April 30, 2005; Devil's Punch Bowl Road Race
Devil’s Punch Bowl Road Race, the name says it all. This was a devil of a course with two laps of 16 miles each. Doesn’t sound bad until you factor in the 1500’ climb each lap. The pros had to do 5 laps and 80 miles of racing – ouch.
I knew my 190+ lbs of body weight didn’t bode well for racing this type of race. But on the other had, this race is right in my own backyard. The Punch Bowl is a cool outcropping of sedimentary rock on the North side of the San Gabriel Mountain Range. The mighty San Andreas Earth quake fault runs right by so the sedimentary rock layers have been tossed up at a very acute angle. Many T.V. viewers have seen the sister formation to the Punch Bowl in the pushed up rocks of the Vasquez Rock formation just outside of Agua Dulce, 25 miles or so to the West. I can still picture Captain Kirk fighting the Gorn with the rock formation in the background.
It was warm and very dry as I pedaled around the starting area waiting for the Masters 40+ race to get going. We started at 12:32, an unusual late starting time for a race, this also meant that it was late enough for the usual Antelope Valley winds to start blowing – oh well. About 40 of us lined up for the start of the race and we were off. The beginning of the race heads West on a slight upgrade of around 2% for about 2 miles or so then we take a left and begin heading up the road that branches off to the Devil’s Punch Bowl Park proper. The pack was a bit jumpy and a few ripples passed through the peloton. Someone said to take it easy as the upcoming climb would separate the pack anyway. After a couple of miles we passed the turnoff to the Punch Bowl on our left and continued heading South toward the town of Juniper Hills. The 2% grade began to change to an 8% plus grade and the climb was on. I was too focused to actually check it out but I could swear the first 6 miles of this race were all uphill. I knew we would climb 1500’ before the lap was done, I just didn’t think we would do it all at once.
I was bound and determined to stay with the pack regardless of the elevation gain but it wasn’t going to happen. We continued to climb until the road turns toward the West and a small descent presented itself. The descent was very short and we were soon climbing again. My heart rate monitor was showing 177! I’ve never been above 176 in my year of training – a new high. Riders were being shelled off the back and I was still in contact with the lead 20 plus riders but with my heart at redline I knew I couldn’t hold it. The road now started to turn to the North and the final rolling set of hills. I finally began to shift down the gears, my first time out of the 26-tooth sprocket of my cassette since the hills started in earnest 6 miles ago. I was definitely falling off the back of the pack now but with my heart rate still in the 170s I couldn’t possibly go any faster. My goal now was to maintain visual contact with the lead pack and rely on my downhill speed to catch up. The flip-side to being a heavy racer is that I go downhill very quickly. When I was a young sprinter on a team up in Santa Cruz I was known as a “descender” or someone that could maintain bicycle control when bombing down a steep descent at 60 plus mph. This strategy worked somewhat well. I wasn’t losing any more ground to the lead pack on the descent but I wasn’t gaining either. The famous desert wind had definitely sprung up and it was right in my face, slowing my descent to only 50 mph. The pack, with its superior aerodynamic characteristics was having an easier time with the wind. I slowed to make a sharp right turn to head East and breathed a sigh of relief that the road ahead was relatively flat. The only problem now was that the wind had a slight “Santa Ana” characteristic to it and was coming out of the North-East. So as usual, it seemed to be in my face again. Riders in the Antelope Valley swear that no matter what direction you ride the wind is always a head wind. (The wind here can change direction in a heart beat and I’ve actually had it change 180 degrees in a single ride to actually be in my face in both directions.)
I was now a single rider caught in no mans’ land. I was coming up on riders that started in other categories but you can’t work with these riders. The pack was now pulling away because they could work together in the wind. I did the only thing I could, I actually slowed down and waited for a “chase pack” to come up on me. I didn’t have to wait long, a pack of 4 masters 40 riders came up on me quickly using a fast rotation. I dropped right into them and we had a pack of 5 doing a tight rotation and not losing ground to the lead pack. This was great but the road started to go uphill again, not much but at the speed we were putting out, definitely noticeable. The other problem was that we were only a pack of 5 and the high-speed rotation was putting a lot of strain on us. As I took my turn at the front and then quickly rotated off to the right I couldn’t find the 4th rider – he had started to drop off the back. It was now a rotation of only 4 riders so there was very little rest at the back of the “pack.” A quick glance at my HR monitor told the story my body was already telling me – I was tired. The monitor was showing numbers back in the 170s again (my average HR for the 32 mile race ended up at 165 and my lactate threshold is supposed to be around 161.) and to make matters worse we were coming up a 5% upgrade again. I took my pull and as I dropped to the back I couldn’t maintain speed and was dropped from the chase pack. The chase pack was now only three guys. I looked back over my shoulder and saw the 5th guy, the one that had dropped off before me, so I slowed up and we started working together – we were now the official chase group of the chase group. We were working pretty good together but I needed to drop down to my small chain ring. I hit my left shifter to move the front derailleur and move my chain from the big chain ring to the small ring. At the same time I started up a steep hill and had too much pressure on the chain and I throw the chain right past the small ring. I yelled to my “partner” that I had thrown my chain. As I watched him speed away I brought the bike to a stop and remounted the chain. This was a bummer. I had to start up again with the two chase groups riding off into the distance and no one to work with to catch up. I finished the first lap and smiled at my 14-year old daughter as she took my picture. She thought I was just out enjoying myself without a care in the world. My heart rate monitor said otherwise as it was still registering a number in the high 160s. I started up the hill again only to see the first two chase groups a few hundred meters ahead of me. I gritted my teeth and accelerated until I bridged the distance between us. We were now officially the chase group again – which lasted about 20 seconds as we were again starting up the 8% plus grade. The group was once again shredded and I can’t tell you which one of us fell behind first. Forget the lead group, it was now time to just get over the top of the hill and finish the race. The temperature was in the low 80s and my sweat was just pouring off me as I slogged to the top of the hill. I was moving so slowly that I could watch my sweat drop vertically to the asphalt below me. Even though I had a sweat-band on under my helmet, the sweat was pouring into my eyes blinding me. My sunglasses had so much dried up sweat on the lenses that I could barely see in any case. With about 6 miles left in the race I rode up on a Masters rider and we gamely started to work together, just to get to the finish line faster. We wondered how many of the 40 riders were ahead or behind us. As we hit the last major incline he dropped off and I was again by myself. I passed a few riders from other divisions and with 200 m to go I got passed by my old partner – he was smelling the barn. I didn’t have the energy to sprint with him but I crossed the finish line in 1 hour and 40 minutes. I ended up #24 out of 29 finishers. 40 started the race but at least 11 dropped out for various reasons. (See complete results here)This was a tough race, the toughest I’ve had all year. I was pleased with my 19.2 mph average over the hilly 32 mile race. This was also my first race with my new Colnago frame. But the new Colnago, and how I built it up, is fodder for another post.
I knew my 190+ lbs of body weight didn’t bode well for racing this type of race. But on the other had, this race is right in my own backyard. The Punch Bowl is a cool outcropping of sedimentary rock on the North side of the San Gabriel Mountain Range. The mighty San Andreas Earth quake fault runs right by so the sedimentary rock layers have been tossed up at a very acute angle. Many T.V. viewers have seen the sister formation to the Punch Bowl in the pushed up rocks of the Vasquez Rock formation just outside of Agua Dulce, 25 miles or so to the West. I can still picture Captain Kirk fighting the Gorn with the rock formation in the background.
It was warm and very dry as I pedaled around the starting area waiting for the Masters 40+ race to get going. We started at 12:32, an unusual late starting time for a race, this also meant that it was late enough for the usual Antelope Valley winds to start blowing – oh well. About 40 of us lined up for the start of the race and we were off. The beginning of the race heads West on a slight upgrade of around 2% for about 2 miles or so then we take a left and begin heading up the road that branches off to the Devil’s Punch Bowl Park proper. The pack was a bit jumpy and a few ripples passed through the peloton. Someone said to take it easy as the upcoming climb would separate the pack anyway. After a couple of miles we passed the turnoff to the Punch Bowl on our left and continued heading South toward the town of Juniper Hills. The 2% grade began to change to an 8% plus grade and the climb was on. I was too focused to actually check it out but I could swear the first 6 miles of this race were all uphill. I knew we would climb 1500’ before the lap was done, I just didn’t think we would do it all at once.
I was bound and determined to stay with the pack regardless of the elevation gain but it wasn’t going to happen. We continued to climb until the road turns toward the West and a small descent presented itself. The descent was very short and we were soon climbing again. My heart rate monitor was showing 177! I’ve never been above 176 in my year of training – a new high. Riders were being shelled off the back and I was still in contact with the lead 20 plus riders but with my heart at redline I knew I couldn’t hold it. The road now started to turn to the North and the final rolling set of hills. I finally began to shift down the gears, my first time out of the 26-tooth sprocket of my cassette since the hills started in earnest 6 miles ago. I was definitely falling off the back of the pack now but with my heart rate still in the 170s I couldn’t possibly go any faster. My goal now was to maintain visual contact with the lead pack and rely on my downhill speed to catch up. The flip-side to being a heavy racer is that I go downhill very quickly. When I was a young sprinter on a team up in Santa Cruz I was known as a “descender” or someone that could maintain bicycle control when bombing down a steep descent at 60 plus mph. This strategy worked somewhat well. I wasn’t losing any more ground to the lead pack on the descent but I wasn’t gaining either. The famous desert wind had definitely sprung up and it was right in my face, slowing my descent to only 50 mph. The pack, with its superior aerodynamic characteristics was having an easier time with the wind. I slowed to make a sharp right turn to head East and breathed a sigh of relief that the road ahead was relatively flat. The only problem now was that the wind had a slight “Santa Ana” characteristic to it and was coming out of the North-East. So as usual, it seemed to be in my face again. Riders in the Antelope Valley swear that no matter what direction you ride the wind is always a head wind. (The wind here can change direction in a heart beat and I’ve actually had it change 180 degrees in a single ride to actually be in my face in both directions.)
I was now a single rider caught in no mans’ land. I was coming up on riders that started in other categories but you can’t work with these riders. The pack was now pulling away because they could work together in the wind. I did the only thing I could, I actually slowed down and waited for a “chase pack” to come up on me. I didn’t have to wait long, a pack of 4 masters 40 riders came up on me quickly using a fast rotation. I dropped right into them and we had a pack of 5 doing a tight rotation and not losing ground to the lead pack. This was great but the road started to go uphill again, not much but at the speed we were putting out, definitely noticeable. The other problem was that we were only a pack of 5 and the high-speed rotation was putting a lot of strain on us. As I took my turn at the front and then quickly rotated off to the right I couldn’t find the 4th rider – he had started to drop off the back. It was now a rotation of only 4 riders so there was very little rest at the back of the “pack.” A quick glance at my HR monitor told the story my body was already telling me – I was tired. The monitor was showing numbers back in the 170s again (my average HR for the 32 mile race ended up at 165 and my lactate threshold is supposed to be around 161.) and to make matters worse we were coming up a 5% upgrade again. I took my pull and as I dropped to the back I couldn’t maintain speed and was dropped from the chase pack. The chase pack was now only three guys. I looked back over my shoulder and saw the 5th guy, the one that had dropped off before me, so I slowed up and we started working together – we were now the official chase group of the chase group. We were working pretty good together but I needed to drop down to my small chain ring. I hit my left shifter to move the front derailleur and move my chain from the big chain ring to the small ring. At the same time I started up a steep hill and had too much pressure on the chain and I throw the chain right past the small ring. I yelled to my “partner” that I had thrown my chain. As I watched him speed away I brought the bike to a stop and remounted the chain. This was a bummer. I had to start up again with the two chase groups riding off into the distance and no one to work with to catch up. I finished the first lap and smiled at my 14-year old daughter as she took my picture. She thought I was just out enjoying myself without a care in the world. My heart rate monitor said otherwise as it was still registering a number in the high 160s. I started up the hill again only to see the first two chase groups a few hundred meters ahead of me. I gritted my teeth and accelerated until I bridged the distance between us. We were now officially the chase group again – which lasted about 20 seconds as we were again starting up the 8% plus grade. The group was once again shredded and I can’t tell you which one of us fell behind first. Forget the lead group, it was now time to just get over the top of the hill and finish the race. The temperature was in the low 80s and my sweat was just pouring off me as I slogged to the top of the hill. I was moving so slowly that I could watch my sweat drop vertically to the asphalt below me. Even though I had a sweat-band on under my helmet, the sweat was pouring into my eyes blinding me. My sunglasses had so much dried up sweat on the lenses that I could barely see in any case. With about 6 miles left in the race I rode up on a Masters rider and we gamely started to work together, just to get to the finish line faster. We wondered how many of the 40 riders were ahead or behind us. As we hit the last major incline he dropped off and I was again by myself. I passed a few riders from other divisions and with 200 m to go I got passed by my old partner – he was smelling the barn. I didn’t have the energy to sprint with him but I crossed the finish line in 1 hour and 40 minutes. I ended up #24 out of 29 finishers. 40 started the race but at least 11 dropped out for various reasons. (See complete results here)This was a tough race, the toughest I’ve had all year. I was pleased with my 19.2 mph average over the hilly 32 mile race. This was also my first race with my new Colnago frame. But the new Colnago, and how I built it up, is fodder for another post.
posted by Bob Grove at 2:20 PM
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