Sur La Plaque, Part Trois: Monkey in the Middle
Climbing is something I enjoy more than I am good at it; any time I see a new road pointing up to the heavens, I find myself irresistibly drawn to explore where it leads. Every season I come to the conclusion that my training routes are all very hilly and I arrive at the brilliant idea that I should plot out a new course which seeks out the flattest roads in town, allowing for an easy spin every now and again. As I ride happily along my new, rolling route, I will notice a twisty road snaking its way toward the sky and I will be helpless to resist exploring it. Before long, the route is as hard as any of the others. I simply can’t stop myself seeking out new climbs.
The beauty of climbing is found in its contrasts, in the beautiful duality of suffering and being in control – of burning muscles which somehow still feel strong and powerful. At 80 kilos and 193cm I will never be a good climber, but there is a magic zone of gradients between six and eight percent where I can get the guns turning over easily despite the pressure in my lungs and legs. At those gradients, I can feel myself sitting steady in the saddle, raising out of it occasionally to keep the gear ticking over or to offer some respite to my muscles. Beyond eight percent is a zone of gradients upon which I never feel comfortable; to maintain the tempo requires all my concentration; I feel the hill clawing at my jersey, pulling me back down to the valley. I can never seem to find the right cadence in this zone; either I’m spinning too much or I’m falling behind the gear. But beyond 12 percent, I find a renewed strength; despite my grotesque weight I am somehow still able to find the power to keep the wheels turning round. At these gradients there is little you can do apart from pushing on the pedals; skill and elegance have less little to do with it than does being stubborn and a bit dim.
The Prophet once said that to ride a time trial, you should start as fast as possible, and finish as fast as possible. When asked about the middle, he said to ride that as fast as possible. And so it is for climbing. In part one of Sur La Plaque, we examined how to ride the end of a climb; you go as hard as you can. In part two, we examined how to approach a climb and how best to tackle the base. Again, you go as hard as you can. We left it a mystery as to what one should do when riding the middle of the climb. Guess what? You go as hard as you can.
The middle part of a climb is mentally the hardest. At the top, you can easily wrap your mind around what needs to be done: push as hard as you can and embrace the lactic acid as it floods over you; the effort will be over soon enough. The bottom can be intimidating, but you are generally fairly fresh, though you may need some time to find your rhythm. The middle is where you settle in and focus as concentration and momentum mean everything. Breathing deeply in harmony to your cadence, the key is to make sure you don’t lose your concentration as you and your bike are urged to slow ever down by the Man with the Hammer’s loyal servants: Gravity and Fatigue.
The loss of tempo happens very gradually as a gear that was smoothly turning over begins to move a little heavier. In response, the cadence slows ever so slightly until finally you need to shift gear. It is a never ending cycle that leads irrevocably to plodding along in the lowest gear. Combatting this process takes complete and total focus. Concentrate on the rhythm and your breath, and if the gradient kicks up, rise out of the saddle to keep the pace up. If the gradient requires a downshift, do so before you fall behind the gear; once you allow yourself to become overgeared you will be on the back foot for the rest of the climb.
Climbing through the monkey in the middle is as much about mental strength as it is physical. Find a steady, fast tempo, and commit everything you have to maintaining it. Also, for the purposes of this article, Sur la Plaque is a state of mind more than it is a chain ring. And also remember that the only reason Merckx invented the inner ring is to give us a place to store the chain while replacing the worn-out Big Ring.
VLVV.
I’m recently returned from a week at Bourg D’Oisans with @strathlubnaig amongst others. In that time we managed Alpe’ D’Huez (more than once), Cols Du Glandon, Croix de Fer, Lauteret/ Galibier, D’Ornon and Sarenne amongst many beauties with no apparent name between 5 and 7km long. Climbing nirvana. One of our group insisted in using his 53 x 25 for as long as possible. He has legs of steel right enough but fails to understand why his knees complain so much.
Frank, you have eloquently put the thoughts, emotions and sensations that I felt on all of these climbs but I’m afraid that finding my rhythm meant moving from my compact plaque (I’m 50 for Pete’s sake!) and using the middle range of the block to settle into a steady 75 to 85 rpm unless things went into double digit percentages. In my defence a 25 sprocket was my largest and generally kept in reserve.
The mentally hardest part is indeed the middle when you make the mistake of looking up and seeing where the road still has to go and you get a glint of vehicle. Look back down, focus on the breathing, ride the hairpins efficiently making up 5 to 10 metres in each one and before you know it, the top seems so much closer (save for that hidden hairpin that always seems to double way back on itself!)
Now standing by for Fausto Crappy / Scooby Doo or whatever his handle is to tell me to toughen up, have half a case of Mountain Dew and remove the inside ring and pedal at 100rpm like he does!
Excellent as usual Frank. The middle sections of a climb are usually when my breathing falls in sync with my pedal strokes and is a useful gauge of my effort and what reserves there may be for later.
As to taking advice from the Prophet, I always take it with a grain of salt. Kinda akin to getting weight lifting advice from Hercules, which can have limited human applications.
Saturday morning, in foreign territory on unknown paths, I found myself doing just that…
“Hey, that road points up… I wonder how far it goes?”
A while later, while the Man with the hammer whispered in my ear, I found myself tempted by le toute petite plaque and I knew it was time to channel my inner Sagan back down to the stable.
Thanks for that Frank.
Whenever I need inspiration and motivation to get out and Ride the Bike, I can always rely on your good self.
Goughie..
As the name suggests the beginning, middle and end are one and the same for me but I still try to seek out the hills. Fortunately I am not completely devoid of lumps in the rolling south east Kent, UK countryside but they are short and not always steep.
@JohnB
There wasn’t a chap called Arvy in your group was there?
Also, despite being 80kgs myself I have decided that I am a natural climber. I have always found that 90% is in your head. The other 10% must be what the 50kg 18 year olds have when they sit in for the whole climb then sprint me at the top. They should try it with an extra 30kgs and a bunch of beers from the night before. Nothing sweats out a good hangover like a good good steady climb.
Strong work, nice words, Frank!
I’ve only done one (long!) day of real climbing. I considered throwing my bike into the woods when I got to the Middle. I even stopped and sat on the guard rail. “I don’t get paid enough to do this.” A minute later I was back on the bike. A hard day, but I’m looking forward to doing more long, serious climbing.
Climbing, golf & sex…the only things you don’t have to be good at and can still enjoy. Oh wait…
Love the bit about gearing down early so that you can stay on top of that next gear. Too often I gear down only to think…”now what the hell, did the gear even change”? – knowing in my heart and my head that I’m already drowning in an easier ratio and that I’m already fucked with no one to blame but myself!
Great stuff, Frank. The most rewarding part for me is the view from the top and the knowing that you did it……Mt. Hamilton looking south to Monterey Bay. A few of the Velominati have been up this road. The worst part is that you can see the summit from about 8 miles away while pedaling up to it. I love the guys who say, “just make sure your upper body is relaxed”. What are you talking about? – everything hurts!
The best description of the process of a challenging climb I have ever read. Thanks for putting into words the sublime experience that I think is the essence of cycling- yet an almost every day experience.
Another who will never be considered a climber, I can certainly appreciate this. I’ve learned to really love the steady 3,4,5,6%.. even when it’s in Colorado and goes on for miles. Something about this singular effort which is more relaxing than trying to put that same effort forth on the flats.
Frank has me with the bits where it tilting up even further works for him – I can relish the lower gradients, but the double digit percentages inevitably do me in. More practice required I guess!
Reminds me of two things. First, when we were in Napa a year ago I decided that I was going to just keep riding up at one point. Turns out those hills are steeper than then seem.
Second is the parallel to the 1600 meter in high school track. The first two laps are fairly easy, and the last lap is all adrenaline. That third lap is where one can win or lose a race based entirely upon mental fortitude.
Well said, Frank. The first paragraph (even the first sentence) encapsulates my climbing – virtues and vice. I love to climb, but as hills are a staple of my teammates’ diets, I am always the tag-along kid: “come on guys…wait for meee!” And it is painful. Yet on a solo ride, I am still drawn upward.
Timely article @frank. We are just moving into a strength and endurance block. Hill repeats here I come. I don’t wish to be a climber, I just wish I sucked at it less.
For me, I’d rather have 15-19percent for 4 miles, than the mind numbing 4 percent for 20 miles found on some of the local scenic routes.
Is this only me, or does anyone else find this to be true?
Last week’s Southeast Regional Series road race, w/this month’s stop in AL, included a climb up Gunters Mountain. 2km+ w/avg grade 8%. The circuit was 2 loops for CAT 4/5 old guys race. So, twice the fun. For pro’s.. yahhn. For amateurs ? An effort. I’ve posted this before, the sole purpose, IMO, of climbing, is to go back down and in this case, the price of admission, the CAT 3 rated climb, was worth the ride back down the other side of the mountain from town of Grant, AL. Narrow, two lane, tree lined, shade covered, twisty but no brakes needed and flat out fastest at bottom with enough speed to gap anyone not paying attn as headed in to valley bottom rollers. Frank, I love climbing, irresistible, getting it dialed in, finding the gear, but dang, it really sucks compared coming back down the other side. A view from the top of the climb taken post race… yea, it’s just Alabama but it is pretty cool w/blue skies and sunshine. Cool post. Go as fast as possible front, middle and back… perfect. Cheers, RC
@Fausto Crapiz 15-19% for 4 miles ? I doubt I’ll ever try that. Sucks for me… not.
@frank – “I feel the hill clawing at my jersey, pulling me back down to the valley”
Yes, this !
My middle jersey pocket is slightly stretched, more so than the left and right, due to the above.
Rapha need to make their middle pockets a bit more sturdy for the likes of me !
@Fausto Crapiz
You should get out more….. Try 5 ways to Look Rock. 3 climbs over 10%, but just a measly 5 km. Probably not worth the effort of such a manbeast as yourself…
Oh yeah, and two boring scenic climbs to get you warmed up. (Hence the five in 5 Ways)
That photo reminds me that we miss Roadslave525…
I hate to suck the romance and poetry out of this thread (when I say ‘hate’, I mean ‘secretly like’) but having a power meter and data has made so much difference to my climbing.
I’m of similar dimensions to Frank and while I can’t dance on the pedals for that last 500m like the little guys who are 20 kilos lighter in the last year I’ve done some of my best times up the local climbs of about 10km at 1200-1250 VAM. I’m not far behind the mountain goats and I’m consistently ahead of guys I would never have dreamed of beating. On Box Hill as a reference for those who know it I’m doing under 6 and a half minutes (in fact I’m on the same Strava time as Laurent Jalabert but I assume he wasn’t trying too hard).
Not by going as fast as possible at the beginning, middle and end. To me that’s a recipe for going too hard at the beginning, suffering in the middle and clinging on/wishing for death at the end.
I know my power capacity and I know how long I can stay at certain levels for a given duration, so I can be pretty sure that I have actually climbed the best I can by sitting on or above my threshold power to weight and judging my effort accordingly.
Call me Chris Froome, but it works.
Kid’s got me a drive voucher in a vehicle that would blow Rule #25 right up for Father’s Day last year. Cashed in the voucher a couple of weeks back.
The drive was around my favourite part of the world, The Mornington Peninsula. After the drive, took the steed and kit out of my car and had a enjoyable time suffering over the rolling hills.
This was one of the road’s our club use to race on/up. And the road surface is dead. Gotta get me some of those “good legs” for tempo.
@Barracuda
Geez! That road surface looks like power sucking deadness!
@sthilzy –
Yes, its quite a leg sapping surface, I did it in the dark the other night and was much quicker as the brain and body couldnt confuse each other.
Having said that, the Gallardo you drove would eat it up. How was the sound in the cockpit ? Awesome I bet. Loves me some V10 at full noise
@ChrisO
I know you’re not a fan of instagram, but he’s been posting up a storm lately about the bike tour he’s currently on…seems he’s doing some similar types of rides to the one that produced the lead photo…
On a totally unrelated note, I hate you Europeans!
So, I’m mildly confused. As an article on the mental aspects of hill-climbing, it was not bad. But the awkward attempt to include “sur la plaque” as part of the thought process didn’t really work.
That rule should be re-written as ” use the right gear”. I had a bit of a discussion about this with a fellow called Alex Simmons recently, an interesting chap, who is a professional trainer, who recently trained one of his clients to a Masters World Hour Record, so he has what you might call a good track record. I e-mailed Alex while researching this subject and his interpretation of “sur la plaque” was, “bloody silly”, or summat thereabouts.
The formula is Power = Torque x RPM. Now, I was asking Alex if he had any studies on the torque curve of the human leg, and he gave me some links, but they were all looking at torque at different parts of the pedal rotation, which is obviously least to the top and bottom, and maximises at the 90 degree position. Throughout the rev range though, it’s reasonable to assume that the torque curve is flat, which means that the only way yo increase power is to increase RPM, which means optimising the gear selection. It’s interesting to see that the whole pro world ignores the exhortation to “sur la plaque” and prefers to choose the right gear. Getting that right is a good start to getting your head right.
I’m sure someone will quote The Disciple at this point, and link to the ascent, but a pro on the juice is another proposition, isn’t it ?
Ken, Ken, Ken… tl;dr?
Had you gone past the headline you might have noticed
As for citing a Masters World Hour Record in an article about climbing. I don’t think the banking on a velodrome counts.
@VeloSix
Ok. Where is this? Simply googling doesn’t work. (I now know how to Rock Ariat boots while looking like a punk rocker) Do you have some kind of a GPS map for the ride?
Thanks
@Velosix P.S. Just did Cherohala challenge and found myself wanting to play angry birds on the way up, it was that boring.
@Fausto Crapiz
You do realize that if you don’t go pro and prove your awesomeness on the hills, there likely will be a petition to formally change your name to “Douche.” Better still would be to move to England and get knighted. “Sir Douche” has a nice ring to it.
Going as hard as you can at the start of a long climb (and I’m talking a mountain that will take you an hour+) is a BS strategy and will lead to one thing and one thing only – you not finishing the climb as hard as you can, despite you trying to go as hard as you can.
Start at about 80% of whatever measure or feel you choose to use, ramp it up midway through and finish strong. You’ll soon realise you are passing the foolish who go at it 100% from the bottom.
It may not sound as romantic, but getting over multiple passes and reflecting on success with a post ride recovery beverage makes it so.
Climbs? Beginning, middle, end? I know not of what you speak. Here in SE Wisconsin we have lumps. Lots of nasty little lumps that start and finish. Oh what I’d give to climb a real mountain!
ps Barracuda, Looks like gravity’s been at your socks too!
@ChrisO
I have been using a power meter now for a little over a month. Wow, what a difference it makes to my climbing. I’m the 72 kg, 183 cm type (almost the same stature as Sagan, minus the guns); so not a pure climber, but decent enough to stay close to the little billy goats. Simply being able to pace properly, has made such a difference to getting over a hill. I have not raced with it yet, and don’t really have a plan for that. However, I think it will have great benefits for TT efforts as well.
My problem is in a road race, the climbers always seem to hammer the bottom of a climb, where I immediately want to go to my rhythm. (Those in the 5 km length and beyond)
As a result, I’m changing the way I train, hitting the bottom of a climb pretty hard (quite a bit over threshold) then getting into a rhythm, and trying to survive at the top. The steeper 10%+ grades make this hard as hell, and I will actually face this once more in my second to last race of the year. I have no visions of grabbing the KOM, but maybe it will keep me closer to the front, and higher on the leader board at the end of the day.
If anything, my adjustment to training, I’m hammering the base of a climb harder than has been done in my races, and hopefully for my next race, I’ll at least be less shocked by the pace at the base of a good climb.
@Fausto Crapiz
I assume you know where the Foothills Parkway is? At the top is Look Rock. There are 5 climbs to Look Rock. Climb them all in one ride. 160 km, 3048 m.
@Fausto Crapiz
Boring huh? Riding a bicycle on the legendary Tail of the Dragon is boring? Descending over 100 km/h puts you to sleep? Might want to rethink doing 5 Ways to Look Rock. Those steep climbs that keep you interested in life, you’ll also have to descend….. http://app.strava.com/activities/153476035/
@VeloSix Totally agree – using power doesn’t mean just sitting on a number the whole way up.
But it means that if I need to do 400 watts just to keep up at the base of a 45 minute climb then I know I haven’t got long. If it eases back in time then great, if it keeps going then I have to drop off.
There’ve been several races where I’ve done that and ended up reeling in guys who tried to keep up with the mountain goats for too long and ended up blowing.
It’s very rare that anyone catches and passes me on a climb if we all start together. Some will drop me, and some will drop me and I’ll catch them but I almost never blow up.
@Ccos
HAHAHA. .that’s not what I mean. It’s a long, straight, unshaded climb with no breaks. Tough but boring.
@ChrisO
That is certainly a balance I have to work out. How long can I lay down 400 W along side the little guys spinning like hamsters, and still have a healthy reserve for my rhythm climbing for the long haul when they settle down.
If it’s a hilltop finish, I want to blow it out, but timing it right is tough (This is where I hope the power helps). If the climb is early or mid race, then I want to stay close enough to make up on the descent or after. Making it over a climb alone in no man’s land, between the climbers and the Clydesdales just sucks.
@wiscot
Makes it a bit interesting to train here for real climbing. I’m headed out to Kent Eriksen’s Tour de Steamboat next month. While I’ve ridden in CO, nothing this long (110 miles) combined with this kind of climbing (7,500 feet) …
My framebuilder tells me his brother, who looks great in rosa, will be there. Free massages at the end, with beer flowing at the post-ride barbeque, so I have lots to which to look forward. But climbing in WI is a bit different.
@ChrisO
That is certainly a balance I have to work out. How long can I lay down 400 W along side the little guys spinning like hamsters, and still have a healthy reserve for my rhythm climbing for the long haul when they decide to settle down some, if ever.
If it’s a hilltop finish, I want to blow it out, but timing it right is tough (This is where I hope the power helps). If the climb is early or mid race, then I want to stay close enough to make up on the descent or after. Making it over a climb alone in no man’s land, between the climbers and the Clydesdales just sucks.
@Fausto Crapiz
You have to work your delivery dude. Rule #72 Nobody wants to listen to you tell us, or read how you infer, what a manbeast you are.
We are not here to whip out our dicks and measure them in front of each other. We are here for the love of cycling. Take the rules and all the hard man shit in the spirit it is intended. If a climb of 4250′ of gain is beneath you and lulls you to sleep, that’s fine. But you’re in the wrong place to talk shit about it.
@teleguy57
Sounds like a good time! Yup, here in WI (or at least my part of it) it’s more Amstel or Flanders in terms of short, sharp climbs. Did a nice one last night that was just a real rollercoaster in parts (West Bend – Kewaskum – Campbellsport -Lake Bernice – Town of Ashford – Theresa – Kohlsville – West Bend). 88kms of pure WI landscape at it’s finest – lush green fields, red barns, blue skies, white fluffy clouds, very quiet roads the whole way.
@wiscot
“WI landscape at it’s finest – lush green fields, red barns, blue skies, white fluffy clouds, very quiet roads the whole way.” Perfect for creating a cogal one day — next year?
@unversio
Nah, I need to get a cogal set for this year. Maybe a fall one when the colors are turning. Early October. And yep, it’ll go on many of last night’s roads.
@wiscot
Fall would be wonderful — bookend the season with the Cheesehead Roubaix tête de la course and a fall cogal arrière du peloton.
Now as to type of climbing, when one is the same weight as Magnus Bäckstedt (my now favorite commentator by far) but 11ish cm shorter, well, both helligen and grinding alpine slogs are just plain painful. That’s why my frame sticker reads “Presque Rouleur;” no grimpeur here!
@pink Sorry no Arvy.
Photo courtesy of @strathlubnaig, a master of the compact camera on the move. Over the Col de Sarenne and heading up towards the back of Alpe D’Huez. It was a beautiful day, a thought that didn’t really register until we were over the top.
To make a climb interesting take a bit of Bianche Strade from near wherever you are, a gradient suitable for a mountain bike and ride it on a totally unsuitable vintage road bike (photos never look as steep as it really is)………
I always thoroughly enjoy seeing the cool places folks have been riding lately.
Nothing too exciting route-wise for me of late, but darn, I LOVE summertime and being able to let the heat dissipate and ride late into the evening. Work all day, ride late, get home and read some cycling books, then head to bed.
Work, ride, read, sleep. I’m easily appeased!
@Ron
Atta boy! “Eat, Sleep, Train, Repeat”*… what else is there?
*yes, most need to jamb “work” in there someplace.
@VeloSix Looking forward to doing that look rock thing. Thanks for telling me about it.