I live in Prescott, AZ. The `flattest' training course I can find is 27 miles and 1,500 feet of climbing.
Last year I rode only 7,100 miles but climbed 570,000 feet. At this point in 2013 I've ridden 2,080 miles and climbed 112,000 feet. I'm trying to do more miles this year while not pushing the million feet climbed mark. In other words, my location doesn't allow me NOT to climb a lot.
For long steady miles of climbing 3% - 5% grades do your best to find a low gear that allows you to remain aerobic. Your goal should be to complete the long climb with plenty of energy remaining for the rest of the ride.
On short steep climbs there are a few things to consider. If the grade is (in my case) between 12 - 15%, and only 20 - 30 yards long I gear down to my lowest gear and employ both high spinning rpms and watch my speed. If my speed gets below 4.5 mph I know I'm risking wobbling and will consider walking up the hill. I allow my heart rate to increase, knowing it will be very temporary.
On rolling terrain I try to use accelerate my speed and let inertia take me up as much of the next roller as possible. And then I just assess how much I need to gradually increase watts/power while gearing down into lower gears. Always a judgment call as to the ultimate length of the course and how strong my legs are.
On long rides involving a variety of flats, rollers, short hills and steep climbs (not to mention switchbacks with 22% corners) I have to measure out my effort so that I don't get destroyed by being overly aggressive on the climbs. And then, of course, there is the issue of `headwind' or `tailwind.' And the heat.
Yesterday 80.2 miles 7,240 feet I was fortunate to have a 15-20 mph tailwind climbing a 9 mile long 4-9% grade section of road. I was faster climbing and my heart rate was manageable. Sadly, that was a rare exception. I'm usually grinding up that grade much more slowly.
In my case, and only because I don't have much of a choice, I've gotten stronger legs and hips. Because of that I'm pretty good at climbing both short and long. But I learned, of course, how to do this slowly and with lots of sloppy rides. That is, I'd go too fast, climb too hard, and find myself depleted of energy over the last half or so of the ride.
Some times I'll ride a course of long miles of relatively short rollers (2 - 4%). Given that I always get a chance to `rest' on the downhill sections I'll hammer. With time and experience it is a reasonable thing to do. And it's lots of fun, esp with a strong tailwind.
FWIW I weigh around 185-190 lbs, train with weight (lots of water, sometimes 3 seasons worth of clothes because of the frequent changes in altitude), and am 67. I don't really know what being 67 means in terms my ability and performance because I never did this crazy ultra stuff when I was younger. I can only guess that if I put the same effort and intensity into Ultracycling when I was younger I would have produced better results.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
More on motivation ...
(I ride without music. Part of it has to do with safety. Part of it has to do with the fact that, after a while, it's like chewing dead chewing gum. At least half my reason for no music is because I get a chance to think about things.)
Yesterday, on an 8 hour ride, a few things came together for me about my own motivation.
I entered three 24 hour races in the past 12 months and finished none of them. If nothing else, I spent a lot of money traveling places just to DNF.
I didn't feel the least bit `bad' about DNF'ing three big events in a row. THAT is what really got me thinking about motivation.
Why did I put all that time and money into something that, when I DNF'd, it wasn't a problem?
On two of the 24 hour events my DNF was, what I consider, `legitimate. That is I didn't have the physical resources to finish (another story). However, this last February was different. I stopped after 14 hours because `it wasn't worth it.'
Not `worth' it?!
And no sense of disappointment in myself after DNF'ing?!
Here is where you, the reader, may want to stop reading. Although this is about `motivation' it has to do with MY motivation. Maybe generalizable to you. Maybe not.
-----------
Work in process. That's how I consider myself these days.
First, I've learned not to be so vulnerable to other's opinion of me or my actions. We can call it many things but `maturity' is probably the most accurate.
Second, my own temperament. We each have a `temperament' and psychological research suggests that there is a great deal of heritability to temperament. I have a low tolerance for most people, despite my profession. When younger I tended to try to change people. Now, older and more mature, I realize that is disrespectful and pointless.
Finally, I am concerned about what only a very few people think of me or my actions. (And, if their opinion of me is based on my cycling performance ... we've both made a mistake).
--
Several years ago I gave an interview about why I was doing the Race Across the West - RAW (which I ultimately didn't finish). The interviewer stated that it was a certainty that I would finish. I corrected him, stating that "if I knew I could do it I wouldn't." ?!!
RAW, to me, was an unanswered question. Did I have it in me to finish? I found out that I did not have sufficient training to finish. The lesson was that Ultracycling is harder than I thought. And if I wanted to be successful at it I would have to devote more time and resources to training.
I subsequently put in more time and devoted more resources to my training. I completed a few events (including a 24 hour race) that had never been before on a recumbent.
More important, however, I learned what it takes to successfully complete significant Ultracycling events.
--
The 24 hour event that I ended after 14 hours because it wasn't `worth it' confirmed to me what I said several years earlier: If I knew I could do it I wouldn't. I knew that I could successfully complete the 24 hour event. So I stopped when the `pain v. benefit' equation became apparent.
Why, then, did I devote so much time and effort to the 24 hour event?
--
So this is what I have learned about myself, so far.
What a surprise.
Surprised because I recognized that the core source of motivation for me is consistent: Only a challenge that is mammoth, the outcome of which I am uncertain, is `worth it.' ("If I knew I could do it I wouldn't.")
Surprised that I was interested in the people of the event. A `social' appeal?! This realization is counter to all the psychological defenses I have built to keep from being hurt by other's opinion of me. It counters my `hermit' temperament.
--
So, what am I going to do differently, now that I have conscious awareness of the topography of my motivation?
Well, first, I'm going to admit that I am more social than I have allowed. Deconstructing some defenses is scary, but `worth it.'
Then I'm going to be more careful about choosing cycling challenges. It turns out that I live in a location that has no end to cycling challenges. Is it `worth it' to me to attempt these challenges knowing that social approval and prestige are unlikely to be gained? A `private' challenge.
Then there is, for me, the moral component of this. Training for and spending money on events that I ultimately don't really care about has implications.
An intense training plan means that I short-change family and friends. When I'm training I'm absent. When I'm not training I'm tired and not much of a friend or husband.
Money is not for free. Without going into detail it is a moral `thing' for me to not `waste' money that other people deservedly need. Hotels, gasoline and road food ... these are not socially appropriate uses of money.
Yesterday, on an 8 hour ride, a few things came together for me about my own motivation.
I entered three 24 hour races in the past 12 months and finished none of them. If nothing else, I spent a lot of money traveling places just to DNF.
I didn't feel the least bit `bad' about DNF'ing three big events in a row. THAT is what really got me thinking about motivation.
Why did I put all that time and money into something that, when I DNF'd, it wasn't a problem?
On two of the 24 hour events my DNF was, what I consider, `legitimate. That is I didn't have the physical resources to finish (another story). However, this last February was different. I stopped after 14 hours because `it wasn't worth it.'
Not `worth' it?!
And no sense of disappointment in myself after DNF'ing?!
Here is where you, the reader, may want to stop reading. Although this is about `motivation' it has to do with MY motivation. Maybe generalizable to you. Maybe not.
-----------
Work in process. That's how I consider myself these days.
First, I've learned not to be so vulnerable to other's opinion of me or my actions. We can call it many things but `maturity' is probably the most accurate.
Second, my own temperament. We each have a `temperament' and psychological research suggests that there is a great deal of heritability to temperament. I have a low tolerance for most people, despite my profession. When younger I tended to try to change people. Now, older and more mature, I realize that is disrespectful and pointless.
Finally, I am concerned about what only a very few people think of me or my actions. (And, if their opinion of me is based on my cycling performance ... we've both made a mistake).
--
Several years ago I gave an interview about why I was doing the Race Across the West - RAW (which I ultimately didn't finish). The interviewer stated that it was a certainty that I would finish. I corrected him, stating that "if I knew I could do it I wouldn't." ?!!
RAW, to me, was an unanswered question. Did I have it in me to finish? I found out that I did not have sufficient training to finish. The lesson was that Ultracycling is harder than I thought. And if I wanted to be successful at it I would have to devote more time and resources to training.
I subsequently put in more time and devoted more resources to my training. I completed a few events (including a 24 hour race) that had never been before on a recumbent.
More important, however, I learned what it takes to successfully complete significant Ultracycling events.
--
The 24 hour event that I ended after 14 hours because it wasn't `worth it' confirmed to me what I said several years earlier: If I knew I could do it I wouldn't. I knew that I could successfully complete the 24 hour event. So I stopped when the `pain v. benefit' equation became apparent.
Why, then, did I devote so much time and effort to the 24 hour event?
--
So this is what I have learned about myself, so far.
- My real motive for the race was `social.'
- I wanted to meet the people I had communicated with for years but never `saw.'
- I wanted to spend time with a few old friends I missed.
- I wanted to see the 24 hour course that so many people had talked about.
What a surprise.
Surprised because I recognized that the core source of motivation for me is consistent: Only a challenge that is mammoth, the outcome of which I am uncertain, is `worth it.' ("If I knew I could do it I wouldn't.")
Surprised that I was interested in the people of the event. A `social' appeal?! This realization is counter to all the psychological defenses I have built to keep from being hurt by other's opinion of me. It counters my `hermit' temperament.
--
So, what am I going to do differently, now that I have conscious awareness of the topography of my motivation?
Well, first, I'm going to admit that I am more social than I have allowed. Deconstructing some defenses is scary, but `worth it.'
Then I'm going to be more careful about choosing cycling challenges. It turns out that I live in a location that has no end to cycling challenges. Is it `worth it' to me to attempt these challenges knowing that social approval and prestige are unlikely to be gained? A `private' challenge.
Then there is, for me, the moral component of this. Training for and spending money on events that I ultimately don't really care about has implications.
An intense training plan means that I short-change family and friends. When I'm training I'm absent. When I'm not training I'm tired and not much of a friend or husband.
Money is not for free. Without going into detail it is a moral `thing' for me to not `waste' money that other people deservedly need. Hotels, gasoline and road food ... these are not socially appropriate uses of money.
Friday, March 22, 2013
The Role of `Anger' in Motivation
Anger is kerosene looking for a match.
Anger is `ready, FIRE, aim.'
In my private practice I'd tell my patients that `comparing yourself to others is the road to hell.' Some of us spend our life struggling to the summit of a steep climb only to discover another steep climb to another summit. And on and on.
It isn't surprising, then, to find so many feeling overwhelmed to the point of giving up.
A more considered view of `motivation' involves asking ourselves what we really desire, value, `want.' To let other's opinions of us to bleed into what we think of ourselves ... is the road to hell.
Ultracycling, I've stated elsewhere, is a humility training machine. When we try difficult things we discover strengths and limits. The term `limits,' however is elastic. The All-Terrain Human When we `stop' an activity it is usually a conscious decision rather than a physical depletion.
Twice, that I'm aware of (i.e., conscious of) in the past several months I've found myself doing things I would not have done had I not had an almost blinding sense of `anger.'
The first occurred while riding the bike through a completely desolate and empty Arizona canyon terrain. "The Beast"
Most recently I was descending a straight road with a good shoulder at 35 mph. Suddenly, a barely noticeable rumble strip appeared alongside an equally unnoticeable patch of small gravel. I skimmed the rumble strip, turning into the gravel patch and started to wobble, preceding a potentially messy `go down.'
Having had some pretty spectacular wipe-outs in this mountainous terrain over the past year and a half ... I got really angry!!
My anger `motivated' me to be determined NOT to go down. From an initial speed of 35 mph I wrestled with the slipping and sliding bike until I was doing less than 3 or 4 mph before I `decided' to accede to gravity and physics. When I did go down I didn't slide or hit the pavement with force. I literally just `laid down.' No road rash. No scratches or damage to the bike. And I immediately got to my feet.
Fear and anger use the same `wiring' in our brain. However, fear often results in `flight,' while anger often results in `fight. But, of course, it's not that simple.
Either of the fight or flight `reactions' can keep us alive. And here is where comes the distinction between a `reaction' and a `response.'
A reaction bypasses that part of us that makes us different from lower primates, i.e,, a prefrontal cortex (or forehead). (Threat > fear > reaction (flight/fight).)
The desired outcome is safety but that isn't always what happens. A `reaction' doesn't get run through our thinking brain. A `response' does.
Paleolithic (stone-age) man used to hunt large game by forming a group and then `spooking' the large game (buffalo, elephants, etc) into running off a cliff. The large game were reacting, i.e., not thinking about the possibility that they were going to be killed by a `gravity attack.'
A better response for the large game would be to look at their previous experience, compare it to the current threat, and decide what was the action that would lead to their safety. (Threat > fear/anger > thinking about what worked in the past > comparing the past to the present circumstance > a thoughtful response.)
But buffalo don't have a prefrontal cortex / forehead.
Anger, in my situation, seems to have got my `thinking' process activated to perform a series of actions that improved the odds of my safety.
But be careful.
I'm thinking, these days, how I can step back a bit to see what `lever' in my psyche that anger pulls. (I think it has to do with a mental `rehearsal' of all that could go wrong in an upcoming event so that I can plan to avoid it or minimize harm if and when the threat occurs).
So, I'm not hoping to unleash my `anger' as a tool for self-protection. Rather, I'm stepping back and using previous experience to anticipate danger. Without the `kerosene' of raging emotion.
Anger is `ready, FIRE, aim.'
In my private practice I'd tell my patients that `comparing yourself to others is the road to hell.' Some of us spend our life struggling to the summit of a steep climb only to discover another steep climb to another summit. And on and on.
It isn't surprising, then, to find so many feeling overwhelmed to the point of giving up.
A more considered view of `motivation' involves asking ourselves what we really desire, value, `want.' To let other's opinions of us to bleed into what we think of ourselves ... is the road to hell.
Ultracycling, I've stated elsewhere, is a humility training machine. When we try difficult things we discover strengths and limits. The term `limits,' however is elastic. The All-Terrain Human When we `stop' an activity it is usually a conscious decision rather than a physical depletion.
Twice, that I'm aware of (i.e., conscious of) in the past several months I've found myself doing things I would not have done had I not had an almost blinding sense of `anger.'
The first occurred while riding the bike through a completely desolate and empty Arizona canyon terrain. "The Beast"
Most recently I was descending a straight road with a good shoulder at 35 mph. Suddenly, a barely noticeable rumble strip appeared alongside an equally unnoticeable patch of small gravel. I skimmed the rumble strip, turning into the gravel patch and started to wobble, preceding a potentially messy `go down.'
Having had some pretty spectacular wipe-outs in this mountainous terrain over the past year and a half ... I got really angry!!
My anger `motivated' me to be determined NOT to go down. From an initial speed of 35 mph I wrestled with the slipping and sliding bike until I was doing less than 3 or 4 mph before I `decided' to accede to gravity and physics. When I did go down I didn't slide or hit the pavement with force. I literally just `laid down.' No road rash. No scratches or damage to the bike. And I immediately got to my feet.
Fear and anger use the same `wiring' in our brain. However, fear often results in `flight,' while anger often results in `fight. But, of course, it's not that simple.
Either of the fight or flight `reactions' can keep us alive. And here is where comes the distinction between a `reaction' and a `response.'
A reaction bypasses that part of us that makes us different from lower primates, i.e,, a prefrontal cortex (or forehead). (Threat > fear > reaction (flight/fight).)
The desired outcome is safety but that isn't always what happens. A `reaction' doesn't get run through our thinking brain. A `response' does.
Paleolithic (stone-age) man used to hunt large game by forming a group and then `spooking' the large game (buffalo, elephants, etc) into running off a cliff. The large game were reacting, i.e., not thinking about the possibility that they were going to be killed by a `gravity attack.'
A better response for the large game would be to look at their previous experience, compare it to the current threat, and decide what was the action that would lead to their safety. (Threat > fear/anger > thinking about what worked in the past > comparing the past to the present circumstance > a thoughtful response.)
But buffalo don't have a prefrontal cortex / forehead.
Anger, in my situation, seems to have got my `thinking' process activated to perform a series of actions that improved the odds of my safety.
But be careful.
I'm thinking, these days, how I can step back a bit to see what `lever' in my psyche that anger pulls. (I think it has to do with a mental `rehearsal' of all that could go wrong in an upcoming event so that I can plan to avoid it or minimize harm if and when the threat occurs).
So, I'm not hoping to unleash my `anger' as a tool for self-protection. Rather, I'm stepping back and using previous experience to anticipate danger. Without the `kerosene' of raging emotion.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
A `Common Man' Perspective on Ultracycling
I spent the day yesterday glued to a chair and a computer ... like any good ultracyclist.
I don't really like `riding' a bike. Like, `riding' through pastoral settings on a sunny day, just breathing in the scenery and delight. Boring. Too much work. Uncomfortable. I'd feel guilty for not doing something `productive.' I don't DO `joy.'
I'd rather be home watching `Bourne' reruns and drinking beer.
Most of my birth family is dead. And they should be. At least, speaking from a `lifestyle' perspective, they should be dead. Smoking, drugs, alcohol, reckless risk-taking and physical violence. Most people reading this are already nodding their heads in personal agreement. It's not like `dysfunctional families' are uncommon. In fact, in our cultures they're the norm.
Cycling is a `healthy' thing. It distracts me from depressing rumination. It's relatively inexpensive. It affords me the convenience of a passable excuse for not being more sociable. And depression, hangovers and feeling fat, weak and unhealthy are things I don't have to deal with. (Does that mean I'm avoiding a fully engaged life? Absolutely. Aren't we all! Jesus! What a tyranny to be `the best we can be.' Gag!!)
Back to ultracycling.
More than a few top-ranked ultracyclists are rich. Rich enough so that `making a living' doesn't take much time or energy. And they do what most people do: `Y'a gotta stay busy.'
More than a few really good ultracyclists compress two lives into one by shorting sleep, relationships, career/job development, family. They are as fanatical about living a `balanced' life as they are about ultracycling. And, of course, that's impossible. And, of course, `denial' is a big part of their reality.
And then there are the annoying few who are simply gifted with talent. They don't read my blog because they're lazy, busy with sleep, or playing video games in the dark on a smelly stained couch in their parent's basement (at age 40).
I kept waking up last night doing `cost/time/effort' analyses between two ultracycling options in April. Option # 1 is to do a 24 hour solo event in my own `back yard.' Option # 2 is to do a 600K brevet in Tucson, 5 hours and 250 miles south of me.
Money: Option #1 will cost me ... nothing. Option #2 will cost me gas, 3 nights in a motel, road food ... totaling about $350 bucks.
Time: Option # 1 will take about 30 hours, total. Option # 2 will take 3.5 days.
Relationships: #1, not much. In fact, my wife and the few friends I have (I'm `good' but I'm not `nice') will probably want to be involved to some degree. #2, mostly strangers to me. And on brevets and other ultracycling things I tend to ride my own pace (which is either slower or faster, but never in a group). When I'm not riding I tend to be either impatient or sort'a gruff. Or both. I like to be alone a lot. (Maybe I'm an introvert. But more likely I'm just temperamentally a grouch, often offending people with my blunt ways, unconcerned about approval or fitting in).
Being Productive: #1. You bet! Confronting challenges that are meaningful to me. #2. I'd probably come back feeling like I wasted time and money, and neglected important relationships. And only afterwords would I admit: who couldn't ride 360 miles in two days, stopping frequently and spending the night sleeping in a comfy bed?!!
I'm not much different than most people. Except that I've made it my occupation to find that out.
So that's why I used the term `Common Man' in the title of this post.
I don't really like `riding' a bike. Like, `riding' through pastoral settings on a sunny day, just breathing in the scenery and delight. Boring. Too much work. Uncomfortable. I'd feel guilty for not doing something `productive.' I don't DO `joy.'
I'd rather be home watching `Bourne' reruns and drinking beer.
Most of my birth family is dead. And they should be. At least, speaking from a `lifestyle' perspective, they should be dead. Smoking, drugs, alcohol, reckless risk-taking and physical violence. Most people reading this are already nodding their heads in personal agreement. It's not like `dysfunctional families' are uncommon. In fact, in our cultures they're the norm.
Cycling is a `healthy' thing. It distracts me from depressing rumination. It's relatively inexpensive. It affords me the convenience of a passable excuse for not being more sociable. And depression, hangovers and feeling fat, weak and unhealthy are things I don't have to deal with. (Does that mean I'm avoiding a fully engaged life? Absolutely. Aren't we all! Jesus! What a tyranny to be `the best we can be.' Gag!!)
Back to ultracycling.
More than a few top-ranked ultracyclists are rich. Rich enough so that `making a living' doesn't take much time or energy. And they do what most people do: `Y'a gotta stay busy.'
More than a few really good ultracyclists compress two lives into one by shorting sleep, relationships, career/job development, family. They are as fanatical about living a `balanced' life as they are about ultracycling. And, of course, that's impossible. And, of course, `denial' is a big part of their reality.
And then there are the annoying few who are simply gifted with talent. They don't read my blog because they're lazy, busy with sleep, or playing video games in the dark on a smelly stained couch in their parent's basement (at age 40).
I kept waking up last night doing `cost/time/effort' analyses between two ultracycling options in April. Option # 1 is to do a 24 hour solo event in my own `back yard.' Option # 2 is to do a 600K brevet in Tucson, 5 hours and 250 miles south of me.
Money: Option #1 will cost me ... nothing. Option #2 will cost me gas, 3 nights in a motel, road food ... totaling about $350 bucks.
Time: Option # 1 will take about 30 hours, total. Option # 2 will take 3.5 days.
Relationships: #1, not much. In fact, my wife and the few friends I have (I'm `good' but I'm not `nice') will probably want to be involved to some degree. #2, mostly strangers to me. And on brevets and other ultracycling things I tend to ride my own pace (which is either slower or faster, but never in a group). When I'm not riding I tend to be either impatient or sort'a gruff. Or both. I like to be alone a lot. (Maybe I'm an introvert. But more likely I'm just temperamentally a grouch, often offending people with my blunt ways, unconcerned about approval or fitting in).
Being Productive: #1. You bet! Confronting challenges that are meaningful to me. #2. I'd probably come back feeling like I wasted time and money, and neglected important relationships. And only afterwords would I admit: who couldn't ride 360 miles in two days, stopping frequently and spending the night sleeping in a comfy bed?!!
I'm not much different than most people. Except that I've made it my occupation to find that out.
So that's why I used the term `Common Man' in the title of this post.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
2013
Should be a good year for cycling. Lot's of major life change issues (retirement, selling house, relocating, renovating new house, scoping out banks needing to be robbed to pay for all of this, etc.) were resolved in '11 and '12.
2012 cycling was mostly restricted to riding in the mountains. Seven-thousand miles and 670,000 feet of climbing. So, that proved to me that `this' 'bent can climb. But there are `downsides' to training almost exclusively in the mountains.
Going to try to stay more local in `big' event rides and races this year. (Unless I win that lottery).
A few tentative events in the schedule:
Recently put together a set of local training courses that don't include constant mountain grades. Combining mountain training and flat-ish land training will increase miles and decrease feet climbed. But, such a training demographic should prepare me better for the events noted.
This constitutes both the mountain and the flat training terrain in my neck of the woods. Can it be any better?!
Pioneer Parkway to Hwy 69
Hwy 69/Fain Rd to I-17
Skull Valley Loop - White Spars - Very Difficult
2012 cycling was mostly restricted to riding in the mountains. Seven-thousand miles and 670,000 feet of climbing. So, that proved to me that `this' 'bent can climb. But there are `downsides' to training almost exclusively in the mountains.
Going to try to stay more local in `big' event rides and races this year. (Unless I win that lottery).
A few tentative events in the schedule:
- April 13 - 600K AZ Brevet out of and back to Tucson (Arizona)
- May 25 - Borrego Double Century (California)
- June 2013 - RAAM Solo Maria Parker (www.3000Milestoacure.com) crewing (USA)
- September 14/15 - Hoodoo 300 (Utah) - or -
- September 15 - Skull Valley Loop Challenge (Arizona)
- November 2/3 - World 24 Hour Time Trials (California)
Recently put together a set of local training courses that don't include constant mountain grades. Combining mountain training and flat-ish land training will increase miles and decrease feet climbed. But, such a training demographic should prepare me better for the events noted.
This constitutes both the mountain and the flat training terrain in my neck of the woods. Can it be any better?!
Pioneer Parkway to Hwy 69
Hwy 69/Fain Rd to I-17
Skull Valley Loop - White Spars - Very Difficult
Monday, March 4, 2013
Prescott, Arizona - Road Cyclist's Paradise
Here in Mile High Prescott, Arizona, it is `ground-zero' for mind-blowing mountain biking
$35K Winner's Prize
Don't be surprised if our incredible variety of roads (many on the RAAM route) generate serious road cycling venues.
200 Mile, 14,000 ft of Climbing, Road Cycling Course
$35K Winner's Prize
Don't be surprised if our incredible variety of roads (many on the RAAM route) generate serious road cycling venues.
200 Mile, 14,000 ft of Climbing, Road Cycling Course
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