Author: Dwaine Trummert
Posted: 08 Jun 2021 02:29 PM PDT
The Swakane Canyon Road gravel climb defines the Leavenworth Gran Fondo route. The climb is long, technical, sometimes steep and usually hot. There is no Leavenworth Gran Fondo tale where Swakane Canyon is not part of the plot, and this race recap is no exception.
As race day approached, Adam and I were comfortable and confident that we knew what we were getting into. We raced the Leavenworth Gran Fondo a couple years ago and knew what the course offered. We had seen the 80 miles and 7300 feet of climbing. We knew the 50/50 balance between pavement and gravel. We knew that the course featured two solid gravel climbs and descents with a ten mile pavement separator. We knew Swakane Canyon would be waiting to thrash us.
A few days before the race I developed some worry. My gravel tires were losing air at an unacceptable rate. Earlier this year I consulted our sponsor Joey at Cascadia Wheel Company to help me put together a wheelset optimized for gravel racing. This new wheelset and new Maxxix Rambler tires were used to good effect at the Cascade Gravel Grinder. After the event, I noticed excess air loss through the sidewalls. My efforts to seal the sidewalls were repeatedly thwarted. Not until the day before we were scheduled to leave was this air loss attenuated. I had low confidence that`` the problem would stay solved.
On the drive towards Leavenworth, Adam and I discussed strategy. The elevation profile makes one aspect of strategy simple. We had two long dirt climbs between us and the finish. We knew these climbs required our best pace regardless of any surges by other riders. Not unlike the Bend event, I asked Adam to be our pacemaker; and he agreed.
The paved sections also provided some tactical opportunities. The most obvious was the flat ten mile section heading South from Entiat on highway 97A. This section lies just after the midpoint of the course and is set up perfectly for pacelining. Finding other riders to work with on this section pays huge dividends, and we planned our midrace tactics to leverage any opportunities to find friends and share the workload.
Less obvious and more interesting was the final twelve miles of pavement into the finish. A recent discussion among our Fell Swoop friends led to a tactical conversation of our own. Adam and I race as a team with the goal of getting one of us as near first as possible. Drafting would play a large role in those last twelve miles. We wondered how we would choose who to work with. We theorized where on the course we might re-prioritize to maximize our team's finish position. Making these tactical questions even more complicated was the fact we might be finishing among riders who started in different waves. The scenarios we imagined kept this discussion alive for many of the miles between home and our lodging at the Wenatchee Super 8. We guessed we might be making some decisions from the saddle and in the moment. We were right.
Adam's Norco Search in the spotlight at the Super 8. Adam chose Vittoria Torreno Dry tires and they gave him no heartache. |
In addition to tire preparation I was also concerned with hydration. It is no secret that every second on the course counts. It is no secret that I usually stop to water a tree a little more often than is ideal. For Leavenworth, I altered one aspect of my breakfast menu and then planned to measure the number of minutes till my first de-water stop.
Adam's only change for Leavenworth was the bike. In place of his Hakka MX gravel bike he brought his Norco Search XR gravel bike. This bike is well tested and thoroughly capable. I've never seen the Norco, or any other bike, hold him back. His choice was a simple matter of gearing. The ratios on the Norco Search were a better match for Swakane Canyon.
Sunday morning pre-race rituals were completed without issue save one. The Super 8 coffee did not live up to it's name. In the plus column I counted the additional twelve hours that my tires retained their pressure. This allowed me a skosh more confidence in my Maxxis Ramblers holding their air to the finish.
In a non-Covid year Jake from Vicious Cycle would provide a neutral roll out for the first six miles. This gets the group, usually about 200 riders, safely through a couple traffic interchanges. This year, with many start waves, there was no neutral roll out. At 8 a.m. we started with our wave and let the other 24 other riders choose a pace. Adam and I did almost no work at the front.
At mile six, we turned onto Eagle Creek road. At mile eight, a single rider shot up the road and the peloton quickened a bit. At mile eleven, a group of four surged to create a chase group and we went with them. At mile twelve, we turned left off the pavement and onto forest road NF-7520. This is where the climbing begins in earnest and the pace remained high.
My concern for tire sidewall air loss transformed to concern for my personal air loss. My respiration rate was high. Much higher than expected. I was making the power and also making some noise. Making enough noise that Adam had taken notice. He confirmed that we were climbing at a hot pace to hold the group of four.
Adam has earned my trust on pacemaking and Sunday was no different. I shared how close I was to blowing up. He weighed tactical needs and climb duration against power meter readings and rider feedback. But Adam's job changed. His power meter blinked off early in the ride. His task became more difficult, and he never missed a beat. I remained oblivious to the power meter failure until our post race debrief.
Half way up the first climb, Adam chose to moderate our pace. The group of four slowly moved up the road. We were holding sixth and seventh position in our start wave. This was the final time we knew our position against our start wave competitors. My respiration rate remained high. I was at my limit but still maintained the pace. Strava confirmed that we both set new personal best times for the climb.
At the summit, we coalesced with an unknown rider in an Audi Cycling Team kit. We did not exchange words, but he rode with purpose and confidence; and we let him lead us for one mile before slipping past.
We descended without hesitation picking off riders as we went. We ignored the first water only aid station. Not long after we reached the pavement, we were joined by two additional riders. We were happy to share the work down Entiat River road and towards the aid station in Entiat.
After a few seasons of practice, we have learned to minimize wasted time off the bike. I made my first Johnny-on-the-spot stop of the day. We filled our bottles but needed no additional nutrition. No one matched our time, and we soft pedaled away passing a number of riders in the process.
Once onto Highway 97A, we repeatedly looked over our shoulders for additional help but none came. We traded turns into the headwind catching one rider. This rider kindly took turns on the front but appeared to be about done. When we turned right to start the Swakane Canyon climb;` he slowed, smiled, and waved goodbye as we rode away.
The Swakane Canyon climb started at an easy pace. We took guesses on how many riders from our start group we might have passed. We discussed our strategy going forward. Then Adam got back to pacemaking.
I felt more fatigue in my legs than I expected. Fortunately the cloud cover moderated the temperatures. It was still hotter in Swakane Canyon than any other part of the course. The mild tail wind minimized evaporative cooling. I was nearing the low point of my day.
My respiration rate was at redline. My legs were aching. I knew it was time to counsel Adam. With as much persuasion and tact as I could muster, I reminded him that the team's goal was to maximize one rider's finish position. I shared that he looked to be that rider. We agreed that if I fell off the pace he would not slow for me.
At about one third of the way into the climb, we chose to walk a steep and rocky section. This cost a few seconds but also let our walking muscles take over for our pedaling muscles. This was also a perfect time to make water. I was absolutely wrecked. My back hurt. My legs ached. I could not nicely aim my body one way while preventing my Hakka MX from rolling the other. Instead I oriented my front side down the hill. When the stream started so did the sobbing. My body was releasing both fluid and stress. The sobbing ended before the watering. I looked up to see that same Audi kitted rider come around the corner. I lacked the energy to blush.
In total four riders from later waves passed me on Swakane Canyon. I also let Adam slip away. Just three riders passed Adam. He was able to hang with the Audi kitted rider. They spoke just enough for Adam to learn that he had attended an event we knew well. The 2019 Cyclocross Nationals at Fort Steilacoom Park.
When it was clear I would not climb back to Adam, I took stock of my situation. My pace had stabilized. I was nearing the final aid station. I was good on food. I needed just one bottle of water. It seemed possible to claw back some time on the descent.
My aid station stop was just ten seconds. A volunteer filled my bottle and snapped it into my bottle holder while I consumed a packet of Gu energy gel.
The final two miles of the Swakane Canyon climb did not treat me well. The grades changed abruptly and included some of the steepest pitches. One of those pitches pushed my right hamstring into a cramp which I nursed for the remainder of the climb.
The condition of the gravel descending towards the pavement had deteriorated since my last visit. I worked my way down in as safe and speedy a fashion as I could.
Adam was doing the same just a minute or two ahead of me. Unfortunately, his tool bag released its velcro attachments costing him precious seconds as he stopped to retrieve it.
As I reached the pavement, my wish was granted. I caught two riders. One was in yellow. The second rider wore red. Audi red. I had caught the 'Nationals' Audi rider who most assuredly remembered me from my exposure on Swakane Canyon road. I pulled alongside and asked about a third rider who was up the road far enough to be nearly undiscernible. 'Nationals' answered that the third rider wore my kit. We had Adam in sight.
The scenarios Adam and I had discussed on the previous day's drive flooded back into my head. Adam was in position to be our team's best finisher. It was on me to solidify his finish position. Bringing two helpers and myself up to him could lighten his work load to the finish and lower his overall time. But bringing a strong sprinter up could cost him a position.
It was my turn to make some tactical decisions from the saddle. I made conversation. Short conversation. I polled both riders to find one started at 7:45 a.m. and the other started at 8:05 a.m. One was almost five minutes ahead of Adam on elapsed time and one was fifteen minutes behind. Adam's finish position against this group was immutable. It was in all four riders' best interests to work together.
I jumped to the front, pulled back half the distance to show my intentions, and let the other two riders finish the catch. Now, as group of four, we each knew what needed to be done. We alternated work at the front with 'Nationals' taking the longest pulls.
My legs were nearly toast, but my weight down Eagle Creek worked to my advantage. Four miles from the finish, we had a short climb; and both of my legs cramped simultaneously. I fell out of the group while Adam stayed in the trio to the line. He finished 23rd overall out of 244 and first in our start wave with an elapsed time of 5h:14m:40s.
I nursed my legs from the saddle and quickly discovered I could still push with my right and pull with my left. I found a kind soul from an earlier wave who let me sit on his wheel. Near the finish I pulled up long enough to say 'thanks' for the pull and assure him I could not and would not sprint. I coasted over the line 40 seconds after Adam to be 24th overall and second in our start wave.
I never spoke to the Audi kitted rider who attended Nationals. But Adam did. Only later did I learn his name: Randy Manion. Randy finished in 17th overall almost exactly five minutes ahead of Adam. He gained those five minutes between the start line and the summit of the first climb. Randy earned a 'well done' from us. I also owe him an apology about that awkward scene I created on Swakane Canyon Road.
My hydration experiment was a success. Two stops over five hours was acceptable.
Adam had his best race day of the year. He was solid. He claimed he was at his limit but never appeared to be struggling. Adding one more Velcro strap to his tool bag and five more riders to our Highway 97A paceline would have shaved many minutes off his finish time.
Our race results were a mixed bag. We were strong in our start group but well beaten by riders from other waves. Strava shows Adam finishing about one minute slower than my time in 2019. We both set new personal bests for both climbs indicating we put down the power where it mattered most. Strava also showed that the ten mile section along Highway 97A was my slowest ever with an average less than 19 m.p.h. compared to the 22 m.p.h. of year's past.
Our performance as a team was near perfect. Adam has learned exactly when and where to give me encouragement. I have learned how to give feedback he can act on. Adam's ability to read a race prevents us from making strategic or tactical errors. My upgraded training protocol has nearly closed the gap in our pedaling abilities.
Gran Fondo Leavenworth was the final gravel race on our books for 2021, and it turned into a spectacular way to put a lid on our season. We continued to apply what we've learned over the last few seasons. We continued to find more marginal gains. We continued our path towards figuring out how to get one of us as high on the finish board as possible. And we loved every minute. Except a few of those minutes on Swakane.
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