Tall Skinny Old Guy: GO TO MAUI.

GO TO MAUI.

Do it, just go. Take your family, take your bike, and go to Maui. I did just that a few weeks ago, at the height of Vancouver’s cold snap (if you can call -10 a cold snap). Being lucky enough to visit Maui on a number of occasions, I knew just how easy of a trip it is. Once the family and the bike is packed, it’s clear sailing from the moment the plane hits the tarmac, figuratively speaking of course.

For those unfamiliar, Maui is a small, hour-glass shaped Island, defined by the mountains of the Ioa Valley on the west, and the infamous Haleakala Volcano to the east. Routes are somewhat limited by Vancouver standards; go around the mountains, a la West Loop, or go around the mountains, a la East Loop, or hit the mountains proper. Having checked off Haleakala on my last visit, I chose to forgo the 50km climb and enjoy the more rolling terrain the Island has to offer.

With a little help from my two year old son, the Ghost Race Lector was built up and ready to hit the roads of Maui. I’m antsy and can’t wait to slap on the sunscreen and feel the tropical heat on my pale skin. But first, a quick FaceBook check. Mmm-hmmmm, I see half of Vancouver’s riding community is also in Maui. After working the phone, texting everyone that’s on the Island, a ride is planned. We’ll head out of Kula, around the East Loop in a counterclockwise direction along the Piilani Highway. We roll out in dark weather, rain pounding the rental car. Everyone jokes that it’s like driving to the Spring Series races in Vancouver – not fun, this is supposed to be Hawaii! The saving grace for us is that the temperature is an acceptable 20 degrees – kinda like riding in a warm shower. Off we go.

Rolling out from Kula, the road takes us down about 1,000m to the ocean, passing some of the most breathtaking scenery I’ve ever encountered, in a twisty, roll-coaster ride. Once we hit sea level, the road is less ‘maintained,’ potholes and stutter-bumps are the norm, rather than the exception. The driving rain, together with the hurricane-like head wind is making this ride…..memorable, for lack of a better word. Being pummeled by the wind and rain, we seek shelter at a local church (built in the late 1800s!).

IT. AIN’T. STOPPING. The desire to ride another 40km (and back) to Hana is quickly evaporating among us. We decide to regroup and call it a day. We’re tough, but not dumb. Conditions were brutal to say the least. Home, jeeves. Pronto.

More texting. Let’s do the West Loop once the weather improves. For those that have never done the West Loop of Maui, it just might be THE most scenic ride I have ever done – and I’ve done a LOT of riding. Starting in Wailea, the 130km route runs clockwise, through Kihei, Lahaina, Kanapali, Napili and beyond. Initially flat and fast – and if you time it well, a tailwind assists you all the way to Lahaina –from where the roads starts to pitch and roll, twist and turn like a rowboat in the ocean. Ride it hard, or ride it at a sedate pace, challenges abound. Such an amazing ride. Look left and see an endless number of whales breaching! Please, if you go to Maui, promise yourself 4 hours of absolute pleasure. You’ll rediscover the love of riding and remember the route forever, I promise you.

East Loop, check. Kind of.

West Loop, yep. Check. Definitely, check.

One of the local Bike Shops in Kihei organizes a weekly Wednesday morning ride; pace can be sedate or more often, brisk. Last year, I had the good fortune to roll with Axel Merckx on this ride. On arriving at 7am, I say hello to an inordinate number of familiar Vancouverites. Of the 25 riders, 23 were from Canada, 22 of the 23 Canadians were from Vancouver or Whistler. Of the 22, I probably have raced with 20. Sheesh, I thought this was a getaway! Off we go, destination, Ioa Valley State Park, a gorgeous route up the spine of the Island, then into the Mountains proper. Pace was hot going out, and only heated up as we hit the climbs. ZING. Right, now I remember these little whipper-snapper Cat 1 racers. Billygoats. We regroup, I catch my breath, and head to the far end of the Island, through the surf town of Piaia, then start climbing again, up to Willy Nelson’s adopted hometown of Makawao. Somewhere along the line, a racer from Italy joins our paceline. Unfortunately, every time he gets to the front, he needs to assert his strength, and the pace jumps to 50km/h (no exaggeration). Yargh, go have a cappuccino my friend. Stopping for refreshments in Makawao momentarily, we hit the road back home, and enjoy a fantastic coffee among friends at the end.