Super Craving: Mount Shasta Super Century

Today’s guest blogger is Ron Forrester of Portland, Oregon. Ron is also know as @cychosis on Twitter. Here he shares insight into the ride known as the Mount Shasta Super Century.

Last year, I rode the Shasta Super Century for the first time. It’s a beautiful and daunting ride. One day. 135 miles (217 km). 16,000+ feet (5,000+ meters) of elevation gain, with major climbs.

I spent the first seven months of 2008 training as hard as possible. I spent many hours away from my family, riding at least five organized centuries and numerous long, unorganized rides. I trained diligently in the west hills of Portland, climbing the short, steep ascents of Germantown, Newberry, Hall, and Logie Trail. Every bit of my cycling passion and focus aimed toward that one goal: complete the entire 135-mile Shasta Super Century course.

A year ago August, my buddy and I completed the goal.

But the completion taught us many lessons. The most important of which was that if the ride organizers suggest starting at 5:30 a.m., then start at 5:30 a.m. We overslept (well, my buddy did), and didn’t get started until nearly 7 a.m. From this one seemingly minor mistake, a cascading series of failures ensued.

It started with missing “second lunch.” A ride like this requires an unreal number of calories, something I didn’t fully appreciate, despite the other flat century and double century rides that I’d done. Missing second lunch brought the onset of bonking, which had us progressively (or should I say regressively) slowing down every mile. Second lunch is placed right before the start of the final climb of Mt. Shasta, a 14-mile, 4,000-foot march upward. We were so late in our arrival that all three Rest Stops up the final climb were also closed. We were fully bonked. Only the kindness of the final Rest Stop truck stopping to check on us got us the calories and blood sugars we needed to make the finish line. It took well over 2 hours to do that one climb. We rode down the mountain in complete darkness. Our time on the bike, 10:45.

When this year’s Mount Shasta Super Century started, we resolved to avoid all the mistakes of 2008 — we would not travel down a day early and ride up Shasta, needlessly tiring our legs. We would not eat all our meals at the Black Bear Diner but would bring our own healthy, riding-appropriate nutrition supplies. We would not oversleep but would pop out of bed at 4 a.m., consume good food and be ready to roll around the 5:30 a.m., ensuring second lunch and all rest stops would be available to complete the mission. We would treat the first 20-mile climb with respect and leave behind our legs on it. We would eat and drink at each rest stop until nearly uncomfortable. Bonking would not be an option.

We succeeded in each and every one of those goals. We found ourselves at first lunch, 60 miles and one big climb in, at a comfortable 11 a.m. Yet things were going wrong. Very wrong. Over those first 60 miles, I was being forced to realize that despite checking off all those important goals, I had forgotten one thing in my 2009 preparations: training.

I hadn’t done any organized centuries. I’d been on only three or four rides over 65 miles, and had only spent maybe a quarter of the time in the hills that I had in the previous year. Sitting there eating that incredibly delicious lunch at 11 a.m., my body was telling me in no uncertain terms that there was little chance I would finish this ride, with 75 miles and 10,000 feet of climbing that remained.

Added to that, my buddy’s body had picked this day, the one day we had talked about for months, to get sick. Horribly sick. We each saw it in the others eyes. The disappointment of failure and the desire to salvage something of success. We agreed to skip the middle two climbs, and head straight over to Shasta and try and give that, the most gorgeous ascent, whatever we had left. We finished eating and started pedaling.

Within 1 mile of starting the climb, my buddy couldn’t continue, the sickness winning over. I was feeling somewhat refreshed from lunch, so I jabbed his mini-pump in my jersey and set my mind to finishing the final thirteen miles at 6% grade. I felt good. I pedaled hard and passed several people who had already done the middle two climbs. If they were in a condition allowing them to speak, I told them what a cheater I was, what shame I had, and I tried to encourage them to continue.

I reached Bunny Flats, 3 miles from the summit, and it hit me that I didn’t deserve to summit this mountain, even if I could. I was feeling pretty cooked by then. I took one look across the gorgeous landscape, then back down the road behind me at the weaving, winding, completely used up riders fighting all internal impulse to stop, and I turned around. I let gravity take me in her arms and carry me down that mountain, smiling the whole way as I hit speeds of 45 miles per hour. In my failure, I was determined to check off the last goal I had made for this ride — enjoy it.

All of 2009 I concentrated hard on correcting last year’s failures — so much so that I forgot to make time to execute and improve upon the previous year’s successes. With my newest checklist in hand, I wonder what 2010 will bring.

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Tagged as: bikecrave, cycling training, mount shasta, portland