Salida

June 19, 2015March 6, 2023

Royal Gorge

CAÑON CITY, COLORADO

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°.

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.

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)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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.

June 18, 2015August 28, 2020

Cottonwood Pass

SALIDA, COLORADO

This was the day I dreaded. My legs failed me on Monday over the Grand Mesa and didn’t do so hot on Tuesday. Today was a planned 102 mile day to Salida over the 12000′ Cottonwood Pass. On dirt. I watched the pros race this and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

I stayed at Mount Crested Butte which sits at 9,375 feet (2,858 m). It was cold, 41 degrees, when I rolled out of the condo down to Crested Butte. Once on the road after Crested Butte I was passing 10 times more people than passed me. And when one guy did pass me, I jumped on his wheel and said “let’s work.” A third joined us and we were flying. The first 21 miles I covered in 55 minutes (22 mph).

At Almont, everything broke up at the rest stop. I didn’t stop but kept going. As usual, the lines at the porta-johns were huge as they always are for the first stop of the day. Too huge. I only went a couple of miles before I found my own rest stop in the national forest. Not trees but a park service outhouse. Others soon followed me in my discovery.

I rode my own pace up to the Taylor Park Reservoir. I felt a knot in my left calf. I was worried this may become a full-blown cramp. I’ve never sagged but the thought that I might have to weighed on my mind.

I stopped and talked to three fishermen and then to a fourth who had a 10-month old Labrador named Milton. Right after the reservoir and a dreaded descent (because we gave back a lot of our elevation gain) I stopped at the Taylor Park Trading Post aid station. I met a man working on his Smoothie. I asked if it would help and he said he swears by them. I bought a Smoothie.

Taylor River and the climb to the Reservior — Taylor River and the climb to the Reservoir

After the Smoothie headache subsided I began the dreaded climb. There were two miles of pavement then a turn onto Cottonwood Pass. The road was dirt but packed hard in many places. Mostly I could find a line. Four guys passed me and I decided to try and keep count. How bad would this be? I would count how many times I got passed and how few times I passed others.

I was all over that road, finding a hard pack line where I could, often in the left lane. But traffic was scarce and if one could see a car coming our way they were quick to warn us. I passed a young couple who were moving from Austin to Portland and biking there. Their bikes were loaded down but they had smiles on their faces.

I soon realized I was going faster than most riders. The count kept getting higher and when I came to the aid station which was seven miles up this 14-mile climb I kept going without stopping. My legs actually felt great.

I was probably 10th wheel coming up on a photo op and I didn’t want to appear to be off the back when I had just made contact with these folks. I powered by them and may have been too fast for the camera. The photographer complimented me on my pace.

In all, I passed 228 cyclists while getting passed by 10. I felt great! 228:10. Wow!

The knot in my calf worked itself out for once on the climb and I never noticed it again. One must consider that while I rode my own pace getting to Taylor Park that the strongest riders had already passed me by before starting the climb. Whatever. I come to the Rockies not to be measured against others but against myself and I simply felt great and ready to bomb the descent.

My plan since I had seen the route and knew my lodging location was in Buena Vitsa and not Salida was to simply make it over the mountain to Buena Vista. That would make it an 80 mile day. I would add the 26 missing miles from Buena Vista to Salida to tomorrow’s route and turn that 66-mile day into a 92 mile day.

The sweeping curves at the top of Cottonwood Pass

As I approached Buena Vista I did not turn with the RTR route but instead went to the Super 8 and checked in. I offloaded my vest, leg and arm warmers, and gloves and thought “I feel great.” Not that I needed encouragement but my backpack which contained my shoes and glasses was missing at the Super 8 so if I called it a day I had no shoes or reading glasses. I decided to ride to Salida.

I was by myself. The official route cut a little diagonal on the route and had turned off earlier although would later connect. Didn’t matter. I felt great. I caught a couple of riders up the road then rode with them. Their helmets were covered in yellow with a red feather. They looked like chickens “so their support team could find the easier.” This was Maria from San Diego and Melinda from Denver. They told me the next day they would be Angry Birds. I never saw them again.

We finished. 106 miles. I felt good enough in the moment to ride another 106 miles. Of course I didn’t. But winds kicked up hard just then so I boarded a bus to take me back to Buena Vista, leaving my bike in the bike corral. What a day to feel great. It was the best I felt over distance in a year. And it left me wondering that maybe there’s something to sleeping at 9000′.

June 15, 2013July 23, 2015

Cañon City

CAÑON CITY, COLORADO

The rain that fell last night brought ash. Cars and bikes that were outside were covered with spotted ash. But at least the area got some rain.

I did not want to wait for the 6:00 a.m. breakfast at the Super 8 and instead went to McDonalds hoping they would open before 6:00. This one left me shaking my head. Thousands of cyclists, most of whom actually like McDonalds, at least for breakfast – those hotcakes supply carbs — and all wanting to roll out early for a 95 mile day – the fourth day in a row of 85+ miles.

And McDonalds was closed. Well, not closed completely because there were workers inside at 5:45 a.m. But they weren’t budging. The line outside was long at 6:00 a.m. when they appeared to reluctantly open the restaurant. I guess if you’re not a kid they don’t want to serve you. Service was very slow. I am not a fan.

When I rolled out from McDs at 6:20 it was cold. The usual 48 degrees. We rode through Big Horn Sheep Canyon but I didn’t see any big horn sheep.

At Mile 25 I turned right and began a climb on a country road. Not all did. There was a sign which stated “US 50 OPEN” and a number of cyclists decided for whatever reason to travel US 50 to Cañon City. Although this was the original planned route, all RTR support was on the new route. These riders were on their own. I didn’t go because I respected the organization and I wanted the extra miles. Bragging rights, you know.

It actually went deeper than that. The organization offered us two options for today. One was to ride the 95 mile route and the other was to take a bus. They made it clear that they did not want cyclists on US 50 even if it was open. If they had to close the road again they could not evacuate all the cyclists. Also, they would be in the way of emergency equipment. To ride the “renegade route” was an irresponsible option but did not stop some riders including one of the bloggers for the Denver Post.

The Royal Gorge burned. No riders could go through there but they could see across the gorge and see the Royal Gorge Bridge. I wish I could have seen it but chose not to. Plus I would have a much more memorable day.

After the second rest stop, I saw Ron Keifel and his sister, Erlinda, pull out. I was close behind. Within a few minutes I was side by side, then shoulder to shoulder, with Ron. Erlinda motored ahead. For 17 miles we chatted. Ron regaled me of stories from the Tour de France, Giro d’Italia, Tour of Switzerland, and more. We talked about cycling, Lance Armstrong, Bob Roll, and more. And we chatted about life.

During this time there was a third rider on our two wheels. She sat in for a free ride. Ron is as down to earth person as you will meet. He talked about not riding much and having a sore butt and legs. Just as we were pulling into Westcliffe, where there was an aid station, he disappeared.

Ron Kiefel, Barry Sherry

As I turned the corner somewhat bewildered, a rider said to me that “your friend just stopped and took a break.” Did I just drop a seven time Tour de France rider? Really? Oh this is awesome!

At the aid station I was a couple hundred meters behind the Kiefel group as they rolled out and wasn’t about to integrate again. Nor could I catch them. For the next 10 miles I watched this group stay 200 meters ahead. And then on a false flat my legs felt good. I picked up the speed and started passing lots of people (except for the Keifel group). I flew by the woman who had been sitting on with us earlier and with the Keifel group after the aid station. She explained she could not stay with the Keifel group. I invited her to follow my wheel. I pulled her to the next aid station.

After going through Hardscrabble Pass I rolled out of the San Juan National Forest by myself. The descent was steep and technical. I quickly got up to 48 mph but applied the brakes. And I saw where one rider had just gone over the guard rail. Oh boy.

“Numerous Ride the Rockies cyclists crashed and were sent to the hospital on Friday as they attempted to maneuver the descent of Hardscrabble Pass in Custer County, a treacherous hill added to the route when the course was altered for Royal Gorge fire road closures. Riders reported crashes that sent people over guard rails while biking switchbacks along the downhill section of the pass.” 1

After seeing the carnage on the descent I sat up and took it carefully. While the run-in to Florence looked to be all downhill on the profile the reality is it flattened out and got hot. I was struggling. I had one group of three pass me and knew I could follow their wheels. But I knew I was too gassed to help and didn’t want to sit on. I let them pass.

About five minutes later the Kiefel group passed me. And Ron called out my name. It was an instant energy boost. I joined them and in short order we passed the group that I was too tired to follow. In Florence I moved up to talk some more with Ron.

After our last stop in Florence I rolled out and we quickly had four but I excused myself as not wanting to work anymore with anyone. I was pretty gassed. But I did want to stay ahead of the Kiefel group because it would be embarrassing to get caught yet again. And I managed that.

I finished the day, added some bonus miles to make 100, and attended the cycling seminar. While Chris Carmichael was the featured speaker, and gave the same “caught up in the era” excuses as we heard all week, the highlight was Margaret Rae Tennant, a woman with Parkinson’s Disease who was riding in this week’s tour. She presented her video, Better on a Bike, and she received a standing ovation.

Recovery

At the seminar, a woman from the US Geological Survey named Jane spoke and told of how she tried to follow the wheel of Ron and “another rider” and was just hanging on. Oh yea, I remember her — on the ride into Alamosa she was calling the shots and wasn’t too nice. And now she was thanking Ron and me for pulling her — and she was also the rider that I pulled back to the Keifel group on the false flat. That felt good.

WD-40 Bike free cleaning

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1 The Denver Post, June 15, 2013

June 14, 2013July 23, 2015

SALIDA, COLORADO

The day’s profile looked pretty easy – 40 miles of flat followed by some trending uphill over the 9,010′ Poncha Pass then a descent to Salida. We were also aware of wild fires burning near Salida and there were rumors of what the next day would bring.

As we rolled through Alamosa, a rider named Karen asked me if I rode up L’Alpe d’Huez (which was the jersey I was wearing). Of course I did. She joined Scott Olson and me for a few miles until he pulled away as we took pictures of the sign “Forest Fires Ahead — Do Not Call 911.”

At the first rest stop I met a guy wearing a Haymarket jersey and talked to him for a while. Haymarket, like Woodbridge, is in Prince William County, Virginia. After rolling out on the Celestial Highway (Google it) I saw my friend off the road in the sand changing a flat. I went back to help him.

After the third rest I caught Karen and saw she had a pump. I had intended to top off the air pressure today at the first stop since the school was too far to go to in the morning roll out. Distracted by talking with my Haymarket friend and I forgot to check air at Stop 2. But now I was convinced the front tire was low — too low — and I preferred a pump to CO2 which I carry.

Giant Chicken Rest Stop

But as we rolled along the tire was definitely flatting and at the first intersection where I didn’t have to be in the sand, I pulled over and changed the tube. I have little negative to say about Ride the Rockies but two SAG vehicles drove by and neither stopped. Oh how I wanted a floor pump.

After Rest 3 I rolled out by myself to Poncha Pass. At the pass I saw a whiteboard which stated tomorrow’s route would be changed and details to be released at the cycling meeting. Nothing I could do but ride.

I left the pass and began the descent. I did not expect anything more in speed but got into a tuck and let it roll. The Colorado State Troopers that rode with us on motorcycles were getting tired and grumpy. Earlier I saw one, sirens on, yelling at one large group of cyclists trying to pass another large group of cyclists. And now, on my descent, a trooper pulled up beside me as I was in my tuck doing 45 mph.

I wasn’t sure of the speed limit but I didn’t want to brake. I let it roll. I pulled ahead of the cop as I was in the right side of the lane and he was in the left. I hit 51 mph. I love these Colorado downhills.

Scott Olson on Cruiser

At the Salida Super 8, Scott Olson and I both borrowed “cruiser” bikes to go downtown and attend the cycling meeting. We were pleasantly surprised by the street fair downtown and the white water kayaking in the Arkansas River.

At the meeting we learned the reroute would add 35 more miles (95 total) and take us over yet another 9,000′ pass. Many people were defeated.

I was disappointed because I really wanted to see and ride over the Royal Gorge Bridge – the highest suspension bridge in the U.S. But people lost homes and jobs in the Great Gorge Fire and what I would lose is nothing compared to them. Plus we get bonus miles which will make this the longest Ride the Rockies in their 28 year history.

After dinner it rained. A thunderstorm. And the area needed it.