North America

Name: 'Mount Evans'
Location: Front Range, USA
Height: 4310 metres

"Ninety-eight percent of the adults in this country are decent, hard-working, honest Americans. It's the other lousy two percent that get all the publicity… But then we elected them!"
- Lily Tomlin

It's all too easy to knock America these days; stereotyping 300 million people as fat, loud, insular, ignorant, poorly-travelled and 'stoopid' isn't something that I wish to be associated with. All of these stereotypes could be just as easily transferred, possibly with more accuracy, to the mass hordes of British men and women decending on the shores of Europe's beaches each summer.

I've visited New York, LA and San Diego on previous trips and thoroughly enjoyed myself. The people were incredibly welcoming and polite, and the boundless energy found within those cities is infectious. But it can't be denied that decades of an aggressive, destructive foreign policy have corroded the world's perception of this superpower - and unfortunately, to some extent mine too. But that's politics.

There's still a great deal to be admired in America and about the American spirit. To cut yourself off from the endless possiblities the place has to offer - not to mention the jaw-droppingly gorgeous landscapes - would be a poor decision indeed.

What's all this got to do with cycling up a mountain then? Well, nothing - so let's get back to the task in hand. 'Mount Evans', at 4310 metres (or 'meters' for our American cousins), is the highest paved road in North America. I plan to start the climb from the city of 'Idaho Springs'; roughly 30 miles north-east of Mount Evans. Have a look at the interactive map (below) for more detail. The climb itself looks fairly steady, with nothing steeper than a very manageable 7% incline (Compare this with a lactic acid-inducing 17% rise on the African Leg).

However, the considerable altitude and long length of the climb will ensure that by no means will this be a push-over. At altitudes over 14,000 feet, there'll be only ½ the amount of oxygen available compared to sea-level and even climbing a modest incline at this height has the capability to bring the human body to a grinding halt.

To spice things up a little further; subject to approval from my beautiful, caring and understanding wife - and from my ugly, mean-spirited bank manager, I plan to cycle to the start of the climb in Idaho Springs after a slightly circuitous detour. I have a once-in-a-lifetime route planned, that starts in San-Fransisco, takes in Sequoia National Park, Death Valley Park, Las Vegas, Lake Mead, The Grand Canyon and Glen Canyon before heading up to Colorado. It's about 1700 miles, and I'd aim to do it in just under a month. The proposed route would take me through an area called the 'Badwater Basin'. This eerie and desolate place located in California's Death Valley is 86 metres below sea-level and is the lowest point in the whole of North America.

Can you guess what I'm thinking. Ooohh can you? Yes, that's right; I'm hoping that I can make the North American Leg of the Continental Cycle Climb Challenge into a rather wicked sub-challenge of cycling between the extreme (road) elevations of Continental USA. The Badwater ultramarathon already exists and was conceived as being a long-distance run between the lowest and the highest points in the contiguous United States. However, as far as I'm aware, the cycling equivalent does not yet exist. I was thinking of calling the plan something suitably cheesy as the 'Death (Valley) to Heaven Bike Climb' or 'Base to Ace Challenge'. Who in their right mind could possibly resist such a well conceived and original plan? I can see the multi-million dollar corporate sponsorship rolling in already…

(New interactive route map with ride elevation coming soon…)