When Gods Play

The newly graded approach to the infamous Powerline climb. Don’t let the picture fool you. It’s deceiving.

When I was a kid, during a thunderstorm my Grandpa used to say, “The Gods must be bowling.” A very loud clap of thunder signified a strike, of course. And a streak of lightning across the sky meant the wives were calling them home from their silly games. I always wondered why the wives weren’t playing, but thought it was very cool they got to play with lightning. I think of this every time there is a storm.

I rode in Leadville on Saturday. I started at the dam in Twin Lakes and rode the last half of the course. I was not supposed to ride hard and was instructed to keep my heart rate in zone 2. This is what the plan said. I might remind you that Pbville is situated at 10,200 feet above sea level. My heart rate is in zone 3 while sleeping at that elevation. So to try to keep my heart rate in anything remotely close to zone 2 is laughable at best. Oh and don’t push too hard on this ride. Right. Ok.

I was able to take it easy from the dam to Pipeline, which in terms of climbing, is nothing like the monster so lovingly known as Powerline which lies ahead of you once you blow through the Pipeline time check. Heart rate was in zone 4 most of the way. To be honest I don’t have a zone 1 or 2, so even talking about this is really a waste of time. My ticker just runs on high-octane. Sort of makes me wonder if it’s gonna wear out quicker too? No time for those kinds of thoughts.

I made it to the base of Powerline, the rain started falling harder, it had been misting most of the morning, the thunder started and the lightning was getting pretty magnificent. I thought of Grampy and silently asked him to please not let me get dead––while biking higher in elevation, next to huge steel towers, soaking wet with my feet clipped into steel pedals––by lightning, wielding women summoning their men. I pressed on between claps of thunder and the distance snaps of lightning. The climb grew steeper and the ruts got deeper. I put my foot down. I snapped a quick picture of the looming summit with the towers and clouds in the background. I started pedaling until it felt like I was about to go over backwards because of the steepness. At this point I just jumped off and humped it on foot to the top. Wondering the whole time how in the name of God I am going to pedal up this thing after climbing Columbine. This race is uphill in both directions. Once you get to the top of this nastiness there is more climbing awaiting you so don’t even think you get to relax. You climb and climb and climb and climb and then you climb some more until you get to the descent down to Hagerman pass road. Then you get to go downhill just long enough for your legs to start screaming from standing up on the pedals. At this point you are at the bottom of the Turquoise Lake Road (May Queen Campground) and guess what? You get to drag your body up out of this low point to the turnoff to dirt. This stretch is going to be particularly heinous. Your mind is going to really start sabotaging you. You just have to gut it out because the finish is getting closer. All that’s left is the turn onto dirt, the climb to the green gate, and then the climb up to the top of St. Kevin’s. Relax and catch your breath while blasting down St. Kevin’s because the climbing is not yet over. You are under 10 miles to the finish. A little flat section next to the railroad tracks and then you make the turn toward town only to be hit square in the face by the boulevard. This is sadistic, steep, and almost heartbreaking after where you’ve been up to this point. Don’t let the mind get you. Grind through the boulevard, turn onto pavement, climb up 6th Street into the screaming, adoring fans, onto the red carpet. The Gods have smiled down on you while you played a game very few understand. Enjoy the moment because the pain that is about to overtake your entire being is lingering like a bolt of lightning.

Overall, I was very pleased with how I felt on Saturday. I could have done the race if someone had said it was race day. A good sign. I’m prepared. Now I just have to maintain and count the days. It won’t be long now. A few more marathon training days in the saddle and then it’s show time.

Get outside. Play. Get dirty and stinky. Eat some dirt. Have some ice cream. Do a chin-up.