Now, nearly 20 years after the first Dirty Dozen was held in Pittsburgh, the concept has made its way to Melbourne.

The dirtiest of the dozen: Terrys Avenue.

Date: Sunday May 27
Time: 10.00am
Location: Mobil petrol station, cnr Burwood Hwy and Hughes St, Upwey
Ride length: 30km
Total ascent: 1,326m

Dirty Dozen, Down Under

While Melbourne doesn’t have as many sizeable climbs as Pittsburgh within 10 miles of its CBD, it does have the magnificent Dandenong Ranges, roughly 40km east of town. Working together over the past few weeks, David Blom and I have put together a truly epic challenge ride on the lower slopes of Mt. Dandenong.

We’ve assembled 12 of the steepest, most challenging climbs in the Dandenongs and strung them back-to-back over a 30km course. We’ll be heading out to Upwey on May 27 to ride the inaugural Melbourne Dirty Dozen and we’d love you to join us.

Full disclosure: this will be a very challenging ride. It’s not a long course, but what it lacks in length it more than makes up for in leg-smashing gradients. More on that in a moment …

Guidelines

While this is a casual group ride, a couple of guidelines should help make the ride safer, more enjoyable and hopefully more memorable:

• We’ll be regrouping at the top of each climb before continuing on. This will keep the group together, it will give the faster riders a chance to encourage slower riders, and it will ensure no-one gets lost!
• This isn’t a race. By all means, attack the climbs, but remember: we’ll be regrouping before moving on. If you’ve danced your way up a climb and left the rest of us behind, be prepared to wait at the top!
• Be very careful on the steep descents. Falling off your bike going up an impossibly steep gradient at 4km/h is funny, crashing at 104 km/h isn’t. We’ve made sure to exclude the descent of Terrys Avenue from the course due to safety concerns but we will still be descending some steep roads. Please make sure your brakes are working and take it easy!
• Obey the road rules. This one should go without saying. Be aware that this is a casual group ride with no road closures in place.
• Have fun! Sure, it’s a tough ride, but the satisfaction at the end of any ride is directly proportional to the difficulty of that ride. Treat this as a social ride; encourage one other over each of the climbs and relish the opportunity to ride in such a beautiful part of the world.

Ride route

View Larger Map

Here’s a turn-by-turn guide to the Dirty Dozen course. The letters in brackets below correspond with the waypoints in the map above:

1. Meet at the corner of Burwood Highway and Hughes Street (A).
2. Climb Hughes Street all the way to the Mt. Dandenong Tourist Road (B) (climb #1).
3. Turn left on to the Mt. Dandenong Tourist Road and descent until Janiesleigh Road (C).
4. Climb Janiesleigh Road in to Jones Avenue and Olivette Avenue before reaching Hughes Road (D) (climb #2).
5. Descend Hughes Road to Burwood Highway. Follow Burwood Highway toward Belgrave until you reach Chosen Avenue (E).
6. Turn left at Chosen Avenue and follow it around the right-hand side of the footy oval to the corner of Alexander Avenue and Austral Avenue (F).
7. Climb Alexander Avenue to Mast Gully Road (G) (climb #3).
8. Descend Alexander Avenue, turn left on to Oakland Avenue, follow it around to the right, then around to the left then right again. Turn left on to Blackwood Street and follow to the corner of Gordon Avenue.
9. Climb Gordon Avenue until the road ends (H) (climb #4).
10. Descend Gordon Avenue, turn left on to Blackwood Street, right on to Sandells Road, right on to Olive Grove and follow to the intersection of Brenda Grove and Sophia Grove.
11. Climb Brendan Grove, into Pauline Avenue, turn right into Tinto Grove and follow up Acacia Avenue to the corner of Alexander Avenue. (I) (climb #5).
12. Follow Alexander Avenue into The Avenue and continue to the corner of Mast Gully Road. Turn left then right immediately on to Wright Avenue.
13. Climb Wright Avenue all the way to the top, noting a right turn toward the end. (J) (climb #6).
14. Descend Wright Avenue and turn left on to Mast Gully Road.
15. Climb Mast Gully Road all the way to the Mt. Dandenong Tourist Road, noting a right turn and left turn half-way up. (K) (climb #7).
16. Descend Mast Gully Road all the way back down to Burwood Highway, turn left on to Burwood Highway and follow until Sandells Road (L).
17. Turn left on to Sandells Road and follow until Frame Avenue on the right.
18. Climb Frame Avenue until the T-intersection (M) (climb #8).
19. Descend Kitchener Road to Francis Street (N).
20. Climb Kitchener Road all the way to the top (climb #9).
21. Descend Kitchener Road briefly before turning right on to Frame Road. Descend Frame Road to Sandells Road, turn right on to Sandells Road and follow to Olive Grove.
22. Climb Sandells Road all the way to Terrys Avenue (O) (climb #10).
23. Descend Sandells Road to the Serpentine.
24. Climb The Serpentine all the way to Terrys Avenue (P) (climb #11).
25. Turn around and descend the Serpentine to Sandells Road.
26. Descend Sandells Road, turn left on to Burwood Highway and follow through Belgrave to the Wattle Avenue/Terrys Avenue roundabout (Q).
27. Climb  Terrys Avenue all the way to the Mt. Dandenong Tourist Road (R). (climb #12)
28. Rejoice.

Course profile

You’ll notice that the three hardest climbs of the day are spread throughout the ride. The final climb, Terrys Avenue, is split into two parts by a short downhill but, for the sake of the ride, we’ve counted it as one (horrible) climb.

Climb statistics

Many of these climbs are only short — more than half are under 1km long — but short certainly doesn’t mean easy. Here’s a breakdown of each of the climbs, in order, showing the length of each climb, the elevation gained and the average gradient. All distance measurements (climb length, base and summit altitude and total ascent are in metres:

Course overview video

Here’s a video with some more detailed information about each of the 12 climbs:

Important information

Weather

As with any ride at this time of year, the weather will be a big factor in this ride. Descending some of these roads in the wet with a group won’t be all that safe and if the forecast is looking particularly grim, we’ll call the ride off. Check The Climbing Cyclist Facebook page, Twitter stream (using the hashtag #dirtydozen) or the comments below for updates.

Be sure to bring a rain jacket even if the weather’s looking fine — things can turn ugly in the Dandenongs very quickly.

Public transport

The ride starts directly opposite Upwey train station — the third-to-last station on the Belgrave line.

Photos and video

It would be great to get as many people taking photos and video as possible. I’ll be putting together a video and an image gallery after the ride and the more content I’ve got to work with the better. I’ll credit you appropriately, of course!

Equipment

Be sure to check your brakes before coming on this ride. We’ll be descending some very steep roads!

In terms of gearing, I’d strongly suggest riding a 27-tooth gear (or bigger!) at the back if at all possible. Some of these climbs have pinches in excess of 20% which won’t be any fun at all with a 39×25. A compact crankset would be even better — I know I’ll be using every tooth on my 34×28 compact setup!

Bailing

One of the advantages of riding the lower slopes of Mt. Dandenong is that you’re never far from civilisation should you decide you’ve had enough. For most of the ride we’ll be close to Burwood Highway (a good route back into the city) and within a few kilometres of a train station (Upwey, Tecoma or Belgrave).

Food and drink

Once the ride is completed I’m sure we’ll all be in need of something to eat. With the ride ending at Ferny Creek, there are many nearby options for post-ride food including the townships of Belgrave, Upwey, Upper Ferntree Gully, Tecoma, Sassafras and even Olinda.

GPS file

If you’ve got a Garmin GPS unit and you’d like to download a route file for the course (in .gpx or .tpx format), head to BikeRouteToaster, click Summary and click on the relevant link.

Questions or concerns

If you’ve got a question or concern about this ride, please don’t hesitate to get in touch. You can leave a comment below, send me a tweet, leave me a message on Facebook or send me an email. I’ll endeavour to get back to you ASAP.

One last thing

And before you go, check out this stunning video from the 2010 Pittsburgh Dirty Dozen. Truly brutal (and inspiring!). Thanks Albert for the link!

Mt. Donna Buang: prettiest in the wet.

The other week Jason Spencer wrote a terrific guest post about his third place at the Baw Baw Classic. It’s the kind of performance that few of us can aspire to, least of all myself. I’m one of ‘the rest of us’, the also-rode, the pack fodder.

The good news is that you don’t have to be on the A-grade podium to enjoy racing – it’s a social sport, and there’s always someone your level to work and compete with.

But a couple weekends ago I found myself in a very different place – an uphill battle: the Cycling Express Warburton ITT to the summit of Mt. Donna Buang.

I should confess that nature did not intend for me to ride a bicycle, least of all up hills. No, rather, I think rugby player, or perhaps nightclub bouncer was my intended calling. Imagine a great big bear on a cruiser bike and you’ll have a pretty good idea of how I feel next to the mountain goats. At 181cm tall with 44″ shoulders and tipping the scales at 99kg I’m the guy you want to draft behind on the flat.

So what the heck am I doing racing in the hills? And a mountain time trial?

I entered my first road race just a few weeks ago. In fact it was the same event you’ll find written up by my fellow first-timer, our host Matt de Neef, the Climbing Cyclist himself. I’ve had the opportunity to ride a crit or two, but having recently dipped my weight below 100kg I felt ready for some hillier racing.

I should also say: I’m no stranger to a climb — I’ve finished the Audax Alpine Classic and the 3 Peaks Challenge but as a friendly coach once told me: ‘There’s fit and then there’s race fit’.

I’ve been up Mt. Donna Buang a few times. Donna’s an iconic challenge for Melbourne locals as it’s the only climb over 15km long that’s close-ish to the city. The very first time I tried it, I didn’t finish. The second time, in December 2009, I made it with a time of 2 hours 20 minutes.

Those of you who know Donna will be smirking at that. ’2 hours 20? Did you have a mechanical?’ But let’s recognise the extraordinary here. It’s not that the bear on the bike is slow. The amazing thing is that he goes up at all.

Fast forward to May 2012. This is a big year for me in cycling as I’ve decided to race a lot. Maybe I’ll even build up to entering the Tour of Bright if I can place in the rush for the start list.

In the meantime, the plan is to experience as much road racing as I can, in every format available. So here I am at the, er, ‘Tour of Warburton’, two days of open graded cycling. My worst-case scenario is that it’s a good, hard training weekend.

The day before the Donna Buang ITT I’d ridden the road race in C grade. I’d entered in D because E was unavailable. But due to insufficient numbers, D&C grades were amalgamated.

So when I turned up for the ITT on the Sunday I was thus thoroughly fatigued, having held on as long as I could in the road race, two grades up in chilly, wet conditions. And now I was suiting up for a time trial nature never intended me to enter.

So, come with me, if you will, to the morning of the Donna Buang ITT.

It’s my second ITT – I was at the Kew Boulevard ITT last month – so I have a fair idea of what to expect at the start. I register and collect my numbers with plenty of time to spare — I don’t want to stand in a long queue. There’s less than an hour to departure. I have been fretting all morning about what to wear – the area forecast says cold and foggy, and my experience of Donna Buang tells me to expect drizzle as well as a 10° temperature drop as we climb.

I assemble my bike and decide to include a rain jacket even at the risk of overheating. My wife gives me a supportive smooch and drives up to the summit to cheer me in.

It’s time for a warm-up. I have now seen some of the other participants. I am riding my recently restored titanium roadie with box-section alloy wheels. There are some in the same boat as me with a regular steed but quite a few are on mega-dollar aero dimpled deep-section Teflon superbikes.

They seem to be warming up on rollers and trainers, following a carefully planned sequence of efforts. I have read about this and devised my own highly sophisticated protocol to start my energy systems: I will head up the hill a bit.

It starts to rain.

Actually, this is welcome. The day before, at the road race, the drizzle and dirt and fog had stripped my chain of lubricant. Of course, I’d brought a bottle of Prolink and of course I’d grabbed the empty one by mistake. Rainwater isn’t a great lubricant but I know it is marginally better than none at all. The chain stops making a grinding noise and I stop worrying about premature wear and bad shifting. Even better, the rain has validated my decision to wear the jacket. I was not looking forward to de-cloaking mid-ride with heat trouble.

I trundle up Donna at a gentle pace, throwing in a couple of attacks to spike the heart rate. This is my first opportunity to stretch the legs after yesterday’s race. They don’t feel too bad. After 15 minutes of this I feel warmed up, turn around and roll down the hill.

Now the drizzle hits me hard in the face. I’m on the hoods and not pedaling at all but the windchill and rain is still enough to chill my bones straight away. By the time I’m down my warm-up is all but obliterated, I’m cold again and my nose is running.

I hang out in the clubroom. The registration team has taken off, presumably to the summit. Some stragglers are here, grabbing their numbers off the desk and wondering where the start line is. I run into some friendly faces — they are here as volunteers and we pass the time but they have a job to do so I just sit in the warm.

The Donvale Demon climbing the upper slopes of Mt. Donna Buang (artistic, right?)

I’m not one of those cyclists that normally gets up before 6am to go for a ride … especially when the outside temperature is well and truly in single digits. But when the Donvale Demon sent me a message at 5.30am on Saturday saying he was on his way to Mt. Donna Buang, I bounced out of bed and got myself ready to go.

It had been many months since I’d last climbed Donna and I was keen to test myself on the great mountain. The Demon swung by a little after 6am and we got on the road, grateful for the heater in the car. Setting up the bikes at Warburton it was clear we were in for a cold one — it must have been no more than 8° in town with a several-degree temperature drop ahead of us as we climbed the hill.

We took off and the Demon got straight into the climbing. I was keen to have a bit of a warm-up first so I headed past the Donna Buang turn off for a kilometre or so before heading back and then up the hill. I’d given the Demon a 6-minute headstart and he would act as a good carrot as I worked my way up the mountain.

Looks cold, and it was.

My previous best up the climb was 1 hour 15 minutes, set more than a year ago and I was confident of going under 1 hour 10 minutes on Saturday. A work colleague (and member of the 6amers cycling team) Gus Gollings had told me earlier in the week that an average of 17km/h is necessary if you want a sub-1-hour time up Donna. With that in mind, I took off at 17km/h and tried to hold it as long as I could. I even took the unusual step of popping in the headphones and listening to some tunes as I tried to find a rhythm and the Demon further up the road.

It didn’t take long for 17km/h to become an untenable average and instead I decided to try holding my heartrate at about 180bpm (about 90% of my max) — certainly not comfortable. In fact, after a few kilometers I started thinking I might have gone out a little hard. It was definitely the hardest I’d ever tried to climb Donna before — an intensity of riding I’d normally save for shorter climbs such as the 1 in 20.

When I reached the tough final kilometres before Cement Creek, my speed inevitably dropped but my heartrate hovered in the low 180s. I knew I’d only have to put up with a couple of kilometres of pain before I’d have a chance to sit up and rest. And while those few kays certainly didn’t tickle, they were actually over far quicker than I expected. Perhaps it was the fact I could focus on music, I’m not sure.

The Demon climbs through the black and white wasteland that isn't Mt. Donna Buang.

At the Cement Creek hairpin I took the opportunity to stretch my back and let my heartrate return to something more manageable. It wasn’t long though before I was climbing again and my heartrate was back around 183 with no sign of dropping.

A few kays after Cement Creek I spotted the Demon ahead of me. He appeared to be climbing well and it took me a couple of minutes before I could pass him. With a comfortable rhythm dialled in and the tunes pumping, I kept ticking off the kays.

One of the things that’s become clear to me in a few months’ worth of physio appointments is that my glutes are very weak and my quads are quite strong. The two are related: it seems I spend a fair bit of time climbing out of the saddle (using mainly my quads) and at the slightest sign of distress in my glutes, I seem to stand up and let my quads take over.

Since realising this, I’ve been making a concerted effort to stay seated as much as possible while on the bike. While climbing Donna, this approach left my glutes sore — which is good — and my lower back aching. I think it will take a while for my body to adjust to the new strategy, especially on long climbs.

The Demon had some colour back by the time he reached the last kilometre of the climb.

The whole way up I’d been keeping an eye on the time on my Garmin. I wasn’t trying to; I just couldn’t help looking, working out in my head how long I’d been climbing for. With 3km to go it looked as if a time of less than 1 hour 5 minutes was on the cards. I would need to absolutely motor for those last 3km — no mean feat when you consider the nasty pinch you have to get over in the final kilometre.

But I gave it a crack, pushing as hard as I could. My heartrate hovered uncomfortably close to 190bpm for the last kilometre (95% of my max) and it took a fair bit of stubborness to keep pushing past those car parks to the lookout tower. I hit the lap function on the Garmin as I crossed the finish line: 1 hour 5 minutes 22 seconds. Not quite fast enough to break 1 hour 5 minutes but still well ahead of the time I was aiming for. In fact, I’d managed a PB by 10 minutes: an improvement of 13% on my previous best.

I rolled back down the hill to meet the Demon and together we climbed the final kilometre or so. We didn’t wait around long at the top — after all it was about 3° and neither of us fancied getting frostbite.

Now I’ve descended Donna Buang in the cold before (including a couple of times in the snow and once in winter with only shorts and short-sleeved jersey) so I knew what to expect on Saturday. And despite it being cold, it was actually one of the most enjoyable descents I’ve done in a long time. I felt like I was taking the corners well and it was simply a joy to be riding through a beautiful part of the world … without my heartrate lapping at its threshold.

I got to the bottom of the hill a few minutes ahead of the Demon who, since his mishap at Mt. Baw Baw, is still a little cautious about descending. I don’t blame him either. I turned around at the bottom and started riding back up to meet him, and I shot this short video along the way:

After returning to Warburton the Demon headed to a local cafe to grab a coffee while I headed to a nearby climb I’d heard a bit about but never tried: Martyr Road. I knew it was short and steep, but I definitely wasn’t prepared for what I saw before me. Generally speaking, photos don’t give you a great sense of how steep a road is, but a sign showing the gradient certainly helps:

Ridiculous.

I’ve actually never seen a steeper bit of road in my life and as I rounded the corner I may have uttered an expletive or two. I paused for a moment to consider whether or not I’d even be able to get up it (and I’ve got a 34×28 compact setup). My biggest concern was that I’d get halfway up, run out of gas, try to unclip, unsuccessfully, and tumble down the hill.

But I gave it a crack and went full bore at the thing. I’m not sure there’s any other way, really. It’s too steep to try spinning up it and it’s really just a case of bashing it as hard as possible and hoping that your body holds out. I got through the first ramp alright but took the opportunity to have a rest on the false-flat. Mind you, the false-flat probably had a gradient of about 13%.

I rolled down the hill slightly, clipped in and then bashed up the second part to what I thought was the top, panting like nobody’s business, trying to pay back my oxygen debt. Turns out I didn’t ride to the end of the road and tick off the relevant Strava segment but I didn’t mind — that’s something to look forward to next time … I think.

I rolled back down, shaking my head at the craziness of it all, stopping to take a photo along the way.

Looking up the first ramp (>20%) with the second ramp visible in the background.

Thanks very much for reading today and thanks especially to those of you that took the time to fill in the survey I published last week. I’ve had roughly 115 responses so far, which I’m thrilled about, and it all helps to guide the future direction of the site. So, if you’ve got five minutes and you haven’t filled in the survey, it would be great if you could! This link will take you straight there.

If you aren’t already part of the TCC community on Facebook and Twitter, get on it. You can also follow me on Strava and please feel free to leave comments below.

And just before I go, a quick teaser. I’ve written today about my experience at Donna Buang over the weekend but the weekend before a bunch of hardy cyclists tackled Donna in the wet for an individual time trial. One of those hardy souls, Josh Goodall, competed in the event and has written a terrific guest post about his day out east. Stay posted for that later this week.

If you'd just completed 80km of climbing, you'd be pretty happy too (Image: Alejandro Jiménez).

It’s a ride I’ve always wanted to do and one that I had to wait a long time for. But a few weekends ago, I finally did it: I climbed Alto de Letras. Before I get to that, here’s some information about the climb itself.

Alto de Letras is the hardest cycling climb in Colombia. In fact, many cyclists consider it to be among the most challenging climbs in the world. It’s a climb that’s included in the Vuelta a Colombia (Tour of Colombia) and the Clásico RCN (another Colombian stage race).

The climb starts in the small town of Mariquita which has an altitude of 468 metres above sea-level. By the time you reach the top at the Páramo de Letras pass, you’re at an altitude of 3,663 metres … and you’ve been climbing for 80km.

Those 80km of climbing are at an average gradient of roughly 4%, providing an elevation gain of just under 3,800 vertical metres. That said, the gradient is between 6-9% for most of the ride and there are also many 10%+ ramps to contend with.

Luckily, there are several short downhills (1-3km long) every 15 to 20km which allow you to refocus and take a deep breath … if that’s even possible at that altitude.

The temperature at the start of the climb could be in the mid-20s to mid-30s, depending on the weather conditions and time of day. But at the top temperatures can be as low as 5-10°C; even lower if you get wet (which I did during my ascent).

The group is assembled and ready to go (Image: Alejandro Jiménez).

One of the best parts about my attempt at Alto de Letras was spending time with my mates in the car. It’s a roughly-six-hour drive from Medellin – the second-largest city in Colombia and my hometown –  to Mariquita and spending time with those guys on the long drive made the trip even more memorable.

After the long drive we arrived at the Hotel Las Acacias in the town of Mariquita. Of the 21 riders attempting the climb, we were the first group to arrive and so we decided to look for the most comfortable and cool room.

Sadly, it was impossible to find both conditions in the one room, so we picked a room that was probably too small for three people plus bicycles but it was good enough for what we needed. In the end we only paid AUD$30 per person per night including breakfast.

After unpacking, we gave the bikes a quick once-over with my secret formula: baby wipes, a great suggestion from CyclingTips!

For dinner at the hotel we ordered a special dish that was not included on the menu. We simply asked for pasta without any fat, butter or oil or any sauce. To that the chefs added shredded chicken, and we also had a salad, bread with jam and orange juice.

Climbing Alto de Letras (Image: Altimetrias de Colombia).

At 5:30am our breakfast was served and included: pasta (same as dinner), scrambled eggs, bread, jam, hot chocolate and pineapple juice. After checking tyre pressure (120PSI — the pavement is good for most of the climb) we were ready to start the ride at 6:30am as planned.

As we walked outside we could see we were in for a cloudy, humid day. The temperature was not too high — about 22°C – but rain was expected throughout.

I didn’t take arm-warmers, a vest or a jacket with me and for the most part I didn’t regret the decision. Then again, a rain jacket for the last 15km, in the rain, would have been good! Apart from my iPhone (for listening to music), my jersey was full of food: biscuits, small cakes, lolleys, protein bars, energy bars and gels.

We started at a relatively slow pace and I was feeling really comfortable. Our goal was to enjoy the ride so we kept the group in one piece, talking and joking through the first two hours.

Some rocks and mud on the road took their toll on the group and two riders found themselves with a flat tyre. This broke the group up with a few people stopping to wait while myself and another rider (Carlos Estrada) continued on.

From that point on — roughly 27km into the ride — it was just Carlos and I riding together. We had found a very good, steady pace and my heart-rate hovered comfortably between 140 and 160BPM … except when we were climbing the many steep ramps of 10%+ gradient.

More views from the Alto de Letras climb (Image: Altimetrias de Colombia).

It started raining properly after about 65km but by that point we were already pretty wet from water flicking up off the road and a few showery patches we’d ridden through. With the rain coming down and the temperature much lower than when we started the ride, it was just like a rainy winter ride in Melbourne!

Eventually, after 4 hours 48 minutes of climbing we reached the top of the epic climb. I’m told that anything under 5 hours isn’t a bad time, anything under 4 hours 30 minutes is great and if you go under 4 hours you might have the makings of a pro cyclist.

Oh, and for any of you that are wondering, the record time for the 80km climb is apparently 2 hours 52 minutes, recorded by Santiago Botero on his way to winning the Vuelta a Colombia in 2007.

The arrival at the top was both exciting and hugely satisfying. But after stopping my Garmin to check time and distance and taking the obligatory photo (see the top of this post) I ran off to get warm and dry. Carlos and I borrowed towels from the restaurant at the top and took off our gloves, shoes and socks. Everything was soaked.

It was very hard to get warm, despite the hot chocolates we drank, and it was more than an hour and a half before my support car arrived at the summit. On the plus side we did get to see each of the riders as they arrived at the top of the mountain, including my mate Barre who took around 6 hours to crown Alto de Letras.

In the end, 17 out of 21 riders finished the climb, with two withdrawing due to mechanical issues and two riders abandoning because of health concerns.

On our way back to Medellin we took a detour via Nevado del Ruiz — a 4,700-metre-high active volcano. The national park staff didn’t let us pass — the volcano is on orange alert — but we did manage to get some photos.

After getting lost in Manizales for about an hour and eating at the Corral — the best burger joint in Colombia — we made our way back home to Medellin. We were all tired from the climb but felt great after our epic adventure.

Profile courtesy of Altimetrias de Colombia. Click for larger view.

Alto de Letras is an extremely long climb and if you’re thinking of trying it, it helps to split it into three main segments. The first 30km segment is hard, but you are fresh and there’s enough oxygen at that altitude that it doesn’t feel harder than it should. The second 30km segment is a little easier but by that point the fatigue is starting to set in. The final 20km segment is the hardest.

Starting at the 59km mark, this final segment sees you riding at over 3,000 metres of altitude. At this height the air is noticeably thinner and the lack of oxygen means you have to word even harder to turn the pedals over. As with any climb, the harder you ride it, the more difficult it becomes. This is especially true when you’re riding at high altitude.

There’s no doubt this is a very challenging climb but, in my opinion, if you’re fit, it’s manageable. It’s just important to find a steady, comfortable rhythm. And in spite of this climb apparently having the biggest elevation gain of any cycling climb on Earth, I don’t think this is the hardest climb I’ve ever done. That honour is reserved for the infamous Mt. Baw Baw.

Obviously Baw Baw is nowhere near as long as Alto de Letras, nor does it have the same altitude gain, but it’s steep enough to kill your legs while providing no real chance to catch your breath in the final 6km of climbing.

I reckon every cyclist in the world should have a go at Alto de Letras. I know I’ll be back!

Have you got a climbing-related cycling story you’d like to share? Maybe you just rode your first mountain on the weekend? Or maybe you’re on holidays in the French Alps, climbing every col in sight. Either way, we’re keen to hear from you. Please get in touch with Matt via email.

But when I did, it was certainly worth the wait.

Marcus (left) and Fletch (right) laying down some pain near the Brisbane Ranges.

Sunday April 22 to Friday April 27

Rather than write a separate entry about each of the six days from Sunday to Friday I thought I’d sum them up in one short phrase: no riding. A combination of rain, early mornings at work, after-work engagements and, to be honest, a little bit of laziness saw me take six full days off the bike. Not ideal.

That said, I did get to a leg-smashing spin class on Tuesday afternoon which had me feeling as if I was about to become reacquainted with my lunch. Sadly, spin-class kilometres don’t count toward Ride Hard to Breathe Easy and so, for the first six days of week four I didn’t add to my total of 904km.

Day 28: Saturday April 28

Ride: Laps of the Brunswick Velodrome and Sharon’s first ride
Distance: 48.2km (952km total)

After six days off the bike I was starting to get pretty antsy. So when the weather fined up on Saturday afternoon I headed out to the B’Drome to get in a few laps. I’d been having a bit of trouble with my saddle being uncomfortable — putting pressure in all the wrong areas — and so I took the trip to the ‘drome as an opportunity to make some adjustments and test them as I went.

Rather than go for a single-lap PB I thought I’d see how quickly I could do five laps (roughly 1.6km). I managed 2 minutes 33 seconds on my first try. The second time around I was keen to go under 2 minutes 30 seconds (30 seconds per lap) and I did, posting a time of 2 minutes 27 seconds.

This was an average speed of around 39km/h and I reckon I can go faster than that without too many problems. I’d be interested to see how some of the Equipo Tranquilo boys go with that challenge, Fletch, Douggie and the Donvale Demon in particular.

After getting back home my partner Sharon and I headed out for a quick ride down the local bike track. This was significant because it was Sharon’s first bike ride since she was a kid. We took it nice and slow and Sharon did a great job. It was only a very short ride — 8km — but Sharon seemed to enjoy it. Hopefully we’ll be able to ride together more often.

Day 29: Sunday April 29

Ride: Brisbane Ranges loop, including Balliang, Meredith and Anakie
Distance: 102km (1,054km total)

The start of the Glenmore Ride climb, made (in)famous by the Hell of the West.

I’d always wanted to ride in the Brisbane Ranges west of Melbourne so when Marcus Nyeholt, a mate from Twitter with whom I’d ridden a couple of times before, said he was heading out there, I was keen to join him.

We were supposed to have a fairly large group for the day — Marcus, myself, the Demon, Brendan, Fletch, Douggie and Marcus’ mate Chris. But in the end it was just four of us that made the drive out to Balliang East: Marcus, Fletch, Douggie and myself.

After a few introductions we set off, following, more or less, the route from the Hell of the West a week earlier. All four of us had been keen to ride in the race but had missed out due to entries selling out within a day or so. So, without the pressure of race conditions, we decided to try out some of the roads ridden during the race.

At least you get plenty of warning.

The ride started with a cruisy 20-odd kilometres along some basically flat roads as we approached the biggest obstacle we would face all day: the Glenmore Road climb. It’s only 1km long but, thanks partly to Shane Miller’s terrific account of Hell of the West, we knew it was going to hurt. Not surprising when you consider it rises at an average of 13% with several ramps above 20%.

I was pretty keen to have a good hard crack at the climb and see where my legs were at. As soon as we started to climb I put my head down and went as hard as I could manage. For most of the climb my heartrate hovered about 190BPM and on several occasions it peaked at 196BPM — the highest I’ve ever seen. And while my heartrate was high and I was doing everything I could to get enough oxygen on board, my legs felt strong.

One of the hardest parts about climbing a road that steep is the act of simply keeping the front wheel on the ground. It seemed as if my front tyre was lifting a centimetre or two off the ground with every pedal stroke. Loose gravel on the road didn’t help with traction either.

I crested the hill in 5 minutes 26 seconds, putting me in the top 30 out of roughly 110 on Strava. Marcus, Fletch and Douggie joined me a short time later and we pushed on.

At the end of Glenmore Road we turned left on to Geelong-Ballan Road and found ourselves riding into a strong headwind. Those next few kilometres were pretty challenging as we tried to keep up a good tempo while fighting against the breeze.

Douggie (left) and Fletch (right) tapping it out.

One of the things that stands out about the Brisbane Ranges is the steepness of the climbs. There don’t seem to be many long, gentle climbs, rather it’s all about short, sharp rises. We faced one of these climbs as we neared Meredith, shortly after enjoying a nice fast descent. That’s the other thing about the Brisbane Ranges — no free descents. If you’ve just been descending, chances are you’ll be climbing straight back up in no time.

We stopped in Meredith to fuel up on such healthy options as spring rolls, dim sims and chicko rolls. Much was made of Douggie’s decision to down an epic-looking milkshake, having been sucked in by a “Sale! Milkshakes $3.50!” sign on the front door of the general store. Some speculated that ingesting such a large volume of milk mid-ride would have had Douggie painting the pavement in no time, but to his credit he managed to keep it all down.

After leaving Meredith we headed south east toward Steiglitz. This was probably the most enjoyable part of the ride (apart from the Glenmore Road climb) thanks to some quiet, narrow roads and some challenging little climbs. We faced several steep descents followed by sharp climbs with the most challenging being the De Motts Road climb. It might have only been a kilometre long (if that) but the average gradient of 10%+ certainly didn’t tickle.

With Douggie's bike out of action, it was just Marcus (left), Fletch (right) and I for the last 35km.

As Marcus, Fletch and I reached the top of the climb we turned around to see if Douggie was far behind but he was nowhere to be seen. Sure enough Fletch’s phone rang and it was Douggie. He was climbing the steep pinch when he broke a spoke on his back wheel, meaning he had to walk his bike up the hill to meet us. More worryingly, we were still 30km (at least) from the car and Douggie’s bike was unrideable.

He decided to call a taxi to take him back to Balliang East and so Marcus, Fletch and I continued on, getting to Anakie and turning left up toward Balliang. Straight out of Anakie the road starts climbing and rather than heading back toward the car we took the advice of David Blom who’d emailed me earlier in the week with a suggestion.

He recommended following the Geelong-Ballan Road to take in the 3.8km climb that features in the Tour of Geelong. Now I’d like to tell myself that I was worn out from my hard effort on the Glenmore Road climb earlier in the day and that’s why Marcus and Fletch smashed me. The truth is, they’re probably both just stronger than me and I wasn’t able to keep up on the climb.

At the top we turned around, came back down and took a left turn back toward the car. It was a cruisy, flat 23km from there to Balliang East and yet I really struggled to keep up. Fletch had said to me not long before that I was looking far stronger on the flats but he might have jumped the gun. On several occassions I found myself hanging off the back, unable to keep up with the cracking pace being set by Marcus and Fletch.

Hanging on for dear life as Marcus and Fletch set a cracking pace.

On the final stretch of the ride we can across Douggie who had been dropped off at the car and changed his back wheel. We swept him up and rode back to the car to complete the ride. I left Balliang East feeling pretty smashed, not used to the high tempo being set by the other guys. I’ve got a lot of work to do to get to their level in the flatlands, that’s for sure.

An otherwise terrific ride was marred slightly by growing concern about my uncomfortable saddle. Despite a range of tweaks and adjustments I just can’t seem to stay comfortable and the resultant numbness is very troubling. It’s even more troubling given that it’s started happening out of nowhere, after several years of cycling.

Day 30: Monday April 30

Ride: To and from work, via physio
Distance: 19km (1.073km total)

With one day to go and 1,054km complete I’d thought about pushing for the 1,100km mark. In the end laziness and a lack of daylight won out. I rode straight to work for an early morning meeting and on the way home I rode to physio in East Melbourne and straight home from there.

It would seem that my ITB is definitely on the mend but that I’ve still got work to do in strengthening up my weak glutes. When I spoke to my physio about the uncomfortable saddle issue he suggested I head to Beasley Cycles in Footscray to get fitted for a Specialized cut-out saddle.

I think I’ll do that this weekend as it’s seriously diminshing my enjoyment on the bike. I don’t know if being worried about it is making it seem worse than it is, but I’m not going to hang around to find out.

Ride Hard to Breathe Easy complete!

And that’s it. April was all about riding 800km in order to support Ride Hard to Breathe Easy in their endeavours to raise awareness about lung cancer. In the end I covered 1,073km — an average of roughly 265km a week — and, hopefully, introduced a few people to this great cause.

If you get a couple of minutes, it’s worth checking out some of the amazing numbers on the Strava challenge’s overall leaderboard. Nearly 4,900 riders took part in the challenge and, together, we covered more than 3.8 million kilometres — a wonderful effort and one that was well in excess of the organisers’ expectations.

I’ve mentioned him a couple of times in the past few weeks but credit must again go to Guido Gadomsky from Perth who clocked up the most kilometres for the month. In 40 rides over 30 days Guido clocked up an astonishing 4,042km — more than 1,000km a week and more than five times the target distance. His longest ride? A lazy 358km spin up and down the Kwinana Highway south of Perth. Incredible.

Thanks to Ride Hard to Breathe Easy and Strava for putting on this terrific challenge and well done to everyone that competed. It was a great month’s riding and a satisfying way for me, personally, to keep my fitness up post-3-Peaks.

Now I just need something else to focus on …

If you’d like to stay up to date with the fantastic work being done by Ride Hard to Breathe Easy please visit their website.

Previous instalments:

• Ride Hard to Breathe Easy: week three
• Ride Hard to Breathe Easy: week two
• Ride Hard to Breathe Easy: week one
• Ride Hard to Breathe Easy: prologue

Aaron at Serpentine Dam (Image courtesy of Aaron Twigg).

I’ve been back riding bikes for about four years now after a long siesta. I am by no means a hill climber and I have to train harder than some just to keep up in the hills. Even then I get dropped with little effort. I know I will never be the fastest in the hills, but I get in a rhythm and keep plugging away. Importantly, I enjoy every moment on the bike!

The idea to ride 5 Dams first came up after a ride with a fellow Look Bike Club member, Howard, in Perth back in February 2010. He briefly mentioned 5 Dams while he guided me through a tough 100km in the hills of Perth. The seed was planted.

The ride is organised by Bicycling WA (BWA) and comprises two options: 3 Dams covering 148km or 5 Dams covering 238km. Both options have a list of categorised climbs with the 5 Dams option including two category 3 climbs, two category 4 climbs and five category 5 climbs. All of these climbs add up to more than 2,500 vertical metres of climbing.

That might not sound a lot to you hill junkies out there, but for me, a non-climber, it’s a lot!

Training in Bunbury (Image courtesy of Aaron Twigg).

Luckily for me, BWA requires you to ride 5 Dams with a partner. So I had to convince someone to follow me to Perth and share the experience.

I managed to convince my friend Andy to make the trip west with me and from then on the trip became a reality. We registered and started training for the biggest ride we had ever attempted.

The hills I had previously ridden in Perth had given me an idea of the challenge ahead and I knew I would have to really plan my preparation. With the Dandenongs not far away I had a nearby training ground to help build the strength required to climb over such a long distance.

A few days in Dromana prior to New Years Eve 2011 kicked off my preparation. Over the next three months I slowly built up my training with the majority of my time spent in the hills riding roads like The 1 in 20, the Mt. Dandenong Tourist Road, Ridge Road, Perrins Creek Road and, of course, The Wall.

Andy lives out near Geelong so there were a few days spent in the hills around Anakie including a 130km return trip to Lorne.

The Otway Classic was the final springboard for my training. From there it was on to longer rides with more and more climbing and several back-to-back centuries including a weekend with 240km and over 4,000 vertical metres  of climbing!

I have learnt from previous training that if I can back up the next day and do it all again I am on my way to the fitness level needed to complete a ride like 5 Dams. I left Melbourne with 2,200km and 3,300 vertical metres of climbing in my legs and the lowest average heartrate I had had for a while.

Views of the Swan River the day before 5 Dams (Image courtesy of Aaron Twigg).

Once In Perth I stayed with my dad in Bunbury and continued my training with the South West Cycling Club (SWCC). This is an awesome club that has the best training rides I have ever come across. They are extremely well organised, professionally run and attended by a great bunch of people. I took the advice given on the BWA website recommending short and hard rides in the final week. SWCC catered for that perfectly!

The day before the ride was a busy one with a 60km guided ride around the Swan River with Howard, including a ride-by of the 5 Dams start line. This was followed by pre-registration at BWA which unfortunately ended in disappointment, when they informed us our jerseys had accidentally been given away to someone else. Worse, there were no spares. Our Around the Bay in a Day jerseys would have to do!

The night before the ride we each had a big bowl of pasta for dinner, before making final preparations including a weather check: sunny and 28° with a south-westerly in the afternoon. Terrific!

We laid out our clothes and gels, filled our bottles and Andy stuck the ride directions on his top tube so we didn’t get lost. Finally it was time to hit the hay with our alarms set for 4:45am.

I was awake before my alarm went off – this was it! We got out of bed, got dressed, got on our bikes and rolled over to the start. We arrived a bit early allowing us time to chat to a few people that had done the ride before. A bit of local knowledge always helps and it was here we were warned about the 15km westward stretch toward the end of the ride that takes you across to the freeway.

The riders who had completed the event before said if we were in a group at that point, stick with them as the south-westerly will really take its toll on the solo rider.

At 6:15am we got underway and a few big groups headed off into the 23km-long, flat warm up before the first and longest climb of the day – a little under 7km. At the bottom of that climb we each settled into our own rhythm. I climbed comfortably and caught some of the riders that passed us earlier in the day.

The first dam was Mundaring Weir. With our passports stamped, we climbed the 8% gradient out of the checkpoint full of confidence. After all, we had an average speed of 27km/h — well above our expectations. That confidence took a bit of a dent when a few people cruised past on single-speed flat-bar bikes, never to be seen again.

The trip across to Churchman Brook Dam was familiar territory as I had ridden it the opposite way back in 2010. It was definitely easier this way with some awesome views across the valley and some fun, high-speed descending. But I had made a pact with Andy to use the descents as a chance to recover and not tire the legs out. I did my best to hold back.

The climb into Churchman Brook was over 10% with the checkpoint half-way up the climb. From there it was more climbing out to the Albany Highway followed by a long, fast descent,  and another tough climb (about 13%) to the checkpoint at Wungong Dam for lunch.

Three down, two to go.

Andy at Wungong Dam -- lunch time! (Image courtesy of Aaron Twigg).

We fuelled up with a wrap or two, a few pieces of fruit cake and a few gels before refilling our bottles for the third time that day. We then climbed out of the checkpoint and headed for the fourth stop: Canning Dam.

By this time we were beginning to get a sense of what the ride was all about. With another long descent and another nasty climb up to the dam wall we felt like yo-yos. With another stamp in our passports, we consulted Andy’s top tube for the distance and directions to Serpentine Dam.

We made sure our bottles were full for the 53km journey to the next checkpoint before rolling out. The long descent into Canning meant a long climb out and again the gradient crept above 12% for at least a kilometre.

At the top of the climb we took a left on to the Albany Highway and on toward Serpentine Dam; the fifth and final dam and our second-last checkpoint.

The trip to Serpentine was a long, hot stretch of continuous undulations which seemed to hurt more than usual. But we had managed to bring the average up again – to around 24.5km/h – by the time we’d arrived at the checkpoint.

Having reached the final dam, we decided to take an extended break. We even took our shoes off to cool our feet as the temperature was starting to climb. Andy consulted his top tube as I filled my bottles. He informed me that the climb out of Serpentine was the last major climb of the day — yay — and there was a steep descent not far up the road to finish our time in the hills.

Andy (left) and Aaron (right) crossing the Canning Dam wall. (Image courtesy of Aaron Twigg).

After finishing the final climb out of the Serpentine Dam, I was really looking forward to making the most of the steep descent down Kingsbury Drive. And I did, easily reaching speeds of 70km/h+ on the way down to the South West Highway. As we reached the highway the cycling gods shined on us, and we soon joined another pair of riders, just as the locals had advised at the start of the ride.

After a quick chat and introductions we decided to stick together for the windy trip across to the freeway, and windy it was. We worked well together sharing the load into the south-westerly headwind and we all arrived at the final checkpoint feeling better than expected.

After getting the final stamp in our passports we kept the group together for the final leg along the bike path to Perth. Luckily for us, our group contained some Perth locals which kept us from getting lost at some tricky, unsigned diversions thanks to path maintenance.

Heading back to the hotel after the ride (Image courtesy of Aaron Twigg).

The trip home was quite fast with a tailwind and an average speed of more than 28km/h for the last 30km or so. This last section saw our overall average speed creep up to 25.7km/h for the day.

We crossed the line in 9 hours 15 minutes riding time, some two and a half hours behind the first finishers. More importantly we were 45 minutes under Andy’s estimate and an hour and 15 minutes below mine. I guess I need to learn to back myself!

Overall it was a great day — we’d covered 238km, climbed more than 2,500 vertical metres and visited five dams in the Perth hill. BWA have a bit of work to do to get this ride up and running to the standards we had expected after rides like Around the Bay in a Day and most other rides we have here in Melbourne. But I’m sure they will get there and in only the third running of the event they are well on their way!

We had a great day and achieved our goal with plenty of room to spare. I may go back in a few years to do it all again but for now it’s time for a new challenge and some bigger hills.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank Andy for heading west and taking on the 5 Dams with me, and sharing what turned out to be a great day on the bike! Thanks Andy!

Have you got a climbing-related cycling story you’d like to share? We’d like to hear from you. Just send an email to Matt with the details.

I thought I’d put together a quick behind-the-scenes post to give you all a bit of insight as to how the program came about and how the day of recording unfolded.

It all started with a couple of beverages at the Wesley Anne bar in Northcote.Toward the end of the conversation Matt suggested we should pitch a story to Off Track about this website and about climbing more generally. I thought it was a great suggestion and we decided to put together a couple of ideas and reconvene before sending the proposal off to Radio National.

The very next morning, out of nowhere, I got a tweet from Joel Werner, the presenter of Off Track, asking if I’d be interested in putting something together for the show. I explained the strange coincidence to Joel and we agreed that Matt and I would put together a pitch.

The next week, Matt sent over his ideas to Joel and we got the green light: time to start recording.

The premise was simple: get Matt, a non-cyclist, to climb a hill in order to get a feel for it. He would interview me about climbing at the site before and after the climb and then we’d record some background audio. I think Matt was a little apprehensive about the climb and fair enough too: he’s only done a bit of cycling in the last few years and I suspect he sees hill-climbing as more of an inconvenience than a pleasure.

He was off like a rocket, but I eventually caught him.

So on an overcast Saturday morning in late March Matt and I drove out to The Basin to tackle what is probably the most well-known climb in the vicinity of Melbourne: the 1 in 20.

After a quick pre-ride interview in the park near the Basin shops, we saddled up and headed over to the start line and got stuck into the 6.8km climb. To my great surprise, Matt took off like a rocket, sitting comfortably on about 25km/h as he powered toward the first bend. It took me a couple hundred metres to reel him in and by that time Matt was spent. He’d gone out way too hard and was already paying the price.

After roughly 2km Matt pulled off to the side of the road for a quick breather and a drink. With what must have been wishful thinking Matt asked whether we’d reached the halfway point yet. I tried to let him down gently, softening the blow with promise of the glorious false-flat a few kays up the road.

We stopped a number of times on the way up and after each rest-stop Matt would disappear up the road in a flurry of pedal strokes before realising, once again, he’d gone out too hard.

Matt taking a break.

It took us a little under 40 minutes including rest stops, but we eventually got to the top. We pulled into the gravel carpark at the top of the climb and took a seat on some wooden logs. Matt pulled out his recorder and interviewed me about the appeal of cycling up hills (I don’t think he enjoyed it too much!) and about the origins of the site.

In the program I mention that the website started as a university assignment, which is totally true. What I didn’t mention is that my tutor for that particular subject at La Trobe University was none other than the gentleman interviewing me.

Matt works in the Media and Communications department at La Trobe (I did too for a while) and it’s actually his job to record, edit and publish podcasts, including for the university’s iTunesU page. (If you’ve got some spare time, go and take a listen; Matt does a great job.)

So when the regular tutor for my journalism subject was unavailable to teach at the start of the course, Matt was called in to help out. He actually oversaw the very first incarnation of this site. I’m not sure if he even remembers that, but I certainly do.

I also remember Matt showing us how to use WordPress (the platform this site is built on) by creating ilovelionelrichie.wordpress.com (now sadly defunct), much to the amusement of my fellow students and I.

After recording our finish-line interview I spent a few minutes riding up and down the final 200m of the climb with a lapel microphone attached to my rear wheel’s quick-release lever, picking up bike and road noise for the show.

We then rode back down the hill, packed up the bikes and drove back toward the city, the  recording complete in under two hours.

Over the next week or so Matt edited the piece together, cutting out the many ums and aahs I’m sure I uttered and generally getting it ready for broadcast. I think it turned out really well, which is not surprising given Matt produces podcasts for a living and worked in radio for a number of years.

From my point of view it was good fun to be part of the program and to be able to talk about the site and my passion for climbing. That story I mention in the program about climbing Mt. Buffalo for the first time is one of my very fondest memories, cycling or otherwise.

I remember Dad asking me at the time if I was sure I really wanted to do it and when I said I was, he took the time to make sure I was safe, driving just ahead or just behind me the whole way up. Incidentally, Brendan was on that ride too but he didn’t quite make it to the top, calling it a day after 8km. Still a monster effort giving he was, what, 13 at the time?

Almost there!

And while I think of it, here’s a quick correction. In the program I mention that A-grade riders climb the 1 in 20 in about ’14 or 14 and a half minutes’. I now realise I was overestimating slightly. There are a bunch of A-graders who have broken 14 minutes, including Jason Spencer, who managed a staggering time of 13 minutes 20 seconds up there just a few weeks ago. That’s an average speed above 30km/h — truly scary.

So, if you haven’t yet listened to the program, please tune in to Radio National at 2pm today or download the podcast from the Off Track website.

And do let me know what you think, good, bad or otherwise. Someone on Facebook (thanks Mariano!) mentioned he’d listen to a Climbing Cyclist podcast (‘with the Demon as your sidekick’) if we made one — what do you reckon? Would you listen to a climbing-related podcast?

Thanks very much for reading and thanks too to those of you that sent over kind words about the Off Track piece. If you haven’t already, come and follow The Climbing Cyclist over on Twitter, come and ‘like’ us over at Facebook and, of course, you’re always welcome to leave a comment below.

Douggie (right) and Brendan (left) between Strathewen and Hurstbridge.

After two weeks of the Ride Hard to Breathe Easy Challenge on Strava I’d amassed more than 600km. I was well ahead of schedule and, at that point, only injury or other mishap could have prevented me from reaching the 800km target.

Now, after three weeks, I’ve completed the challenge, having covered more than 900km. But I’m not stopping there. I’ve got just over a week to see how many more kays I can do. In the meantime, here’s how week three unfolded:

Day 15: Sunday April 15

Having raced the day before and covered a total of 150km for the day, I was keen to spend Sunday recovering. I did just that, resting up for the week ahead.

Day 16: Monday April 16

Ride: To work (via Princes Park) and home (via Brunswick Velodrome)
Distance: 54km (659km total)

Sunset at the Brunswick Velodrome.

An early start at work meant I couldn’t get in many kays before getting to the office but I did manage a couple of laps of Princes Park.

The Donvale Demon and I left the office early (we work together here) and had a rolling meeting, spinning slowly around the Brunswick Velodrome as we chatted about work. It was a great way to kill two birds with one stone — we got to discuss work issues while also clocking up some kays for Ride Hard to Breathe Easy.

I set a new personal-best time on the velodrome too: 23.8 seconds for a lap. Strava interpreted this as 23 seconds though, giving me an (overestimated) average speed of 51.7km/h and landing me in the top ten.

Day 17: Tuesday April 17

Ride: To and from work
Distance: 17km (676km total)

Not much to write about here. Straight to work and straight home.

Day 18: Wednesday April 18

Ride: To work (via the B-Drome) and home (via a B-Drome sesh with the ET lads)
Distance: 88km (764km total)

Sunrise at the Brunswick Velodrome.

Where Tuesday had been lazy and boring, Wednesday was anything but. The Demon and I met at (yep, you guessed it) the Brunswick Velodrome before work and spent some time riding tempo, taking turns at the front. We kept the pace above 33km/h for quite a while, eating up the kays and giving ourselves a fair workout in the early-morning frost.

After work it was back to the B-Drome, this time to meet with the lads from Team Equipo Tranquilo. Fletch and Douggie had been at the track the previous Wednesday to do some laps with the lights on. When I arrived just before 6pm the light was fading fast and the lights weren’t emitting so much as a flicker of illumination.

Fletch and Adrian rocked up at around 6.45pm and by that point it was virtually pitch dark — far from ideal conditions for cycling. But then, just as we were about to call it a day, the lights roared into life and the velodrome was lit up beautifully. It was just on 7pm and a local soccer team had paid to have the lights on (despite a Brunswick Cycling Club official telling Douggie on the phone, in no uncertain terms, there was no way the general public could pay for the lights to be turned on).

A bunch of us rolled around the track, timing each other, having short races and doing some tempo work toward the end. I managed to take .3 of a second off my best: a new best lap of 23.5 seconds.

By the time I got home (at about 9pm) I was knackered. I’d ridden about 90km for the day on top of a full day’s work and I was well and truly ready for bed.

Day 19: Thursday April 19

Ride: To work and home (via Yarra Boulevard)
Distance: 30km (794km total)

The fading light as seen from the Yarra Boulevard crit track.

After two longish rides the day before I was feeling pretty sluggish on Thursday. I rode straight to work in the morning and had no real desire to head out for a longer ride in the evening.

But later in the day Brendan messaged and said he was rolling around Yarra Boulevard racking up some kays. I rolled out to meet him and in the dwindling daylight, we did a couple of laps of the crit circuit at the Johnston Street end of the ‘Vard  (which is just a little tougher than the Brunswick Velodrome!) before riding up to Walmer Street and back down to Chandler Highway.

Having ridden in the dark along the ‘Vard a few weeks earlier neither of us were all that keen to press on and so we headed home after a half lap. I wasn’t too disappointed — I was still feeling sluggish from the big day on Wednesday and I was keen to get home and take it easy.

Day 20: Friday April 20

With rain around in the morning I decided not to ride to work on Friday and in the process I stranded myself six kilometres short of the 800km target going into the weekend. The Demon wasn’t fazed by the weather and leap-frogged me to finish the Ride Hard to Breathe Easy Challenge a day before I did. Chapeau Demon!

Day 21: Saturday April 21

Ride: Out and back(ish) including Eltham, Hurstbridge, Strathewen and Arthurs Creek
Distance: 110km (904km total!)

Brendan descending toward Strathewen.

What a wonderful way to complete the Ride Hard to Breathe Easy challenge — 110km on some of the best roads around Melbourne in perfect weather.

Early discussions suggested we might have had a large group for this ride but in the end it was just Brendan, Douggie and I. I was keen to revisit some of the roads I used to ride frequently when I was living in Eltham and so we rolled out along Heidelberg Road and Lower Plenty Road.

Before getting to Eltham we took a right turn on to the popular Mt. Pleasant Road. It’s a remarkable little road and one that I’d highly recommend checking out. It’s so close to Eltham and yet, within minutes, you are in what appears to be a rural landscape. The road also features a couple of challenging little climbs and a handful of tasty descents too.

We took a left at Warrandyte-Research Road and a right at the roundabout. The climb out of Research toward Kangaroo Ground is one of my favourites and one that I used to have a crack at whenever I had a chance. On Saturday I gave it a fair old shake, taking more than a minute off my previous best. I ended up with a time of 5 minutes and 4 seconds, placing me 13th out of 525 riders on Strava. I’ll take that any day of the week.

Brendan making the steep rises of Mt. Pleasant Road look easy.

We battled our way through the familiar and ever-painful rollers to Kangaroo Ground before taking Flat Rock Road toward Hurstbridge. It’s a road I’d heard a bit about but never ridden and one that I’ll definitely be heading back to at some point. It’s a beautiful narrow road with some great valley views, very little traffic and a wonderful descent as you near Hurstbridge.

We followed the road toward Cottles Bridge before heading out toward Strathewen. I’d heard a couple of people talk about riding out there but, again, it was a road I’d never experienced. The lack of traffic meant we could ride three abreast and chat while chewing up the kays.

As far as we could tell though, Strathewen isn’t much more than a couple of rural properties, a bus stop and a school and so we turned around and headed back out. If we missed something, please let me know in the comments below!

On the way back to Hurstbridge we decided to go via Arthurs Creek and Nutfield and wow, what a stunning part of the world. Virtually empty roads, great scenery, nice little rollers … couldn’t ask for more really. I know I’ll be heading out that way again soon.

We stopped at Hurstbridge for a bite to eat before rolling out. We’d had a quick discussion about which way to go home: up the Flat Rock Road climb or the easy way, out to Diamond Creek and back along Plenty Road. With no-one having strong objections to the climb, we retraced our steps and headed out to Flat Rock Road.

I musn’t have been paying much attention on the descent earlier in the day as the climb seemed longer and steeper than I remembered. But before too long it was over and we were back on the Eltham-St. Andrews Road. From there it was up and over the rollers back to Eltham and then up and over the rollers back to the city.

All in all it was a wonderful day’s riding. Thanks to Brendan and Douggie for being part of it. Brendan looked super-strong as always (despite having done less riding of late) and Douggie was super-impressive for a guy who’s only ridden twice in the past month or so. I shudder to think how strong he’ll be once he starts to ramp up his training!

Douggie tearing up another descent.

And with that, I’ve reached my target of 800km for the Ride Hard to Breathe Easy challenge. I’ve managed to average more than 300km a week which I find somewhat surprising. If I can do 300km this week I will have amassed 1,200km in April — far more than I would have expected.

But before I get too self-congratulatory, it’s worth noting that the challenge’s leader, Guido Gadomsky, has racked up a lazy 3,144km so far this month. I was excited about doing 1,000km+ in a month; this guy’s doing 1,000km+ a week! Crazy.

And while we’re on the subject of crazy numbers, more than 4,400 people have now entered the challenge, notching up more than 2.5 million kilometres between us. A wonderful effort and one that’s well in excess of what the organisers were planning (and hoping) for. Well done to you all!

And finally, here’s a bit of shameless self-promotion. My good mate Matt Smith and I made a short piece for ABC Radio National’s Off Track about climbing. I’m planning on writing a behind-the-scenes post about it in the next day or so, but in the meantime, head over to the Off Track page, take a listen and let me know what you think.

If you haven’t already joined the Ride Hard to Breathe Easy challenge on Strava, get on it! It’s free to enter and all you need is a smartphone with the Strava app or a compatible Garmin device.

Previous instalments:

• Ride Hard to Breathe Easy: week two
• Ride Hard to Breathe Easy: week one
• Ride Hard to Breathe Easy: prologue

In this guest post, Jason Spencer from Team Budget Forklifts describes his preparation for last Sunday’s Baw Baw Classic and explains how the day unfolded, landing him with a podium finish. Oh, and if you feel like you’ve seen the name ‘Jason Spencer’ before, you probably have; he’s the guy who seemingly has every Strava KOM in Victoria.

Jason (in yellow and black) competing in the Australian National Road Race Championships in January.

The 2012 Baw Baw Classic was my fifth attempt at the race. The first time I raced was in 2008 when I lined up in C grade. In 2009, 2010 and 2011 I raced A grade, achieving better results every year.

In the lead-up to this year’s race I was feeling reasonably confident of a good result. My training had been going well and I had completed a couple of rides earlier in the week that I was happy with. I got a PB at the Kew Boulevard TT and a PB by 1.5 minutes up the 1 in 20 [ed: just a casual time of 13 minutes 20 seconds!].

I also had the help of a very strong team for the first time, as I’m now riding for Team Budget Forklifts. We had five riders in the race: Mark O’Brien (Melbourne), Blair Windsor (Bathurst), myself as well as Luke Ockerby and Peter Loft who both made the trip from Tasmania specifically for the race.

We went into the race knowing we would have a big battle ahead of us with a number of very strong riders from the Search2retain, Genesys Wealth Advisers, African Safari and Drapac Porsche teams. We also had a number of strong Institute of Sport riders to contend with, particularly from South Australia and Victoria.

All up there was a field of 77 riders in A grade with a number of noted climbers that could potentially win the race. The two biggest threats I saw before the start were both from Genesys: two-time Baw Baw Classic winner Nathan Earle and 2011 U23 Australian Champion Ben Dyball. Genesys Wealth Advisers had a strong team of nine riders on the start list against our five.

Our team went into the race with a plan to deliver myself and Mark O’Brien to the final climb in a good position. But as the race went on this seemed to become harder and harder with Genesys holding an advantage in strength and numbers.

Jason riding in the Road Race Nationals in January.

Roughly 25km into the race a break of eight riders went clear including Robbie Hucker (Torq – current U23 Australian MTB champion), Blake Hose (Genesys) Blair Windsor (Budget Forklifts), Luke Fetch (Search2retain), Fergus Sully (Bike Gallery), Stuart Grimsey (Drapac-Porsche) and a couple of others. This proved to be an extremely dangerous break, and knowing the great form Blake Hose had shown at the National Championships in January our team decided it wasn’t a breakaway we were prepared to let go.

The first 50km were very hard and it certainly took the spring out of the legs with lots of attacking riding. But the Baw Baw Classic doesn’t truly start until Vespers Hill which climbs out of Noojee.

It’s a very steep climb and one which usually leaves around 10-20 riders left to contest the race. This year the pace seemed particularly tough up Vespers, with Genesys setting a vicious pace and using up riders on the early slopes of the climb. At the top there were just under 20 riders from the peloton left with another eight riders still up the road in the break.

Shortly after Vespers the Genesys team boss announced that Blake Hose was away solo from the breakaway. And while this was apparently never true, it meant Genesys were unlikely to help chase down the break.

Jason winning the Stratford-Dargo KOM in November 2011 (Image: Marissa Farrell)

There were no other teams with numbers left and Mark and myself were left in a tricky situation. The pace slowed on the following climb and then the attacks started. I was lucky enough to go with the right move and we had a group of four, three of which were happy to work together. So Matthew Clark (Wangaratta; Mt Buller road race winner), Phillip Mundy (South Australian Institute of Sport) and I worked together through the twisty, undulating terrain until the base of Mt. Baw Baw while Nathan Earle (Genesys) scored a free ride.

I tried to force the pace on the final descent from Tanjil Bren, opening up a gap on Matt and Phil and forcing Nathan chase for a bit at the base. I tried to convince Nathan to work with me but again he declined, so I chose to sit up and wait for the other two guys.

As we started the final 6.7km climb — which averages a gruelling 11.3% — we made our first sighting of the four remaining riders from the day-long breakaway.

Around 1km into the climb we still had seven riders together and from that point the group slowly whittled away. With just under 5km remaining, the road flattened out briefly and Nathan Earle put in a very hard attack at the exact point he had done two years earlier when he last won the race.

Nobody responded and he rode away to claim a convincing win by 1 minute and 32 seconds. For the remainder of the race Blake Hose and I rode up the hill neck and neck. Almost nothing could separate us as we each tried to dislodge one another in a battle of who could suffer the most.

The attacks started in the final 2km. Even after the 20%+ ramps on the climb neither of us were able to crack the other and so it ended up in a head-to-head sprint to the line. Blake got the better of me as my legs had nothing left to give, beginning to cramp in the sprint. Third place for me — my best result so far.

No matter how many times I ride up Mt Baw Baw it doesn’t get any easier. It feels slow and painful no matter how much training I do but it’s a race I will always come back to and a climb I will always have a lot of respect for.

Regardless of whether you have hopes of a high finish in A grade or just want to finish, it’s a seriously tough race and everyone shares the same pain up the steep slopes of the brutal final climb.

Click here to see Jason’s (phenomenal) Strava data from the Mt. Baw Baw Classic. Full results from all grades, men and women, can be found here.

While GreenEDGE's Mitch Docker was the star attraction, some of us were just finding our feet.

In the four or five years since I started riding a road bike I’ve never really been interested in racing. I’ve been more focused on getting fit while training for and completing challenge rides like the Around the Bay in Day or the 3 Peaks Challenge.

But a few months ago I started thinking I wouldn’t mind having a bit of a go at this racing caper. Why not do something with the fitness I’d developed for 3 Peaks? These thoughts became more frequent as Fletch and Douggie started getting a few crits under their belt — including a one-two in their first race — and as 3 Peaks drifted further into the past.

So when Fletch sent me an email last week about the opening round of the Northern Combine winter road season I decided it was time to have a go. Short, fast crits don’t really suit the sort of riding I’ve been doing in the past few years — endurance rides with plenty of climbing — but a road race, I figured, would be more my style.

The course we were supposed to be racing on.

Along with the Donvale Demon I signed up for E-grade in the Jack McDonough Memorial Scratch Race, not really knowing what to expect. A lot of people, in person and online, said the decision to race E was a silly one and that I should have been focused on D-grade, if not higher. Allow me to share a couple of choice tweets.

@dahondude thought the Demon and I were going to steal the show:

@climbingcyclist @DonvaleDemon E grade??...you bandits!

April 13, 2012 1:51 pm via EchofonReplyRetweetFavorite

@dahondude

Dahondude

@quamen was slightly more direct:

@climbingcyclist sandbagger

April 13, 2012 5:09 pm via Tweetbot for iOSReplyRetweetFavorite

@quamen

Gareth Townsend

And @MrDanielStrauss was most flattering with his extreme over-estimation of my ability:

@climbingcyclist E? You should be up there in A with Docker!

April 13, 2012 5:22 pm via Twitter for iPhoneReplyRetweetFavorite

@MrDanielStrauss

Daniel Strauss

The Demon and I spent several hours researching the course (see map below), sussing out the profile and getting acquainted with the main climb. But even still, either of us really knew what to expect from the race. A few people had suggested we’d be racing against ‘kids and old women’ but once the start list was published it became clear it wouldn’t be that easy.

I recognised a few of the names from Twitter and Strava and a bit of research uncovered some basic info about our opponents. It seemed we were up against quite a few riders with race experience, including some with D-grade and above races under their belt.

We were taking the whole thing very seriously. We spoke about our strategy for the course.

Take it easy over the first two laps. Suss out the strongest riders. Mark any moves they made. Ride for each other. Attack on the last climb. Share the prize money if it came to that …

All grades amassed for the rider briefing.

So on Saturday morning the Demon drove us up to Kyneton. After a quick warm-up and a rider briefing, A-grade through D-grade headed off to the start of the Kyneton-Pastoria loop we’d read so much about.

Not us E-graders though. We stayed back at the Kyneton Saleyards and listened to a marshall explain the plan. Turns out we weren’t riding the Pastoria loop — a decision that had been made during the week by the race officials but not communicated to anyone until five minutes before the start. A real kick in the guts.

Instead we’d be riding an out-and-back course in the other direction. A course that was less than 50km long, compared with the 64km of the Pastoria loop we were scheduled to ride.

That less-than-50km-long course quickly became 24km-long when it was announced we’d by riding as a bunch for the first half of the ‘race’, practising our rolling turns.

Now I’m all for giving people a safe introduction to racing — it was my first race after all — but to turn up and be told about the changes just before the ride started wasn’t all that impressive. I’m sure the Demon and I weren’t the only ones that researched the course. In fact, I know of at least one rider who came up especially to recon the course.

It would have been nice to have been sent an email explaining the changes to the race plan. As it was, the Northern Combine website — even yesterday, two days after the race — still showed us E-graders racing the same circuit as the other grades.

E-grade, 3 laps of the Pastoria circuit ... or not

So after the explanations finished and the three marshalls were pointed out (‘these will be the guys who will look out for you on the road and keep you safe’), we rolled out into the unknown.

As you would expect, the first 24km of the ‘race’ were very subdued with the marshalls yelling out instructions and at least a few of us just wanting to get stuck into the action.

But once we reached the turnaround point and we’d all bunched back up it didn’t take long for the pace to pick up. A group of three or four made their way to the front and I found myself trying to go with them.

Whether it was the frustration of the events earlier in the day or a desire to be at the front regardless of the cost, I found myself burning plenty of matches to keep up with the leading group. For what felt like kilometres I was just dangling off the back of a group of five, trying desperately to bridge those final 20 metres.

I’d put in a huge effort to try and reach them but to no avail — they just stayed the same distance away. I was expending huge amounts of energy and I had nothing to show for it.

Eventually I had to make a decision: I could give it everything I had for a minute or two and reach the group, in the hope that I’d be able to suck a wheel for a bit and catch my breath. Or I could sit up, wait for the main bunch (including the Demon who’d missed the split) and work with some others to reel in the break.

Whether it was out of sheer stubborness, an ability to spot the decisive move or a bit of naivety I decided to power on and gave it everything I had. Finally I caught up to the leaders and hung on for dear life as I tried to catch my breath (and let my heartrate return to a manageable level).

As it turned out, it was a great decision. Our group of five or six stayed away until the end of the race (all 24km of it) and we even managed to open up a gap of three of four minutes.

There were times when it was quite easy just to sit in the group and get dragged along but on other occasions — including a climb of probably 1km or so — I was doing everything I could just to hold on. I had hoped that my 3 Peaks training would have given me some advantage in the hills but I was at my absolute limit trying not to get dropped.

The top of the climb came just as I was about to give up the chase and as we all caught our breath, I managed to work my way back into the group.

The out-and-back E-grade course.

As the kilometres wound down, one of the commissaires — hanging out the window of a car driving the opposite direction — yelled out ’1.5km to go!’

There was no immediate reaction from the group but as we neared the ‘finish line’ things started to get a bit more hectic. There was a scramble as we all fought for a wheel and the pace lifted.

Tucked comfortably behind another rider I looked ahead and saw a flashing orange light a couple hundred metres up the road. ‘That must be it!’, I thought.

I looked back, jumped out of the slipstream of the rider ahead and gave it everything I had. I found myself passing the other riders in our small group quite comfortably and with around 30 metres to the line I was well clear. I was going to win my first bike race!

And then I looked ahead and saw another flashing light a little further up the road. A look back at the first light showed I’d been sprinting to be the first to reach a line-painting truck. The second flashing light? Another line-painting van.

As my head dropped I saw ’197BPM’ in the bottom left corner of my Garmin unit; the highest heartrate I’ve ever seen. It was going to take me a little while to recover from that effort.

Sure enough, just beyond the second line-painting truck I could see a small bunch of people on the roadside and a chequered flag being held by one of the race officials. By this point I’d fallen behind two of the other riders in the breakaway (who might have been sprinting for the truck too, I couldn’t tell) and I was doing everything I could to hold off the rider just behind me.

I crossed the line in third place and quickly realised that one of the two riders ahead was a marshall; one of the three guys who had been singled out at the pre-race rider briefing. Beauty. Second place. I’ll take that!

But as it turned out, I wouldn’t. Despite being flagged up as a marshall, despite calling out instructions during the neutral section of the ‘race’ and despite not wearing a race number, the guy that crossed the line first was awarded first place and took home the prize money. Bizarre and, I might add, a little annoying. (More annoying for the fourth-placer-getter, Sam Slaney, who thought he was in the money!)

I took home $20 for third place — not quite enough to cover the cost of entry but certainly better than nothing! It’s a result I’m happy with but one that I was pretty much expected to get, if the above tweets and other comments are anything to go by.

Receiving my prize.

I really wasn’t sure what to expect of the race but one of the things that really stood out was the intensity of the effort. Riding an event like 3 Peaks is a true endurance event. You don’t ride at a high intensity, but you do ride for a long time. Racing (or Saturday’s race anyway) seems to be done at a much higher intensity for a shorter period of time. It was a strange adjustment to have to make, both physically and mentally.

So, should I have raced E-grade? Or should I have started in D?

I think I made the right decision and despite the little frustrations along the way, I found the race to be a rewarding experience. I learned a lot about cycling, bike racing and about myself as a cyclist.

I learnt what it’s like to suffer at your limit with no real way of telling if it’s going to be worth it. I learned that I’ve got a reasonably powerful sprint. And I also learned that finish lines are designated by chequered flags, not flashing yellow lights on orange trucks.

I have no idea how well I would have gone in D-grade but I might just get to find out this weekend. I’ll probably pin on a number for the Hell of the West,  an epic-sounding race near Bacchus Marsh that supposedly has a nasty 1km climb that averages 13%.

If I do race, I won’t be expecting to get anywhere near the podium. I’ll just be doing my best to get through the race in one piece and learn as much in the process as I can.

In closing I’d like to say thanks to Josh, Tim and Sam who all raced E-grade with me (along with another 15 riders or so) and who all came and said hi after the race. That was a nice touch and was greatly appreciated. Thanks too to Jem for having a chat at the presentation ceremony.

Thanks to Preben Kohler who came and found the Demon and I before the race to say hi. It was good to meet you!

Thanks to Ben Douglas (AKA the 3 Peaks Lanterne Rouge) and Peter English — A-grade riders who picked up fourth and fifth on the day, respectively — who took the time to speak to a lowly E-grader and impart some words of wisdom!

Thanks to Fletch for pushing me to sign up and for the terrific ride back to Melbourne after the races. Great idea mate!

And thanks to the Donvale Demon for the lift up to Kyneton and for motivating me to enter the race. I’m sure you’ll bounce back from Saturday and instil some fear into your competitors once again.

Don’t forget to come and say hi over on Facebook or Twitter and, of course, your comments are welcome below.

Until next time, stay safe on the roads and remember, don’t wind up your sprint until you see the finish line!