure that Michael ever dismounted
his bike in Lone Pine. We casually rode the 1-mile distance through town, and
then turned through the Mt Whitney portal, and began the climb.
My legs felt surprisingly good, with no
signs of cramping or fatigue, so I set an early pace of 6-7mph, which was
dictated by my ‘comfortable’ cadence in granny-gear. Pedaling slower was
actually a little more difficult and going faster required shifting to a higher
gear. Michael’s bike was set-up with lower gearing on the rear cog set, so his
comfortable cadence was closer to 4-mph. I briefly entertained the idea of
riding on ahead at my own pace, but there didn’t seem to be much reward in an
unremarkable solo finish. Ryan seemed strong, and since he had no reference for
judging how his body was reacting (this was his first century+ ride), he wisely
rode ahead at his own tempo. I elected to ride with Michael and offer what
little encouragement I could.
We rode side-by-side, and sometimes I’d
ride just in front…occasionally in silence, but usually my mouth was in
overdrive telling stories of previous adventures on my bike. I was hoping to
distract Michael from the pain he was enduring, and possibly find some story
that offered motivation or encouragement.
Every half-mile (or so), we’d stop &
Steve or Mike would massage Michaels neck & offer more positive
reinforcement. It’s hard enough o ride when your neck is in extreme pain, but
climbing really magnifies the stress to neck & back. I’ve had to deal with
intense pain during some of my cycling events…but I never had a vehicle along
that could offer instant relief (perseverance was my only realistic option).
Michael’s endurance was impressive, but the personal journey he was undergoing
was even more impressive considering the fact that he had an easy option to
quit. I could only imagine how difficult it was for Michael to decide to
continue…time and time again with each painful pedal stroke.
We continued up the mountain, struggling
through the 16-18% sections, and finding occasional relief when the gradient
eased off to 10%. It’s surprising how long it takes to ride a mile when going
uphill @ 3-4mph. At one point, I was concerned that my company might be
annoying Michael, but he was willing to put up with me, so we stayed together.
Ryan had taken a spill on some gravel, so the three of us regrouped by the time
we reached the final checkpoint, just 3.6-miles from the finish.
We had some soup, stretched our legs
& got updates on the other Whitney Classic participants. Only one solo
rider was ahead of us, and he stopped to talk and get some soup on his way down
the mountain. The euphoria of finishing was evident in his speech &
countenance…which motivated us to get back on the road. I guessed that we’d
follow the same pattern of stopping every half-mile for Michael to get his neck
massaged, but he proved me wrong and we didn’t stop again during the final
3.6-miles to the finish.
At
the finish
People often ask me why anyone would
participate in endurance events or challenge themselves through such pain &
suffering. I’m equally confused by their question…since most enjoy watching
movies or reading books that portray similar feats of personal growth and/or
overcoming great challenges in pursuit of personal victory. For me, these
challenges also have the added benefit of providing spiritual growth. It was an
honor to observe Ryan & Michael as they each undertook their personal
journey and overcame obstacles on the 135-mile route.
It was likely just as hard for Steve
& Daniel to sacrifice their personal goals and abandon the ride…knowing
that the slower pace they needed to adequately recover might jeopardize the
ride for the rest of the team. Typically, solo riders have a dedicated SAG
vehicle…but we were 5 solo riders sharing 2 support vehicles, so individual
decisions affected four other riders. At certain points during the ride, I
questioned (to myself) whether the solo ‘team’ approach had been very wise. I
know now that it provided additional challenges for learning & growth that
I can draw on for the rest of my life.
Could I have finished the event with a
faster time? It’s possible. Could Steve and Daniel have finished with a more
personalized strategy and pace? It’s possible. Would Michael or Ryan have been
successful with a slower pace or more hours of neck pain to endure? I don’t
know. I do know that we all made decisions with each other in mind, and we all
share in the joy of what was accomplished. We certainly owe a huge debt to our
loved ones who were with us every mile of the journey: filling water bottles,
cheering us on, massaging sore muscles, depriving self of sleep and sacrificing
an entire weekend unselfishly. Thank you!
I’m not so naïve to think that I’ve come
across every challenge the road has to offer. However, I have learned (through
both failure & success) that whatever obstacle stands in my way…usually, the
solution is to exercise common sense, turn to God for a little help, and keep
moving forward with faith. Funny how the older I get, and the more I experience,
this simple 3-step process seems to be the key.
