Can’t say I do much pavement pounding on the road bike, but certainly have been known to ponder the pavement, esp. chugging up grades of 10% or greater.

d

Now you’ll understand why the only climbing I’ll ever be good at will be climbing into bed.

Having been to Utah only once (quite some time ago to do a little skiing) I’m trying to picture these climbs in my head, relying solely on my old and faulty memory of the area. From your descriptions though, they sound absolutely brutal. Oddly, I find myself wishing I could join you guys for a ride. I’d get dropped faster than a hamburger at a vegetarian food convention, but what da hay, I’d still give it a go.

By the way, who’s wearing what appears to be matching bibs…and where did he get them?

Climbing, Climbing, Climbing, Raw Hiney!
First, I freely admit to being recently (within the past year) reintroduced to the sport after a 12 year absence. With that said, when I met Fatty he told me that there are plenty of bike blogs out there, but that Fat Cyclist was dedicated to the “rest of us” meaning, those who enjoy biking but do not fall into the category of semi-professional cyclists or professional cyclists, or just plain psycho weekend worrier cyclists. As I have read the posts, and comments on the boards, it occurred to me that maybe the Fatty Community is starting to segment a bit, and that it would be a good idea to post my impressions of the sport to help those who may have forgotten what it is like to be a newbie. With that in mind…

Last year The ULCER, this year The Gauntlet Supreme?
Last year my wife and I, and our friends, rode The Utah Lake Epic Century Ride. This century ride is 100 miles of flat, back country roads by Utah Lake. Did it almost kill us? Yes. Are we going to ride it again? Maybe.

Also last year, I rode Squaw Peek for the first time. In fact, on one outing I rode it twice in a row, just for “fun.” This past Monday, my Captain Insane’O training partner, and good friend, John, decided that riding up the Provo side of the Alpine Loop would be a good experience for us. If only Fatty had only published his, “The Gauntlet Supreme” post before I embarked on this “good experience.” For the record, Fatty’s description, “the Provo side of the Alpine Loop is clearly the harder climb. Especially the first five miles of it. It’s just steep.” is excruciatingly true.

Another Fatty truism, “On Big Climbs, Everyone Rides Alone.”
Of course, John being a much more fit cyclist than myself, left me in the proverbial asphalt dust of the Alpine Loop Road. Finally, eventually, I passed The Sundance Nature Center, roughly that five mile mark Fatty mentioned, and the ridiculously steep climb turned into ‘just’ a steep climb for the remainder of the ride. Needless to say, I did not see John again until the summit.

Cadence, Stance, and Wildflowers
You more experienced and sophisticated types focus on the finer points of the sport: cadence, average speed, body placement, and clean pedal strokes. For the remainder of cycling community who, either don’t care, or are too naive to care, there are plenty of other things to occupy our time in the saddle: overloaded senses, keeping the bike moving in a somewhat forward direction, and random thoughts. Overloaded Senses: Everything on my inside wants to be on my outside…is my heart going to explode? Moving Forward: Pain…in legs…must slow down… switch to small chain ring thingy…switching…can’t breath…air thin…sun hot…legs burning…sit bones numb…adjust seated position…overcorrect…bike now in middle of the road. Random Thoughts: What did Dupree, or was it Lance, say about the bike and the rider? Oooh, look at the amazing views, and those beautiful wildflowers! Wow! Crazy! The Summer Solstice must be early this year. I wish I had a Kryptonite cross, because then I could keep both Dracula AND Superman away.

Are You Training for an Event?
Upon summiting, I finally caught up with John in the Alpine Loop Summit parking lot. After dismounting and learning how to walk again, I took up sitting on a fairly large rock. It was at this point that John asked me how I was doing. Not wanting to look like my early morning spinning classes are not paying off, I told him that I was doing well. The next thing you know two cars pulled into the parking lot. The occupants, apparently from California (according to the plates on the cars), got out and one of them, a woman turned to us and said, “You guys are amazing. Are you training for something?” John and I almost fell off our nice comfy rock with laughter! Talk about an ego boost! Oh I suppose in some deep dark corner of my mind I have aspirations of LOTAJA, but for the record, if I am not able to hit a consistent 16mph for 100 miles, what makes me think I keep that pace, or better, up for over 200? Then again, if I did it, I could wear my Fatty jersey knowing that being a “newbie” is a part of any cyclists’ roots.

BTW – My average speed on the climb, just over 5mph (as ridiculous as it may be). Not all of us have Brad-like climbing abilities yet.

Summary (In case you don’t want to plow through the whine above): I’m jealous as heck that you actually get to climb; I wish I lived somewhere else. Thanks for letting me live (and climb) vicariously through you.