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For those of you who don't know, the Assault on Mt. Mitchell began 23 years ago when a group of friends from Spartanburg, SC decided to try riding from Spartanburg to the top of Mt. Mitchell--highest point east of the Rocky Mountains. From that casual beginning, the Annual Assault on Mt. Mitchell has become one of the best known centuries in the country with an increasing number of rules and regulations each year to try to make the process of entering the Assault equitable. Part of the ride is along the Blue Ridge Parkway where the number of riders is limited by National Park Service rules. So, the Assault on Mt. Mitchell has been limited to 900 riders for a number of years. Several years ago, in an effort to open the ride to more people, the Assault organizers (the Spartanburg Freewheelers Bicycle Club) started the Annual Assault on Marion. For the first 73 miles, the two rides follow the same route. The Marion ride stops at the rest stop in Marion while the Mitchell riders continue on for another 29 miles. There is no limit to the number of riders who can participate in the Assault on Marion. More information about the Assaults can be found at http://members.aol.com/TheAssault/.
Eight years ago, Tarwheel member Harry Wilson rode in the Assault on Mt. MItchell. His tales of the cold, rainy ride that year inspired several of us to enter the ride in 1992. Every year since then, the Tarwheels have been represented by a group of riders.
So, as usual, a group of Tarwheels participated in the annual Assaults on Mt. Mitchell and Marion this year. The folks I know about are Don Belk, Laurey Comeau, Mike O'Connor, Alan Nechamais, Wendy Roberts, Jerry Allen, Steve Kenkel, Debbie Travers, Sarah Broome, Bill Heemstra, Tom Hughes, Markus Scherer, Bruce Lee, and me. Seven of us-- Debbie, Steve, Sarah, Bill, Tom, Markus, and I--piled into a 15-passenger van to make the trip to the ride's starting point. This is mostly the story of my ride since most of us didn't ride together.
All except Bill met at Debbie's and Steve's house on Friday to load the bikes and luggage and set off on our annual adventure. As I took my bike off the roof rack to load into the van, I noticed I had a flat tire on the rear! It's been such a busy few weeks for me, I was not very prepared; I had no spare tube. So, we loaded the flat tire/wheel where we could get to it easily to have it fixed when we got to Spartanburg. We took out the rearmost two seats this year and had plenty of room for the bikes and luggage without our usual poking and stuffing. Even Markus' recumbent caused no problems as it fit easily along one side of the van.
With me driving, we made a quick stop in Greensboro to pick up Bill and his bike at his apartment. And, except for a quick rest area stop and despite my whimperings about all the opportunities we were passing up for stopping at MacDonald's, that was the only stop we made until we got to Spartanburg.
This year, the 7 of us were staying in three different hotels. So, instead of checking into the hotels immediately, we first went to the Quality Hotel where rider registration packets were available. It also happened to be the hotel where Don and Sharon Belk were staying. I'd told Don we would call him when we got in so we could try to get together for dinner. Lo and behold! As I was parking the van, Don and Sharon came up to us. They had already checked in, and were ready to head out to Capri's Italian Restaurant to get a table for the 9 of us.
I picked up my packet and then took my tire over to one of the vendors. Unfortunately, they were completely out of tubes and weren't expecting anymore for another 30 minutes. I decided to leave the tire with them while we ate, even though it meant dragging most of us back to pick up the tire after dinner. (The others were *very* understanding!)
We found our way to Capri's after our usual experience of getting lost in Spartanburg. No matter where we're going or how often we've been there or what kind of directions we have, the group I'm with always has at least one incident of getting lost! We got to Capri's just as Don and Sharon had been seated, so the timing was excellent. Although I had been diligently avoiding positioning the van so I had to back it up, I pulled into a parking place at the restaurant with a satisfied smile. After dinner, Steve would take over the driving! After a lot of bread and pasta, we dropped Tom and Markus off at their hotel, and then went back to the registration site to pick up my wheel. It was ready!
Steve and Debbie dropped Sarah, Bill, and me off at our hotel which was within an easy bike ride of the start of the Assaults. I was wandering about my hotel room getting as much ready for Saturday morning as possible (the starting time is 6:30--in the *morning*), when I started pulling things frantically out of my small duffle bag. There were my tights. And my jersey. Socks. Biking shoes. Where were my biking shorts?? Oh, no! I had no shorts! In a panic, I called Bill and Sarah, but neither of them had an extra pair. Same for Tom and Markus. I called Steve and Debbie just as they were checking in, and they promised to check and call me back once they got in their room. I called Don and asked him to dash down to the vendor area in case any of them were still selling. "Buy me *any* pair!" I begged. He called back a few minutes later to report that the vendors had all closed up shop before he got there. OK, so now what? The temperatures were supposed to be in the 90s. It was certain that I couldn't wear tights all day. So, I decided that, if necessary, I'd wear the tights as long as I could, and then I would sacrifice them with my Swiss army knife. They would be unpadded shorts, but at least they would be short.
A few minutes after I'd settled on my emergency plan, Steve called. None of us quite know why, but he *did* have an extra pair! I could avoid heat stroke after all! I can't remember the last time I was so grateful for such a simple act of fate. And thanks again, Steve!
The next morning, I had fat-free banana oatmeal raisin cookies for breakfast, packed everything so I could carry it on my bike, and met Sarah and Bill in the hotel lobby to ride to the starting point. Debbie greeted us on the curb where she and Steve had parked the van which made it very easy to find them in the mob. I changed from tights to shorts in the back of the van, and we all did the last little things we needed to do before the start of the ride. Sarah and I ended up positioned at the back of the ride where we saw Alan, Wendy, and Mike. (Mike had parked a car in Marion on Friday and then biked from Marion to Spartanburg--70+ miles!)
The countdown started... 20...19...18...down to 1. "GO!" shouted the large lightboard. "GO!" it continued to shout. "GO!" Hundreds of riders stood still waiting for the folks ahead of us to move out. Finally, we started to move slowly down the street. You could hear hundreds of clicks as people locked into their pedals--a sound I always love.
People began to spread out fairly quickly, and Sarah and I began to pass other riders as we settled into a comfortable pace. The first part of the ride is relatively flat, so by the time we reached the first rest stop we were averaging 15.3; my goal for the first rest stop was 15.2, so I was pleased. We stopped long enough to refill water bottles and eat a little bit, and then we were back on the bikes heading for the second rest stop. At one time, our average speed had climbed to 16.0, but by the time we reached the rest stop--and had climbed a few hills--it had dropped. It was somewhere between the first and second rest stops, I think, when Sarah and I were called "speed daemons!" Yes, we were passing quite a few riders along the way, and as we passed one small group, one of them exclaimed, "There go some more speed daemons!" I laughed aloud. "Speed daemon" isn't something I've been accused of before!
Before the third rest stop, I stopped at a convenience store to get a Diet Coke while Sarah went ahead to the rest stop. Enough of the water! I needed Diet Coke! I drank a few sips, stuck the rest in my insulated rack pack, and hopped back on the bike to catch Sarah at the rest stop. After a quick water bottle refill, we continued on to Bill's Mountain. The first year I rode in the Assault, Bill's Mountain was not on the route. Apparently, some riders complained that there wasn't more climbing before Marion, so the organizers changed the route and added Bill's Mountain. Bill's Mountain is a relatively short, steep climb along a residential neighborhood. For the past couple of years, a young girl has stood by the side of the road, offering paper with her address on it to anyone who wanted to be her penpal. This year, she was standing on the *left* side of the road, away from all the riders. I'm not sure how many takers she got as riders would have had to stop to pick up her address.
We skipped the rest stop at the top of Bill's Mountain and proceeded on to the Marion stop where we arrived at about 12:30, catching sight of Sharon Belk as we rode past the parking area. Sarah went to lock her bike so she could shower, eat, and catch the shuttle to the top of Mitchell. After a quick bathroom break, I found a grassy spot in the parking area and sat down to a feast of pepper cheese and bread, Diet Coke, and banana oatmeal raisin cookies. This might sound a little strange to you, but my *usual* Marion meal is a Big Mac brought in by our sag. It's usually accompanied by some lukewarm fries and a Diet Coke with melted ice. Few meals have tasted as good as those Big Macs at Marion before heading up Highway 80. However, this year our sag rode to Marion and was on the bus back to Spartanburg to pick up our van. So, I'd carried food with me for my Marion feast. I spent about 20 minutes in Marion; as I was pulling out, I saw Markus by the side of the road with his camera waiting to catch folks entering Marion. (There's a folk song relevant to this story! Anybody know what it is?)
The next part of the ride, about 30 miles, generally takes as long as the first 73 miles.
The first part of Highway 80 isn't too bad. There are some climbs, and some flat spots, and maybe--just maybe--a few short, gradual downhills. In fact, the hard part of 80 just sneaks up on me. At some point, I just realize that I'm in my granny gear and there's no chance of getting out of it for a while. At that point, this year as in the past, I just settle in and pedal. Normally, I don't suffer much physically from biking, but the steady climbing of Mitchell often makes my lower back tired, so I stop occasionally just to stand and stretch. The heat and humidity this year also made these good water breaks. I can't drink while climbing from this point on, so stopping to drink is a necessary break for me. For some reason I kept noticing the wildflowers along 80 this year. There were lots and lots of rattlesnake weeds. The flowers are on very tall stems with bright yellow petals. The leaves are low-growing and fuzzy. I kept finding myself trying to spot the leaves as I was pedaling along. I guess that's better than keeping a constant eye on the cyclometer. At one of my brief stand-up-and-stretch breaks, I glanced down beside me and saw wild blueberries blooming in profusion! Those of you who have seen my lovely land know I have wild blueberries; these were identical to mine. That was exciting, but it would have been even better if the flowers were already berries! I also saw one mountain laurel plant that was beginning to bloom, and several rhodendendrons in bloom. The flowers were definitely doing their best to make the climb more interesting!
I got to the rest stop on 80 and saw Don Belk pulling out. We exchanged a few brief comments, and then I saw Mike O'Connor. Mike reported having chills and wondered aloud if he should continue. I reminded him that the temperature was in the 90s with the humidity at about 97 percent. Chills were not a good sign. I gave him one of my bags of banana oatmeal raisin cookies, filled my water bottles, ate about 4 oranges, and got back on my bike for the next part of steep climbing.
You know, I've done this stretch of 80 six times now. Despite that, I never remember exactly what to expect. I got to a steep, sharp switchback, and thought to myself, "Oh good! I must be near the Parkway." Well, no--I wasn't. The Parkway was after the *next* steep, sharp switchback. Still, it wasn't too bad. As I got to the rest stop at the top of 80, just before turning onto the Parkway, I realized that I'd actually stopped fewer times on 80 than usual.
After consuming some more oranges, drinking more water and refilling my bottles, I walked over to retrieve my bike. Sitting next to it was a young boy scout. "Are you having fun watching all of us fools?" I asked him. He replied by looking up shyly and asking, "Why do you do it?" Well, in past years, I would have exclaimed, "Oh, it's *fun*!" This year, I realized how the heat, humidity, and bugs were affecting me as I stood in silence for a minute thinking, "Why *do* we do this?" The kid was smart, though. He didn't wait much longer until he said, "Is it just to show you can do it?" Well, yeah. I guess it is. Especially when the weather is anything less than ideal. I think this was the rest stop where I looked down and realized that one of the bugs I kept swatting away had actually drawn blood on my right leg! After that, I stopped waving at them and started smacking them. If I had blood on my body, it would be bug blood, not Libby blood!
The Parkway seemed harder this year than in past years--strange since I felt pretty good at the top of 80. I think my body was having trouble without that Big Mac as I had to stop periodically between rest stops to eat a cookie or two. Drinking was still an issue, of course, as the Parkway consists of 2 downhills and all the rest is up, up, uphill. So, I'd stop, eat and/or drink, stretch, and get back on the bike. At the next rest stop, I found out there were still about 15 riders behind me. That may seem embarrassing to those of you who are faster than I, but I felt good knowing I was ahead of that many people!
At the last rest stop before turning onto the access road to Mt. Mitchell, I thought about Phil Easler and Harry Wilson. This was where the two of them were talking to each other, skipped the rest stop, and *missed* the turn onto the access road! I also knew at this point that I would finish, although I still had about 3 miles of nothing but climbing before there would be a little short stretch where I could actually shift gears. I looked forward to that stretch!!! I was passed by a number of sag vans and shuttles to and from Marion. If I was on the bike, I'd nod and smile; during stretch breaks, I'd usually wave and smile so they knew not to call the cavalry for me.
And the bugs were *still* ... um, er... bugging me!
One of the riders I'd been riding within sight of for some time was at the last rest stop before the top. Another rider who had been nearby must have gone ahead. I stopped, ate oranges, drank water, and--wonder of wonders--saw that they had some Diet Cokes on the rest stop table!!!!! Through my salivating, I asked if I could have one. The rest stop folks were very nice, noted that the drinks were probably warm, but that I could have as many as I wanted. I put two into my rack pack, thanked them repeatedly, and started on the final 2 mile stretch to the top.
Not very long after that, I got to shift out of my granny gear! It felt *wonderful*. And I realized that I could still go quite a distance--as long as it wasn't uphill! I passed the two riders who had been in front of me in record time, watched in my rearview mirror as they disappeared totally from sight, and then hit the final climb to the finish line. I kept thinking to myself, "It must be just around this next corner." Eventually, it *was* just around the next corner, and I was greeted by Debbie who noted that there were about 10 cameras ready to take pictures as I crossed the place where the finish line had been. Yes, they had *just* taken up the finish line, but I didn't care. I finished in 12:08, got my patch for finishing the ride, and changed clothes just in time for my bike and me to get on a very comfortable van to go back to Marion. Debbie did a great job of vetting the van driver to be sure he wasn't going to make all of us as carsick as we usually get going back down to Marion. I took a Bonine as soon as I got to the top, but I usually get carsick coming back down anyway. Not this year! Bob from the Rotary Club in Greenville, SC was an excellent driver. He also seemed to like our group--we told him about the cookie ride, the martini ride, the beers and pizza we were going to have that night... he seemed to think we had the right approach to biking.
So, in summary, what was it like this year? What do I remember the most? And, will I do it again?
Hot! Humid! Buggy! I ended up with *welts* on my legs, arms, and face from the bugs. It was fun to ride to Marion with Sarah. The wildflowers were making an especially impressive show. The volunteers were cheerful, helpful, and encouraging. The oranges were plentiful.
Yes. Although I think next year, I'll use the 26 chainring Bruce Lee gave me. I didn't have time to put it on this year, and my 30 has stood me in good stead so I wasn't worried about it, but a smaller chainring will be a nice aid, I think.
But, the best part about the trip, as it has always been, are my biking buddies. We missed Phil and Sara Easler, John Crill, Paul Thomas, John Daly, Bruce Bridgman and Jeanne Yang, Steve Kirincich, Beth Gregory, Marie Ianonne, and others from past trips. But we had a good group--ate a lot, biked a lot, laughed a lot. And we'll hope the others join us again next year.