After having done support for two Epic Camp trips and Gordo’s training road trips, the Five Passes Tour was to be my first adventure outside the van. I arrived in New Zealand a month before the Tour and promptly rolled into some high volume training to prep for it – up to 30 hours a week. The week of the Tour we eased off and I started feeling pretty tired. By the time the Tour start arrived, I started second-guessing if I should even be doing this. The first day on the road was going to be over 130 miles and I'd only ridden 112 miles a few times before - each in an Ironman. This was a whole new ballgame for me and I was going to be heading out with some seriously strong riders.
Day One started on Thursday night with a mini-tri prologue. I wussed out and skipped the tri. Just too bloody cold for me and I wasn’t feeling all that overly motivated to jump in freezing waters in cold temps. No way was I going to get wet and then get on my bike. Been there, done that, burned the t-shirt. I remembered all too well what that was like at the Queenstown race back in January. I did, however, take the cyclists option and ride Evans Pass. That was a sweet climb with fresh legs. Didn’t take too long before I was feeling great. Just like coming off a taper.
After the mini-tri, we all congregated at Coffee Culture in Sumner for the Tour welcome, briefing and schwag hand-outs. It looked to be a great crew for this Tour – 25 riders in all with two more joining for the Saturday/Sunday only option. By the end of the night I was looking forward to the Tour. It was going to be long and challenging, but I was ready for it. This weekend would be all about the bike for me. I was purposely leaving my wetsuit and swimsuit at home. ;-)
Day Two was the beginning of four long days in the saddle. We all met at the Coffee Culture in Sumner and rolled out in one big pack at first light. The orders were for a “neutral” paceline for the first 40 miles heading out of town. I’d never ridden in a paceline that size before and was quite excited about it – also a little nervous. The pack started off at 18 mph then picked it up to 20 mph then up to 22 mph. I was hanging on until they picked it up even more. Slow even a single pedal stroke and I was 10 feet off the back. My heart rate would jack up every time I busted it to get back on and I kept thinking, “I can’t ride 200+ KMs (125+ miles) at this heart rate.” It was only the second hour into the tour and I just about broke mentally the third time I fell off the paceline. It was going so fast that every time I fell off it was so hard to get back on. I settled myself when I finally said, “screw it, I’m sticking to my own pace.” It turned into a great day then.
The first stop was in Amberley. It was a quick aid station stop and I was left behind in the ‘loo as the crew rolled out. I came out to see everyone rolling down the road and quickly got rolling while laughing. Now there were two groups on the Tour. The lead pack consisted of 24 riders and the chase pack consisted of one rider – me. ;-) Not only was I the only rider in the chase pack, I had the last rider vehicle on my wheel. Gotta say that was a little unnerving hearing that car behind me. I got over it eventually.
Riding into Culverden for lunch I was dive-bombed by a magpie. It was one of those silent ones that will take a chunk out of you if they can. Fortunately the sun was in my favour and I could see it swooping down in time to duck. Rather entertaining although it didn’t much help that I was riding on a driveway of loose gravel. This would mark the end of the flat terrain of the Tour. We would ride a steady diet of rollers and hills from here for the next three days.
By the time we passed Hanmer Springs, some 95 miles or so into the ride, the gentle rollers became steep and sharp like on the Ironman course at Lake Placid. The wind had picked up and it had begun to rain. I was now riding with two others – one bold fellow was on a mountain bike. He broke on one of the headwind hills about 10 miles from Engineer’s Camp and hopped in the car. The other girl that was with me fell behind so I had the trail vehicle off my wheel finally. ;-) I was starting to feel pretty good out there.
At Engineers Camp, the wind and rain were picking up and it was getting quite cold. I pulled on some dry socks, put my booties back on, swapped to my foul weather gloves and put on another layer. I was now heading out with a group of five, however, a few hills later we had fractured and I rode the rest of the way with one fellow named Chris. He was also training for IMNZ. It would be his first IM.
The terrain changed again. We’d moved from short steep rollers ala Lake Placid to longer stair-stepping rollers ala Ironman Canada’s Richter Pass. They got longer but not steeper. We pedaled along wet and cold and climbing into green lush forest. It was much different here than the dry bare hills of Christchurch on the east coast.
The last three miles into Maruia Springs where we would spend the night was a fast descent down the other side of Lewis Pass. That would have been an awesome descent if not for the fog, pouring rain, strong winds and cold. Cold, ha! I was bloody freezing coming down that pass!
At dinner Scott Molina asked me if I had any challenging moments out there. I chuckled and said the only challenging moment was that second hour into the Tour when I fell off the pack for the third time. He raised a surprised eyebrow. One of the girls that hopped in the car for the last 18 miles of the day said I was getting stronger as the day went on. Not really, I said. I was just riding my steady pace consistently while others were riding above theirs and falling back.
At the end of the day I had spent 10 hours in the saddle, covered 136 miles of which only the first 40 were flat, and I felt great. The only casualty of the day was my left shoulder. It was pretty stiff and definitely due for a massage. I intended to have one before I turned in, but after a meal and a hot shower, I wasn’t leaving my room again until the morning.
Day Three we woke to a cold and foggy morning and I was feeling ready to get rolling. We rolled out a full pack of 27 with two new riders in for the Sat/Sun option of the Tour, and stayed together as one pack all the way to the foot of Rahu Saddle. The ride there was invigorating along a quiet winding highway canopied by moss-covered beech trees that were footed by ferns. Specs of sunlight poked through the green canopy and flickered on the road, flashing brightly off the backs of multi-coloured jerseys. I couldn’t help but grin all the way into the “bottomless valley”.
We stopped at the bottom of Rahu Saddle long enough for Peter, the Tour organizer, to establish two packs for the five-mile climb. I was in the B group and we headed out 10 minutes ahead of the A group. It wasn’t long before I was off the back on the climb. I was feeling great, had lots of energy, could get my HR up, but my legs were feeling a touch on the mushy side. Up over the top and then an awesome descent. Downhill being my thing, I caught back up to my group, passed just about everyone from the A group and kept on cruising. I knew it wouldn’t be long before another rise would pop up and they’d all be on me. I was right. ;-)
Back into the rollers I fell in with a group of ladies – Trish, Mel, Denise and Shirley. The five of us worked a nice paceline all the way into the next aid station stop in Reefton. The scenery we were passing through was incredible. The forest was thick and dense. Beech trees covered in moss, the earth below them a soft mossy blanket and their trunks footed by tall ferns. The energy coming out of those forests was so intense, so tangible, you could almost reach out and touch it. Fill you bike bottles up with it and you'd never have to stop. No wonder they filmed Lord of the Rings here. I felt like I could walk out into that forest and come across all kinds of mystical creatures. It was magical. Occasional green meadows opened up to views of tall mountains that kept reminding me of Jurassic Park. Amongst the lush west coast vegetation were small palm trees. I’m thinking maybe this land really is sub-tropical.
After the Reefton stop I was on my own again, cruising along having myself a great day. B group ahead of me, A group behind me, and no trail vehicle on my wheel. I was enjoying everything and then I a bug crashed into one of my helmet vents. I had just enough time to think, “gee, hope that wasn’t a bee...” before I felt the sting. Ahhh! I slammed on the brakes, skidded to a stop, yanked off my helmet, and there he was. Dead as a doorknob. Fortunately I was wearing a bandana under my helmet and the poor little dude whacked himself good before he could do any serious damage to me. I got a little poke, but enough to swell into a nice little bubble the next day. My first “bee in the helmet” experience. I thought that went along well with my first “magpie dive-bombing” experience of the day prior.
After a quick stop in Stillwater I headed out with the B group. We were now a pack of seven and we stuck together the rest of the ride into Lake Brunner. Dave Dwan took charge of the paceline, calling out pull shifts and offering pack riding tips. One of the things I noticed from the day prior was that in my inexperience in the paceline, I was riding a little tense in the shoulders and wasn’t eating or drinking as much. Dave’s tips were a huge help and I began to feel a little more comfortable amongst the other riders.
After dinner I had a full hour’s massage just on my shoulders. They were stiff as all get out and the left one was starting to hurt a little. I ended the day with 5.5 hours of saddle time and another 92 miles on my tires. Best part of all is I was still feeling great. Scott Molina gave a little talk after dinner, but by 8pm I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore and had to call it a night.
Oh yeah, I’m just like the guys on Epic Camp now! Bet my roommate wishes she could bunk with someone else. ;-)
Day Four started with a 30K time trail in the pouring rain and near gale-force winds. Calling it 'horrific' weather wouldn’t be an understatement. I was feeling a little tired today, slow getting going. Sleep had been fairly uncomfortable due to my shoulder and my legs were feeling somewhat rubbery. I wasn’t really looking forward to a time trial and decided I’d just continue on at my steady pace, hopefully saving myself for the Arthurs Pass climb. Gordo had told me prior to the Tour that if I can get up that pass, no climb will ever scare me again.
Since the time trial went in reverse order of GC standings, I would go off first. I wasn’t at the bottom of the GC, but the two below me had started off on the ride about a half hour earlier. In hindsight, I wished I had gone off with them. We were sent off in 30-second intervals and it wasn’t long before I was passed... by everyone. ;-) Only 20 minutes into the ride and I was soaked through to the bone. The winds were insane. This would have to rate up there with my Top 3 worst riding weather conditions, sitting only behind riding in hail in Boulder. The road was an inch deep in running water, any car that passed sent a wall of water over me. Not that it made any difference. I mean, once you’re wet, you’re wet, and you’re not going to get any wetter. That wasn’t the half of it though. It was the wind. It couldn’t decide which direction it wanted to blow and hit me from every angle. When it was behind me I was flying. When it was ahead of me I was barely moving. When it came up beside me it sent me clear across to the other side of the road. I was grateful I’d run to the store at the last minute pre-Tour and bought a balaclava. Pelting rain hurts the face almost as much as hail.
Rain and wind and dead legs aside, I was feeling fantastic and actually quite enjoying the ride. It certainly wasn’t boring. There were two stops before we were to climb Arthurs Pass. The first stop was in Jacksons at the end of the time trial. The second was in Otira at the foot of Arthurs Pass where riders could get more clothing for the climb. It would be cold up there. Not that it wasn’t already cold below.
When I rolled into Jacksons, Peter pulled the plug on me. The leaders were starting to arrive in Otira and they didn’t want them standing around there too long waiting for their gear. Due to time considerations, I had to get in the car and drive the next 12 miles. I was seriously bummed and told Peter this damages my mission to ride the whole tour. I could keep riding. I was able to keep riding. And above all else, I wanted to keep riding. I also knew that if I got in that car instead of my bike right then, that I wouldn’t get back on. The cold and wet were starting to take effect and I could feel my body temperature dropping. I didn’t have a second round of dry rain gear to wear and my gloves were so soaked that it was like turning on a tap when I squeezed my hands into fists.
So, in the car I got feeling disappointed and embarrassed. That was absolutely the last place I wanted to be, and then people would see me in the car. More importantly, my coach would see. I’d failed.
In Otira the weather was so horrific that Peter decided it was too dangerous for anyone to climb Arthurs Pass. There was a viaduct section near the top that was exposed and if a gale crosswind hit you, you could quite possibly be tossed right off the bridge. Not to mention, the road was narrow and winding. I didn’t feel quite so bad then, knowing that none of us would be riding the pass.
So there we were, 27 cyclists and five support drivers all piled into this little pub dumping all our gear out on the floor and changing into dry clothing. Quite the scene really.
Thank goodness up in Arthurs Pass Village we had wood burning stoves and space heaters in each room. Those hearty Kiwi souls accustomed to the elements went out for a run, while I enjoyed some quiet time with Frank Sinatra beside the toasty roaring fire. Sweet!
I only got in 22 miles of riding today. I suppose it was just as well. My mind, heart and lungs were rolling along, but my legs had nothing in them at all. Bit of a rest day it became.
Day Five was truly the best day of the Tour and the day I felt the strongest. We were now split into three groups – A, B and C. I rolled out with the eight-rider group C in cold wind and rain mixed with snow. It didn’t take long for the weather to break once we dropped into the valley and things began to warm up. The group did a great job of sticking together and the riding was the best yet. I was feeling strong, like I hadn’t already ridden more than 200 miles over the last few days.
It was a full 90 minutes before group B caught up to us and two members of our crew hopped on their wheels. Then came Flock Hill. Nasty bit of business that one was. About a mile long and as steep as that last bit into Ward back in Colorado for those in the know. For those not in the know, think something upwards of a 15% or so grade. Its one of those climbs where you have to commit 100% to it and just grind it up. Nobody had another gear to shift to and I was moving at all of three miles per hour with a heart rate of 150+. Just incase anyone has ever wondered, you won’t fall over at 3 mph. ;-)
The A group was coming up on me now, but none of them was Gordo. Hmm... I got to the top, stopped for a quick banana and then boogied on to more rollers and wicked descents. The next hill of note was longer though not nearly as steep as Flock Hill. I look over my shoulder and there’s Gordo. “I brought the vehicle for you,” he says. What the heck is that?! The trail vehicle has been following Gordo?! I couldn’t believe it. He laughed and said maybe Clas was onto something about the affects of run camp on your cycling.
I was absolutely loving the riding today. I was feeling on fire. The last climb was Porters Pass, which was followed by a truly amazing descent and then it would be flat all the way back to Christchurch. Flat yes, but into a stiff headwind.
After the Springfield lunch stop, group C headed out with six riders. Again, we stuck together and worked the lines nicely... until the first sprint. I actually had it in me to go for the sprint. The group fractured again after the sprint when the A/B group combo caught us and I fell into a small paceline with Mel and Trish. The three of us worked it together all the way back to Sumner. If it weren’t for them it would have been a much different ride at the end there. That last 25miles into town was a dead straight stretch of road directly into a headwind, and every time you looked up, the view was exactly the same.
I was having a blast when it was my turn to pull. I was pulling at faster than IM race pace... into a headwind... on the last day of the Tour... after riding over 300 miles. I think this tour has definitely raised my cycling endurance and strength to a new level. I am so happy I did this and am already thinking of when I can do something like it again.
So I wrapped up the Tour with another 102 miles in 6.25 hours and a little more confidence in my abilities on the bike. The only issue was my shoulder. It got so bad on the last day that I could barely reach behind to my saddle cage for a water bottle.
When it was all said and done, I’d ridden my bike 352 miles over four days and felt like I could get up and ride again the next day. I had eaten a fair bit of food that wasn’t on my normal plan as well – cereal with yogurt for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch and pasta for dinner. I never eat cereal or pasta anymore and rarely have bread. It seemed like “hollow” food to me and I was having to go for two servings to feel like I’d actually eaten. I knew there’d be some water retention from all the starchy carbs from my observations of the Epic Camp boys, so I held off on the weigh-in for two days post-Tour. Down three pounds. :-)
I followed the camp with a 10-hour solid night’s sleep and a visit to physio. My shoulder was just overloaded first from some mega-swimming leading in, and then from the long hours on the bike. It didn’t help that I was riding somewhat tense in the pack, holding my shoulders up/in tight.
This was a fabulous experience. Peter put together a great Tour and everyone was well taken care of. The whole crew were great, even if Mark's estimate of distance was a little off. ;-) This is one of those "must do" events and I'd highly recommend it to anyone and everyone.
I've also come to the conclusion that it is easier to just ride your bike all day than it is to run the support. As a participant you don't have to think about anything more than 'ride, eat, sleep and repeat'. I kind of like that. :-)