As Greg Lemond, the American Tour De France winner once said: “It doesn’t get any easier, you just get faster”. Returning to Tenerife for another training camp (or ‘holiday’ as I tactfully refer to them at home) was a painful reminder of the first half of Greg’s famous quote. Somewhere in my cycling obsessed brain, I’d decided that having pedalled up Mount Teidi several times earlier in the year that it would somehow be easier this time.
Obviously this was not the case. I might have moved to the edge of the Peak District, but any UK climb starts to look like a pathetic pimple once you leave your Tenerife hotel by the sea and embark on a continual climb to the lip of the crater at 7200ft/2200m. For an average amateur like me, that’s three hours of non-stop climbing, depending on route, fitness and form. For more specific route advice check out the blog from the last ‘holiday’.
Coping with the climb
If you’re not a veteran of long climbs you’ll be needing some coping strategies to get you through. 25 miles of uphill is obviously a lot to come to terms with, so break it into the three sections, but ride straight through onto the next one though or you might be tempted to stop. There’s plenty of time to think, although if you’re really serious you’ll only be concentrating on your pedalling and breathing. I can’t claim to be that disciplined yet though, so for me, life gets evaluated, perspective is gained and often these blogs get written.
I don’t think I could cope with any kind of long ride without a decent amount of data to look at, which is where the Garmin 705 comes in. Average speed, heart rate, cadence, gradient – they’re aIl decent distractions, but you can’t beat watching the altitude readout on a long climb. On a climb like Mount Teidi you see altitude figures on your Garmin that would normally have you planning a system reset and thoughts like ‘only another 2000 feet of climbing’ become almost normal.
I’ve gone off the route into the actual crater, with it’s howling winds, broken Tarmac and coaches, in favour of pausing to eat my squashed sandwich before the frantic hour of descent back to the hotel. It’s worth doing once though, just for the spectacle of it. In the UK I go out of my way to create rides that form perfect loops, or at least interesting shapes (that’ll be the OCD…) Out here though, I’m perfectly happy to retrace my route in order to relive and celebrate every hard earned slope and hairpin whilst (almost) graciously swooping downwards with gravity now very much on my side.
What wasn’t on my side this visit though, was the wind. Having quickly realised that none of the weather forecasts could be relied on, I just set off each time regardless. Whilst it was never an issue on the way up, and once past Vilaflor it was ghostly still, the descents lower down became somewhat terrifying for a man trying to cling on to a lightweight carbon bike.
So was Greg right?
I’d certainly not found it any easier this time, but was I any quicker? Via the magic of Strava, it turned out that I was! Without the ability to upload my rides until returning to the UK, I’d been attacking the routes based on fairly imprecise targets and maximum efforts. It seemed to have worked though, as I’d shaved minutes off every category 1 segment and even PR’d on every descent as well. Although I did the same amount of rides as last time, I didn’t actually do as many miles and climbing, but what I did do was ride harder. And maybe it’s that intensity that’s been lacking from my riding this year. So whilst I’ve not achieved any of the sportive results I wanted this year, I’m treating my performance on Teidi as an achievement.
Here’s the evidence on Strava: ride 1, ride 2, ride 3, ride 4. I feel like I’ve ‘done’ Teidi properly now and having been there twice, it’s probably time to find another training camp destination. Oops, I mean holiday…
The view from the hotel
I believe this is called a ‘selfie’ in modern parlance