Alamosa

ALAMOSA, COLORADO

The day that scared the peleton. I laughed.

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.


Pagosa Springs

PAGOSA SPRINGS, COLORADO

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.


Soaking in the natural hot springs

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