Another Foot Forward: Ester Dome Ass Kicker

The elevation profile. Pretty nasty eh?

That was the name of a foot race here in Fairbanks. I'm not sure it is still in existence but I thought the name was particularly apt for my bike ride today. I pretty much kicked my own ass, but in a good way, if that is possible.

The route. Click on this for a slightly larger version

After the obligatory morning errands I hopped on my bike with the idea of a long ride. I even had the route planned out and knew it would likely be a tough one. Next weekend my partner and I and another friend are running the Equinox Marathon as a relay. I've got the middle leg which is easily the toughest. My section climbs up Ester Dome from the very bottom, then does a six mile out and back on steeply rolling terrain. I haven't been on the whole leg in quite a while and figured using my bike would be a good way to scout the trail conditions for next weekend's race. The start of the leg is several miles from home so I took advantage of the trip there to make another run down some of my favorite single track. I climbed about 800 feet up Ester Dome through my usual trails, then had a fun descent through the forest. On the descent, I rode through swarms of these small black gnats. I'd come out of the clusters of them with bugs sticking to my shirt, shorts, leg hair, and popping of my helmet like a downpour of tiny raindrops. I have no idea what they are, but I'm darned glad I'm not squeamish because at times I had many hundreds crawling all over my body, tangled in my hair and squished like roadkill on my legs.

A nifty old miner's cabin.

When I hit the dirt road at the bottom of the first descent the bugs were gone and I didn't encounter them again. I cruised the dirt road to the pavement of Ester Dome Road and turned left up the mountain. At this point I joined my leg of the marathon course. The route climbed up the pavement for a half mile then turned off on a trail to the right which climbed steeply. So steeply in fact that I hiked the bike for a few hundred yards until the angle mellowed out again. Then up, up, up through the forest and into the now lightly falling rain.

This section was a granny-gear slog at a walking pace. Tedious. A little over half way up the mountain the trail re-joins the now dirt road and continues climbing. Eventually, in the growing mist I reached the first summit, zipped down the saddle and turned off on some narrow single track which winds through a steep climb to the dome's high point. This was the begining the Out and Back, a notorious rolling and frustrating part of the marathon route. It is about 3 miles one way on rutted, muddy and often rocky jeep trails and single track. Though rolling, it descends steadily for the three miles making the return even more grueling. Mid-way down a steep hill I passed the turnaround sign. For some reason I didn't turn and just kept descending down the fun trail for another 1/2 mile. It occurred to me then, wisely, that every foot I descended I'd have to return. So, reluctantly, I turned my bike around and headed back up the hill.

I was a dozen miles and 2500 vertical feet into the ride at this point and was starting to feel it. My heart rate was zipping along as I climbed back up at nearly 80% of maximum. I was getting, as the Brits say, knackered. The few descents gave me some relief, but they were all too short. At some point here, I disassociated and have little memory of the rest of the slog back up the hill until my gasping woke me from my daze a short distance from the summit. There I sped along the level ridge then plunged back down the rocky and fairly technical single-track back to the first summit. I decided to continue down the marathon trail despite the notorious chute which drops several hundred vertical feet off the summit in just a few hundred meters. Parts of this section are too steep and rocky for me, so I dismounted and walked the bike down. At the bottom of the chute the trail turns and skirts along the slope of the mountain. There my exhaustion left me as I released the brakes and flew along through the freshly fallen Aspen leaves. Mud and water flew up onto my face, making me grateful for the rain jacked I'd donned before the descent. In a few short minutes I was back on a dirt road. The last couple of miles were over in about five minutes as the road improved from dirt to pavement and stayed steep. Then, suddenly, still tired and exhilarated from the descent I pulled into my driveway, gasping.

19 miles and 3350 vertical feet of climbing. Whew.