Everesting Attempted
Mount Greylock is the highpoint of Massachusetts at 3,491’
It’s been two weeks since the event I had been training for since January, Everesting. Everesting is a worldwide challenge where one attempts to gain the elevation of Mount Everest (29,032’) in one continuous ride/run/hike within a 24-hour period by repeatedly ascending and descending one hill until the cumulative elevation is reached. Three good buddies of mine and I decided late last year to go for it and to ride on the longest day of the year - June 21st. Our Grade A friend and expert mechanic, Magnus, generously offered to support us during the effort. We chose a hill we all know very well, and the tallest hill in Massachusetts, Mount Greylock (3,491’ tall).
The Summit of Mount Greylock at 4:01 AM, the top of lap 1
After carefully mapping out the elevation gain for each ascent from a starting point that made sense for us, we learned that we’d gain about 2,150’ over the 6 or so miles up. This meant we would need to complete nearly 14 laps up and down to reach the goal. While moving at a steady but not aggressive pace, one full lap up and down could be completed in just over an hour with about 50 minutes up and 15 minutes down with a short layer break at the top and a refuel stop at the bottom. If we maintained that pace for all 14 laps, we could be done in about 16 hours. Woof.
After verbally committing to this ride, I spent the latter half of winter and all spring riding my bike 5-6 days and 8-12 hours per week. It started on the trainer while the weather was cold and not ideal. I have never trained for anything diligently in my life until this - it was hard. It was more time than I would choose on my own to ride my bike and I don’t know if I would do it again. I knew going into the training that it would be a lot of riding and I appreciated the structure and clear goal this challenge provided. I credit White Lotus and adventure cycling YouTube videos for getting me through the long rides on the trainer and our in-house coach Conor for keeping me on track.
Throughout the spring, I rolled through periods of frustration with the sheer volume of biking. I knew my fitness in most every other activity was lacking and I began questioning why I was doing this in the first place. There still lingers some fatigue from all the riding on #EyesUpRide. I also felt no attachment to the outcome of this challenge: accomplishing the Everesting challenge was second to simply being together with my friends doing something outrageous and having fun. Still, I didn’t want to be the weakest link when the big day showed up.
With a solid training plan and a coach for accountability in place, I noticed marked improvements in fitness when I was on the road and could ride for hours and hours at a steady pace with minimal fatigue. Feeling fit made the hours on the bike well worthwhile.
The base of our Everesting segment and refuel spot courtesy of Magnus
I arrived to Williamstown, Massachusetts (home of Mount Greylock) at the end of May to work for a few weeks at the summer camp I worked at for years. At the end of my first week in town, I biked five laps of the segment on Greylock we would ride 14 times just two weeks later. This took me about six hours - a long time, but I felt good and wasn’t exhausted afterwards. Accomplishing these five laps was a huge mental hurdle for me to jump as I had never done more than one lap of Greylock in one ride. Five laps was also over 10,000’ of elevation gain, a number I had only tallied in one ride a handful of times prior. It felt good.
With just one week before the solstice and the Everesting attempt, I caught a nasty cold and was under the weather right up until two days before the attempt. Obviously, this was not ideal timing. I managed to take care of myself and take enough vitamin c to kick most of the symptoms by the Monday before riding on Wednesday and felt pretty good but was definitely not 100%. Despite not feeling perfect physically, my legs still felt strong and the excitement of having four great friends in one place helped me stay positive and excited.
When the day arrived, our alarms went off at 1:45 am for a 3:05 start. None of us slept much the night before with the comically early wake and pre-event jitters. We did our best to shovel dino egg oatmeal, bananas, and coffee in our mouths before hopping in the pre-packed minivan to drive to the gate. Enya serenaded us on the drive there and Conor made a lap counter on a whiteboard for our support station to keep track of our progress.
At 3:06, we started climbing our first lap of Greylock in pure darkness. We each had handlebar-mounted lights beaming a path forward and the adrenaline of the morning kept spirits and energy high. We were actually able to talk and laughed about how goofy and awesome this whole thing was. Along the way, porcupines crossed the road around us and we heard other creatures of the night in the woods alongside the road. With no cars around at this our, Mount Greylock was ours for this lap. It was beautiful.
We were greeted with a thick fog at the summit that lingered for most of the morning that created an eerie and quite cool atmosphere to punctuate each lap. We realized early on some differences in pacing within our group. With so much riding ahead of us, it didn’t make sense to spend energy working to stick together. Jeff cruised steadily behind while Conor paced Matt and me at what he believed to be a sustainable pace for the three of us. I could tell that I was pushing harder than I should have been just to keep up, but I didn’t want to fall behind. I checked my heart rate on the summit push of the third lap and I was steadily at about 170 bpm - way too high for a 16+ hour effort. I felt pretty good still despite the exertion and hung on. The three of us rode 6 laps and gained over 13,000’ together.
On lap 7, I was behind Matt and Conor almost immediately. My overall positive physical and mental state was declining - my stomach hurt, I didn’t want to eat. The thought of stuffing one more bar or gel or pouch of apple sauce into my mouth was nauseating. I felt off and it was something I had never felt before. I also was getting pretty horrible chafing while in the saddle. Every time I shifted my position on my seat stung. Self-doubt had crept in my brain and planted a flag. I wanted to quit, big time. For the entirety of laps six and seven, my mind was incessantly churning through the same questions: Why am I doing this? This is not fun, Why keep going? You don’t care about the result and you feel horrible, why risk a mistake on the descent that you can’t undo?
When I reached the summit of lap seven, halfway, it was 12:30 PM. Matt and Conor had kindly waited about 5 minutes for me to arrive. We had some friends show up at the top with fresh deli wraps and words of encouragement. What would usually fire me up and keep me going, I wasn’t having it. I couldn’t eat anything and stuffed the wrap in my jersey pocket. One of our friends, Tom, offered some guidance while we sat: “The descent is dangerous. If you’re feeling out of it or like you might not be able to get down safely, just stop.” He also pointed out that since we had been riding since 3 AM and we had just hit halfway, it would be at least another nine hours of riding before we were done. He verbalized what had been rolling around in my head for the last three house. What would another nine hours of riding mean from a risk perspective? Is it worth it?
At the bottom of lap seven, I did my best to drink water, eat something, and get ready to go. But I was over it. I didn’t want to talk to anyone and felt like absolute garbage. I was fixated on what Tom told us at the top before we descended. I pedaled out of the parking lot and got to the gate and broke down in tears. The pressure, exhaustion, excitement, risks, heat, cumulative mental churn, and dozens of other factors had overwhelmed me. I told Conor and Matt that I couldn’t keep going. They were incredibly supportive and told me to sit out one lap, sit in the shade and sip water and eat, and see how I felt when they got back down.
I hung out with Magnus at the bottom for the next hour while Conor, Jeff, and Matt continued on their way. I still did not feel good, and was devastated by the prospect of another nine more hours of riding up a mountain. This was the end of the attempt for me. I pushed through one more lap when another good friend of ours, Jonathan, joined in for a lap, but that felt more ceremonial than anything. Oddly enough, I had some of the most fun on that last lap when the pressure of finishing had been lifted. We were spending an entire day doing something we enjoy in a spectacular setting - what a privilege and joy.
At the end of the day, coach Conor and rising talent in the gravel racing world completed the challenge at 9:15 PM. Matt completed a staggering 25,000’ of climbing. Jeff rounded out the day with an impressive 8 laps. Combined, our crew gained nearly 90,000’ of elevation in one day. We capped the day with pizza and much needed sleep. And boy did that feel good.
The day after this marathon of riding, I packed and traveled home to Connecticut for 10 hours to unpack and repack for a summer out west. I flew first thing the next morning out to Oregon, from where I write this post. As soon as I woke up the day after the ride, I checked my WHOOP recover score and I had managed a 38% recovery and felt frustrated with myself. Despite all my concerns about my health and pushing myself harder than I thought to be advisable, my body recovered well and quickly from the 100 miles and 16,500’ feet ride the day prior. In the moment, I think I made the right choice by stopping. I do think some cards were left on the table.
With more time having passed, I feel a bit more at peace with how things went. It’s easy to forget how we feel in moments of difficulty and look back and think of how easy it could have been to keep pushing. Who knows, it may have actually been doable if I went beyond that threshold of discomfort. It could have also resulted in a serious injury. There are a lot of what ifs still floating around. Throughout training, during the ride, and now afterward, I try to remind myself of the why.
Check out the Strava activity from the ride to see more! Click the image to view.
The why is at the root of everything we do and having clarity on the why early on helps to stay present and prevents distraction that can tarnish an experience. It was hard to stop riding while my friends kept going. I wanted to be on the same playing field as everyone and make it to the end. But that was never my why. I don’t care about being able to say I accomplished the Everesting challenge. I spent a day with some awesome people doing a really cool (and in some ways silly) thing and climbed a heck of a lot more on a bike in one ride than I ever had before. I also learned that I am in fact stronger than I think and was reminded that our brain quits long before our bodies.
So with all of this in mind, will I try this again? I have no idea. Part of me wants to because I know I can. Part of me knows how monotonous and time consuming an effort like this was and asks why? If I do, I know that I am physically capable of it if I actually want to do it. I’ve been alone on my bike a whole lot in the past two years and I have a sneaky feeling I’d do better at a challenge like this if I were on my own and doing it more on my terms. Time will tell.
Stay tuned for a video of the day coming out later this summer - subscribe to the newsletter so you don’t miss it!
As always, thank you for reading and stay safe out there!
-Ben Grannis
#EyesUp
