When Icarus flew too close to the sun, it was more than just the heat from the sun that caused his mighty fall; it was also the brilliance of his pride. As I contemplate my next ride up the Haleakala Highway and Crater Road which leads to the summit of Haleakala, I can’t help but wonder if the Road to the Sun together with my own pride won’t carry me too close to the sun as well.
It’s amazing how much of a climb is forgotten despite the fact that every meter is intimately experienced as we turn our pedals slowly up a grade; one gets the impression that each detail is forever burned into our memory. Riding parts of Haleakala in training, I am amazed at how inaccurate my memory of the climb is; sections I thought were short are many kilometers long; sections I thought were easy were in fact steep. Our memories are deeply distorted by our efforts and as such are not to be trusted.
This past Sunday, I did a reconnaissance ride from somewhere around 1,000′ to somewhere around 7,000′. As I rolled onto Crater Road to start the ascent along the shoulder to the crater itself, I was horrified to recognize how low the first switchback was where my body sent a palpable message to my brain to stop moving my legs during my January assault. It was at barely 3,700 feet – about a third of the way up the mountain. By 5,000 feet, I had completed the transition from suffering to death march. At 7,000 feet, with Gianni and my VMH becoming increasingly concerned I would climb in the car at any moment, the only thing keeping the pedals turning (albeit in squares) was the weight of my stubbornness.
The Trade Winds blow strongly on Maui in the summer, and the last thing I find myself craving is a headwind on the lower slopes, where the easier gradient is supposed to allow me to settle into a rhythm and ride into some sort of form. Based on weather reports, we have selected this Thursday, August 11 as the date for Frank vs. The Volcano, Part Deux. I have learned many lessons from both my previous effort and my reconnaissance. The only thing that remains to be done is to apply them, follow the plan, and pray to Merckx that I find good legs.
Last January, I rode the climb in four and a half hours. I hope to accomplish two things this time round: first, enjoy the climb a bit more (or at all) and second, improve on my time.
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Don't worry about a map - you wil get hopelessly lost with or without one. Mur du Grammont (geraardsbergen) /kapelmuur is another classic. But there are gazillions and they are everywhere/ nowhere.
If u r a sprinter then surely the kemmelburg must be ridden over more than once followed by a sprint into Wevelgem. Wear shoe covers to channel your inner Hincapie.
Just make sure you are adept at clicking out whilst at a standstill on a wet 18% climb. It may be a technique that comes in handy.
Late October? Bring your wellingtons to wevelgem!
frank...just think 53x11 and rule V
Merckx dammit Frank, we want live updates!
@Marcus
perfect, this is just the sort of advice I need - I can head off into the yonder with a free spirit of adventure now, free from the anxiety that there might be a better way of doing it!
@ChrisO
It's all about the ride and the experience. The fact that it's maleable is what keeps us coming back.
@Dr C
Indeed, the best rides will be the ones where you're lost. EPIC. Anything on the Leige Route back from Bastogne will be great; in fact, just follow the race route. (There is also a cyclosportive that does it and they paint arrows on the road that should still be there, if you're feeling like rolling the dice and can't find a route.)
Sounds like a great trip!
Post-ride update:
I'm sitting here in the sun porch of Giann's pad on Maui. The guns are aching, the lungs are still burning. Quite frankly, I feel too tired too eat, even though I'm cramming in the occasional chip with mango salsa. I'm working on my second Stella. (Too hot and too tired for a proper ale - don't worry - I'm not drinking it from a V-Pint for fear that it would cleft in two.)
The VMH did a fantastic job as solo DS on account of Gianni's insistence on being on vacation during my effort. Video was shot, photos were taken.
Optimism reigns free like a turkey in the night on the Haleakala Highway.
Riding through the clouds near 8,000 feet. The cramping and lowest-gear suffering from January are a distant memory, though suffering still abounds.
Finishing gear.
The A-Merckx sign is delivered alongside the time like a proud father.
And, without further ado...the time.
@frank
your a beast! awesome job.
You da Merckx, Frank!
Great stuff!