June 29, 2022
Blue Ridge Parkway End 2 End Day 6- Little Switzerland to Asheville
Josh
The Giant of the South, or the Beast of the East, whatever you call it, riding to the summit of Mt. Mitchell on a bicycle is tedious work. The summit is about 4.4 miles off the Blue Ridge Parkway (the only paved access) and rises to a height of 6684 feet.
The Inn we stayed at in Little Switzerland was a true gem. The place has tons of character and the inn-keepers were incredible. They offered to make us a 'mountain breakfast' that included eggs, pancakes, fruit, potatoes, sausage, and bacon. I didn't eat all of it because I didn't want to get too loaded down with chow.
Right from the beginning we started climbing out of Little Switzerland. And, right from the start, George started shining. We got a little separated leaving the inn, by about 15 seconds, due to traffic. That was pretty much the last time I saw George until the summit of Mt. Mitchell 30 miles later. He did so well he ended up with a Top 10 on Strava for a 30 mile segment from Little Switzerland to the summit!
As good as I felt yesterday, I felt just as bad today. My legs just felt too heavy turning the pedals compared to the previous days. While it was cool, it was also super humid, as we were again climbing through the clouds. By about mile 4 I could squeeze my hands tight and my gloves would ooze sweat out onto the ground.
The worst part about climbing Mt. Mitchell, especially from the North, is that you have to climb three or four summits (of other mountains), and then descend off them and give all the elevation back, before you actually get to the park entry. The bottom of the park entry is the steepest. I was really struggling and pedaling squares. I'd shift to a higher gear to stand for a few strokes, then come to a complete stop while standing on the pedals, savor the 1 second of stationary muscle rest, then shift to an easier gear and continue my grinding cadence. To put it in perspective how slow I was going, a wild turkey hen crossed the road in front of me to the left shoulder. She then proceeded to walk alongside me neck-and-neck for about 30 yards, pecking at the dirt and bugs and paying me no mind. She probably thought "this dude ain't a threat, he's just re-thinking his life decisions.''
It's funny the things your memory holds on to while riding. I rode the Assault on Mt Mitchell in 2018 which finishes on the same road and summit as today. It was a true suffer fest for me and I barely finished in the time limit. Today, I kept thinking back to that ride. During that ride the last rest stop is at the ranger station, about 2.5 miles from the summit. In 2018 I was completely drained and slumped into a chair sulking that I had come this far and didn't think I could turn the pedals one more revolution. There was a volunteer there with a thick Spanish accent. He kept urging me on, 'Man, if you quit now you're gonna regret it forever.' 'Man, after this stop it gets easier and you'll be in the big chain ring for most of the rest of climb.' 'Man, hurry up and drink that coke, don't rest too long or start over-thinking it.'
Today all I kept thinking about was 'just make it to the ranger station, just make it to the ranger station.' Today, in my mind, when I got there the same Spanish volunteer was urging me on, 'Man, if you quit now you're gonna regret it forever.'
Today by the numbers:
Wildlife: Ground hog, 1. Turkey, one that walks faster than I climb, 1. Song bird struck and killed by an oncoming vehicle right in front of me, 1.
Calories: 3214 kcal
Food Consumed: PBJ, 1. Half a Stick Boy cinnamon roll. Cheetos, mini bag, 1. Coke, mini, 2. Fig Newton, 2 pack, 1. Peanut butter cup, 2. Some sort of turkey wrap thing Danielle had, 2.
Normalized Power: 239 watts
Fellow Cyclist: 3, all south bound.
Max Speed: 49.7 mph, average speed 14.6 mph
Ride Time: 5:55:42
License Plate Situation:
USA: We added Arizona, Idaho, and South Dakota (about time a Dakota showed up)
Thus far we have seen: Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, West Virginia, Delaware, PA, Maryland, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, Maine, New Hampshire, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Nebraska, Missouri, Arkansas, Louisiana, Colorado, Texas, Kentucky, Montana, Utah, California, Nevada, Alabama, Washington State, Washington DC, Oregon, Rhode Island, Iowa, South Dakota, Mississippi, Arizona, Idaho, and South Dakota.
No signs of Canada, America's hat, today. Thus far we have seen Ontario, Alberta, Nova Scotia, and Quebec.
George
The last time I rode up Mount Mitchell was May of 1989. Until today. As I pushed-scraped-and pulled the pedals of my bike to within a mile of the summit I felt very emotional. So much has happened between then and now in my life, yet this bike ride felt eerily similar. Everything has changed, yet many things have thankfully stayed the same.
I remember the night before the Assault on Mt. Mitchell in '89 I was staying in a hotel room in Spartanburg, SC with my parents and sister, who had come along to support and cheer me on. After dinner at an Italian restaurant my dad had taken us to so I could carbo-load, I snuck away to call the girl I was sweet on. Her name was Lori and we talked for well over an hour before she wished me good luck and we hung up. This morning that same Lori texted me "love and strength" for today's ride up the same mountain. She's been my wife for 32 years now and we have two wonderful grown children... and btw, I'd be remiss not to mention I felt the same thrill when my watch buzzed and I saw her message at 7:30 am.
In 1988, the first and only other time I have ridden up Mitchell, I didn't know what I should do with my life. I was an English major with no plan on how to use it. I didn't want to teach as my mom suggested. So I rode bikes, worked in a local bike shop called Pedal Pushers, and dreamily signed up for rides and races; including a 100 mile event starting in Spartanburg and ending atop the highest point on the east coast of the US. I lived in Wilmington, NC, a coastal beach town that’s flat as a pancake and the only way I could think of to train was to go down to the beach at the windiest point each day, adjust my gears to the hardest one to turn over, and sit up tall as I pedaled into headwinds. Well, now I use high tech trainers and computers that can simulate mountains in the comfort of my home to be ready for hilly challenges. But in the end you still have to pedal, and training still hurts
I did end up listening to my mom. She was right- I was meant to be a teacher. Every day during the BRPE2E she sends me a message from her and dad, a biblical quote or inspiration saying they are proud of me and that strength and determination are gifts and I haven't wasted them. In that final mile today I thought of the thousands of students I've had since 1992, my first year in the classroom. I thought of how my bike has played an integral role in de-stressing me after long days and weeks over all this time. I'm set to retire from teaching this coming December and will miss it terribly. Finally, I thought how incredible it seemed that I could so clearly recognize the Ranger's Station, the twists and turns of the road, and the final parking lot at the summit- yet 33 years have passed by since I saw these things and I'm about to complete something that required even more strength and determination- making it through a full teaching career.
Josh and I, and our SAG team, walked to the memorial at the top where Elisha Mitchell is buried just below an observation deck. The clouds obscured the views... just like time shades many of my memories. But I could see one thing crystal clear- that young guy who was me back in '89 had enough strength and determination to do some really great and important things- he just had to keep pedaling.
~Dedicated to my Ma and Pops. Thanks for being amazing!~
Today's ride: 67 miles (108 km)
Total: 484 miles (779 km)
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