The Ultimate Challenge allows recreational riders to ride the Snowbird, or so-called Queen Stage, of the Tour of Utah starting several hours ahead of the pros. The UC evolved from the Thousand Warriors Race which was judged to be too dangerous following two separate near fatal accidents.
Now, the organizers emphasize the fact that the Ultimate Challenge is not a race, but because of its history and inherent difficulty it still has more of a race-like feel than any other century or organized ride that I have ever participated in. With a total distance of 113 miles and almost 11,000 feet of vertical, the current Ultimate Challenge is almost twenty miles longer and significantly more difficult that the original Thousand Warriors. The big surprise this year was the addition of Guardsman’s Pass which most people found to be even more difficult than Little Cottonwood. I saw very fit guys pushing their bikes on Guardsman’s and if it had not been for compact gearing, I would have been among them. There are two insane things about Guardsman’s Pass which features some 15% grades. At the very top of the pass, there is one final “wall”. It is not long, but it is daunting. Someone can verify this number for me, but I was told that the grade is well above 20%. The other thing is the “pavement” it is like it was paved by guys carrying cooling asphalt in wheelbarrows. John’s theory is that they dumped a big load of asphalt at the top and let it run downhill. Regardless, it is the roughest most uneven pavement I have ever seen.
I spent most of the day in the first big group on the road. John, Jordan, and Weston rode ahead with smaller groups. In spite of some intermediate climbs that would have been big in any other context, our average speed was solidly above 20 mph until the climbing began in earnest at about 75 miles. After that the groups blew up and most people had to go it alone. Little Cottonwood Canyon is always full of supportive fans and spectators, especially in the Tanner’s Flat area. They will pour water over you, offer a water bottle or a Coke, and occasionally run along and give you a push. I must have looked terrible in Little Cottonwood, because I got a lot of pushes there. The best push of my life came from Tate. I was ready to let him run me in to the finish.
There is abundant suffering in many other sports such as distance running and triathlon. However, no other sport defines itself in terms of suffering to the degree that cycling does. From the one-day Classics to the Grand Tours, races are won and lost based on talent, strategy, teamwork, and luck. However, on some level every race is a test of who can suffer the most for the longest time. I can only imagine a glimpse of the suffering that the pros endure. Sometimes, I even feel a little guilt as a fan of professional cycling to be entertained at the expense of other people’s suffering.
I can only really comment on suffering from the perspective of a modestly talented 52 year-old cyclist. There are a number of local events that have built their brand around pain and suffering. Lotoja, The Crusher, and The Ultimate Challenge are prominent among them. They are all quite different, but they have this in common: any one of them is capable of pushing me, at least temporarily, to the brink of physical and emotional collapse. If you were in a hospital bed in a comparable amount of pain, you would be begging for morphine. There is always time for soul searching during these events and I ask myself if somehow I have not already met a lifetime quota for suffering on a bike. Then you get off the bike, start feeling better, and begin planning for next year.
These are Dawn’s pictures of John and me & Sam at Snowbird.
