That clay/gravel mix was quite something, being 10% was the icing on the cake.
Its due to be tarmac'd at the end of the month I think.
I cant believe this. But I'm gutted.
I've fought through some pretty intense suffering in my time. But the last time I rode dalsnibbe fixed is top of the list.
It was mild but wet at the bottom. Probably 15C, which up here counts for summer. I headed up wearing bibs, knee warmers, and a fitted cycing soft shell with nothing under. I was physically in good shape from an intense rugby season. But I hadnt been riding much. Still I have to admitt the legs felt good, and after getting the steep first section out of the way. I was slowly passing peolpe, and making good time.
When I climbed over the plateau I was hit by the the sudden intense cold of frozen fog. It was -2C, visibility was barely a few meters, and the fog seemed to penetrate every piece of clothing. Just holding the bars in my fingerless mitts took massive determination. I really wanted to get out of the saddle. My legs simply couldnt push the gear I had on this 10% section, while seated. But each time I did my rear tyre span, killing what little momentum I had.
I knew it was only a matter time before my dodgy right leg cramped up. But I also knew I did'nt want to be on this mountain anymore, and I wasnt about to turn around. There must have been a hundred or so other riders, and runners. But in the fog it felt for all the world like I was alone on there. So I pushed through. Cramping up, getting off, or falling off the bike, walking 10 or 20 meters, and climbing back on. I was totally broken when I eventually got over the line.
Thats a somewhat dramatic year. But that gravel path has beaten me 5 times. Now itts gone, and I'll never stamp my revenge on it.
Its due to be tarmac'd at the end of the month I think.
I cant believe this. But I'm gutted.
I've fought through some pretty intense suffering in my time. But the last time I rode dalsnibbe fixed is top of the list.
It was mild but wet at the bottom. Probably 15C, which up here counts for summer. I headed up wearing bibs, knee warmers, and a fitted cycing soft shell with nothing under. I was physically in good shape from an intense rugby season. But I hadnt been riding much. Still I have to admitt the legs felt good, and after getting the steep first section out of the way. I was slowly passing peolpe, and making good time.
When I climbed over the plateau I was hit by the the sudden intense cold of frozen fog. It was -2C, visibility was barely a few meters, and the fog seemed to penetrate every piece of clothing. Just holding the bars in my fingerless mitts took massive determination. I really wanted to get out of the saddle. My legs simply couldnt push the gear I had on this 10% section, while seated. But each time I did my rear tyre span, killing what little momentum I had.
I knew it was only a matter time before my dodgy right leg cramped up. But I also knew I did'nt want to be on this mountain anymore, and I wasnt about to turn around. There must have been a hundred or so other riders, and runners. But in the fog it felt for all the world like I was alone on there. So I pushed through. Cramping up, getting off, or falling off the bike, walking 10 or 20 meters, and climbing back on. I was totally broken when I eventually got over the line.
Thats a somewhat dramatic year. But that gravel path has beaten me 5 times. Now itts gone, and I'll never stamp my revenge on it.