Sunday, October 20, 2013

Skyline Double

I'd been wanting to do an out-and-back double century on Skyline Drive for about a year. It's such an obvious "go big or go home" objective that it was just begging to get done. This year, I finally had the opportunity (and the legs) to pull it off.

Prep began on Friday morning, with a lengthy bike-cleaning session, and an amassing of gear. My strategy was to travel pretty light, but well prepared. I grabbed any clothes I thought I might need, packed up around 4,000 calories worth of food and drink mix, and made a couple of modifications to the cockpit on my bike. A wider, more comfy Specialized Body Geometry saddle (borrowed from my mountain bike), and a set of aero bars to boost my speed on the flats and to give myself an alternate position on the bike.

Pulling an all-nighter, I wound up getting to the start a few minutes later than I'd wanted to, but was ready and rolling out at 5:15AM. The temperature in Front Royal was around 50 degrees; a bit chilly but not too bad. I knew I would warm up quickly as I climbed up onto the massive ridgeline.

The rig, ready to roll in the dark.
The first 21 miles climb almost 4,000'. This took a long time to get done, trudging upwards at about 7-8mph. Luckily, none of the grades on Skyline Drive are that steep, just long. The sun started to come up as I got past the summit of the final group of preliminary climbs,  and I raced downhill past Elk Wallow Wayside towards Thornton Gap, where Route 211 crosses over the mountains.
I taped a copy of this to my handlebars and endlessly analyzed it to determine what I had coming up on deck.
The sun starting to rise as I made my way up the hill.
One of the countless number of scenic overlooks that Skyline Drive was designed around.
The moon was full, although the overcast skies did not let it lend it's brilliance to the road. Even so, it was bright enough that I was able to turn of my little LED headlight and slowly grind up the hill in the moonlight, which was pretty cool.


Unfortunately, the overcast skies would continue all day. Although it only sprinkled rain a few times, the clouds kept the sun off and the temps down, meaning that every time I stopped I got chilled quickly. It also meant that the foliage, which was just past its peak, never got lit up enough to really capture its full intensity in a photo.

My first stop was at the Skyland resort at mile 41, where I stopped to use the restroom and to refill my water bottles. In those 40 miles, I'd done some arithmetic in my head and determined that if I wanted to get done in 16 hours (which would only have me riding in the dark for a couple hours at the end of the day), I'd have to keep a 13mph average pace. 13mph is usually much slower than I average, but your overall speed really takes a hit when you are climbing at 7mph for 20 minutes at a time. Luckily, the 30-40mph downhills really helped boost my average and I had it up to around the upper 12's in short order, and fought to maintain that for as long as possible.

After Skyland I stopped at the Big meadow campstore at Mile 51 before bridging the 30 mile gap to Loft Mountain at mile 80. I was still feeling pretty good at Big Meadow - although I was fighting sleep deprivation a little bit due to the all-nighter, I was moving well and putting out a fairly steady power of around 200 watts on the climbs and flats. The aero bars really helped me on the flats; without a buddy to draft behind, the bars made the difference between pushing 26-28mph on the flats and what would have probably been 23-25mph without them.

By the time I reached Loft Mountain, I was starting to drag a bit. The massive dose of caffeine that I'd ingested during the early stages of the ride had worn off, leaving a jittery and shaking intensity for every moment that I was off the bike. I am pretty sure I got some funny looks from tourists as I reeled around the camp store ogling the Clif bars and mumbling to myself about how good it was to fill up my water bottles with a fresh batch of drink mix.

Overcast skies made it tough to capture how pretty the foliage really was.
After I left Loft Mountain, the sun almost came out for a bit, and I enjoyed feeling it on my back. I wasn't cold, but was right on the edge of being chilly most of the time. That's a great place to be when you're working hard and your body is putting out a lot of heat, but when you're many hours into an endurance event, self-heating takes a back seat to forward movement.

Random pretty spot near the south end of Skyline Drive
I thought a lot about turning around early, but I'd already done the math and decided that I needed to turn around by 1PM in order to keep my goal of a 16 hour finish. Lo and behold, I reached the south entrance to Skyline drive around 1PM. Funny how that works. I mumbled something incoherent to the ranger at the gate about riding back to Front Royal; he looked at me and said "Have fun with that!".

The 25 miles back to Loft Mountain were pretty draining. This was the longest stretch of the ride without seeing any services, so I stopped a few times just to break up the monotony of endlessly going up and down hills. By this point I had lost interest in keeping my stops to the shortest time possible, and instead focused on mentally rejuvenating myself as much as possible each time I paused. My legs, back, and butt were all feeling pretty good, but mentally I was dragging. When your mind says "You don't have enough juice to put out 200W up this hill", guess what: you don't. However, even taking a 5-6 minute break was enough to put me back in a better headspace.

Finally I reached Loft Mountain, a fully 50 miles after I'd left. The sleep monsters were starting to leave me alone now after a caffeinated energy gel, and I was kinda sorta smelling the barn as I knew that I was on my way home. The next stop, Big Meadow, was a doable 30 mile ride ahead, and from there on out there would be services fairly often until I got back to Front Royal.

Foliage on the way back home
At Big Meadow, I took a legit break, buying a cold chicken sandwich and a cup of lukewarm coffee left over from the morning. It was warm and caffeinated though, and that's all that I cared about. Darkness was coming, and I wanted to meet it head-on with any trick I had to keep it from sapping my will to live.

I plugged my light back in, activated my taillight blinker, and started off on the last 50 miles of the trip. Despite the long-under-any-other-circumstance distance of 50 miles, I knew I was three quarters of the way done, and that was good enough to keep me motivated.

It didn't get truly dark for quite a while after I expected it to - even though civil sunset was at 6:30, I didn't have to turn my light on for probably an hour after that. The clouds finally cleared out and I was treated to some nice sunset vistas.

Sunset from the Old Rag overlook
 Once it was fully dark and I had my light on, the world took on this weird timeless sensation - I couldn't see my bike computer anymore, so I didn't know what time it was, how fast I was going, or what my power output was. It was like flying completely by feel - the only piece of feedback I had was my little elevation profile chart, which I could use to keep track of where I was (OK, climb this big hill, then a little downhill, three little peaks, followed by a big downhill). It rained on me a bit, I saw a skunk on the side of the road, and the exodus of cars from the park gradually slowed from a rush to a trickle and then finally to complete stillness.

At long last, I got to the top of the last climb before the 20 miles of mostly downhill back to the car. While I was climbing, I was pretty comfortable, but those long descents chilled me to the bone and it took a few minutes to get moving after each one. It didn't help that it must've rained in Front Royal at some point, because the road was soaking wet, making me slow down to take the corners more safely.

After counting every last mile marker post, I finally reached my car, cranked up the heat, and collapsed into the driver's seat for a lengthy nap before heading home.

Fun? Mostly. Questionable? Yes. Would I do it again? No. Was it a good idea? Seemed like it at the time. Did I think it was a good idea while I was doing it? I thought of several other things I rather would have been doing - curled up in bed sounded pretty damn good. I think if I were to try it again (or offer advice to anyone who would think about doing it), I would most certainly do it during the summer when there is a much longer day and the air temperature is a little warmer.