5391m of climbing on a beautiful 300km brevet in the Ibaraki Hills

Sun breaks through during rain. Like a sign from heaven!

Spectacular countryside this time of year!

RAMAX and rider rest

Jerome and I needed to complete an official 300km brevet as part of our qualification for Cascade1400 in June. 

Jerome had planned to join a Chiba 300km brevet back in late February or early March. That Chiba 300 was postponed at the last minute due to a snow forecast. He rode it on his own anyway, as there was not any actual snow accumulation ... but it did not count toward qualification.

I had already done a 300k in November 2021 (the brevet year starts November 1) ... but when I checked with the organizer of Cascade1400, Susan O., she told me that they really wanted us to do the qualifying rides in the calendar year 2022, not the brevet year 2022. And why wouldn't I do a 300km event anyway, for preparation?  She helpfully noted that I could substitute a longer one for a shorter one. Yes, I needed to prepare. In fact, I REALLY feel a need to prepare thoroughly this time. I have a nasty habit recently of not completing 1000km+ events, I am not in the kind of cycling shape that I was back when I was doing lots of Audax, and I am not getting any younger. So I am highly motivated to train well for Cascade1400. I think that this ride, and PBP 2023, will make or break me for whether I want and am able to keep doing these rides into my 60s.

But I wanted to train by riding lovely places as and when it suited me, rather than slogging in and out of urban areas, eating convenience store food, riding in inclement weather, etc. Audax rides cannot take closed rindos, for example. And they cannot adjust to the weather forecast in real time.

Anyway, we signed up for a Saitama 300km event in March .... But it was postponed due to Covid-19 "stop the spread" countermeasures. We rode to Mitsumine Shrine instead -- a better choice as we had never taken that route, and good for training, but not a qualifier.

Jerome and I each did separate 200k events, he one in Kanagawa, me the Nishi Izu ride (that met my "no urban sprawl" criteria extremely well ... but involved several hours of riding in heavy rain and dark).

So we needed an alternative 300km (or longer) ride. We had already signed up for (and did complete) the 400km Chiba ride around Boso Peninsula on April 9, and we are planning to join the Randonneur Tokyo 600km event for April 23. So it was a matter of finding something held on this weekend (April 16-17), or waiting until the last moment in May to qualify. This is flechè weekend in Japan for many Audax clubs ... the only 300km ride in the Kanto region was another Chiba Audax event. But it was a Chiba event not held in Chiba ... The ride started from Lake Kasumigaura in Ibaraki and went north, entering the hills at Kasama city and taking two "wide area agricultural roads", the Beef Line and the Green Furusato Line, all the way to Kita-Ibaraki on the coast ... then back again. See the course here.

The course looked attractive -- low traffic roads through the hills -- with few traffic lights. I remembered the Beef Line from a ride in the wee hours of the morning on a freezing cold 400km brevet we did in 2015. I also had ridden it during a 200km Utsumoniya-based event in 2010, one of my first Audax rides. As with the 400km Chiba event last weekend, and the 200km Nishi Izu (AJ Nishi Tokyo) one two weeks earlier, this was another chance to start and finish a ride beyond the edges of greater Tokyo's urban sprawl, avoiding the slogging that cycling in and out of Tokyo entails.

It did look as if there would be a lot of climbing. AJ Chiba had ranked it 4 out of 5 stars for "difficulty". We signed up quickly, as many Chiba events fill up within days or hours of registration opening.

We need not have worried about it filling up. In the end, the list of registered riders had only 16 names on it, out of 50 slots.  Why? Well, the start location is a long way off the beaten path for most Tokyo-based riders--no way to take a train to Tsuchiura and join the event without riding 20+kms to the start, and only one small lodging option I could see anywhere nearer. So this event would be pretty much limited to people who could show up via car, or who don't mind a lot of extra riding at odd hours before and after an event.

But somehow the location did not stop the full complement of 50 riders from signing up for a parallel Chiba Audax 400km event held the same day from the same start location! So why was the 300km event not more popular?

So many of these signs ... it was almost a joke.

I looked more closely at the Ride with GPS route of the event. It showed that the course has 7639 meters of elevation gain. That little detail, and the 4-star difficulty rating, explained the small number of registered riders! I recalled that Chiba also holds a 200km "gravel" event on Boso peninsula, one that looks extremely challenging and involves riding some barely passable streambeds and washed out roads -- a course suitable for the Rough Stuff Fellowship ... but that must be completed within standard Audax time limits (13hr 30min for a 200km ride). AJ Chiba never let the absence of high mountains in Chiba prefecture get in the way of a really difficult ride.

This is the elevation profile for the 300km ride via RidewithGPS:

Of course, RidewithGPS overstates elevation gain, especially on a course with tunnels. We knew it could not be anywhere near 7639 meters of climbing ... that would be a positively Himalayan climb! I looked on Google Maps at the hilltop sections ... and could find a few tunnels that would save elevation, but fewer and shorter than I would expect. The course never exceeds 560m elevation -- no real mountains -- but the middle 200km would be very hilly and very hard. I was guessing that we would have around 5000m of climbing -- something more Andean than Himalayan. The only time I have done that much climbing in a day's cycling ... was on the first day of the SR600 Fuji, or the first half of an aborted attempt at the SR600 Nihon Alps. Those were very hard days, and none since in 2017.

It looked as if the approximately 30 km stretch of the Beef Line would be just a warm-up, and the real hills would come along the Green Furusato Line, a nearly 70 km stretch that led to the turn around point in Kita Ibaraki.

Anyway, I was awake by 4AM, picked up Jerome at 5AM, and we approached the start area by car shortly before 630AM ... only to see a line of riders akready leaving. Oh no ... were they letting everyone go early, THAT much early? We asked the first person we saw in an Audax reflective vest ... and he told us they were doing the (much easier - 2 stars) 400km event, which had a 630AM start group. Ahh. I did not even realize the two brevets started at the same location. Whew.

We set up our bikes, left the car, and went to the start area. As we were setting up, Jerome suggested he would use his fenders. I told him he would not need them ... though it had been raining at night, it was dry now, and the forecast was that light rain would be only 30-40% likely for the first hour or two of the ride, then we would enjoy dry conditions, with sunshine in the afternoon and clear skies at night. I was more concerned about the stiff wind from the North forecast throughout the day or at least throughout our northward first half.

Just as the ride briefing ended, it started to rain again. Jerome wanted to go back up the hill to the car for his fenders. I told him not to worry. ... but my reassurance lacked confidence. It did rain very lightly for the first hour of the ride. Fortunately, it was never enough to get us really wet, nor to cause any water to build up on the road (that would require a fender).

We started out heading along Lake Kasumigaura, crossed a bridge and turned NNW. We found ourselves in a headwind even before reaching the bridge. But the wind was a factor only for the first 15-20 kms, as it dissipated further inland and in the mountains. Jerome was riding faster than me ... he started with a pull, then eventually I lost contact with him.

Soon after, a taller Japanese rider passed me going just slightly faster than I was. I jumped on his rear, and soon noticed that another rider had joined and was just behind me. Eventually we reached a red light and I could ask our leader his name -- Ken(taro) Eshita. I stayed on his rear the rest of the way to PC1 at km 42.6. Jerome had arrived 5-10 minutes earlier and was there waiting. Jerome, Ken, and I headed out of the PC together with another rider whose bike had at least 80mm deep rims on its wheels, front and rear. ... really more appropriate for a track event or windless TT than for this kind of Audax ride, he said. We stayed together until the entrance to the Beef Line, 7-8 kms further on. This started with a nasty short 10%+ uphill stretch. Eshita-san mused "I wonder how many times we will need to do that?"  I had an answer ready -- one hundred. He seemed surprised. I said, well we just climbed at most 50 meters. The total climbing on the sections ahead, ridden in both directions, is around 5000 meters, so 50m x100 times. He didn't flinch. 

Jerome and Eshita-san both went ahead while I took it easy. I think Jerome made it to the second PC, between the Beef Line and the Green Furosato Line, around 10 minutes ahead of me. We again headed out together and he quickly powered ahead. I did not want to consume the energy it would take even to draft off of him. 

On the Beef Line

Jerome fades into the distance ...

Somehow, the route seemed more difficult going north than returning to the south, despite our increased level of fatigue. I don't think it was the wind ... barely noticeable in the mountains. We each felt this way, and agreed it was mostly psychological. Going North, we had no idea how hard the ride would be nor how much time would be required. We only knew that the climbs got longer and longer, until the high points 125 and 135 kms into the 150km leg, before a long descent into Kita-Ibaraki. Also, going North we were uncertain whether we would be able to complete the ride within the time limit. What if it was really 5500, 6000, or 6500 meters of gain ... closer to the RidewithGPS total? There were lots of seesaw up and downs apparent on the RidewithGPS profile, and they did look real -- no tunnels after a few kilometers into the Green Furusato Line. If we had used anywhere near 1/2 of our 20 hours to get to Kita-Ibaraki, it would be foolishly optimistic to think we could turn around and complete it a second time as fast or faster. In the end, Jerome got to Kita-Ibaraki 8 hours after our start, and I did so 34 minutes later, so he had 12 hours and I 11 hrs 26 minutes for the return trip. 

On the return leg, we each knew we had enough "savings" in the time bank to clear all the time limits. 

Looking down as we start to climb on the Green Furusato Line

Heading South later in the day.

Looking down toward the coast.

Support for Ukraine displayed by the Ibaraki road construction team?!

Unlike the Chiba ride last weekend, this time I had no stomach issues, I remained well-hydrated and well-fueled. We started with headwinds and a bit of rain, but most of the way had ideal weather. As in 2015, the mountains were chilly -- a roadside thermometer in the hills showed 6 degrees C (43F) just after 6PM, while still daylight. But despite the lack of cloud cover -- in fact, we had glorious moon lighting -- it was just enough warmer as we headed south, toward lower elevation, that my clothing, especially my Q36.5 Amfib gloves, were sufficient. And despite plenty of stomping on the pedals on all those climbs, I had no "hot foot" issues (having added a thin gel insert to my shoes on top of the insole around the ball of each foot). Yes, this was a very hard course, and I did pull off to the side of the road twice in between PCs to rest for 5 minutes or more -- once going and once coming back. But I never felt the kind of exhaustion that often hits mid-ride on an event that takes more than 12 hours in the saddle. 

The RAMAX handled very nicely -- it is a refined, comfortable ride, and gave me a very stable feeling on the fast descents! 

Darkness fell after the first major climb and descent on the return trip, still 100+kms left ahead. And the night riding gave everything I love about such trips in Japan. Most of the time I was entirely alone on the road -- no one in sight in front or behind, no cars or trucks. The sky was clear, the stars were out, and a very bright, almost full moon rose at dusk and reached high above a few hours later. On many stretches, I felt as if I could almost ride without a front light on the bike even as I accelerated down the hills.

The moon rises ... just after my first big descent on the return leg.

Moonlight photo.

Jerome finished at midnight, after 17 hours. 

I followed at 1:31AM, 91 minutes behind, in 18 hrs and 31 minutes. 

According to the organizers, in the end 19 registered for the ride. 4 did not start (DNS), 3 did not finish (DNF), and the remaining 12 completed. Eshita-san finished in 17:30.  I was one of the slower riders -- no surprise given my weight and the elevation gain, just physics. But 6 out of 12 were in the 18-19 hour range, 2 in 17-18, 2 in 16-17, the fastest at 13:32, and second in 14:57. 

In the end, after uploading my GPS track to Strava, it shows 5391 meters of elevation gain.

That just tops either Day 1 or Day 2 of the SR600 Fuji, also as uploaded to Strava. So this ride might be the most climbing I have done in a single day, ever?  My time was not fast, but I had more than an hour of "extra" time at each PC, so never felt rushed. Indeed, on the way back, I could even enjoy the climbs as I knew the route and was confident that I would finish.

And if I think back to the 300km I did with Jerome in October last year that had 1800m less climbing, but took 30 minutes longer, I can be satisfied with my progress. 

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It is a thing these days (called "Everesting") for younger, lighter, stronger riders to go up and down a hill repeatedly in a single ride until they have climbed as high as Mt. Everest, 8848 meters gain. A young Australian cyclist did this on his home hill, and set up a website as it became a thing. Apparently others could not resist.  I have never been tempted.

Well, I think we need a new challenge for over-50 cyclists.

The Nevada Del Ruiz challenge? That is a volcano in Colombia Elev. 5389m. Perfect height. Then again, 23,000 people died when it erupted in 1985, so maybe not ideal as a name for a challenge. Sure, people die on Everest every year, but most of them assume the risk by trying to climb it. 
The Mt. Foraker challenge? At elevation 5308m it is close, and it is the second highest peak in the Alaskan range, neighbor to the higher Denali. But who was Foraker? A politician from Ohio, who apparently had a passion for racial justice.

There are dozens of candidates in the 5000 meter range. 

Or another idea -- we make it a challenge open only to those at least 50 yrs old. If 50, you must climb the equivalent of Mt. Kilimanjaro -- 5891m. Then subtract 100 meters for each year of age. And limit the effort to 20 hours. So our ride would qualify for anyone 55 or older. Perfect for Jerome, and a decent fit for me. The Kilimanjaro Challenge! I like the ring of it. Let's see, if I still want to do the Kilimanjaro Challenge at age 70, I would need to do a ride of 3891 meters elevation gain in under 20 hours. At age 75, 3391m. At age 85, 2391m. At some point the two lines of what is achievable, and what meets the challenge, will cross. But not soon, I hope.