Riding mountains

So you may be thinking, I get the beautiful scenery, the forests, the mountains, the streams, the quiet back roads, but what's with the steep climbs? Who wants that? It's not for everybody, but the hard climbs provide a personal challenge, the descents are the reward for all the hard work.

As a point of clarification, there is a difference between riding mountains and mountain biking: riding mountains to me, means riding road bikes on mountain roads. Not paths, not trails. Mountain biking involves riding a purpose built bike designed for off-road. No matter who you are, climbing is hard and takes extreme effort. If you’re good at it, you just go faster. You are carrying your own bodyweight, plus that of your bike and any additional accessories uphill. The steeper the grade, the harder it is. 

Doesn’t sound very appealing, but somehow it is. The call of the hill. While there’s not very much in the way of flat riding in the Catskills– you can find yourself negotiating a 17% climb within 10 minutes of leaving home – there are specific roads that we call “climbs”. If they’re too short, they don’t count. If they’re long but not steep enough, they don’t count. Those that count, are the ones we go after. There is a start and a finish line and a timer, which makes it a time trial of sorts. It’s just that no one besides us cares what the results are. In a real time trial, the results are published for everyone to see. It’s cool to compare yourself to yourself. Day to day, week to week, or year to year.  

I have a like-hate relationship with some of the bigger climbs. At the top of the list of nasty ones is Devil’s Kitchen. It is as much of a mental challenge as it is physical. Although, if you are not in shape, no amount of mental toughness will help you. I sometimes get nervous the night before the ride and when we are getting close to the climb, I get really nervous. Why I am not sure. I know I can do it, so it’s not fear of failure. Well, maybe a little bit. If your legs are not ready, you could crack. Getting off and walking is not a great option in part because it can be very difficult to remount the bike. But it is probably self-imposed pressure – performance anxiety. I haven’t determined if this nervousness helps, hinders or makes no difference but it probably doesn’t really matter since I have little control over it. If it were adrenaline, it would help, but it is something much milder.

This past Sunday – my birthday - after being down here for over two weeks, we finally make it to Platte Clove Road, also known as Devil’s Kitchen. The ride to the base is about 2 hours and 15 minutes, during which time I conserve my energy for the big climb, which is to say, I ride slowly, not over-exerting myself.

There is a fast 20 minute section along Saugerties Road just outside of Woodstock that leads to Platte Clove. The group of us all get on Paul’s wheel and motor along that section. At the end of the road, it drops down to a stop sign and a three-way intersection. Turning left onto Platte Clove Road it is about one kilometer at a gradient of 1-2% before the climb. Platte Clove is a narrow, winding paved road with no shoulder. Although it is repaved often, the pavement deteriorates quickly. On the left is a canyon far below; to the right is the side of the mountain rising up sharply. Gurgling streams trickle down off the mountain side and both sides of the road are lined with trees providing much-needed shade for most of the first half of the climb.

The nasty part starts by flipping up to 15%, backs off for a few metres, then flips up to 15% again. There are short breaks in the steepness that allow a few meters of spinning, but the farther you go, the steeper it gets. About halfway up, there is a short section known as “the wall” that measures 23%. This is where many cyclists have to get off and walk, if they are foolish enough to attempt to ride the Kitchen with inadequate gearing. I have been one of them in the past. If you get up that part, there is a right hand bend in the road where it is wide open to the canyon below with only a guard rail between you and a sheer drop-off.  You can “res” for a few seconds where the road “flattens” to 12%, before it increases to 17%. By now I am usually gasping for air and grinding down on the pedals wondering if I will make it to the top before I collapse from exhaustion.

At the top, there is a small parking area where we all meet. We discuss our individual times and power numbers. Mine is off the mark by quite a bit, but this is no surprise. I know by feel if I am making lesser or greater power. Disappointing but it is always an accomplishment to finish that climb regardless of the numbers. I chalk it up as training for the next one. I am happy that it is behind me. Now it is off to Tannersville, a 30-minute ride to our lunch stop. And then the fun part: 15 kilometers of descending. Now I can use whatever I have left in my legs. No holding back now; use up whatever energy you have left. The ride home is faster, more painful and a lot of fun.