FLCC> Ride Report - Brasstown Bald - U.F.O.

[Charles Hamilton]

Very lucky to be in Helen, Georgia for the weekend.  High of 64 today,
bright sunny skies.  I left Thursday morning in a snowstorm, can't say
I'm too heartbroken about being far from home today.

Ride today was 5.5 hours,  and included three major climbs, elation at
making it to the top of what may be the steepest road I've ever
climbed, and the agony of the third climb taking over an hour when I
was completely bonked.

Being on vacation, I didn't leave until the temp outside had climbed a
bit.  I headed north out of Helen wearing a wool jersey, shorts and
arm warmers.  The road out of town runs next to the Chattahoochee
river for a while before starting the climb about 1500 feet up Unicoi
Gap, I'm feeling good and don't even have to resort to the new 28
tooth cog I had just put on the bike yesterday.  Descending down the
other side of the gap there's a group of 4 shaved leg road riders
followed by a pace car coming up the other side, the first riders I've
seen for a while, I'm wondering who they were as I turn left to begin
the gradual rise to the base of Brasstown Bald.

Another rider coming towards me waves from a distance and then looks
straight ahead, Phonak jersey, square jaw, expensive glasses, I swear
to myself that I just saw Floyd Landis riding in the other direction.
Shaking off my psychosis, I look back just as I start the gradual rise
about 1/4 mile away and notice the phantom Floyd just at the edge of
my vision, turning around at the corner to come back my way.  Well
Floyd or no Floyd, I'm feeling good so I get a good cadence going as I
move up the risers.

So a couple of turns before the base of the climb, sure enough, Mr.
Phonak is gaining on me fast.  I'm doing my best impression of
someone-at-the-rivet-trying-not-to-show-it, as he pulls up next to me,
hands on the top of his bars, not breathing heavy at all.  "Howdy" he
says and I turn realizing that it is actually Floyd, not my
imagination: jersey, helmet, jaw, grey bike with the logos removed,
the whole bit..  He asks how I'm doing, I stammer something, he nods
and rides away from me quickly, like, like... well he rides away from
me like a Tour de France winner riding away from a 35 year old cat 4.
I'm still pinching myself, wondering why I didn't say more and realize
that he likely didn't want to engage in the same old regular guy to
super-biker conversation that he must alway get.  I spin as best as I
can, but he's away from me well before turn to Brasstown comes into
view.

Ok, Floyd F. Landis just rode away from me and I'm looking up this
mountain saying, 20% grade?  They must be kidding, everyone says 20%,
but can it really be...  Well check out the ride profile from the Tour
de Georgia: (http://www.pezcyclingnews.com/?pg=fullstory&id=3969).  I
really never knew they made roads that steep.  Damn.  I think I
divorced Linnie and proposed to my meager 28 tooth cog halfway up.  If
I had access to a triple half way up that climb, I likely would have
traded my entire bike for it.  As I start up all I can think is
where's the sky?  It seems to be entirely filled with road, straight
up and away from my front tire.  Think the very steepest part of the
turn on Blakesley only straight and 3 miles long.   Three miles and
maybe 1700 feet total gain?  If it had been any steeper it would have
needed a fricken escalator.

So I'm doing track stands on my 39/28 slowly going up the switchbacks
as I approach the first mile marker at 12 minutes into the climb, a
speedy 5 miles an hour by the back of the envelope of my blood
deprived brain.  Ok, I think, maybe the second mile isn't as bad.  All
I want to do is not get off and push, maybe avoid doing the back and
forth weave would be nice too.  Around a corner I look up and the road
is straight up for about 200 meters.

I don't think my first car could have climbed that grade.  There's a
rider resting at the top wearing a bright yellow rain jacket, I grit
my teeth and roll slowly up.  Mid-way I try the weave with no luck,
the turns on each end of the weave are so steep I'm about to fall over
and I realize I won't be able to restart.  Straight up it is, I just
manage to catch the rainjacket guy who informs me the section we just
did was called the wall (does every ride have a wall?) and that it's
easier from here.  He also has a triple with a 36 on the back, I think
it was bigger than the front ring...  Mile three is not as incredible
steep and we make it to the top together.

>From here, it's back down and through a valley to a roadside grocery
and more water.  I run into the 4 person team with the car again.
They ride for some tavern in Athens, Georgia and are all younger
looking and skinnier looking than Joe Bailey, shaved legs, sidi shoes,
carbon bikes, chase car, the whole bit.  Leaving the skinny cats at
the store I roll back a ways to catch the start of climb #3 and the
road back to Helen.  My legs feel about 25 lbs heavier than normal and
every part of me is starting to hurt.  Ok, well how bad could this
climb be?

Well, check the road profile (which I didn't have at the time) and
you'll know what I didn't.  It's a cat1 climb, 1500 odd feet, ungodly
grade at the end.  I've never had a longer hour on a bike.  Every turn
I'm thinking, it must finish just around the corner...ok, maybe this
corner... but no, another long grade.  I manage not to walk it or
weave it, but damn was I slow.  I could have walked faster.  The guys
downtown on their huge three wheel bike contraptions could have gone
faster than me.  I was on the edge of cramping the whole time (why do
I do this to myself?  Why not take up knitting?) but managed not to
cramp just as I finally made the summit.

>From there it was quick descent and some insult to injury rollers on
the way back to Helen and a hot shower.  Now I'm sitting by the river
on the deck eating and drinking everything in sight.  No further Floyd
sightings, but there's always tomorrow...

-Charles