Elk Mountain Time Trial

The moment of truth has arrived.  It is time for me to find out where I rank among the pantheon of Asheville cyclists.  Today, I will race up Elk Mountain while using the STRAVA app on my iPhone to see how I compare.  STRAVA’s motto is “Prove It.”  I fear I will only be proving how woeful of a cyclist I really am.  My experiences to date have led me to believe the local populace provides some extremely stiff competition.   I am reluctant to even go for a casual ride with my neighbors.   For example, take the family next door.  The dad works as an interventional radiologist by day, but after work, transforms into a competitive mountain biker who thinks nothing of knocking out a one hundred mile ride in the mountains on a single gear bike.   His wife, also a mountain biker and a sometimes runner, decided on a whim to take part in the Mt. Mitchell running race and finished 7^th.  This is no ordinary race:  it is basically a marathon to the peak of the highest point east of the Mississippi.  Just up the road in our neighborhood is another family where the dad is a category 2 road cyclist and his son just won a North Carolina amateur road race title.  Heck, even my son’s soccer coach is a world class ultra-marathoner who has appeared on Oprah.  While riding home from work this past week, I was quickly overtaken by a peloton of cyclists in the midst of an animated conversation.  They slowed down just enough to inquire if I was interested in buying a new bike and then they blew past.  I attempted to hang with the tail of the group, but after only a few hundred yards, I was quickly dropped.   Yes indeed, it will be interesting to see what my STRAVA ranking will be.

This is my baseline ride.  I will be riding free of the influence of any performance enhancing drink (PED).  I am a bit concerned I am not in top form, having just returned from a week abroad with my family.  Aside from this brief break, I have been biking regularly, and I feel I am in pretty good cycling shape.

The climb up Elk Mountain begins with a long, straight incline.  Three minutes into the ride, I am already sucking wind.  I then enter the real climbing.  It is one hairpin turn after another while climbing a fairly steep grade.  My pedaling falls into a metronome- like rhythm.   I come upon two wild turkeys on the berm of the road.  They are both puffed to double their normal size.  Apparently, they are involved in some sort of mating dance or display of dominance.  They fail to acknowledge my presence.   I continue on in the lowest gear, climbing, climbing, and more climbing. After about 25 minutes, I feel totally gassed, but I keep on pushing as hard as I can.  A wave of nausea comes over me.  Fortunately, I am given a brief reprieve from the climbing as I race down into an open glade where I come upon my dream property.  It is a beautiful old farmhouse with a pond, barn, and an open field perched on the edge of the mountain overlooking Asheville.  The break quickly ends, and I begin the final extended climb.  The last 200 yards is the steepest part of the course.  Painted on the road are exhortations left over from prior races to “push it” and “almost there.”  Finally, using my last burst of energy, I reach the summit.  There is even a spray painted finish line.  I am spent.  I look at my watch for my “unofficial, non-STRAVA confirmed time” of 33:47. 

After I return home, I review my STRAVA ranking for the Elk Mountain TT segment.  My time is good enough for 314^th place out of 461 participants.  Not too bad, but not good either.  I think of myself as a decent all-round athlete, but perhaps that is not the case by local standards.  The competitor in me cringes when I see that Curt Meuller finished with the same time.  What about this T.W. guy who is only one second faster?  If I had only known how many bikers would finish with similar times, I might have pushed myself just a wee bit harder.  Maybe I might have upped my ranking into the 200s.  Next, I survey who holds the fastest time.   Albert Pine completed the segment in a blistering time of 18:48, almost twice as fast as me.  How is that even possible?  Perhaps Albert Pine is really just the alias of Lance Armstrong who is secretly biking the mountains around Asheville.  When I check out the rankings on a few other STRAVA segments, I find Albert Pine is the ubiquitous “King of the Mountain” (KOM is the STRAVA title for the top dog).  He better be a professional.  Well, now I know where I stack up while riding “clean.”  Things are sure to change in the coming weeks as I repeat this climb, but under the influence of my chosen PEDs.

 

Next week . . . a brief interlude while I investigate the mystery of the titanium necklace.