Bike to the top of Mt. Washington - June 10, 2007

The Mountain:
At 6288 feet Mount Washington the highest mountain peak in the northeastern US and is located in the Presidential Range of the White Mountain National Forest in New Hampshire. Mt. Washington is famous for its severe and unpredictable weather. The highest recorded wind speed of 231 mph was measured on top of this mountain at the Weather Observatory. Even in the heart of summer visitors to Mt. Washington can experience hurricane force winds and winter weather conditions. The weather can change on a dime.

The Climb:
The elevation gain on the Mt. Washington auto road from the base to the summit is over 4700 feet in just 7.6 miles. After a short flat section at the base of the mountain the road gets steep and continues to get steeper as you gain elevation. The average grade is 12% with extended sections of 18%. The final 50 yards is an astonishing 22% grade. About 1/3 of the road is packed gravel.

Why Ride a Bike up the Mt. Washington auto road?:
When my cycling coach told me about her adventures racing up Mt. Washington on her bike I knew it was just a matter of time before I attempted this feat as well. I lived in New Hampshire 20 years ago and spent many wonderful times in the White Mountains hiking and skiing and rock climbing. I’ve been to the top of Mt. Washington many times, but never by bike!

My First Ride (June 10, 2007):
My game plan for my first time up the auto road by bike is to learn what it feels like, physically and mentally, to ride to the top of Mt. Washington. I have no time goal. My coach will ride with me, but at her own pace... so I know that I’ll be riding most of the way by myself.

My first time up the mountain will be on my beautiful new carbon frame Orbea Diva which has been specially geared by my buddies at Bar Harbor Bicycle Shop with a 24 chain ring on the front and a couple of 30 –some things on the rear cluster.

Today is a practice ride up the mountain and so is it is an unsupported event. Although we must register with race director, Mary Power, there is no mass start, no official timing, and no medal for finishing. We arrive at the base of the mountain at 4:30 am for a warm up ride and are ready to start our ride at 5 am. Our driver starts out ahead of us and will pull off to the side of the road periodically to make sure we are ok and to take photos.

We are fortunate to have a beautiful morning to ride. It is cool, but not cold, and the winds are light. As we warm up, a full rainbow develops in the sky right over Mt. Washington.

The first two miles I work on breathing and finding my rhythm. "Enjoy each pedal stroke," I say to myself, "Don't anticipate what is around the corner. The only thing that matters is this pedal stroke." So I breathe and I pedal and I listen to the spring warblers and the waterfalls. Within the first half mile my coach has already put a significant gap on me. But I don’t worry about it. I just let it go and pedal and breathe.

I pass the two mile marker and the road levels out a bit. I practice shifting and adjust my position on the bike to give my back a break. I'm in the moment. That is, I’m in the moment until the voices of doubt (which I call The Committee) start working their way to my conscience thoughts. The Committee speaks: "That first two miles wasn’t so bad but it really seems to be getting steeper now. And wow….have you got a long way to go yet."

The brief respite around mile 2 doesn’t last and the grade quickly picks up. And it stays steep. It is quite peaceful being the only rider on the road but the constancy of the grade gets The Committee to chattering about how this is only the practice ride and I don’t really have to finish because it doesn’t really count and it is very steep after all and who knows how much steeper it will get around the corner.

At mile 5 I leave tree line and am greeted by the rugged granite boulder landscape that I love so much about the White Mountains. The views are amazing and the wind is still very light. However by this point the road has turned to packed gravel and dirt. My rear wheel periodically slips as I climb sending waves of anxiety through me. I try not to look too far ahead because the road seems to stretch on forever and there is no break from the grade.

The Committee starts pelting me with less than helpful observations and questions. "You've never been really good riding on dirt so I hope you don't fall. Did you know that your left foot is falling asleep? How about that stabbing pain in your lower back? I wonder what the grade is now…must be about 18% don’t you think?"

Fortunately The Committee is not my only company on the ride. Our support driver stops every once in awhile along the course and cheers me and shouts out instructions from my coach.

I pass signs marking elevations of 4,000 and then 5,000. The grade is relentless but the view is awe inspiring. Riders who started the climb after me now start to pass me. We chat briefly about our luck with the weather and about what gears we are using and then they are off. Supporters of another rider who have stopped along the road give me a cheer as I round another corner and start up a section of the dirt that appears impossible to ride up. My impending panic is interrupted by a rider behind me who is singing at the top of his lungs to the tune of Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” a song he has made up about climbing the mountain. The Committee is stunned into silence for a few minutes. I can’t help but smile because that rider reminds me that we are out here to enjoy being on our bikes and test ourselves in a most amazing place.

After almost two hours of constant pedaling and intense focus the dirt ends and I’m on a beautiful patch of new pavement. It is a wonderful thing, pavement. It is still steep but at least I’m not on dirt. I climb on. My left foot is almost completely asleep and I have shooting pains down my right leg from my lower back. The ever helpful Committee notes that I probably should have done more core workouts this winter to strengthen my abs and lower back.

I look ahead and see my coach waiting for me in the distance near the 6,000 foot elevation marker. As I join her she tells me we are near the top but it doesn't really sink in until we round the corner and I look up and see the Mt. Washington Observatory directly ahead. I have actually made it (almost) to the top of Mt. Washington!

My coach gives me instructions on how to position myself for the final turn. I think I’m at the top when suddenly there is a sharp right turn and what I think at first is a wall and then realize is still the road. I'm not sure if I should sit or stand to tackle a 22% grade but I do know I need to pedal like I'm being chased by an angry, hungry bear. Midway up my front wheel lifts off the pavement. I lean forward and stomp on my pedals. I vaguely hear shouts of encouragement from the other riders who are watching from the sidelines.

Suddenly, I'm on level ground. I hear my coach yell, "Grab her bike!" Hands come out of nowhere to steady my bike as I unclip from my pedals and try to stand. I'm a little wobbly as the blood supply returns to my right leg and left foot. As I look back towards the base of the mountain I can only see mountain peaks jutting up through the clouds.

It is a beautiful morning and I just biked up to the top of Mt. Washington. No climb will ever be the same after this.