colorado national monument

Tuesday brought a decision that needed to be made. The route for the day was from Grand Junction to Montrose, following highway 50 through farm and ranch land, gaining about 1000 feet over 63 miles. Some riders got up early and rode to Montrose, in time to pick out the best spots for their tents. A few hardy souls and really strong riders rode the optional loop through the Colorado National Monument, AND rode the 63 miles to Montrose, making for a day of 100+ miles.

And then there was the SAG. If you've never done a supported ride, SAG stands for Support And Gear. Someones following you in a vehicle, meeting you at random or planned stops along the way, carrying anything you might need. SAG has also come to be know as catching a ride part, or all of the way to your destination if you are mechanically or physically unable to ride. Some BTC riders had private SAGs for a group, and decided climbing and riding in the monument was by far the best part of the day. If they then chose to catch a lift to Montrose they wouldn't be missing much, other than the miles. And some, like me, started out to ride the optional loop and figure the rest out later.

Once in the park we rode on Rim Rock Drive, nicknamed the "Tour of the Moon". This is the part of the Coors Classic Bicycle Race featured in the 1985 Kevin Costner movie, American Flyers. The route offered over 3000 feet of climbing, mostly just inside the entrance to the park, and spectacular views at every turn. We enjoyed a cool sunny morning full of climbs and descents, oohs and aahs, and many, many pictures snapped.

Rim Rock Drive also has 3 tunnels that cars and bikes pass through. We were well-advised that front and rear lights were necessary, and even required by law to make for a safe passage. The last 2 tunnels were very short but the first one went on for maybe 50 yards. Signs were posted as you approached to remind you to use your lights. What the signs didn't say was to remove your sunglasses. It's a weird feeling to suddenly enter darkness, and see only the light from the front of your bike, and the blinking of taillights on other bikes. For a fleeting moment it seemed difficult to keep my balance, but I made it through without incident.

As we were snapping pictures, someone familiar with the area pointed out to us the mesa off in the distance across a broad valley. That was the Grand Mesa that we had ridden over the previous day. It was interesting to be able to see a high point where you had been, from a high point where you were today, and everything in between.

Between the climbing, picture taking, and general enjoyment of the morning, by the time I completed the loop and got back on the planned route to Montrose, it was early afternoon. It was hot and windy and we were riding a boring stretch of highway through land of a stark beauty at best. The timing also meant that the first aid station was closed and the second would be by the time many of us reached it. With that in mind, the Tour had SAGs out encouraging riders to hop on and be delivered on down the road, or all the way to our destination. After the near 100 miles the prior day, I was more than happy to take my memories, and pictures, from the monument, and catch a ride for the rest of the day. If a choice had to be made between the ride from Grand Junction to Montrose, or the ride on Rim Rock Drive, I felt good that I had made the right choice.

a really grand mesa

One of the things the Bicycle Tour of Colorado did a good job with is marking the route. Not just "left turn ahead" or "stay right", but marking road damage, warning of upcoming cattle guards, and sometimes just painting encouragement into the pavement. One of my favorite sayings was on the climb over McClure Pass, which Ride the Rockies claimed had grades from 8-12% near the top. It said "pain is weakness leaving your body". If that's true I think my bike seat was covered in weakness by week's end.

On Monday we climbed out of the valley and Hotchkiss, doubling our altitude at the top of the Grand Mesa, the worlds largest flat-top mountain. The grades weren't as severe as the previous day, but we climbed a little for 20 miles, then we climbed a lot for 20 more! (Just keep pedaling!) At least I didn't have to contend with any moose.

As we rode on it became more and more obvious the direction we were going. Partly because it slowed everyone down, some more than others. And when you stopped for a rest, the photo ops got better and better as we could see the valley that had been our terrain a few hours prior. I don't know why the riders at the Tour de France don't get off their bikes every once in a while, drink some water, look around. It's really refreshing! OK, I do know, I'm just saying...

Occasionally, nearer to the top of the climb, the views didn't stretch as far, but they were spectacular in their own right. Green trees, blue sky, and enough mosquitoes to make a native North Dakotan feel at home, if not for the bumps in the flatness of the earth.

My Trek did a fine job of helping me overcome most of my shortcomings. She deserved an occasional rest too. The peaks in the distance are the San Juan mountains. One of the problems with a climb this long is the odometer moving too slowly. I would try to play games with myself, like scheduling the next rest for 5 miles down the road. Several minutes later my cycle computer seems like I've made no progress. Could it be broken? Am I in a time warp? No, just keep pedaling, and don't look at it for as long as possible.

It was warm in the valley as we began our ride. It was hot by the time we had made 20-30 miles. But, by the time we reached the summit it had cooled considerably. Our aid station was set up right across from the elevation sign. I got one of the sign, and there were plenty of folks who were taking pictures of each other in front of the sign that would've taken my picture, but I settled for one of this young man with cerebral palsy who had made the climb. If you keep your eyes open you can always see someone amazing!

As we neared Grand Junction it became hot and windy. We actually rode about 4 miles on the shoulder of I-70. Not something I want to do everyday, but if you stayed to the right of the rumble strip and tried not to think of what was flying by at 70 mph, it wasn't too bad. By the time our mileage was in the mid-90s I was ready to stop, and not overly impressed with Grand Junction's clever street names: (122 1/4 st?) ( E 3/4 ave?) Oh well, it was still a good day. A long, hard, hot, good day!

on the road

We started out Sunday morning, June 21, from Glenwood Springs at 5746' altitude, riding the West Elk Loop of the Colorado Scenic Route. It had rained Saturday night, and though there were still plenty of clouds around, there was abundant sunshine to warm the day. I passed a few riders, and was passed by many more before reaching the first aid station. BTC does a great job with their aid stations; water and powdered gatorade for your bottles, lots of fruit, and sweet and salty snacks for energy to keep you rolling. The first stop had cut up pastries, as well as the ever-present, and ever-popular, peanut butter and jelly.

Most of the day was gentle rollers, trending slightly upwards. I rode along with various riders along the way including a guy from New York, a couple from Minneapolis, and a woman from Pagosa Springs, Colorado, who has a daughter living in Ottawa, Kansas, just down the freeway from Olathe.

About mid-morning we passed Redstone. I stopped for pictures of these beehive coke ovens, which at one time were used to transform raw coal into high grade "coke" used in steel production.

About 3 miles from the summit the grades grew considerably steeper. Personally my speed went from the low teens on the rollers to about 4-5 mph. For the better part of an hour I was happy to stay in motion and upright. A handful of souls were walking their bikes along the shoulder. It looked like even that was a good workout. A couple stops for pictures (and to catch my breath, drink some water) and the summit of McClure Pass was in sight. Just before arrival I was greeted by a woman that would become a welcome sight throughout the tour. She greeted cyclists with a cowbell and a woohoo!

The way down form McClure took us by the Paonia Reservoir, and although these pictures don't do it justice, the evergreens, hills and water are an absolutely beautiful sight. The first time I ever saw this I couldn't help but thinking of Andy and Opie grabbing a fishing pole and heading out of Mayberry for a day at the lake.

The rest of the ride passed working mines, farm fields and orchards, in between sage-covered hills. The temperatures went up as we went down, and it felt good to get to Hotchkiss and set up camp. I walked across the street to the grocery store for some pasta salad for dinner, and treated myself to a huge ice cream cone from a vendor set up at the school. Tired but satisfied, I slept good in the cool air, and was ready for a long day on the bike on Monday.