Monday, October 28, 2013

Rapha Race Recon: Gentlemen, Bestill Your Engines

Typical view along the route. Click to enlarge any photo.
Since everyone seems to have their lycra pantaloons in a bunch about the Rapha Gentlemen's Race, I went ahead and rode what the Rapha Continental dudes told me is the course on Saturday night at the Spooky Cross races. Yes, it is a climber's parcours and it is hard.

But nothing like impossible. If you've done a century from the Westside up to Wilson, or the ride from my house to Baldy and back, or 39 to Dawson's Saddle and down Angeles Crest, or up the 2 to Cloudburst and back, you can handle it. It's probably around 50 miles of climbing of varying degrees. The first 50 miles are harder, but once you hit the top, there's nowhere to go but downhill. I don't know everyone on this team, but Karim and Padraic (what kind of Neanderthal spelling of Patrick is this?) have done similar rides with me. They'd do fine.

I first tried the route on Saturday, but I started late and got nervous around three o'clock, when the shadows started making their way onto the dirt road. I also found my 34-25 gearing not ideal for the steeper gravel sections. I didn't know how far I still had to go, and didn't want to get lost 20 miles from nowhere in the dark. I turned back at the bottom of Mount Gleason Road.

So I tried again on Sunday, driving as far as I could, to the gate onto the dirt section, to save some time. That made things easier.

Barring an unforeseen pass over the fire roads of the Verdugo Mountains (brutal... 15-20% grades for 3-4 miles), from Golden Road Brewery it's pretty much a flat/slightly uphill cruise to Little Tujunga Canyon, good warm-up, gaining maybe 500' over 10-15 miles. Even La Tuna Canyon (a shortcut climb over to Foothill Blvd) is only a five mile climb averaging maybe four percent. Easy.

Li'l T is not that diminutive.
At the bottom of Little Tujunga is a 7-11, just in case. This is the last available stop for supplies. As a climb, Little T is no joke. It's a 10 mile climb to the next turn, roughly the equivalent of Latigo Canyon. No, that's not that hard. But it will soften the legs for what's to come. It's about 2000' of climbing, bringing you up to about 2500' in elevation.

Li'l T, courtesy of the liberal elite behind the New Deal and Works Progress Administration. (That one's for Dan Funk.)
Before you head off under the gate and into the wild, stop for water at the fire station to the left, eat, and catch your breath. This is a must, as there's no water for the next 15 miles of tough, off-road climbing at slow speeds. And you won't be eating on the dirt climbs, you'll be huffing and steering and watching where your front tire needs to go.

After almost a dozen miles of climbing, you have 31 tougher miles ahead.
Once through the gate, no more cars. No nothing. You fail here, your only choice is turn around and roll or walk back down to the fire station and call for a ride. However you may get water from some deer hunters on Huffy mountain bikes with baby trailers to haul out the venison. I did.

Road surface: not so bad.
Here begins the viande et patates (meat and potatoes; though in French patates is also slang for balls, how apropos?). Duck under the gate, and begin climbing Forest Route 3N17, aka Santa Clarita Divide Truck Trail. This is where those who push it up the smooth pavement of Little T will start to pay the price. It's roughly surfaced, just like up Highway 39 after the gate. Lots of rocks from the cliffs above with smooth and/or cracked concrete. This goes on for about six miles, with some long grades up to 13% or so—some tough grades that made me glad when I came back the second time with a 28 cog in the back. That brings you up to about 4500'.

Again, not bad. Undulating though. 
I won't sugarcoat: it's tough climbing to that point, 4000' of more-or-less continuous work, with only short recovery zones.

The start of the rough stuff.
Then the surface gets tough: it veers suddenly from rock-littered concrete to plain dirt with rocks. Now you're on gravel, rocks, sand... (How many words do Eskimos have for snow? This road contains geology-based version of that linguistic hierarchy. If it starts at mountain and ends at sand, expect to find everything in between on the road.) You're still riding on 3N17, but it's now a schizophrenic surface: sometimes smooth concrete descents end in abrupt switchbacks of sand and rocks. Same for ascents. Pay attention: do not get confident enough to bomb any descent, or you'll find yourself trying to brake at 40 mph on sand, heading off a cliff. People will go down here, mark my words. Seriously, mark them so you're not one of the people going down. Stay on your toes, keep your eyes up the road at all times. Don't get cocky here.

Plenty of skinny tire tracks prove it's not that bad.
You're getting pretty high. Facing north.
It goes up and down for a bunch of undulating miles; you're up, you're down, you're hungry, you're tired of this, but you're still hovering around 4500 feet in elevation. Finally, there's a longer descent, down to North Fork, where Mount Gleason Road begins. There's a water stop here, thank the heavens: the rangers leave two five-gallon jugs of potable water. Eat.

Thank God.
Mount Gleason Road—though it sounds the most fearsome—is awesome! I can't believe I was so scared of it. Or maybe I'm just relieved it's not worse than FR 3N17. It's very gradual, easy climbing, smooth dirt, going from about 4100' up to 6100' in about eight miles, averaging maybe 5% or so. Sure, there are rocks in the dirt, but this is about as smooth as you can get when it comes to riding on dirt. It's way better than the road you came in on. At 6100', before the summit, you hit the tarmac again. From here on, it's paved riding.

Gleason's start looks slightly forboding.
But it gets much better.
A bit more climb on paved road to 6500', then mostly a long descent from here on out; a couple of grades, Upper Big T to the 2, but nothing major. You're home-free, methinks. Unless the unveiled route is harder than this one, going out and over Dawson Saddle at 7900'.  But, hey, after that, nowhere to go but down. Wheeee!

So, overall, it seems we're looking at about 45-50 miles of climbing, around 40 of it real climbing, with 20 miles or so of broken concrete, gravel, and dirt riding. Probably another 40 of descending. Not so bad, hmm? To me, the roads seem no worse than the roads of Paris-Roubaix, dirt Mulholland, or any Santa Monica Mountains fire road, like Westridge.

Hint: Those are practical places to practice riding in dirt and test your set-up.

SOME OTHER CONSIDERATIONS

Note: A lot of what's below is basic information. I don't know everyone on the team well, so better safe than otherwise. Don't mind the tone, I am missing some important chromosomes.

L'Équipement

La Bici

  1. Do not ride carbon rims. Unless you want to. Everyone rides CX races on carbon. Your call.
  2. You can do this parcours on a road bike. In fact, all the Rapha Continental dudes who designed the route and rode it already have, and told me so. Pros ride Paris-Roubaix on road bikes, hmm? A cyclocross bike or mountain bike would be helpful on the short and steep dirt descents, but no real gain on the uphills. A typical 'cross bike is really just a road bike with wider, knobbed tires and less responsive cantilever brakes, anyway. Don't believe me? Ride one.
  3. I would put duct tape on the lower part of the downtube if you use a carbon bike. Rocks have a nasty habit of jumping at carbon, especially off the front wheel. Maybe two layers of tape. Duct tape is handy to have along, anyway. I've fixed sidewalls and flats with the stuff. Comes right off when you're done. Easy. It even comes in black, Jack.
  4. Get tires at least 25mm wide, or as wide as your bike will take, if you can go up to 28 or 30 wide. Big tires with more volume will spare you a lot of chattering and bumps, and give you better grip, more confidence, and make you more handsome and robust.
  5. I would not use Vittoria EVO Pave 24mm tires, despite the fact that everyone likes them on the road. I just don't think the thin sidewalls are tough enough for sharp rocks and gravel. You're welcome to prove me wrong. 
  6. I did it on the cheapest, least-treaded CX tires, the Michelin Cyclocross Jet 700x30, just to be safe because I didn't know what I'd encounter. No problem. The Challenge Almanzo Gravel Race Clincher is the real gravel racer's tire of choice. I'll probably use the 28 wide Gatorskins for the race.
  7. It's a climbing race. Compact, 50/34, and/or at least a 27 or 28 big cog on the back cassette. If you try to grind up the dirt, you'll spin out the tire more often. If you have a 34/29, use it. If you have a 34/32, you wouldn't regret it, either. It's a climbing race.
  8. Have your bike tuned up and ride it with all the gear you'll be using on race day for at least two rides. Nothing beats finding out your bike doesn't work on the day of the race, especially a team race. "Sorry, guys!"
  9. Two tubes. They're mine. Bring yours, too.
  10. Lights. Not a bad idea.
  11. I will have a real-deal pump and patch kit for all to use. 
  12. But I am not your mechanic. If you're not self-sufficient with changing tires and such, practice right now. Your mommy isn't on this ride, and when you use up others' energy with your unpreparedness... 

Clothing, etc.

  1. I wore a brand new Champion System Razor kit—same we'll get from Jack—on the ride both days. Very, very nice. 
  2. Don't wear your precious, spotless shoes. The uppers and carbon soles can get scratched if you need to dismount to cross some rocks, which can happen in a few places. Or put duct tape along the soles if that soothes you.
  3. Cleat covers. If you're into cleat covers.
  4. If you want to wear MTB shoes and use MTB pedals, I see no downside to that.

Food
  1. Don't be dumb about fuel. When you run out of calories, you're slowing. When you bonk, you're basically a liability. So overpack on the calories. Drink mix, bars, sandwiches, rice cakes, gels, whatever you like. Just bring a lot. I'm bringing food for me, not for you.
  2. I can't carry a century worth of food in my pockets, so I am carrying a musette bag. If you need one, stop into any local bike shop and ask for one of the dozens the owner received free at Interbike. If he/she doesn't give you one, find another shop to frequent.
  3. Or go to Zone 3 and get a musette free if you spend $5. In fact, go in and say, "I get 20% off everything here, Pat said so." It works. Get whatever you need: drink mix, Bonk Breaker bars, lights, tubes, tires, cassettes, whatever. Ah, the benefits of knowing a silent partner in a non-profit business... If a bike shop can earn as much as agency jobs, let me know how and I'll shift gears.
Skills: Practice Riding on Dirt, Rocks, Sand
  1. Ride your bike on dirt, over rocks and into sand. See how it feels to drift a bit in soft corners. Practice.
  2. Know that you never squeeze your front brake in a corner. You shouldn't even do this on the road, and you'll wipe your front wheel on soft stuff. You knew this, right? Your back can skid and recover. The front? No. Practice.
  3. You can even unclip your inside foot for insurance if you're gonna drift in a turn, just keep the weight on the outside foot. Practice.
  4. Know how to unweight your front end and rear end, so you don't pinch flat when you run into that rock/rut you were staring at to avoid. Practice riding over parking curbs without touching your tires on the curb. Lift front, lift back. Easy.
  5. If your rear tire slips riding uphill (it will at some point), all you have to do is unclip and hold the brakes. You never need to panic and fall over, although it is funny. Until you take out the person behind you.
  6. Do not go hard early. Save your strength and stay well within your limits throughout the ride. Don't sweat losing time, so long as you're rolling. You can hit the finish line spent, but if you're spent well before the finish, standing still, you'll really lose time. And what good is that? 
Venison.
The strongest survive. I didn't make the rules up.