Nine years ago I flew in from San Diego to attend a sports officials conference in Denver. I rented a bike in Idaho Springs and rode to the summit of Mount Evans. My legs were like Jello and I said I would never do this ride again. Once was enough. Until today.
The last couple of years I was curious what the effect of riding a week about 10,000 feet may do to my ability. So this year I did it.
The section from Idaho Springs to Echo Lake
I went to Idaho Springs with this new found fitness level. And my own bike. I remember in 2007 that I could not drink enough water. Although my plans were to include bringing a Camelbak, I forgot that at home. But I did throw two extra bottles of water in a backpack which I wore.
The section from Idaho Springs to Echo Lake
It was near 70 degrees (20 C) when I left the parking lot at Idaho Springs at 8:00 a.m. The first 14 miles are relatively easy, well the first seven miles are definitely easy. And I was taking it easy. I was reliving the events of last week’s Ride the Rockies when I was startled by Mike from Kansas City passing me at Mile 8. Initially going as far as Mile 11, I convinced him to ride to Echo Lake (Mile 14) and we chatted the whole way.
Entrance to Mount Evans Road at Echo Lake
There was a line of cars waiting to enter the Mount Evans Auto Road. I joined two other cyclists talking about the admission fee ($3) when a ranger came and told us that we didn’t have to wait and just to go on in. Sweet deal.
14 Miles to the Summit
We started up the road together but after taking one photo I pulled over. My phone said that memory was full and I stopped to delete photos to free up some space. I would be rewarded for that.
About two miles up the road I saw a bear amble across the road. I could not react quickly enough to photograph him but the road cut through a hillside. The bear came from the lower section, crossed the road, then continued up the hillside into the trees.
Echo Lake
I did not have the benefit of a Garmin tracking my ride nine years ago. I would be curious to know how this ride compared. Maybe not well.
I wanted to keep my heart rate low. I did. About three hours in Zone 1, 23 minutes in Zone 2, and I never went into Zones 3, 4, or 5. To say I didn’t push myself would be an understatement.
But I just kept my pace steady. I tried at times not to look too far in the distance because all I could see was the road cutting through the rocks ahead. I won’t say I remember every turn from nine years ago but much of it was familiar.
Switchbacks near the summit
However, one section I misremembered was Summit Lake. When I approached it it was nothing like I had pictured except it was still on my right. The road dipped down more than I remembered and the lake wasn’t at all how I pictured it.
Summit Lake
The climb is a slog. It just keeps going and going. Above the tree line the road is paved but the freezing caused whole sections to buckle. It’s not bad going up because of the low speed but makes for a rough ride coming down.
Mountain goats at the summit
Nine years ago I tried to pedal out of the saddle (standing up) and immediately sat down. I got dizzy quickly. Today I could stand with no issues. I think one week of riding at altitude made that easier for me. But yet, I think I was slower. One week at altitude may not offset 20 pounds and nine years.
At the summit I took a couple of pictures then left. I had intended of staging my arrival by handing my phone to a stranger then going back down 200 yards or so then coming back up. But really, there is no great summit moment. Just a parking lot that people are trying to get into.
Nine years ago I went hypothermic on the descent. Today I carried a vest and arm warmers and that was enough. I was glad to have them but would have been okay without.
Tried to capture how steep the drop off is but I didn’t. Trust me. It’s steep.
Leaving the summit, the first five miles aren’t a lot of fun. Visually it’s hard to see how steep the road descends. At times it looks like it may go down 1-2% but is probably 6-7%. The bike wanted to fly. But every 50-100 yards was a big crack in the road. Those aren’t fun hitting at 25-30 mph.
At Summit Lake there is a bit of a climb. It was no problem this time although a 28 mile downhill uninterrupted would have been nice. The farther you descend the better the road gets.
Beautiful Idaho Springs
Once back to Echo Lake I had a 14 mile descent on beautiful pavement. I took off my vest and warmers because the temperature at 10,600′ was a balmy 75 degrees. From there I let it roll all the way back to Idaho Springs.
Nine years ago this was a major accomplishment. Today, it was just another ride. But a ride in which I saw a bear.
Seven years ago I received a message from a 17 year-old referee wanting to officiate in the WAGS Tournament. Thus my friendship began with Vanessa Beltran. When she was in DC she told me about the Texas 4000.
My affection for and affiliation with the Texas 4000 has grown from that day. Today was the day for me to ride from Denver to Boulder with the Texas 4000.
I arrived before their dedication circle. I met my “Bicycle Buddy,” Ayesha Kang. Or I met her again, since I actually met her in October in Austin at the Livestrong Challenge.
Dedication Circle
I dedicated my day to Jacob Grecco, Alex Shepherd, and Jamie Roberts.
I was assigned an all womens’ group, Ayesha’s group. Out of the 20 riders, 13 were women and only seven were men.
They had the turn by turn directions and I was only along for the ride. We stopped a lot. And we stopped at stop signs, even when it was visibly clear to roll through. One of the riders made it a point to state that the Texas 4000 stops at stop signs. I can also state that they have extensive safety training, have to ride a timed century and ride at least 2000 miles before they ride their first mile with the Texas 4000. This group does it right.
Ayesha now rides for Team Jacob
We meandered. Back tracked. But it was all good. We only had gone 15 miles when we came to their rest stop. One of the riders, Alex Lawrence, had family in Denver and brought out a big lunch. Her family was very proud of her to to serve the Texas 4000.
Alex Lawrence’s family
After lunch, I wanted to keep riding with the group but I knew there was no way I would ever find my way back. I said goodbye to Ayesha and the rest of her team. We had two alumni riders and two friends who rode out with us so I jumped in their group to ride back.
We did not back track. Maybe that was impossible. But we found a new, longer way. Life is good. At the Cherry Creek Dam in Denver, we stopped to wait for our riders. The Denver Century was being held and there was an Aid Station right where we stopped. We got some fresh cold water for our bottles, needed on this hot day. They didn’t seem to mind that we weren’t part of the Denver Century.
For one day I joined this cancer fighting team. It was a great day. Godspeed my friends.
On its sixth and final day, RTR will return to Northern Colorado with their eyes set on Devils Gulch and Horsetooth Reservoir; a stage originally planned for 2012 but rerouted by the High Park Fires. Cyclists will enjoy a 55-mile trek through Larimer County, touring the vibrant communities that not long ago were hammered by relentless rain and devastating floods. Now, standing tall as ever; a testament of community, will and grace; these towns are primed and ready for a parade of cyclists. The week will draw to a close as 2,000 friends – new and old –reflect and rejoice at Odell Brewing Company in a little town we fondly call Fort Fun!
One week goes by too fast. Hard to believe this is the last day of Ride the Rockies.
I left the Comfort Inn and went back to RTR headquarters. I noticed a number of riders were just jumping on course and going without going back to RTR headquarters, and who could blame them? But I rode uphill and went to the official start line, not to be pure in my ride but simply to meet my riding partners.
David and Christine were at the start. I sort of ignored the actual profile believing, as I told them, that we had a 20 mile downhill followed by a mostly flat run-in to Fort Collins. I was partly right. We had a 20 mile downhill.
Looking at Estes Park with the Rocky Mountain National Park in the background.
We rolled down through Big Thompson Canyon. It was here in 1976 that a flash flood killed 143 people. The canyon is gorgeous and made for a nice descent to Loveland.
It was a perfect ride except when we were in the lowest part of the canyon. At first it appeared the highway department was doing some road work but it became more apparent that a truck hauling asphalt came by and was dropping asphalt. There was a stream of asphalt in the west bound lane. Although we were going east, the cars were trying to avoid it and black tar covered pebbles were flying towards us in our lane. Yuck.
Big Thompson River
We turned on Buckhorn Road for a back road ride to Fort Collins. I expected a flat or maybe “lumpy” finish. This was anything but that. We stopped at Aid Station 2 where Christine caught up with her brother, Don, who joined us for a bit.
We came to the Horsetooth Reservoir. There were three sections that appeared to be spillways but I think they were just dam retaining walls. All were close to the water and then featured a neat little climb up away from the water.
The last climb of the week
These were some of the steepest grades we had all week. Many people were walking. (Not us, of course.)
But what comes up .. must come down. On the last hill, I saw a really nice descent. I let it go. I was quickly up to 51 mph, my top speed of the week when I saw a 35 MPH speed limit sign and two policemen. Oh well. If they were busting cyclists on this descent they had me. I just got down lower in my tuck and rolled by. And waved.
Random finishers
The roll in through Fort Collins was nice. This is a very pretty city. We continued to O’Dell’s Brewery where the finish line festivities were being held.
This guy was on a bike all week (hand-cycle). Impressed!
My car was in a lot next to the finish. Had I had my keys with me I could have put the bike away. Instead, I had to retrieve my luggage from Alpine Cycling and take all of it to the car. Then I went back for Terry Moran’s bike. He had gone home on Tuesday but Alpine moved his bike to Fort Collins so I could take it home.
A hotdog, or bratwurst, to celebrate
After the ride I searched out the Smoothie folks for one last Smoothies. I found a Polish Sausage to celebrate then waited for the closing ceremonies. I didn’t win the bike but heard some facts about the ride: Youngest rider was nine; Oldest was 82. Every state except West Virginia was represented. Ten countries were represented as well.
We crossed the finish line together
Throughout the week we passed some amazing cyclists. I saw a blind cyclist – hopefully he was stoker on a tandem. There are always some hand cyclists, often with Ride to Recovery. There is a guy I met two years ago who has no hands – just prosthetic hooks. Since he can’t brake using hands, he has a “butt brake” where he slides back on the saddle and it applies pressure on a bar connected to a braking system. Then there was “Tim.” He rode a recumbent hand-trike. No legs, and one functioning arm plus as prosthetic arm. Absolutely amazing.
It was a good week and a good ride to end the week. Let’s do this next year!
The day started out beautiful. Terry Moran and I left our hotel in Brighton, Colorado for the one-hour drive north to Fort Collins for the start of my 4th Ride the Rockies.
I-70 (by bus) in Glenwood Canyon
Arriving Fort Collins, we were directed to a parking lot across from the Odell Brewing Company, which was the official ending point of RTR. We loaded our bikes on a truck and then boarded a bus for transport to Carbondale, the official start town of Ride the Rockies.
I-70 West
The bus headed south to Denver then picked up I-70 and took that west. We had secured front-row seats on the bus and had awesome vistas. I had traveled as far as Idaho Springs before but that was the farthest west I had been on this highway.
Carbondale, Colo.
This was my first time through the Eisenhower Tunnel and the view was spectacular. We went over Vail Pass and I was marveling at the bike path that was sometimes next to I-70. We followed I-70 through Glenwood Canyon, truly an engineering masterpiece.
Our route took us to Glenwood Springs which looks like a nice place to visit someday. We went through Glenwood Springs and made our way to Carbondale. The sunny skies soon turned gray.
Logistically, Day 0 is always the toughest at RTR. We went to the registration tent and got our credentials. Then we took our luggage and boarded a bus to our hotel. After dropping the luggage off at the hotel and waiting 20 minutes for the rain to subside, we took a bus back to RTR headquarters and picked up our bikes. The rain had stopped.
I’m not sure what happened next. I told Terry I was going to go for a bike ride although I wasn’t leaving from the school. I had a backpack that I needed to offload. I followed a trail down to the hotel, stopping at a Subway for a sandwich to take back to the room.
With gray skies, I set out on my “explorer” route. I had studied some maps and had a general idea where I was headed but wasn’t entirely sure. I found the Rio Grande Trail which is a rail trail built on the old Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad. It connects Glenwood Springs with Aspen and runs 42 miles.
I followed the rail trail until it moved away from the main road. Then I jumped on the road and began climbing. I had planned to follow the road until I reach Crystal Springs Road but once I did I kept going instead. The road continued up and simply looked interesting.
A view from Panorama Drive
I came to a road called Panorama Drive. Who would want to follow that? Me, that’s who. I rode that for about five miles until I was back at the entrance. I then turned and found Crystal Springs Road. What a wild descent that was. All fun all the time. It was five miles of nothing but downhill. Glorious downhill.
Reaching Highway 82 I trusted my instincts and went left. Looking at a map later, right would have worked even better. But left got me seven miles instead of two back to the hotel. My instincts were a little off.
This simply allowed me to retrace some of the earlier route although I was confused about why I ended up there. But more riding. Back at the hotel, we got ready for an early night with an early rollout in the morning.
Lodging was at the Days Inn. Mostly good but the bathroom was extremely tiny. Ride the Rockies starts tomorrow!
The day began with meeting the Ride the Rockies bus at 6:00 a.m. for transport to Salida. I stayed in the Super 8 in Buena Vista and was pleasantly surprised the hotel had the breakfast nook open for us at 5:30 a.m. so that we could grab something to eat.
After retrieving my bike from the bike corral and pumping the tires. My rear tire, set up as tubeless, has been losing 40 psi per day but that’s another story as we continue to dial it in. I followed five riders out to the street — US 50. I thought the five were a group.
We began so slowly that I thought of passing them but decided this would be a day to relax. Soon were rolling along in a pace line. A woman sat on my wheel and we had seven riders rolling along as one. It was cool with temperatures around 50°.
Arkansas River
After a few miles, I saw a gap opening between the third and fourth riders. If the gap opened up, the front three, my free ride, would be gone. In an instant I took off and passed the two riders, bringing the woman with me. Just like that, we were five riders again. And two of the original seven riders were dropped.
This was a perfect stretch to ride. It trended downhill and followed the beautiful Arkansas River. It was this segment we were supposed to do two years ago but missed due to the Royal Gorge Fire of 2013.
Recycle Tent at Aid Station
We rolled past the first rest stop although the woman stopped at that point. And we kept rolling. The front three were rotating and we picked up two more. I finally told them to let us do some work too. I moved to the front. By the time we reached the second Aid Station, we had covered 22 miles in 53 minutes. We flew. (Average 24.9 mph / 40 kph)
It was OPEN today to cyclists
I had eaten a Bratwurst on top of Cottonwood Pass yesterday and it just seemed like a good thing to do at Aid Station #3. Here I met Lori the Medic and rode with her. At one point we lost contact as I had stopped for a photo op but I caught her on the slopes to the Royal Gorge.
Royal Gorge Bridge
This was a steep climb. They called it “The Wall.” Colorado doesn’t have many steep climbs, just long and gradual, but this road was as though it was lifted from the Appalachians and dropped here. The road turned up quickly and lots of people were walking. It really wasn’t very hard although many people struggled with it. You all are invited with me to ride back East.
Royal Gorge Bridge
We got to the Royal Gorge. I rode across the deck – it is 1000′ down to the Arkansas River. I took a few photos and then left. The Medic had disappeared and I never saw her again.
Royal Gorge
After a little climbing out of the gorge, it was a seven-mile descent to Cañon City. I know because I rode this last year on my own. Three miles out of town the riders turned onto a road called Skyline Drive. I kept going straight on US 50. Not only was this an official alternate route I thought I might take a train ride if I got to town early enough.
Royal Gorge Bridge
I went to the train station looking for bike parking but didn’t see any. I wasn’t just going to leave my bike so I headed to Sonic. There I met Michelle Hancock, a rider with the “Naked” (sponsor) team. My friend, Lisa Smith, rides for them and said to tell them all hello. Michelle stared at me. She must have been thinking “worst pickup line ever.”
Skyline Drive
We were both feeling pretty good about finding the alternate way to town but when I had passed Skyline Drive I thought I might regret not turning on it. Before the turn, I pictured it as a parallel frontage access road. The gratification that I made the right choice soon turned to regret as I saw these riders climbing next to the road where I was descending.
I could see them climbing this hillside as I rolled down the road – they going up and I was going down. US 50 is a divided highway and there really wasn’t a safe turnaround option or I would have.
Skyline Drive – Credit: Facebook Page of Ride the Rockies
After lunch at Sonic and checking into America’s Best Value Inn, I decided I would ride back out on course and ride Skyline Drive. I did not regret it. What a hidden gem. It was about a three-mile uphill ride from the prison in Cañon City to the turn onto Skyline Drive. But from the top one could see valleys on either side. It is a one-way road and today it was closed to traffic.
After riding it I went back and rode it again. It was that fun. People were astonished to learn this was my third trip into town. My regret was not that I didn’t ride it the first time but that I didn’t go back for a third time.
My night would not go so well. My stay at America’s Best Value Inn two years ago had been nice. This time, my room, 134, smelled of smoke. I have a sensitivity to it – my eyes burn. They would burn all night.
I rolled away from the hotel and towards downtown. Horizon Drive was torn up as a milling and paving operation was going on. I rode this yesterday and knew of a great bike path that went a little out of the way. I jumped on it and wondered what the other cyclists thought of me flying past them all without trashing my bike.
Colorado National Monument Reminder to get rid of those hideous bib shorts
I arrived at the main location at Colorado Mesa University planning to attend Opening Ceremonies for Ride the Rockies. But riders were already rolling out so I joined them. We rolled out of town to Colorado National Monument. I started the climb only stopping for a (real) photo op or two.
Bighorn Sheep Crossing
I found myself riding beside Dave*, an anesthesiologist from Grand Junction. He was very friendly and a good rider. He spoke to me because I was wearing my Stelvio jersey. He had gone to Italy last summer. We also talked about prostate cancer. His older brother had PCa and chose brachytherapy as his treatment option. Things weren’t perfect with his choice. It seemed every treatment option for prostate cancer had some problems.
Dr. Dave was a medic for the tour. By volunteering, he got to ride for free but he also had to carry some extra weight. I asked him as an anesthesiologist how he would treat a ride that had crashed hard. He told me that he was prepared to put him to sleep. 🙂
On the descent, I pulled over for more pictures. What gorgeous views.
Tunnel
Down in the valley I rolled to the rest stop at Fruita. Here I ran into Don Sheppard, who was on my Trek Travel trip last summer in Italy. It was good to see him plus he introduced me to Nelson Vails, a silver medalist in the 1984 Olympics.
On the climb from Grand Junction
It was a flat roll back to Grand Junction. I caught Don and then paced him for a while. He eventually said he was going to take a break and we parted ways. It would be the only time all week I saw him on his bike.
Pulled off on the descent towards Fruita
Riding today was easy and beautiful. Not sure if I figured this out yet but I think RTR tries to choose the easier route when possible. We went clockwise and the Park Service had closed off vehicular traffic from 7:00 to 10:30 am.
Nelson Vails, Don Sheppard, Barry Sherry
As I descended to Fruita I thought that was a steeper grade than we had come up. But I am not sure. Often you don’t realize the steepness until you look back on your ride. And even then, I couldn’t tell.
Day 7 of Ride the Rockies brought mixed feelings. On one hand, I could ride here forever but on the other hand, it felt like it was time to stop. Scott Olson and I began our day by eating breakfast at McDonalds which opened at 5:00 a.m. (like they should have).
Navigating road furniture in Cañon City
Once out on the open road the two of us stayed together through Florence. As we were leaving, and I was missing some photo ops, we were joined by two, then three other riders including a medic. And we were flying.
Quick photo in Florence
We were on our bikes before 7:00 a.m. Even trending uphill, we might arrive at the finish by 10:00 a.m. Scott was all in to do that but I was not. He wanted to get there, tear down and pack his bike, grab his luggage and catch a noon bus to the Denver airport. I had no where to go except Hays, Kansas, after the closing ceremony.
Saw this bike today Maybe I should have bought one around 2000-2001
After doing a pull for our group, I moved aside and let them go. One rider saw me and drifted back briefly to pull me back in but I told them to go on. I was happy riding my own pace. Quite happy, in fact.
They picked up 50, then 100, then 200 meters on me. Then I quit watching. I shouldn’t have. Moments later I came upon a rider standing in the right lane of two motioning all cyclists into the travel lane and away from the shoulder. I saw a couple of riders down on the shoulder. I hoped it wasn’t Scott. But it was.
SAG wagons are bad. This one is worse.
I stopped as did a second medic (one of our riders in the group was a medic and immediately was administering first aid) and quickly did what I could which was to help direct oncoming cyclists away from the danger spot – an uneven open seam in the concrete highway.
The Colorado State Patrol, on motorcycles, quickly arrived and an ambulance was not far behind. I was able to help lift Scott to put the board underneath him and then onto the stretcher. We made plans for me to pick up his bike in Colorado Springs after it was SAGged there but that would not be necessary as RTR took care of that.
“SAG” driver
Scott and another rider went to the hospital and I was pretty shaken up. It was hard to ride after that.
Rooster. A Norwegian rooster perhaps.
In comparison to the crash that I narrowly avoided, the rest of the day was uneventful. I rode slowly just talking to spectators and riders. At the second rest stop one rider saw the Mount Washington Auto Road Hillclimb jersey and asked me if I actually did that race. We chatted. He told me that wanted to try it but thought it would be too hard.
Just married Don’t know where this relationship is going but they will get there faster on a tadem
After the second Aid Station, I was passed by Ron Kiefel and his sister, Erlinda. I joined them for a couple of miles, long enough to tell him I didn’t know how they could race on when a teammate goes down. It does leave one shaken. I was still shaken. But I wasn’t invited to join the two of them and soon let them go.
Colorado Springs – The End
A few pictures. A few more miles and then I arrived the finish line. It didn’t feel like an accomplishment although many people were celebrating it as such. Volunteers were handing out pins. For me, it was just over.
Beautiful views at the finish
I loved Ride the Rockies. I was asked by Lauren Hunt of the Davis Phinney Foundation to return next year and ride for them – a real honor to be sure. The memories I take are not of the riding although hard to beat a six-mile stretch off Wolf Creek Pass where I averaged 40 mph. But I will remember the people – Chris and Erin, the kayakers in Telluride; George Hincapie and Connie Carpenter; Bob Roll, the rider from Haymarket; a veterinarian from San Diego; an 8-year-old boy at Oak Lodge in Pagosa Springs; Lauren and Jenna from the Davis Phinney Foundation; Ron Keifel and his sister, Erlinda; the paraplegics riding with hand cranks; and Margaret and John riding with Parkinson’s. And many more that I have left off.
A standing ovation for the Colorado State Patrol arriving in Colorado Springs
This is one event, maybe the only event, that I can see myself returning to.
On paper, the first 24 miles were uphill including the last eight miles up Wolf Creek Pass, a climb with switchbacks that crosses the pass at 10,856′. It was a daunting profile.
Rolling out of Pagosa Springs viewing the San Juan River
It was cold – the usual 48℉. Or less. I only wore arm warmers to keep me warm. The temperature here in the high desert was very cool or cold in the morning and then 100℉ by noon.
My legs felt like crap. This was not a good omen for climbing. Despite the profile showing all climb it seemed like there was a lot of downhill and old men and old women were passing me.
On the road (U.S. 160) to Wolf Creek Pass
On the bus ride out on Saturday, the guy I sat with mentioned to me that recovery, or lack of it due to altitude, will show up in Day 4 and I wondered if that was going to dog me today. It seemed that way. But why not Day 2 or Day 3?
One rider said this ranch we passed sold for $90M during the real estate boom
I pulled into the aid station at Mile 16 which also signaled the start of the real climb. The first 15 miles averaged one percent. Not much of a climb but still a climb. After using the port-a-john, they were generally very clean throughout the tour, I started the climb. This didn’t scare me. I think.
I did not have the tools or perhaps the courage, to look at the climb portion on Wolf’s Head. We stayed at 7,000′ in Pagosa Springs and would climb to 10,857′. The average grade for the next 8.5 miles was 6.5%.
When the legs hurt you see these guys with hand cranks. RESPECT!
This was to be the climb of the week. I decided I would occupy my mind by making a game of it. I would count every rider that I passed and count every rider that passed me. And hoped that I passed more than passed me.
Lauren Hunt (middle) of the Davis Phinney Foundation Scott Olson and I shared a breakfast table with her this morning.
I just chugged away. It was 60 to six in favor of me passing riders. Then 102 to 10. I kept going. At the top, I was briefly passed by a rider but passed him back before the summit finish for no change. In the end, I was passed by 22 riders, including former pro Wayne Stetina. I passed 240.
The scenery was stunning. No pictures could capture it well. Maybe if I had stopped and took pictures I could have, but I wanted to keep climbing without pause.
Each day there was a designated Aid Station with a disk jockey or emcee. Today he was at the top of Wolf Creek Pass. He was having an egg shampoo contest which was a regular feature for him. Well, it was no contest. Just if anyone was willing to smash an egg on their head and rub it in, he would give them a t-shirt. It was most popular with men who shaved their heads.
The top of Wolf Creek Pass
With the climb over, the rest of the day should be easy. On the profile sheet the descent looked like a 68-mile downhill. It wasn’t.
The ride off the pass was wild. It wasn’t quite straight as an arrow, but nearly, and didn’t seem terribly steep. But it was long. The first six miles were the steepest but there was a good 14 miles or so before it leveled off.
Riders on the shoulder approaching the tunnel on U.S. 160
I rolled off the top of Wolf Creek Pass and got in a tuck. Volunteers were warning us to take it easy and all riders I saw were on the shoulder. I took the lane. At high-speed, I don’t like riding on shoulders because there is often debris there that isn’t in the travel lane.
No words
Although not terribly steep, when one has long straight roads even at six percent grade one can pick up speed and I did. I hit 54 mph – a new personal best, and when I felt a little shimmy in the bike I decided 54 was fast enough. As I came to a tunnel I was warned of high winds at the other end and briefly applied the brakes. Heck, I stopped to take a picture.
The first six miles over the pass I averaged a nifty 40 mph. If only all rides could be like this.
After the aid station at South Fork, Mile 44, I rolled out alone. It was getting hot, it would be in the low 90s, and it was windy. It was tough being out in the wind and a group of about 30, which violated the RTR rules of no more than five in a paceline, came by. The guy at the end invited me to join. I could not resist.
The train was driven by four Belgians — four Belgians that I had passed on the climb. But they knew how to ride in the wind and they drove this and gave everyone a free ride. I felt bad but being on 30th wheel I was in no position to go to the front and help.
Hey look – Belgians!
After a rest stop in Del Norte (Mile 59) I rolled out with some folks that I had just ridden with in the big group. One guy did all the work and when we were passed close to the next station he had nothing left to stay with them. I went to the front and tried to take him back up to the group. I bridged up to them. He didn’t. But we were in Monte Vista.
In Monte Vista the Tour served hot baked potatoes. With green chili and salsa. Perfect.
Hot baked potato in a helmet
The next 18 miles to Alamosa were dead flat. I joined the group that I had finished with and was the only time I did not feel accepted. I took my pulls. But the alpha male in the group was a woman, Jane, from the U.S. Forest Service, and it just wasn’t a friendly experience. I was looking for an exit strategy but we were on Highway 160 which was under construction and had lots of truck traffic. There was no safe place to escape to. I rode with the group all the way to the school, Ride the Rockies’ headquarters, having passed by my hotel, the Hampton Inn, miles earlier.
In Alamosa
After some exploring of Alamosa, I finished off the day making it a century. Plus four.
Back at the hotel, a very nice Hampton Inn, I grabbed my bag which was sitting in the lobby. Our bags were picked up from the hotel where we stayed daily and dropped at our destination. Alamosa sits at 7500′ in elevation. With my bag in hand, I saw there was a long line for the elevator. I decided simply to take the stairs to the third floor. I made it about halfway to the second floor before I was out of breath. Riding was no problem at elevation but climbing was.
The profile for today’s stage looked like the wires on a suspension bridge. The first 14 miles were up, followed by 37 miles of down, then 32 miles of up, followed by a downhill into Pagosa Springs.
It looked difficult. We had almost 10,000′ of climbing in an 86-mile ride. Mountainous. But no complaints as I signed up for Ride the Rockies.
Pretty as a golf course But it’s not
As with every morning, it was in the 40s when we rolled out. We had stayed at a Best Western in Durango which provided a continental breakfast that was good enough. But we were soon on a 14-mile climb and Scott Olson and I were soon separated as I popped out of the pack to take photos. (Or maybe I wasn’t able to keep up with him as he was a strong rider.)
But we were picking up speed and I was able to find him in the pack and we just rolled the middle section. We stayed together and at Arboles, Mile 51, we were able to roll out of the aid station together. At this point, we were a little more than one mile from New Mexico. We were truly in the southwest corner of Colorado.
Long somewhat boring roads
As Chimney Rock came into view we were both jockeying for the best photo ops. Scott would stop. I would stop. I stayed with him until one mile before the aid station at Hwy 160, Mile 69. I sat up and took a breather. He rolled out of the aid station ahead of me and I took it slow and took more pictures.
Chimney Rock
Chimney Rock would be the main feature on today’s ride. For many riders, they were excited to see it again or for the first time. Some were ignorant like me and had never heard of it before today.
Two miles before Pagosa Springs the road dropped down. Although it was soon signed as 35 mph I wondered if this was a trick as I was hitting 45 mph without pedaling. Then I spotted a Subway and my stomach said to go for it. I ordered a sandwich, had it doubled bagged, and rolled on to the high school where I found a little shade and ate.
A window selfie at Subway
We stayed at the Quality Inn Hotel. Scott and I went to a Mexican restaurant and admired the spa across the river. Hot springs. Everywhere.
View from the Mexican restaurant. San Juan River in the foreground. Believe this is the Springs Resort in Pagosa Springs.
I didn’t go to the Springs Resort. Instead, after dinner, I found a public hot springs hole and soaked my legs. Very relaxing if not a bit smelly.
It was difficult finding a place to rent a good road bike in Denver but I settled on 240 Ski and Bike in Idaho Springs. They didn’t have a true road bike but they basically had road bikes with straight, not drop-down, handlebars. I drove out I-70 to Exit 240 at Idaho Springs and was there by 8:15 a.m.
It was a beautiful morning and just a little cool. A great day for riding. The temperature was maybe around 60°. I wore a long-sleeve Under Armour base layer (cold) then my Mt Washington/Newton’s Revenge jersey. Bike shorts.
We had to agree on terms for the bike. A decent time to the summit, according to Bicycling magazine was 3.5 hours. Of course, there’s the ride back too. The salesman at the shop looked at me and said “You look like you’re in good shape so you should be able to do it in a decent time. I’ll put you down for five hours and call it four.”
I left Idaho Springs for what was to be a straight shot to Mt. Evans. I wasn’t sure how far it was and stupidly, was afraid to ask. I had read 28 miles but wasn’t sure if that was one-way or round trip. I also read it was 14 miles. Of course, it’s both, depending on whether you start at Idaho Springs or at Echo Lake.
As soon as I left Idaho Springs I crossed I-70 and immediately began climbing. I saw a sign for Mt Evans Fee Area – 14 Miles and hoped that it was 14 miles to the top of Mt. Evans. I pictured a plateau and even thought that perhaps the road continued down the other side. I was so ignorant.
The road up started pretty easy, especially the first six miles. Unfortunately, there are no elevation markers except at the major mileposts. I think I would have liked to know every time I went through another 1000 feet. There were no flats for the next 14 miles.
The route was through Arapaho National Forest and was absolutely gorgeous. I thought many times about stopping to take photos. But wanting to make good time and the absence of a good camera made me soldier on. I had just two bottles of water with me and every mile when I saw the mile marker I took a drink as I tried to ration the water I had with me. I wasn’t sure if I was climbing 14 or 28 miles and that affected how, and when, I drank.
Mount Evans Toll Road
Mostly when I ride I catch other cyclists and the few times I am passed it can be demoralizing. Around the seven-mile marker, I was passed by a cyclist. Then around Mile 10, I was passed by two more guys. This was getting old. They were seemingly telling me how old I was.
I didn’t have a computer on the bike but had started my watch. I had started at a 5-minute/mile pace (12 mph) but did not expect to maintain that as the grade increased and the air got thinner. The elevation at the start in Idaho Springs was 7,524 feet (2,293 meters).
At Mile 14 I reached Echo Lake. Here the road parallels the lake for a quarter-mile and is dead flat. The flat pedaling was a welcome relief. It was an accomplishment to reach Echo Lake and the entrance to Mt Evans. Here also was Echo Lake Lodge. And store.
Echo Lake
I caught the two cyclists who passed me as they had stopped for a rest. I borrowed an Allen key to lower my seat. It had been too high which prevented me from getting into a good cycling rhythm. I also learned that they were with a group and were the only two who could go off the front. The rest couldn’t keep up with them so at least the group didn’t pass me.
I went into the store and bought another bottle of water for the next 14 miles — to the summit of Mt. Evans. This would be the only stop I would make and I wouldn’t call it a rest stop. It was necessary to adjust my seat and get more water. Total time off the bike was only three minutes. Riding time to the lodge had been 99 minutes.
I left the lodge, started towards Mt. Evans, and immediately came to the main entrance. I was prepared to beg my way out of the three-dollar entrance fee for having “suffered enough already.” Indeed, I had told the other cyclists that I read one could beg their way out of the fee by stating that you were only riding to the summit then turning around and coming right back. I didn’t have to. The ranger said he could waive the fee if I told him I was going to ride the summit and then immediately come back down. I assured him I was.
Almost immediately the road turned up. There are two quick switchbacks then another two in about one mile. But then the road straightened out quite a bit until the final ascent.
Ahead on the first switchback, I saw two riders. By the time I rounded the switchback, I saw just one remaining with a rider much further up the road. I finally caught someone! I slowed as I passed trying to make conversation. This gentleman was from Evergreen, Colorado and it was clear he was going too slow for my pace. I was on pace for a three-and-a-half-hour climb and didn’t want it to take longer. Plus I knew the road would turn up in anger later.
Mount Evans Road
In a few more minutes I caught the second rider. And we began to ride together for a while. At a certain grade, we seemed to have the same pace. But on a lesser grade, maybe 3-4%, he seemed to be a little stronger. When the road turned up I would pass him. We didn’t discuss it but we took turns leading each other. And it worked.
Somewhere about four miles into this road we passed the tree line and entered a treeless alpine environment. For those miles, we stayed with one another. Around Mile 10 (24 total) we reached Summit Lake (12,830′ or 3,911 meters) and here the road turned down. It was paved but very rough. My new friend knew the road and took off down it. I struggled to keep up. It wasn’t steep but a gentle downgrade although the road was rough. Winter freezing plus spring thawing and refreezing had buckled the road in many places and left potholes in others. I didn’t want to crash out being stupid.
Mount Evans Road
After passing Summit Lake we started climbing the final section of the day. Only 1400 more feet (427 meters) of climbing. By my calculations, the grade kicked up to 9-10%. Here the switchbacks start in earnest. I think there were 14 of them. I went ahead of my new cycling friend. I saw him as we turned the next couple of switchbacks but after a while lost contact. I don’t think that either he or his friend made it to the top.
Made it. Must. Sit. Down.
I kept climbing higher. The switchbacks kept getting closer, maybe 200 yards or so between each turn and the grade seemed to increase with each one. I was trying to keep a steady rhythm as I pedaled but the legs were burning and sometimes it felt better to switch to a bigger gear and stand. But as I did I noticed that I no longer could stand long without getting light-headed or dizzy. Best to sit on the seat and tap away.
It was painful but always a good pain. Physically. Mentally it was tough because it was easy enough to turn around. I tried to focus no more than 100 yards ahead. Once above the tree line you can see that road climbing forever. If you allow yourself to look too far ahead surely you will want to quit.
I did frequently look back at the road just traveled. When I looked next to see if I could find my cycling partner I saw another cyclist. And he was slowly gaining on me. Except when he caught me, he was a she and she pedaled right by me. That was enough to defeat me. But it didn’t. I figured that I would do this ride once in my life and may as well dig deep to find the energy to continue.
I kept banging through the switchbacks, and getting close to the summit, saw a mountain goat. I wasn’t about to stop and take a picture because I don’t know if I would have got going again. But a car was about 25 yards behind me and I pointed to the goat. They stopped to take pictures.
I had a hard time determining where the climb ended. It just seemed to climb forever. Each time I made a turn I hoped I could see the top but when I looked up, always a bad idea, there seemed to be more road as far as I could see. But when I looked again I could see more switchbacks but this time they were crowded with people walking. No cars. No bikes.
I was there. I rounded one more switchback and could see the small parking lot. I found the energy for a sprint if you could call it that. Out of the saddle, I pedaled hard for the last 50 yards. Then I coasted home in the parking lot.
Barry Sherry at Mount Evans
I pulled in and talked with the young lady who passed me a few minutes earlier. She is from Colorado and rides for Whitman College (Washington). I think living at altitude helps and so does being young. She said it doesn’t help but she will understand in about 30 years. It helps.
(Note: Upon returning home I Googled Whitman College only to discover that Whitman women won the NCAA Div. II national title in 2005 and 2006 and finished third in 2007. No wonder I got smoked although it wasn’t that bad. One of their riders, Mara Abbott, just won the USA Cycling National Road Championship at Seven Springs.)
I dismounted and immediately became dizzy and looked for a place to sit. I can say that climbing at altitude was no problem for the lungs. Can’t say that they were burning nor that I was gasping for breath. I think I held something back from my effort all day as I wasn’t about to give 100% effort (sprint) then not have anything left. I didn’t know how much to ration so I kept the steady pace going during the climb. But I never felt sick or out of breath. Cramping was never an issue so my hydration plan was at least adequate. But I was very lightheaded once I was walking.
I sat down and took in the view. Probably could see for 50 miles although that view lasted about three minutes. Out of nowhere, a cloud moved in and all of a sudden one could see about 50 feet and that was it. And the temperature dropped as well. The temperature was in the low 40s when I arrived at the summit but quickly dropped when the clouds moved in.
Most cyclists had jackets on as they descended and I had brought my cold-weather gear. I was surprised that my jersey was wet with sweat since I never felt sweat dripping off my face or arms. But I had worked hard and knew it was time to put my jacket on. And after no more than five minutes resting it was time to descend.
While I had started my stopwatch and looked at it climbing to Echo Lake, I forgot to look at it again to measure total time to the summit. I thought it was about 3:45 but I reset it to zero to clock the time back to Idaho Springs.
I looked forward to what could be a 28.5 mile descent coasting all the way. But my body was tired and aching from the climb and the thought of throwing my bike in the back of someone’s pickup truck was even more inviting. But there were no offers.
I headed down 50 yards to the first switchback, turned then went another 100 yards and knew it was cold. Temperatures may have been in the high 30s. I pulled over and pulled on my leg warmers and went to the full-finger gloves. When I restarted I quickly started following a car descending and had to brake for him as he was cautious. For a lightheaded cyclist, which I still was, it was much safer to follow someone who was being reasonable. When the body is tired is when one loses focus and makes stupid decisions, sometimes tragic.
The drops off Mt. Evans were huge. There are no guard rails the entire way and in some sections, even the roadway had buckled and dropped off. If one were to ride too close to the side of the road, despite pleas from ignorant drivers to do just that, it would be too easy to hit a section of road that simply disappeared. And so would the cyclist. My focus was 100% on the road and I never looked down at the large drops I was riding next to. To look down would make me dizzier.
And I was cold. My legs were shivering uncontrollably and so were my arms. My chest was tight as I was fending off the cold. I knew this was the beginning of hypothermia. I wanted to go faster to get off the mountain as quickly as I could but also knew the faster I went the colder it was.
I followed the car to Summit Lake where the road becomes somewhat straight for one mile. Even if one could coast through this section one had to be very diligent in watching the road hazards. But passing Summit Lake this road has a rise to it for about a mile. I reached down for energy to pedal some more and it was very difficult. But I knew that I would only have to get past this section before beginning my descent the rest of the way.
I think there was yet another section to climb, not difficult mind you, just a pain in the butt and legs after all the earlier climbs. But once I passed it I was out of most of the switchbacks and on better road. I switched into a bigger gear and started pedaling. I had shaken the extreme cold and wanted to go fast — as fast as I safely could that is.
While I was pedaling I allowed myself to be caught by two guys descending. Whether or not they were the two that passed me going up, I don’t know. I didn’t see them at the top. I didn’t have a road bike with 23cc tires and couldn’t descend quite as fast. I was descending about 40 mph and they were going a couple of mph faster. As they passed I picked up my pace and followed their line. I figured they knew the road and how fast they could safely take the turns. It helped following them. My total time descending back to Echo Lake was 42 minutes which included the slow sections at the top and the climb by Summit Lake.
My pacers pulled off and went into the lodge. I started the descent past Echo Lake then down to Idaho Springs. This truly was downhill and while one could presumably never turn a pedal the entire way the speed couldn’t have been that great either. There were technical turns that I had to slow down for but I was still moving at a 30 mph pace. How do I know that? I was timing the miles as they were ticking away at two minutes every mile.
It hurt to pedal but I wanted to get off the bike as soon as I could. I missed my Trek Pilot carbon bike and could feel every bump this aluminum Scott bike hit. I kept the pace up celebrating every time I passed another mile marker sign. There was another reason to hurry back. It was raining too. Lightly, but still raining.
Mile Marker One went whizzing by and I could see Idaho Springs ahead. It was easy to find the last remaining energy to pedal across I-70 and into the parking lot at the bike/ski rental store. I had rented the bike for four hours and although I was outside the four hours the manager graciously told me I didn’t owe him a thing more.
I thought about what I had accomplished. Mt. Evans. For some, one of the holy grails in cycling, at least in the U.S. The highest paved road in the country. Very high altitude. Although I was passed on the climb by some cyclists, the only people who succeeded at this climb are incredibly fit and are true cyclists. And I think everyone was younger than me. While there may have been four that passed me on the way up, that was four in 28 miles and all were in great shape. And did I mention young?
I immediately said to myself “Never again.” I accomplished it and don’t need to try it again. However, I wouldn’t rule it out either. I don’t think I would plan a trip to Denver to ride Mt. Evans but if I was in the area again, who knows?
