Gran Canaria Diaries Day 3: December 5th

Dia-mond: Pronounced - dahy-muhnd

Definition:
1) A pure or nearly pure, extremely hard form of carbon, naturally crystallised in the isometric system.
2) With respect to a bicycle route or ride, a true gem and as hard as they come.

I decided to head west on the GC500 to massage the legs back into action this morning. Making use of the favourable tailwind made a lot of sense and even at 9am there was warmth in the air signaling a great start to the day. I’d mapped out a good route the night before but no sooner had I passed the sandy beach of Puerto Rico my mind was wandering and considering other options. Initially I was going to ride to Mogan and then take the GC601, up a tough climb to the GC605 and along a ridge line to Ayacata. The closer I got to the turn off the faster my mind was working to decide if I’d stick with the plan or if today was to be, as the downhiller’s of this world like to call it, a freeride.

I breezed on past the turn and at that split second knew that the day would be all the harder for it. I’ve ridden along the GC200 towards San Nicolas a few times so I know it’s not particularly easy, but that wasn’t the problem. Meander your way through town and pick up the GC210, this is where your problems may start. I know this road intimately. You never forget a killer and seldom look for repeated beatings unless held at gun point or worse. I remember reading my notes from a former trip and highlighting my thoughts with regards to this road. Today was different, the conditions were about as good as you could expect in December, I admit there was no gun to my head but a voice inside questioning my stamina. It needed silencing.

The road surface is anything but perfect and although picturesque reservoirs line the route it’s the series of serpentine style switch backs where things start to hurt. Don’t be fooled by the first section, these are just a warm up for what’s in store as you climb up and over the Pressa del Parrallilo damn. Shortly after this you reach a turn for El Carrizal, without doubt one of the hardest roads you’ll find on the island. I rode this a couple of years ago with a 39 tooth chainring, plus headwind, and nearly blew both knee caps clean off!

Today I was to stick to the GC210, the easy way out I hear you say, well guess again. It’s the longer way and in some respect equally as hard with sections close to 20% gradient. For those non believer’s amongst us, I managed to get a quick picture at one of the hardest parts. Now remember this 1) the Super G-705 GPS unit doesn’t lie and 2) to get a gradient reading you need to be moving. So I admit the photo’s not going to win any Canon amateur photography awards but you have to appreciate that riding a beaten up road at 17% gradient, one handed, and trying to focus the camera on the Garmin screen, avoid any potholes and remain upright is not a particularly easy task. The funny thing was, at the very moment I took the photo a guy dressed top to toe in Felt team kit with matching bike, equipped with power meter, came past. He gave me a look as if to say “what the hell are you playing at”. I didn’t warm to his expression. Hey, a kid’s got to get his holiday shots you know!

Well I put my camera back in its case and made sure ‘old Felty’ was well and truly out of sight. I could see him glancing over his shoulder on each hairpin as he made his way into the distance. Now that’s one thing you just don’t do. It’s all very well passing someone but once you have done you never look back. If you do, it means trouble. I was actually having one of those seldom days where you don’t seem to feel your legs, hence snapping pictures on a 17% gradient. Turning the 34 tooth over at 85rpm on a climb like this is dangerously effective. I had him back in sight much sooner than I’d anticipated and even surprised myself how quickly I was making it around the hairpins, almost to the point where you can freewheel momentarily and let the momentum take you through the corner. Climbing like that is an incredible feeling. When you have the right rhythm it’s effortless. I gave a look of “easy soldier, you're making hard work of that aren’t you?” as I passed. I was keen for a Cannondale vs Felt battle royale on the slopes of the GC210 but unfortunately it didn’t happen. To my disappointment I never saw him again.

After 25k’s of solid climbing I was once again in good company, my attempts to distance myself from this shady character had come to nothing with him matching me pedal stroke for pedal stroke every step of the way. At Artenara I followed the GC21 to the GC220. This side of the island has a different feel to it. I like the rolling roads with views of the sea and smell of eucalyptus and pine forests. To get to these parts it always means a hearty ride, if starting from the south, which in turn makes it all the more satisfying when you’re there. As I headed towards Fontanales to join the GC70 I could see that parts of the mountain ahead were in cloud cover. It was an awesome sight to see the cloud rolling up from the valley almost like it had come from the pits of hell. I felt a little anxious as I knew I’d have to ride into the cloud en route to Cruz Tejeda and was hoping it wouldn’t be too cold. To my amazement, and luck, the cloud felt warm. It was comforting and gave me a sense of security, like being wrapped in a blanket. It was so thick that it made visibility very difficult but as I climbed above it suddenly my vision became crystal clear, the sky piercing blue and air pure. The sight of the mountain tops sneaking a cheeky look above the cloud was truly spectacular although I knew it wouldn’t last as I had to descend back into the cloud en route to the GC600 where I had a 7km descent past Rouge Nublo to the direct lifeline that is the GC60 back to Maspalomas.

It was eerie, descending with poor visibility adds yet another adrenalin kick. Normally if I’m riding with people I take a little more caution. It’s not fair to expect a mate to scrape you up off the road if you get it wrong. On your own the buzz comes from finding the limit whilst knowing there’s nobody there to scrape you up. From the start of the GC600 it’s pretty much all descending to the apartment, some 40 odd kilometers. I started my downward spiral as Leftfield 'Rhythm & Stealth' hit the top of the playlist. Volume maxed, some call it the zone, I refer to it as my world. Some days I’m happy to carve effortlessly down a descent, other days I want to nail every turn like it’s my last. This was one of those other days. My sub conscious state of mind was relaying split second information to my body with no room for error. “Come on, get up to speed, you can go faster, that’s it now you’re flying, right hand hairpin approaching, glance over shoulder, nothing behind, swing to left of road, sit up, flick wrist to shift up the block, hard on the brakes, harder(!!) you’re never going to slow in time, christ the roads are damp, hold the line, come on, hold it, don’t bottle it, gotta hit the apex, lean forward, lower shoulder and centre of gravity, pressure on the outside crank, pray to god nothing’s coming the other way, roll through, straighten up, out of the saddle, back on the power, come on, full speed, left hand sweeping bend ahead, nothing coming, glance over shoulder, gotta skim that barrier, you can pedal through this one, damn that pedal’s close to clipping the road, made it, straighten up, full power…" Turn after glorious turn the process is repeated, each time the adrenalin reaches a higher level. Oh what a perfect way to end the day and what a day it turned out to be. 4,350m of elevation and close to 9 hours in the saddle. I’m sure you’ll agree, a diamond in every respect.

For Day 3 GPS info click here