With only a few hundred miles of training since completing the Death Ride back in July, I held low expectations for my performance at the 2008 ACC. I even debated blowing it off expecting that my deteriorated condition would turn this into a full blown suffer-fest.  But in the end I figured anything that get’s me back onto the bike is a good thing.

The days leading up to the ride were hot, really hot. This boded well since last year it had been bitter cold, with snow on some of the north facing slopes at the higher elevations. But, as the weekend approached the forecast called for clouds and a 50% chance of showers. That night the temperature dropped and the wind picked up. This was going to be interesting.

On Saturday I got up at 4:00 am and was on the road by 5:00.  I pulled up to Memorial Park around 6:00 and took my leisurely time getting ready. It was 68 degrees and overcast. At that point you could easily have assumed it was going to be a relatively nice day. I wasn’t going to fall for it. I pulled on a base layer, arm/leg warmers, and a nice Scott windbreaker Jana had bought me. I also tucked a rain slicker and head band in one of my back pockets.  I debated taking full fingers and booties, but decide against it.

While I was getting organized I struck up a conversation with another rider who had parked in front of me. He had done the ride last year and was packing even more gear than I. We discussed how the day’s weather might turn out and we both agreed that preparing for rain would be the right plan. He was anxious to get going, but they weren’t going to let us start until at least 7:00 this year. The Highway Patrol and Forest Service had apparently become a bit more stringent. I thought it was a good idea. Why take the risks, especially on this course which was notorious for its miniscule shoulders and weekend warriors on their crotch rockets?

At a few minutes before the hour they started letting riders depart. Considering the late hour I noted that the number seemed far short of the 125 that had signed up.  Perhaps the dire weather forecast had convinced a good minority that staying indoors sipping something warm would prove a preferable way to spend a gloomy Saturday morning. 

I rolled up and was on the road at 6:58. Immediately I was in a group of about 15 riders waiting at the first light.  As a peloton we headed down Foothill and then up Angeles Crest. As was the case last year, the group quickly fragmented on the first 7% grade. I had promised myself to take it easy, but even so I was soon off the front of the group and heading up into the clouds.

The entire climb up to the first rest stop was pretty much in the fog. Visibility at times was down to 50 feet at most, but thankfully traffic was very light. I took it at a leisurely 8 to 9 mph. I actually started overheating and shed my windbreaker about half way up. As riders passed me, and there were quite a few, I noted that the group looked pretty sturdy with high end machinery, Pinarellos, Specialized Cervelos, and Treks. I think some of the wheel sets were worth more than my entire bike.  I struck up a few conversations and everybody as a whole seemed to be making the best of it.

At the first rest stop I pulled in for a refill of Gatorade and a bite to eat. No need to rush I thought and lingered for a good 10 minutes. Then it was off down Angeles Forest Highway. It had cleared up and I even saw patches of blue sky. The road along this stretch is pretty rough, so I took careful lines around all the curves. I played leap frog with one rider who was cruising at about my pace. We chatted for a couple of miles, mostly about this year’s Tour of California. He was originally from the South Bay and had been there for the start a couple of times.

We made the right turn onto Upper Big Tujunga Road and started the trek east. This is the lumpy part of the course with some intermittent down hills and a few short 9% climbs. My riding partner soon got the best of me and I let him go off the front. I started to suffer a bit at this point. I couldn’t get a rhythm going and I lacked power on any of the climbs. I kept drinking and took a Hammer Gel shot just to try and revive myself. I was passed by about 4 riders along the way, but as a whole I managed to keep them in my sights, purely for inspiration at this point.

At the 26 mile point I stopped at the 2^nd rest stop to grab some more eats and take a leak. Seven or so riders had congregated their including Keith Brodsky who I had heard and read about. No one seemed in a rush at this point and most talk focused one the weather. But up to this point it had been surprisingly pleasant. Upper Big Tujunga had been done pretty much in sunshine. Maybe things wouldn’t get too bad.

A left at the stop sign and it was back onto Angeles Crest for the 23 mile jaunt to Jarvi Memorial Vista.  The only way I was going to make it psychologically was to divide it into sequential destinations.  Two miles to the Park Service rest stop, 3 miles to Newcomb Ranch, 4 miles to the long, climbing straight away, 3 miles to the summit at Snow Crest, 2 miles to Mt Waterman, etc.  It actually worked and I was convinced I was going to complete the ride. Along the way I took a Clif Shot which was probably the wisest move of the day. I felt great physically for the rest of the ride.

Along the way I realized that last year I had started to see descending riders just after I’d passed the last ski resort. This time I saw my first rider just after Mt Waterman.  Not surprising considering my condition, but not disappointing either. Soon after that I encountered other groups descending. I was only 30 minutes or so from the turn around so I really got a surge of confidence. It had started getting cold again and the clouds had moved in. The first tunnel was completely fogged in and I could just barely see the exit. It was a bit disconcerting at first, considering there were oncoming riders. I slowed accordingly and soon emerged. The second tunnel was clear and I made the last sweeping right to the third rest stop.

There were about five riders there when I arrived. Everyone looked a bit fatigued and the deteriorating weather conditions guaranteed a dismal descent. I hung around for about 10 minutes eating, topping off my water bottles and putting my wind breaker back on as well as a headband. Remembering last year’s Spooktacular I felt it would be wise to get on the road quickly and alone.  Having even one other rider to contend with under these conditions would be a distraction that I did not want to deal with.

Heading back down the 2^nd tunnel was even worse than before. Once inside it was a complete blackout for several seconds. I slowed substantially trying to keep track of where I was. I could only imagine what I would be like taking this as a group, no thanks! I got my bearings and let off the brakes as the exit came slowly into view.

As I emerged it started to sprinkle and the road had rocks strewn across it on almost every turn. This is the biggest hazard with the ACC. The rocks have really sharp edges and twice in the past this route has led to me flatting.  I would rather control my speed a bit and avoid them then flat and lose 10 minutes trying to change a tube with frozen hands.

As I descended I began to encounter the remaining ascending riders. They were spread out and in far fewer numbers than last year confirming that many had either chosen to skip the ride or abandon. At about the snow shed the weather cleared a bit and remained so all the way to the 6,000 foot summit. It was then the long downhill to Newcomb, but by now the weather had closed back in. I was definitely getting wet and my hands were starting to feel a bit frosty.  This part of the ride seemed to take far longer than it should have, but when you’re soaked every mile drags on.

At Newcomb I head up the mild climb and then continued on, getting pelted the whole way. Somewhere along this portion of the ride my feet became completely saturated due to the amount of water being kicked up from my front wheel.  At this point I was counting the miles to the intersection with Big Tujunga. When it arrived I felt relieved in that it was under 10 miles to the top of Mt Wilson.

After Big Tujunga there’s a quick descent and then a series of about seven turns as you snake your way up the mountainside before you hit the parking lot at the base of Mt. Wilson.  The road was very wet and there were more minor slides that had spilled rocks onto the road, some as big as melons. I was conscientious of what might be coming up behind me at all times, wanting to avoid collisions both on the front and back. I encountered a few more riders here, all as soggy as I.

Arriving at the turn off to Mt Wilson, I debated taking another shot. My energy level had been outstanding, but I was feeling some hunger pangs. I decide to forgo it and took the moment to remove my glasses and slip them into my helmet.  I then proceeded up the last climb matching pace with another rider who had just passed me. The road was in sorry shape. Rocks were everywhere and there were also the downhillers to contend with. Once one shot across the center line as he tried to navigate a curve. We exchanged brief conversations as we watched the mile markers tick off. Once or twice we heard a slide up on our right and joked how ironic it would be to have made it this far only to be taken out by a rock.

Knowing that the climb levels off at mile 4 I watch the markers tick off 3.63, 3.75, 3.87 4.00 with huge anticipation. My companion had taken a bit of a lead by this time, but he got confused at the road split and I called to him as I veered right. We then took the road that rounded the towers and headed in through the pot holed parking lot. The finish was a sorry sight indeed. There were three other riders huddled under the tent along with Deborah bundled up in a parka. She took my arrival time at 13:30. Not bad I thought, expecting I’d have been lucky to stay under 7 hours. I then grabbed a sandwich and devoured it.

At this point I really just wanted to get down the mountain in one piece. I put on my rain slicker and followed another rider out of the lot and onto the road. I kept my speed very conservative, maintaining some pressure on the brakes so the hubs would be relatively dry if I had to really stop. I must have not been that cautious since I caught and passed the other rider. At the bottom I stopped to take a leak. One rider had found another rider with a truck who he’d convinced to take him down the mountain. It was tempting (and probably the wiser thing to do) but I wanted to finish the ride on my own, in spite of the terrible conditions.

The next 14 miles were miserable. I was really cold and the visibility was extremely poor. In addition there was some traffic which made me slightly paranoid. But each driver that overtook me was very courteous and gave me a wide berth. No horn hooking, but I bet there were a few commentaries on my sanity.  Fortunately I avoided any flats (did see one rider who was not as fortunate) and when I rounded the right turn into La Canada I realized I’d done it! I followed another rider into town, made the right onto Foothill and then another right onto La Canada Blvd. My car never looked so good. I pulled my wet kit off as fast as I could, packed up the bike and headed out with the heater on. It was fantastic to be dry and sitting comfortably!

I was amazed at my performance over the latter part of the ride. My legs had felt great and I was completely comfortable on the bike. I guess I was so focused on the weather it just didn’t register. I also figured I’d lost a good 10 minutes on the descent due to the weather compared to last year. So a time of 6:32 was more like 6:22 which was mainly driven by my substandard performance on the way up and leisurely rest stops.

In retrospect, it was an epic ride, primarily due to the conditions.  Only 58 of the 125 registrants actually finished. That says a lot.

Total Distance:  97.4 miles

Total on bike time: 7:06

Average speed: 13.7 mph

Maximum speed: 40.8 mph

Total altitude gained: 10052 feet

Average grade: 4%

Maximum grade: 10%