First off, thanks to Mark Gavin for planning this ride!
On Wednesday, Eric and I met up with Mark, his gf Jenn, and
her nephew Brad at the Sundance Inn just past Nederland.
After introductions and a hearty breakfast we saddled up and
drove to the trailhead.
The trail: 14.5 miles of jeep trail up to a collapsed
tunnel, then back down again, for 29 miles total. The
elevation starts around 9,2 and ends around 11,4, giving the
trail an average angle of 1.65 degrees. It's an old railroad
bed, so there are no steep spots; just a mellow climb that
goes on seemingly forever, with gorgeous views, wildflowers,
and snow patches with runoffs forming miniature waterfalls.
(Yes, of course we forgot the camera.)
There were two goals for this ride: one, to meet up with
some amb folks and ride; two, to get Jenn more comfortable
with the idea of mountain biking. I believe we were
successful on both counts =)
The ride:
We took our time getting started; it was my first ride of
this length, and I think all of us were double- and triple-
checking our equipment. The wind was blowing hard, knocking
down bikes and generally causing trouble. Mark distributed
Jolly Ranchers; this high-energy food supplement was new to
my biking experience, but I think I'll be incorporating it
on future rides.
Oh, yeah, speaking of bikes -- Mark was on a rigid
singlespeed. Masochist. Jenn was on his old full-susp,
Eric and I were on our full-susp bikes, and Brad was on
his hardtail.
We rode along. Mark was clearly the fittest, despite his
"flatlander" disadvantage. He would ride ahead a bit, then
double back to check on Jenn, then ride on up again. Jenn
said that she preferred to be the last rider, but Eric rode
a lot of the way along with her so that she wouldn't be
alone. Brad and I kind of did our own thing, keeping a
steady pace. Periodically, the frontmost person would stop
and let the group catch up. In marked contrast to many
other groups, we made a point of staying stopped until
*everyone* was fully rested and ready to go again. We
weren't breaking any records, but we were having fun and
enjoying the scenery.
Every now and then, a car or 4-wheeler would drive past us.
Having experienced the "fun" of driving my car on a bumpy
dirt road to the parking lot, I had trouble understanding
the appeal. More troublesome was the wind, which came at us
from every possible direction. I can't say that having grit
blown into my face ranks as one of my fondest memories of
the trip. My Rudys blocked most of it from getting into my
eyes, but the dirt still stung any exposed skin. For the
most part, though, the wind wasn't too bad.
Eventually, Brad and I stopped for the rest of the group at
a beautiful pond. As we waited, I grabbed a few handfuls of
trail mix from my camelbak and left it sitting by my feet.
In the course of the next few minutes, everyone arrived and
we stood around chatting. Then I looked down and noticed a
big wet spot by my feet. Further investigation revealed that
I'd been standing on my mouthpiece, leaking precious water
all over the place. Ugh.
Oh well. No use crying over spilled ... water. I consoled
myself with a Jolly Rancher. Onward and upward. The trail
began to get rockier, with some puddles to ride through. At
the next stop, Jenn, who had been doing really well, finally
announced that she was tired. The rocky spots made her
nervous, and of course, nerves will wipe you out more
quickly than a workout will. She walked her bike a while
farther; Eric and I practiced slow-mo riding alongside her.
Finally, we all stopped. A watch-check showed 2:50pm, and
the skies were looking ominous; getting to the top at a
walking pace just wasn't going to happen, though we could
see the mouth of the tunnel up above us. We all wanted to
see Jenn at the top, but then she'd have to descend, as
well. Descending after you've run out of energy is no fun.
She decided to begin her descent while the rest of us rode
to the top. I have to say that Jenn did an awesome job. She
battled high altitude and a borrowed bike, not to mention
tackling the ruts, rocks, and assorted unevenness that comes
with a pitted dirt road. To get as far as she did was a real
accomplishment.
After we split up, I knew there would be no further
stopping. The guys took off; I pedalled hard for about 15
strokes, then realized I wouldn't make it that way and
settled back to my own pace. Pedal, pedal, pedal. The road
got rockier, and I thought to myself that Jenn had probably
made the right decision; this would have been scary for her.
Pedal, pedal, pedal. I passed Eric standing by the side of
the road; I asked him if he needed help, but no, he was just
waiting for everyone to pass so that he could make a pit
stop. No trees here, folks. Pedal, pedal, pedal.
Eric and I made it to the spot where the road was blocked
to cars by a big metal fence. The rocks around it were
easy enough to climb on foot, but we thought that for
speed's sake we'd just wait for Mark and Brad to come back
from the tunnel, then head down to meet up with Jenn so
that she wouldn't be stuck alone the whole way down. I was
starving, anyway. We ate our sandwiches, but still no sign
of the guys. We decided that they must be waiting up top,
so we hiked our bikes over the rocks and pedalled some
more. Really rocky here; Jenn would *not* have liked it.
Sure enough, Mark had set himself up for some shots with a
disposable camera and snapped a couple of Eric and me. We
all agreed that we'd best move out quickly to catch up
with Jenn.
Down, down, down we rode. After we hiked acoss the barrier,
we tore down the trail. I made a conscious decision not to
ride the brakes, so I found myself going just a hair above
30MPH, yes, with my feet clipped into the pedals. At some
point, I passed Mark, who had stopped for a moment. I asked
if all was well, and he said yes, so I kept going. Eric's
"superior" weight had long since allowed him to pull out in
front of me. Weird to ride by a 15MPH speed limit sign and
realize that you're doubling the speed limit ... on a
bicycle. Surreal to see 4-wheelers pass a truck, then pass
both the truck and the 4-wheelers because I'm going so much
faster ...
The road was rutted enough that my forearms were vibrating
so fast I could barely hold on to the handlebars. I tried to
keep my grip loose and light, but that didn't help the
jarring. The last time I felt like this was at Dave &
Buster's, the "electric chair" that vibrates the hell out of
you and then gives you 50 prize tickets. As I decided I
needed a break from the vibration, I also realized I hadn't
seen Mark in a while. I came to a stop, then realized that
Eric had stopped just around the bend and dropped down to
him. We stood there for a while, attempting to get blood
back into our feet and hands, and finally decided that
something must have happened. Just as we were turning the
bikes around and switching big ring to little, a truck
stopped and we saw Mark sitting in the back. He'd gotten a
pinch flat and his new Rhinos (sp?) weren't cooperating, so
he was hiching a ride. Fair enough. Eric called him a
"cheater" and we headed back down the trail.
A few miles down, we caught up with Jenn, who had been
picking her way down the trail. It sounded like she'd
developed some confidence with the ruts; she had walked some
sections, but also rode some stuff that looked scary to her.
I admire her for doing that; had I been alone with
unfamiliar, scary terrain, I would have been a lot more
hesitant. Anyway, I slowed way down to ride the rest of the
way with her; this gave me a keen appreciation of my disc
brakes. My hands didn't even get tired as we finished the
last few miles, but it was definitely a chore to keep my
speed down. Eric, meanwhile, announced that he couldn't
shift properly and was going to rush to the car. Off he
went. A truck passed me and Jenn, and I thought it was the
one Mark had been in, but we didn't see him, so we figured
I'd been mistaken ... till he caught up with us a few
minutes later. Turns out that riding in a truck isn't that
much fun, after all, so he had fixed his flat in the
truckbed and then said his goodbyes. I wonder if there was
much difference between the bounciness of a truck and that
of a rigid bicycle frame ...
We reached the point where the trail met up with the dirt
road, and there we found Brad sitting in the grass.
Apparently, he'd chosen the wrong direction along the road,
which meant a bit more downhill -- and then more uphill to
get back. As we approached the parking lot, we found a deer
in the middle of the road; she quickly scampered away,
though, fortunately neither toward us nor toward the car
coming from the other direction.
Ahh. Finally back at the parking lot, roughly seven hours
after we'd started. Mark shared some beers and we all
relaxed for a while before heading home.
Total damage: Eric bent some links in his chain; Mark got
two snakebites. Er, his tire did. Not bad for 29 miles.
I'd like to head back and do this trail again some time.
It's a different experience, and I think I could do the
whole downhill in 30-45 minutes.
--
monique