The sky breathed fire today.
No, I didn’t go see the volcano. I biked from Waikoloa to Hawi and back. Done correctly, this is almost exactly 56 miles, half the Ironman route; I added a few curlicues, making over 60. My memory of the course is that the worst spots for me, the ones which are the crux of the ride, lie between Kawaihae and Hawi, and again between Waikoloa and the Donkey Crossing. I know these places names mean little to most people, so I’ll try to describe.
The Ironman bike ride starts innocently enough, with a little out and back section in town up Kuikini, then back down, through town by the back door up to the Queen K highway. (Everyone calls it the Queen K. While Kamehameha – the King who united the Islands and chose Kailua bay, specifically where the pier now is, as his palace site – is easy enough to say and spell, his wife, Ka’ahumanu, has a less memorable moniker.) This road runs upland a bit, meandering between 100 and 400 feet above sea level, with deep black volcanic asphalt paving, and mostly 50-200 year old lava flows for scenery. We follow this road for 34 sun-drenched, windy miles, then turn left and right through Kawaihae, the port where the Big Island gets all its cargo.
Twenty-one more miles take us to Hawi, where we turn around, about 64 miles into the race. For me, this really is the most treacherous section. Usually in an Ironman ride, I can pay exclusive attention to my pedaling and effort level. On this bit, however, I face three enemies, who combine to pull me out of my game. First, I ride this section from about 10:45-1:00 PM, with the sun at its zenith. The first 15 miles head northwest, so the sun is baking my left side and reflecting off the lava cut walls to my right. Also, there are incessant short sharp hills here, conspiring against consistency of effort. With the dormant volcano Kohala to the northeast, the trade winds slam into us sideways, magnified each time we enter an exposed section after a road cut through a hillock.
Then, just when I have all the enjoyment of riding beaten out of me by the sun, wind and rolling hills, the road starts rising relentlessly from 150’ to 650’, and turns right, into the wind, for the last 7 miles to the little town of Hawi. To emphasize the point, at this right turn, there is the Upolu wind farm, with half a dozen of those gigantic three-bladed wind turbines. Uphill, into a 20 mph wind, with no end in sight, is not confidence builder.
Turn around, and the first three miles are a joy. Slight down hill, wind at my back, I run out of gears and coast at over 30 mph. Short-lived, as the upcoming left turn shifts the wind from my back to my left side, and full of gusts, all while going down hill. Time trial bikes are not meant to be stable; they are meant to go fast, and in a straight line. They do not like side winds, and neither do I. Bigger riders are more stable, but at 174 pounds total weight for me and my fully loaded bike, I skitter along like some crazed ant hot on a pheromone trail. At my age, I do not relish the thought of falling and quite possibly breaking my hip, so each little shove from the cross winds sends a shot of adrenaline through me, sapping my inner strength, depleting my reserves.
To make things worse, today I decided to try out my aero helmet. There’s no question this contraption makes me faster; I’ve got the times to prove it’s probably worth 2-3 % time reduction, or 10+ minutes in an Ironman. Problem is, this thing makes me look like the spawn of a human, and Sigourney Weaver’s Alien. I don’t mind that – after all, the geek factor of biking on a TT bike, with flat handlebars, deep dish wheels, and absurdly contorted riding position is already quite high. But going through those side winds, the helmet tail felt under a lot of pressure, torquing my neck muscles, and adding one more little knot of fear to the whole experience.
So, no, I don’t particularly like riding from Kawaihae to Hawi and back. Especially knowing that what follows next (after a nasty little climb out of town), is the open face sandwich of baking lava and searing winds facing me past Waikoloa. I will ride that portion tomorrow, and give a quick report. And, I’ll try my regular helmet, and see if it (a) is cooler (notice NO VENTS on the Spiuk) and (b) less of a trauma in the wind. There’s a reason this race has banned disk wheels – imagine a solid wheel in that side wind.
While yesterday was cloudy, with drops of rain in the afternoon, and a hidden sunset from haze and low-lying clouds flung off Hualalai’s (another dormant volcano, the one outside of town) shoulder, today was the opposite – no clouds down here at all, and a “perfect” sunset, orange disk plopping into the Pacific horizon line with no impediments whatsoever. With a hundred or more Hawaiian sunsets in my resume, I find I prefer the ones with scattered layers of clouds for the orb to pass behind, and then melt the sky with bruised purples, reds and oranges during and after the actual setting. Even so, a picture is in order.