Mad dogs & Englishmen - Gran Fondo 2011

[FairweatherMike]

Congrats to the Tripleshot crew who performed awesomely at the Whistler GF - 3.5 hours to cover 120 km with 6200 ft of climbing is a first-class achievement. On a spectacularly perfect morning it was great fun to hang with the crew out of the 4 hour corral - at least as far as the upper levels highway!
It felt good to get in to Whistler while a few Tripleshotters were still in the arrival compound - got an enthusiastic greeting from Chris Fraser who saw me in the massage lineup (the massages were perhaps the best bonus feature of the WGF) around noon as the temperature climbed into the 30s. I mentioned that I was thinking of riding back that day, to which Chris just laughed and said, "NOT ADVISABLE!"
I thought about this advice for a minute:

1. Chris is an experienced, high-performance cyclist;
2. He's done this before;
3. He is a physician.

"OK, so what does he REALLY know?" I rationalized as the sun cooked my cranium. After loading up with bananas and chocolate milk, I slipped away - lest I be involuntarily committed - and started back, knowing that I had my son on standby in Vancouver with the car if needed. (I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid) The first 30 km were a delightful reverse of the grinding climbs on the way up. The next 30 km were a reminder that at midday there's no place to hide from the sun, as I realized that I was starting to burn with upwards of 4 hours to go. My guardian angels were on the job as two of the few other mad dogs in the south lane pedalled by, one of whom had sunscreen. Saved! Fuelling and watering in Squamish, I checked in with my son to confirm he was ready to come up if needed, as I was just about ready to pack it in - but knowing he was there encouraged me to try a few more hills. The guardian angels kept up their vigil on the 65kmh descents as I threaded the needle between rumble strips and concrete barriers while dodging glass and bike-swallowing drainage grates. One hill lead to another until the sign for Taylor Way came into view and the last of my adrenaline supply kicked in. What a pleasure to roar down what had been the first hill twelve hours before, then cruise over the Lions Gate on an incredible west coast evening where it seemed that the whole city was out enjoying the weather...

So, apologies to the good doctor for not heeding his advice. And thanks to triathlete Jerry for the offer of a place to stay in Whistler - maybe next year I'll be a little more sensible!