Tag: travel

The Highest Point in Pennsylvania

It’s not widely known outside of this household that I have a goal to bicycle to the highest point in all 50 states. Well, at least the highest point that is accessible via bicycle, generally on a paved road. It is a lofty goal indeed, but I’m not super strict about the rules… and I’m not in any huge hurry. I just like riding.

As of last week I had 4 states down, including some big ones (Tennessee, North Carolina, Kentucky, & Hawaii). When I was planning my trip to Washington D.C. this past weekend I took a quick glance at some web sites and saw that Pennsylvania & Maryland had high points that were not very far out of my way (additionally West Virginia, Ohio, & Indiana, but I thought two would suffice for a single weekend). So I took my bike and thought if I had time I would ride them, if not no big deal.

The route from Meyersdale to the summit of Mt. Davis

I drove for nine or so hours by the time I reached Meyersdale, PA, at the foot of Mt. Davis. The weather was nice, and I was sick of driving, so I rode. As I was coming into town I noticed there were many wind generators perched atop the rolling hills. As soon as I stepped out of the car I realized why. It was windy. Really windy. And unfortunately, it was going to be a headwind the entire way up Mt. Davis.

Wind generators near Meyersdale, PA

The elevation of Meyersdale was 1935 ft. and the summit of Mt. Davis is 3213-ish ft. So it was a decent change in elevation, but it was no Mauna Kea. As I began the 10 mile ride to the summit I quickly realized this climb was going to be a little different than many of the previous mountains I have ridden. It was really just one large rolling hill after another. It wasn’t very steep (the average grade was 3.2%, with one short 13% section). There were no switchbacks. The strong headwind made it tough, and I didn’t have the best legs after nine hours of driving, so it was slow going.

A sign directing visitors to Mt. Davis with rolling hills in the background

I rode through lots of farmland and passed many people I assume were Amish. There were several horse drawn buggies and a few diesel powered tractors (diesel is apparently okay for the Amish). Everyone waved and seemed rather friendly.

Towards the top the landscape finally turned from large rolling hills into a real actual climb. It got a little steeper at this point, but it was still managable. There was a picnic area at the summit, a sign indicating the significance of the location, and a short distance away was an observation tower. The wind made walking up the tower stairs an interesting experience, but I survived.

Rob at the summit of Mt. Davis, PA

View of Meyersdale, PA from observation tower at summit of Mt. Davis

Mt. Davis ride elevation profile

The long, straight roads and strong tailwind allowed for some fast descending. At one point I passed a group of Amish children who all waved to me as I sped past at 35 mph. When I returned to Meyersdale, I packed up my bike, got back in the car, and drove the remaining three hours to D.C. It was a good way to break up the monotony of driving such a long distance in one day.

High Point Ride Information
Date: 2008-04-04 3:19 PM EDT
State: Pennsylvania
High Point: Mt. Davis
Elevation: 3213 feet
Climb Distance: 3.5 miles
Climb Ascent: 1010 feet
Climb Average Grade: 5.4%
Climb Maximum Grade: 13%
Ride Distance: 19.4 miles
Ride Total Ascent: 1973 feet
Ride Maximum Speed: 45.7 miles/hour
Ride Start: Meyersdale, PA (1935 feet)
Ride End: Meyersdale, PA (1935 feet)

The Cobbles

Saturday was my first bike race of the season. Melissa (the photographer) & I woke up early and drove down to Hillsboro, IL for the 2008 edition of the Hillsboro Roubaix bicycle race. The race actually has nothing to do with Roubaix, France. The name is just a play on the famous bike race Paris-Roubaix. Paris-Roubaix is known for horrible weather, poor roads, and, most of all, many sections of cobble-stones. In the spirit of the spring classics like Paris-Roubiax, the Hillsboro race threw in a half mile section of brick roads for every 22 mile lap.

Hillsboro Roubaix course map

Many members of my Wild Card Cycling team took part in this race. We had a particularly large group in the Category 5 (beginner) race, including me. Amateur bike racing events are generally split up into several different, non-competing, races. Much like running races and triathlons have age group competitions, bike races are split up by category, which is generally determined by the ability and experience of a rider.

Team Wild Card had six riders in the Cat 5 race, out of a field of 50 participants. Our six riders are pretty good, each of us simply lacks race experience. The Cat 5 race was only one lap–22 miles. This is pretty short for a bike race, so chances were good it would hard racing from the get-go. Knowing this, Larry (one of the most experienced racers on the team) came up with a team strategy for those of us in the Cat 5 race.

Mark, Tom, Dan, Stew, Karl, & Rob at the starting line

and they’re off

As soon as the race started there was a long downhill section followed by a steep uphill. Dan (who has a tendency to go downhill faster than most) moved to the front of the group and really hammered down the hill. This strung the pack into one long thin line. It was to be my job to push the pace on the uphill section, but I was badly positioned. I was a little too far back after the downhill section, so Karl hit the front and kept the pace high up the hill. By the time we made a right turn at the top of the hill (less than two miles into the race) we had already cut the size of the field in half.

Hillsboro Roubaix course elevation profile

The pace remained high for the next few miles. At this point we hit another steep uphill section when something unfortunate happened. A car came from the opposite direction. This didn’t endanger the safety of any of the riders. We all knew the roads were open to traffic and we all stayed safely on the right side of the road. The sight of the car did cause a few riders to panic. A lot of people had to slow down, and a couple of people swerved off into the grass. Again, everyone was safe, but this had consequences for the race. Due to all the commotion a gap opened up right in the middle of the remainder of the group. I was at the very front of the second half. I pushed the rest of the way up the hill and I chased the leaders for about a mile all by myself in order to catch up. Once I caught the leaders again I was able to slow down rest a little bit.

It was now only six miles into the race and we had a lead group of 13 riders, four of which (Tom, Mark, Stew, & me) were Wild Card people. Not bad. There wasn’t much action for the next 14 miles or so. I stayed near the back most of the time. I tried on several occasions to move up through the pack, as I was willing to work harder at the front, but nobody really wanted to yield their position. So I basically rested for the majority of the race, my heart rate often in the 120’s. As we came back into town we had two large uphill sections, followed by a long, fast downhill, a half mile of brick roads, then a mad dash to the finish. It was time to move on to phase two of the pre-race plan.

Hillsboro Roubaix course elevation gradient

On the first uphill section into town everyone stayed together. By this point we were starting to pass riders who had been dropped from other races that started before ours. Our pace car got stuck behind one of these riders and we got stuck behind the pace car (which we weren’t allowed to pass). So we moseyed up the hill.

Stew & Tom drop the hammer

The road leveled, we passed the slower riders, then we hit the second hill. This is where Stew attacked. He was our strongest rider in the race and he hadn’t been working very hard up until this point, so he was good and strong. Then disaster almost struck. The pace car got stuck behind another slow rider, and Stew got stuck behind the pace car, AGAIN! Fortunately, this was near the top of the hill and Stew still had a lead over the rest of the group when he was finally able to move forward. Crisis averted.

Team Wild Card took the bull by the horns on the last uphill

The group shattered going up the hill. Stew was out front. There was a chase group of four riders, including Tom. I had moved up from the back of the group and I was just behind the chase group with Mark and one or two others. We made a sharp left-hander then headed down the hill. The high speeds down the hill spread the group out even further. I looked up the road and saw Stew still had a pretty good lead with Tom nicely positioned in the second group. At the bottom of the hill we hit the brick road at around 35 mph. I was with one other rider at this point. We turned another corner, headed uphill, and I pulled away from him.

Every part of my bike rattled as the bricks attempted to tear it apart. At some point I heard a loud popping sound and almost immediately my back wheel started wiggling all over the place. I thought to myself, “Oh shit. I just got a flat tire a half mile from the finish.” I looked down and my tire still held air. I didn’t know what was going on, so I just kept peddling. As the brick road continued my rear wheel was still moving all over. I looked down at it three or four more times and it still had air each time.

The brick road ended and I turned the last corner with just a couple hundred meters remaining. I saw Stew had just crossed the line in first. The chase group of four people were sprinting to the line and I saw Tom win that sprint for second place. Next I finished sixth, then Mark came in behind me for seventh. Four places in the top seven was as good as we could have possibly hoped. A few minutes later Karl finished in 23rd, then after him Dan finished in 32nd. These two made big sacrifices to help their teammates then rode much of the race alone. It was really quite amazing.

On top of the tremendous success of team Wild Card in the Cat 5 men’s race, the next race to finish was the Cat 4 women’s race, where Wild Card member Severine won the sprint for first place.

Dan, Karl, Rob, Severine, Stew, Tom, Mark (photo by Luke)

I didn’t see much of the action in the other races, but Larry finished fourth in the Masters 50+ race, but was possibly later disqualified for some reason. Luke, who was sick all week, DNF’d (did not finish) in the Cat 3 race. There were a few other people from Champaign-Urbana there, but I don’t really know how their races went.

Team Wild Card’s first event turned out to be pretty successful. Hopefully, this is a sign of things to come.

The Cattle Guard

I recently had a conversation with another cyclist about cattle guards. My only experience with them was on the climb up Mauna Kea on the big island of Hawaii. I was too afraid to ride over them so I got off and walked the bike across. Apparently, the trick is to hit them at full speed on your bike and everything will be fine.

Rob negotiating a cattle guard on Mauna Kea Observatory Road

The Camp, Sunday

Sunday was a still a little chilly, but it was sunny and dry so I didn’t care. The plan for the morning was to ride to Makanda, a little town near Giant City park, to do repeats up and down a big hill that heads out of town. My legs were trashed from the previous two days, but given that we were planning to just ride back and forth on one section of the road it didn’t really matter if we stayed together. Everyone could ride their own pace.

We started out with a warm up ride over to Little Grassy Lake (my friend Cara’s favorite place). Then we headed back to Makanda where we met up with the riders who were staying at Lick Creek and we gathered for a team photo.

Wild Card Cycling team (photo courtesy of Karl)

Then came the hill. It was steep, but after the first repeat I actually began to feel better than before. After the second repeat I felt even better still. I was beginning to feel like Rob again for the first time all weekend. Our noon check out time was quickly approaching, so I was only able to do one more repeat. I really put a lot into the last climb. Phew. I hit my weekend high of 39.1 miles/hour on the way down. Not bad considering the road wasn’t very straight, but still room for improvement. My fastest ever was 46 miles/hour on the descent of Clingman’s Dome.

Distance: 30.06 miles
Duration: 1:55:00
Avg Heart Rate: 125
Max Heart Rate: 171
Calories: 1472
Total Ascent: 1262 feet
Weather: 48˚, sunny

Sunday’s route

Sunday’s elevation

After an easy ride back to the cabins we showered, packed up, and headed out. John A., Jay, and I had an excellent lunch at Moe’s Southwest Grill in Carbondale. I had both the burrito meal and the quesadilla meal. I was sleepy on the way home but I managed to stay awake somehow. Melissa came out to the street to greet me when I returned home. Perhaps she missed me a little.

Don’t have an emergency at the I-57 rest area just north of Effingham

The Camp, Saturday

Saturday was to be the big day of the camp. We planned to do 100 miles from Lick Creek to Golconda and back. Unfortunately, the weather was not cooperative. It was rainy and much colder (low 40s) than the day before. We delayed the ride, hoping the weather would improve, but after 30 impatient minutes we finally departed with no change in weather.

I was standing around talking to Jay, who was putting his shoes on, when the group decided to pull out. To our surprise they took off anyway. I waited a minute or so for him to get ready, but by this time the group was well up the road. We chased hard for about 4 miles to catch the group. It was right then we hit the first big hill of the day. My legs were really feeling the previous day’s effort as I slowly made my way up the hill. We stopped to regroup at the top. I was already tired from Friday, I was tired from chasing, I was tired from the first big ass hill. This is not how I wanted to feel 5 miles into a 100 miler.

At this point we all agreed to keep the pace sane and stick together for the first 30 miles, at which point we would reassess the situation. This plan lasted all of 30 seconds. The group spread out again on the rolling hills, and the riders up front were not keen on waiting. I spent the next 15 miles yo-yoing off the back of the group, desperately trying to cling on. I was soaking wet at this point and the brutal North wind chilled me to the bone. We stopped after 20 miles and I knew something had to change. There was no way I could come anywhere close to doing 100 miles at this pace on this terrain in these conditions.

We decided to split up. Six of us would continue another five miles before turning around for a 50 mile ride. Others would continue another 10 miles before turning around for a 60 mile ride. The ride back to lick creek was a bit of a blur. The weather was so nasty and I all I wanted was to be warm and dry. I was not the worst off though, as Ethan was a little underdressed and was shaking and chattering his teeth.

Five miles from the finish Jeff got a flat tire. We stuck around and helped him change it, then headed towards the finish. 300 meters later his tire went flat again. This was at the top of the big hill I mentioned previously and he and I were at the back of the group. Nobody else noticed he had flatted and they continued on their merry way. So Jeff & I stopped to fix his tire. He didn’t have a second spare with him so I gave him mine… except it didn’t fit. Jeff’s wheels have deep (aerodynamic) rims and the valve stem on my spare tire wasn’t long enough to go all the way through. Crap. I called Karl to see if they had returned to Lick Creek yet, but he did not answer. So I left Jeff to go get somebody’s car at the finish. I ran into Karl just past the bottom of the hill. He was waiting to make sure we knew which way to turn. We finished the last four miles together. Then I got into Jeff’s room, found his keys, and drove his truck back to pick him up. Incidentally, this won me the Best Team Support award at our dinner Saturday night.

A Wild Card Cycling mug I won at dinner on Saturday

Since we finished at Lick Creek I didn’t have any clothes or much food with me, and I didn’t have the keys to the car I rode in anyway. Karl was kind enough to offer to let me shower in his room and he lent me a sweatshirt and some jeans to wear. I almost didn’t take him up on the offer because I thought the lead group was only going 10 miles farther so they should have been back any time. I’m very glad I did take him up on the offer because the lead group decided to do the full 100, and they were gone for several more hours.

What an awful day.

Distance: 51.39 miles
Duration: 3:05:15
Avg Heart Rate: 142
Max Heart Rate: 179
Calories: 2819
Total Ascent: 1154 feet
Weather: 44˚, rainy

Saturday’s route

Saturday’s elevation

After the ride we headed back to Giant City, caught some Start Trek on TV, and caught a nap. All the Lick Creek people came to the Giant City Lodge for dinner. Saturday’s special was all-you-can-eat fried chicken, which was quite popular. I stuck with my steamed vegetables, rice, mashed potatoes, and corn.

Martin, Dave, Tom, Ethan

Karl, Larry, Severine, Jeff

Jeff, Adam, Gene

Jay, Nick, Greg, Luke

Stewart, Don, John S.

John B., John A.

After dinner we quickly realized there was nothing on TV and went to bed even earlier than Friday. This was a tired bunch.

The Camp, Friday

Last weekend I travelled with several friends from my cycling team (Wild Card Cycling) to hilly southern Illinois for a training camp. We spent 3 days riding on terrain a little more challenging than that of Champaign county. There were 20 people total.

On Friday afternoon we did an out and back ride from Lick Creek to Bald Knob, one of the highest points in Illinois. The temperature was a little cool, but the sun was shining. The excitement of the group showed in the quick pace we set. I was assuming we would all stay together the whole way except for the big climb up Bald Knob. I was wrong. The groups frequently split up on the smaller hills and then those towards the back (often including me) had to chase hard to catch back up. We did all stop to regroup a few times.

On the way out it wasn’t so bad because I was relatively fresh. This was a sensation I would not feel again for a few days. The first third of the ride I could keep up with the stronger riders on the uphill sections, but it took a lot of effort. Everyone rode Bald Knob at their own pace. On the way back I was getting tired, but the pace of the group actually seemed to increase. I spent quite a lot of time off the back of the group chasing to try to get back on. With about 10 miles left I unhitched for good and rode alone or with one or two other stragglers to the finish.

It was a hard ride, a lot harder than I expected.

Distance: 41.94 miles
Duration: 2:23:34
Avg Heart Rate: 147
Max Heart Rate: 182
Calories: 2466
Total Ascent: 1180 feet
Weather: 54˚, sunny

Friday’s route

Friday’s elevation

Wild Card Cycling team at the top of Bald Knob (photo courtesy of Karl)

After the ride, 8 of us travelled a short distance from Lick Creek to Giant City State Park, where we had cabins reserved. Giant City had a lookout tower which provided nice views.

Bald Knob was visible in the distance from Giant City State Park

8 of us stayed at the cabins at Giant City State Park

Martin, Rob, John S., John A., Don, Gene, John B., & Jay at Giant City

We ate dinner at the Giant City Lodge. The restaurant had 1 vegetarian option, steamed vegetables (and rice, and sides). Fortunately, it was absolutely delicious. Most of the other guys had the all-you-can-eat fried catfish dinner, for which the lodge is apparently famous. Needless to say, nobody left the lodge hungry, and some of us had a difficult time walking.

We got to bed relatively early in anticipation of a longer, harder ride on Saturday.

The Tour de Groundhog

Last night after dinner my dad told me I was crazy for planning to do a bike race today. Of course, at the time it was 34˚ and raining. Luckily the weather was a little bit better for the Tour de Groundhog today. In fact, the weather started out a little too good, as I had to shed several layers once I started warming up.

I noticed on the drive over to Springfield that there was a lot of standing water/ice on the ground from some recent flooding. It wasn’t until I started warming up that I realized what this would mean for the race: mud, and lots of it.

I did the masters 30+ race (which is interesting given that I am 29, but apparently they use your age at the end of the calendar year…). There were only 7 people in the race, so it wasn’t too crowed. After about 10 meters the course immediately turned into the woods and from there it was a battle of wills more than an athletic competition. A good 30-40% of the course was unridable. So there was lots of dismounting and running/walking with the bike. About 2 times each lap my tires would literally stop spinning, so I would have to stop and pull a handful of mud out of both my front and rear brakes in order to be able to ride again.

The course map

It certainly was an adventure. I did get lapped by the winner, but that wasn’t totally unexpected. I ended up 5th of the 7 people in the masters race, which was good enough to win some socks and water bottles (two things of which I own copious quantities, but still never enough). Just to give you an idea how bad the conditions were, I travelled less than 3 miles in 33 minutes of racing. This is a slower pace than I averaged running for 28.4 miles at the Riddle Run ultramarathon 3 weeks ago. Perhaps my dad knew what he was talking about.

The Escape

This is the unlikely story of my favorite race of all time.

Most every summer I attend Apple’s annual Worldwide Developers Conference in California. The first few years I attended the conference it took place in San Jose, then it later switched to San Francisco. Both fine choices.

In 2003 I was at the peak of my triathlon prowess. That summer I did a triathlon or ran a road race almost every weekend. Earlier in the spring I was planning which races I wanted to do, and on a whim I decided to search for races in San Francisco on the weekends before and after the conference. I lucked out. The Alcatraz “Escape from the Rock” Triathlon was taking place in San Francisco the day before WWDC started.

There was only one problem. Triathlons have become so popular that big races nearly always fill up months ahead of time. With just a few weeks to go until the race I was sure it would be full. I emailed the race organizers and I was delighted to hear back from them that there were 2 spots available. I promptly snapped one up. The race entry fee was rather large, but I figured that if this actually worked out it would be a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Pre-race

I didn’t really want to deal with taking my own bike on the plane so I rented a bike from Bay City Bike. The organizers required all equipment to be set up the day before the race, so I arranged to fly out to San Francisco a day early. My flight arrived on time. I took a taxi to my hotel, unpacked, then took a bus to Bay City Bike. They had my reservation and I picked up the bike. It was a low end Giant road bike, which is not super great, but it was more than adequate for my needs.

I rode the bike with my backpack full of race gear to the transition area at an old warehouse near Crissy Field. I picked up my registration packet for the race and I set up the bike and all my other gear. Now it was time to return to my hotel. Except I no longer had the bike. And I didn’t see any taxis or buses. So I walked about 3 miles back to the bike shop (the only place I knew for sure where I could find a bus) then took the bus back downtown to my hotel. Given that this was the worse thing that had happened so far, and everything else had gone off without a hitch, I wasn’t too upset about it. I mean, think of all the things that could have gone wrong (delayed flight, missing hotel reservations, missing bike, missing registration, bad weather, etc.).

Race Day

I woke up very early the next morning. I gathered my running shoes, my wetsuit & goggles, and headed to the race start. I had no problems finding a taxi, as the city was dead at this time of the morning. Perhaps I was a little too early. I saw very few people near the race staging area, but I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. I had worked so hard just to get to this point I wasn’t going to let it slip away. I set up my gear in the first transition area. It was time.

The course map

The Swim

All the race participants gathered onto a boat and headed to Alcatraz island. The organizers went over the race instructions on the way out there. The boat pulled up close to the east side of the island, they opened up the doors, and everybody started jumping into the water. I was one of the last people remaining on the boat and I was nervous as hell when it was my turn.

Then I jumped.

The mid-June 58˚ water of the San Francisco bay hit me like a blast of winter wind. I was wearing a wetsuit, but it still took a minute or so for the water in the wetsuit to heat up to a bearable temperature. My face on the other hand didn’t have the luxury of a neoprene covering. It was cold, and it would remain cold for the next 35 minutes.

As I treaded water, trying to catch my breath, I noticed that several people had started swimming already, even though the race hadn’t started yet. I was quite some distance back from the imaginary starting line anyway, so I started swimming as well. The boat horn blew to signal the start of the race just as I reached the line and I kept right on going.

My swim cap

Now, swimming in the San Francisco bay is notoriously difficult–it’s part of the mystique of Alcatraz. I was beginning to understand why. In addition to the frigid water, the waves were pretty rough. No amount of swimming laps in a pool, nor even short open water swims in muddy midwestern lakes, prepared me for the constant ups and downs of the ocean-like bay water. I had never swam in saltwater before and this also caused me some difficulties. In the normal course of swimming I sometimes get water in my mount and I inadvertently swallow some of it. Well, the salt water was causing me to gag and I had to stop for a few seconds a handful of times to prevent myself from puking.

Finally, the current is incredibly strong. We couldn’t just swim straight towards our destination or we would end up out in the Pacific ocean. We had to aim significantly to the east of our destination and the current would correct our course. When I was just a few hundred meters out I realized I had overshot the small entrance to municipal harbor and I started swimming vigorously against the current. By the time I reached the entrance I was still 20 meters or so down current of where I needed to be. That’s when the current slammed me (and everyone around me) into the pier. The force of hitting the pier wasn’t so bad, but it was covered with barnacles. As I pushed off of the pier to get back where I needed to be these tiny sharp crustacea sliced my bare fingers and toes in several places, leaving me bleeding as I exited the water and I ran up onto the shore.

All things considered it was actually a pretty decent swim. I did the 1.5-ish miles in 35 minutes, which put me roughly in the middle of the pack. I don’t think I could have expected any better.

The Run

Normally triathlons are arranged in swim-bike-run order, but this race was a little different. In order for the locations to work out correctly there was a 2.5 mile run between the swim and the bike, then another 7.5 mile run after the bike. So it was swim-run-bike-run.

After exiting the water I ran to the transition area put on my shoes and tried to wipe off as much blood as possible from my fingers. I didn’t want it on my triathlon suit, so I wiped it on my race number. Fortunately, the cuts were tiny and the bleeding stopped within a few minutes.

My somewhat bloody race bib

I did the first 2.5 mile run at a pretty easy pace and maintained my position in the middle of the pack. Normally in triathlons the run is where I excel, but there was a lot of racing left to do.

The Bike

I reached the transition area at the warehouse, grabbed my bike, and I was off. Immediately there was a large steep hill (this is San Francisco). The road went uphill for a mile, then downhill for a mile, then there was a turnaround, then uphill for a mile, then downhill for a mile, turnaround, repeat, repeat.

The bike ride was hilly. I had never trained on hills. There are no hills in central Illinois. But a funny thing happened during the race–a rather unexpected thing. I started passing people. And not just a few people, but I started passing a lot of people. Every uphill section I passed dozens of people. Every downhill section I passed a few more. After the hilly 12 mile bike ride there really weren’t that many people left ahead of me. Apparently I can bike well on hills.

Rob on the bike. Thanks to my mom for buying the official race photograph.

The Run

The second run was an out-and-back. It was longer (7.5 miles) and harder (hills, trails, sand, etc). It started up a trail that went right under the Golden Gate bridge. I mean right under. I could jumped up and touched the bottom of the bridge. The trail wound up, down, and around, and ended at Baker beach. It was at the end of the beach that I saw the race leader headed back the opposite direction. Hmm. How far is it to the turn around? How many people are ahead of me?

After a stroll through the sand the course wound through a neighborhood then up a hill to the Legion of Honor. Going up this hill another runner passed me. Again, the run is where I usually excelled, so it was rare that other people passed me while running in a triathlon. I wasn’t going let this slide. I reached the turnaround top of the hill after counting 24 people ahead of me.

On the downhill I caught back up with the runner who had passed me earlier and did likewise to him. Then after running back across Baker beach I reached the notorious sand ladder. The sand ladder is basically a set of stairs made out of wood and sand. It climbs the steep hill from Baker beach up to the trail that goes right under the Golden Gate bridge. There was no chance of running up this thing, so I just did the best I could to keep walking at a brisk pace until I got to the top. From there on it was all down hill.

The windy trail made its way back under the bridge then back down to sea level. I caught one other runner at the bottom of this hill as we both made a mad dash for the finish line.

Epilog

I ended up finishing in 2:38:19, good enough for 23nd place overall (out of 440 finishers) and 2nd place in my age group. Not only was the race a whole lot of fun, it was my best triathlon performance ever, and one of my best performances ever in any kind of race.

I am still amazed to this day that all the necessary pieces came together to allow me to take part in this amazing event. It was truly a once in a lifetime opportunity. Until the next once in a lifetime opportunity comes along, I’m satisfied to have escaped from Alcatraz.