The Colorado High Country 1200k starts in Louisville CO, close to
Boulder, altitude 5300 ft, climbs into the High Country (8,000 - 11,000
feet) after 67 miles, and returns to 5100 feet for the run back to
Louisville.
The first day's ride is dominated by the 57
mile ride up (yes up) the Poudre Canyon, from 5100 feet to 10,300 feet.
That's a very pretty ride, never very far from the river, a little
undulating but varying from perhaps 20-50 feet altitude over the river. The
grade is moderate at the lower reaches and increases as you get further
into the climb. At those lower reaches the canyon is narrow and
twisting; at the upper end, wider with long straight stretches.
The run up the canyon starts at mile 67. While there's some rolling hills in that first stretch, it's mostly flatish and fast riding. Leaving at 4am, it's not memorable, but it certainly is on the return trip in the heat of the afternoon !
There's
whitewater rafting in the river; buses full of people pulling trailers piled with the large
rafts. Most of it looks pretty tame but I'm sure that it's fun. Vegetation is sparse in the canyon, some of that due to forest fires. In fact, vegetation is sparse for the entire ride ! It's quite a bit different than riding, say, the Rocky Mountain 1200k in BC where a large part is heavily forested.
Apparently
typical in the canyon, we had a mild tail-wind as we climbed. That
changed dramatically after the Control at 98 miles, with the wind
becoming a headwind, increasing in velocity as we approached Cameron
Pass.
That headwind was brutal. Some estimated it
at 50-60 mph. A few times I had to stop, gripping my brakes and bracing
myself into the wind to avoid being blown back down, left or right.
Once I had to walk a hundred yards to get around a curve, finding that
the wind would abate after the curve. I certainly looked forward to
that headwind switching to a tailwind after Cameron Pass ! Apparently
the ride has never experienced this kind of wind before ... lucky us !
There
was no tailwind from the top. The headwind continued. Cameron Pass is at 125 miles and we still had almost a
hundred miles to go to our night's Control at Saratoga.
Typical
on these rides, I found myself not quite in the back of the pack a few
miles after starting. By the Control in Rustic at mile 98, I'd caught
up with a crowd and was somewhat middle of the pack.
From
Cameron Pass we had to fight our way to Walden, a Control that we would
hit several times, fighting the wind, that is. Walden is at 8100 feet
and should have been a nice descent; it wasn't. From Walden it's about
70 miles to Saratoga at mile 221; we had entered Wyoming at mile 178.
The wind had died somewhat, thank goodness !
There was
a large forest fire in the distance burning in WY, only about 5% contained. The smoke
was never very dense but you could see it like fog in the distance and it burned my
eyes. The WY terrain is open with long, long moderate rollers.
I
arrived at Saratoga, altitude 6791, at 12:30 a.m. I wasn't the last
rider, indeed there were many who finished in that 11-1 timeframe. 8
riders out of our starting 43 threw in the towel due to that wind - 19% !
From
Saratoga we go back to Walden by a different route and again we had
strong headwinds. I left at 4:25 and got to Walden at 6:20 p.m. In
between we had some wonderful riding through the Snowy Range, hitting
the Snowy Range Pass at 10,847. That was the high point, altitude-wise,
of the ride.
So far the altitude hadn't really
bothered me. Per John's rider briefing material, the grades are
manageable and I wasn't finding much effect from the altitude ... yet.
The wind, however, was killing me. I don't do well in wind and these
two days had sucked a lot out of me. We lost another couple of people
in Walden ...
I hung around Walden for almost 2
hours. That's highly unusual for me but I considered it necessary. I
knew that the wind would die down in the evening and that would really
help me. I needed the recovery time.
By this point, John was relaying to the riders that all Control deadlines were void due to the conditions, other than the final Control time, that is. That took the pressure off and people managed their time based on how they felt. Without that, we would have lost many more. I only made Walden barely ahead of the deadline.
Walden is 138 miles into that day; in between we'd hit Laramie WY. These names that you recognize from John Wayne movies are tiny little towns, their reputation larger by far than their population !
Walden is 138 miles into that day; in between we'd hit Laramie WY. These names that you recognize from John Wayne movies are tiny little towns, their reputation larger by far than their population !
Earlier that day, pulling into one little town, a number of us had a good hot breakfast. The waitress's t-shirt said population 100. The sign coming into town said population 270. I queried that population explosion and laughed with one couple that the larger number included the "greater metropolitan area".
It's
"only" 56 miles from Walden to Steamboat Springs, mile 194 on the day.
Leaving Walden at 8:13 p.m., it took me almost 7.5 hours to get to
Steamboat Springs. Ok, the altitude was finally hitting me and my
breathing whistled a little, sounding like exercise induced asthma. It
was in that stretch that Larry Midura abandoned, not wanting to take a
chance on that same condition. I stubbornly pushed on ... it's not the first time that my idiocy showed through.
Ok,
I was now the lanterne rouge, many dropping off behind me. I arrived in Steamboat a few minutes after two riders
from Brazil. They'd passed me at the top of the descent into Steamboat
Springs. Knowing that 7 miles at 7% was going be a cold one, I'd stopped to don
my rain pants and loved every minute of the descent. Wheee !!!
Another rider abandoned in Steamboat Springs, didn't start that next morning. So many smart people, so many smarter than me !
Rolling
again at 6:12 a.m., I was feeling far from spiffy. The altitude effect
was cumulative; phlegm accumulation causing some whistling in my
breath, anaerobic exercise can't go on for long. I knew what was
happening -- legs felt fine for a short time but then they weren't
getting enough oxygen to do their thing.
Day
three of this ride is, without a doubt, the worst day that I've spent
on a bike ... or off the bike as the case may be. I spent much time
during the day cursing myself for stubbornness, not having quit
earlier. Still, I continued riding.
The really smart people had abandoned before or in Saratoga, spent a couple of days there or in the hot springs and rode back the last day.
From Steamboat
Springs at 6700 feet, we traverse another couple of passes in the mid
8000 and mid 9000 range, eventually doing a leg to Grand Lake and
reversing direction, heading back to Walden via Willow Creek Pass. From
the turn to that pass on highway 125, I had about 20 miles before I
could start the descent to the overnight in Walden.
I
dithered. I had cell phone service at that point. Can I do this ? Is there enough
time in the world for me to get to that pass ? I hit a couple of downhill sections, rode out of cell phone range. The climbing started. I walked. I rode short
distances, mostly on downhill stretches. Uphill or even level stretches
on the bike didn't last more than a hundred yards before I had to stop.
My legs weren't getting any oxygen and neither was my brain. I was
quite unsteady, fell down once at zero mph, cursing on the ground with
the cleats still attached. What an idiot !
I finally
decided that I'd never get there from here. A car would come by every
15 minutes or so and I'd stop walking (yes, it was all walking at this
point), but no one stopped. I hoped that a support car would come by;
none did.
Finally someone stopped -- "are you all
right ?" -- "no". I finally figured out that they weren't part of the
team and he agreed to call one of the support cell numbers once he got to an
area with service. I told him that it wasn't a 911 situation, I was
warm, lots of clothing, I was walking, don't worry about me. It's a lovely night for a hike pushing a bike.
The
miles wore on, albeit very slowly. I counted them off with my Garmin, which by now with
the slow progress wasn't even charging from my Schmidt hub and was
complaining "batteries low". I kept walking. There was really nothing else that I could do. Sitting at the side of the road wouldn't accomplish anything. There was no guarantee that anyone would ever come. You get that "alone in the world" feeling.
A car
approached. He was obviously looking for me ... Scott was his name.
"What can I do for you ?" he asked. Well, says I, I don't think I can
make it. He said that it was only two miles to the pass ... I didn't say anything but I knew
that was an optimistic number unless the cue sheet was incorrect, it had to be more than three. He had
some soup and he had a warm car. I sat inside and got my breathing under
control. I agreed to continue and he would wait at the pass.
An
hour or so later, he approached again, acknowledged that it had been
more than two miles, but I only had a mile or so to go ! Right. Plod
on. Are we having fun yet ?
Finally, finally I got to
the pass. With relief, I started the descent only to find that it's
not a straight descent, in fact there are about four climbs during the
descent. Not only that, but my back was killing me. I'd walked so many
miles pushing the bike that I couldn't get myself comfortable even
riding downhill. I had to keep stopping to straighten myself out. It
was 30 miles from the pass to Walden, a long ride even with a drop in
elevation of 1500 feet.
Arriving in Walden at 4:30
a.m., I squeezed in a half-hour sleep and left at 6:25. Normally I'm more efficient than that but every minute off the bike was recovery time. Recovery as more the issue than sleep.
It was a new
day. The sun was up. The end was in sight, sort of. Onward !
A few miles into that ride my addled brain told me that I'd miscalculated. There was no way that I could make Louisville before the cutoff. This was all for naught. I'd have to average 15-16 mph to make Louisville on time even if my stops were incredibly brief. I decided that I'd text Scott later and ask him to pick me up on the way to Louisville. I might even be in danger of missing my flight !
A few miles later my brain cleared somewhat and I realized that I only had to make 10 mph, not 15-16, and as long as I made the top of Cameron Pass in good time, I'd be ok. The wind picked up ... oh oh ...but didn't become a factor.
It
was 30 miles from Walden back to Cameron Pass. I knew that somewhere
in there I would run out of steam, riding wise. I wanted to make the
Pass by 10am, figuring that would leave me lots and lots of time to get
to Louisville. Sure enough, around 9000 feet as the grade increased, I
couldn't ride more than a few feet before the muscles burned. Oxygen,
what oxygen ? The grade wasn't more than 5-7%, usually not a problem at
all, but without oxygen to the muscles ... well, it was no go.
I made 10am, just. I now had 12 hours to finish the ride. 120 miles to go and 12 hours, this should be easy.
It
was. Finally. Remember that there's now a 57 mile descent ... Sandy
was watching my SPOT and figured that I'd abandoned. She thought that I
must have been in a car, hitting 40 mph at times. It was wonderful
rolling down the canyon, and when we hit those undulations at the lower
reaches, suddenly my legs felt fine. They weren't tired at all !
Out
of the canyon, it was hot. I'd started the day with light jersey, wool
jersey, heavy jacket, leg warmers, winter gloves, you-name-it. Long before I got to
Cameron Pass I had removed most of that, regretting that I didn't have
any throw away clothes as I'd now have to carry it all.
It
was likely mid 90's out of the canyon, back close to 5000 feet
altitude. I had oodles of time and didn't push myself. I stopped under
shade trees. I soaked parts of myself in sprinklers. I had a couple of
cold drinks.
Rolling into Louisville with almost 2
hours to spare, I met up with John and we agreed that you're supposed to
ride these things, not walk. I can't even imagine what it would have
been like with road shoes vs mountain !
Believe it or
not, there were three people finishing a little after me. There were 16
abandons out of the 43 starts. That 43 includes two 1000k riders.
------
The
ride was well organized, great volunteers, services in all the right
places, vistas of mountains, open ranges, the canyons - Poudre and the
Colorado River - definitely a tough one though. The wind had made it a war of attrition. A combination of the
wind and my body made it very difficult for me. No, it was more than
tough. I can take solace in the fact that it didn't take much to
convince me to carry on, but the fact is, I had decided to quit. I've
had tough times on these rides, but nothing like this. Had that passerby not stopped or Scott not showing up, I'd have made it on my own; no choice. I owe much to Scott for his words of encouragement; being there for me.
I'm
still coughing; feeling the effects, even after a couple of days at sea
level. I do need to get back on the bike soon; yes, it's back together
and ready to ride. Tomorrow. My back is still very tight on the one side. I've got a chiropractor appointment in Sudbury today !These things certainly do call into question your physical conditioning ... and your sanity !!
1 comment:
What an experience - hope no lasting effects - altitude sickness sucks - glad you were able to tough it out = Great Ride and great story
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