I have been to heaven and back!
(at least if you are a mountain biker)

On August 29th we left BOCOMO to go to Colorado in search of mountain biking adventures.

WEDNESDAY 8-30-06
After an all night drive we visited (napped) at the Paint Mines outside of Colorado Springs. What do you mean no sleeping, climbing or bikes on trails?

From there we went straight to the Garden of the Gods, which is such a “look in awe” location we didn’t even take down the bikes.








While in the Springs we opted to get rid of our “road legs” with some mountain biking in Palmer Park, which is located right in the middle of town. It is a scrappy place with a large network of trails that we never managed to find much of. The trail was very different from what we are used to around here, very sandy, rutted and rocky, I felt completely out of my element. Did I mention that there is some wicked, blood letting, technical stuff out there? The park also boasts a leash free area for the dogs. We found out the hard way that this means dog poop is anywhere and everywhere. My partner in crime actually fell only once while there (that I saw), but managed to plant squarely on a pile of doo-doo. GROSS!!! I opted to not ride with him much after that……..he be stinky.

Next we checked into a seedy hotel and checked out the pool. Skipped a swim cause it had stuff floating in it. After dinner down town at the brewery we tried to walk off the roundness of our bellies. Fortunately there was a big band concert a couple of blocks away and plenty of blue hairs to converse with. Bellies still round we hit the Safeway to stock the cooler for camping.

THURSDAY 8-31-06
Thursday morning (can you believe I worked a full day on Tuesday in Columbia and did all the above by Thursday morning!) Driving all night kids…….it’s the only way to go.

Drove up to see the Royal Gorge…….or should it be called the Royal Gouge? They let you drive out there and all the way up a winding road and into the park and then you find a fortress that blocks all view of the Gorge and above the door it says “Adults $21” Oh my freakin’ god! They want you to pay $21 dollars to see a bridge over a river!! Yea it’s famous and amazing and all, but really, is it worth that much money. To soften the blow, they have rides or games or something in there to make you feel more like you are going to a whole amusement park, not just a point of interest. Long and short of it, we did not pay; we hiked about until we found a vantage point. Looked at it, snapped some photos and proceeded on down the road.

Made it to Gunnison by early afternoon and strolled around checking out the town. I of course ventured into the bike shop………..$100s later I left with a new Patagonia jacket and sports bra. We got beer and cruised on up to find a camp site.

We drove though Crested Butte on our way. It is a charming old town with neat rows of little older homes –surrounded by palatial, pseudo rustic, mansions. Everywhere you looked, there where bikes; people riding them, bikes parked in front of houses, bikes on cars. Lots of Subaru’s too, like mine. It was glorious. Place is full of cool dogs and everyone looked like a biker (they probably were). They even had a patio bar where people were sitting and drinking with there dogs laying at there feet; totally my kind of place (smile). Crested Butte is definitely where the rich and athletic go to play.

Then we drove thru Mount Crested Butte, which is farther north, farther up in the mountain and much more like a ski resort community. And then, all the sudden we fell out of civilization. As we kept driving even farther up we passed thru “the last town” called Gothic, which amounts to some hunting cabins, an odd little museum in an old log home and a public outhouse. Gothic is apparently an old mountain research station situated within the Gunnison National Forest. As we wound our way back to look for a camp site near the 401 trail (strategically picked after much research as to what trail was most important to ride) the view was so incredible I honestly was jumping up and down in my seat with excitement and had to be pinched to be sure I was not dreaming the whole thing.




We found a camp site and set up our tent, put on some spandex and our camel backs and headed out on bikes to do the infamous 401 trail. We found the trail head after riding thru a large creek, so we had wet feet the whole time we were there practically. Heading UP the trail, we were heading up all right; climb, climb, climb. I know it is mountains and I was not surprised, but it was all a lot more work than you think it will be and then add to that the thin air and then the fact that I was getting used to my new egg beater pedals. It was sort of miserable. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we started to get some down hill action. Now, after all that climbing I found myself riding quickly down the most beautiful single track I had ever seen. Sing it with me “Mountains to the left of me, mountains to the right, here I am stuck in the middle with Aspen trees turning yellow and flowers too”. It was incredible, breath taking…..amazing! By the time we hit the end of the trail; I had forgotten all about the torturous ride up and was grinning like a child at Christmas. Then we turned around and rode the same trail back. This time the climb was a little shorter and the down hill a little longer. We found out that the way back was the proper direction to ride this portion of the 401 so as to have more fun and less work.

After this, it was getting late and we motored back to camp. We cooked up some grub on an open fire as the sun set majestically behind the mountains and the pine trees. Life is good!

James apparently didn’t get enough of the climbing and decided for an evening ride up the nearest trail (403) to see if it was worth exploring the next day. He ended up climbing a trail for downhillers, and I guess pride kept him from abandoning the summit. More of a climber than a descender he endo’ed twice and busted a shift pod.

FRIDAY
Friday morning we woke up to find it was very chilly. Pretty sure it was hovering just above freezing. I wished I had packed a stocking cap and some gloves. After a quick breakfast, we decided to go for a drive and let the world warm up some before biking. We tried to drive to the 403 trail head at the top of a mountain (for a less arduous descent), but found the road was really (like the map said) for 4x4s and jeeps only. We decided to get out and hike for a while then, decided to climb a mountain, then decided to climb the next one over as we were ½ way up there anyway. We finally ended up at almost 13,000 feet on Cinnamon Mountain. When you quit seeing mountain goat tracks you might have gone too far.

The view was spectacular and we stayed there for quite some time…..then we started thinking…..shit, we have to get down now. We looked for a likely route and found what seemed to be a goat trail or something of that nature. We slowly but surely picked our way down thru loose rocks on a steep incline. My feet were starting to feel like crap as they had been at an angle now for hours. We finally made it back to the road and walked back to the car. Along the way, we collected some (medium) wood.

(insert photo-8)

Back at the car, we opened a beer (yes, there was a lot of beer on this trip) and drove back to camp for lunch.

After lunch, we put on the bike clothes again and headed out to do another section of the 401. This time it was the upper portion. We went across the creek……..feet wet again and started climbing. This climb was even steeper and longer than the day before. I was panting and cussing and walking and after what seemed like forever (I’m talking hours, not minutes), we finally got to the top. There we found a boy doing yoga. He laughed at us for going the “wrong way” on the trail. Shit, we did it again, learned the hard way! Oh well, it was great training. We finished up the section of trail with a short winding down hill thru some woods that went back down to the road. There we found the following signs and took photos.


Now for the fun. We climbed right back up from where we had come. This time knowing that the climb would take about a ½ hour and the down hill would last for a long, long, time. We got to the top, caught our breath, switched out of the granny gear and stood up for a long and luxurious ride down.

This trail winds along the side of the mountain for quite some time and it is a bit off camber at times which is unnerving. You look off to the right to see a fall that would make you go tumbling down the hill for a long, long time; definitely a psyche factor. At one point, I was flying down this part of the trail and was freaking out a little about the drop off so I took a high line to my left and ended up in some loose rocks. So, the next thing I know, my bike wheels slip out from under me and I am suddenly on my side in a bunch of rocks thinking how glad I was to be on the trail and not rolling down a mountain to my death.

I got up and brushed of the dirt and got back on the bike to finish the ride with a little blood dripping off my elbow onto my knee. Hoped I would not need stitches and I didn’t.

At the bottom, all I could think to say was “Hell Ya!” It is really pure joy to careen thru the magnificent landscape that is all around you. It is my understanding that if you visit in July there are wild flowers everywhere and the beauty of the place is even better……..which is hard to believe.

By now the digital camera is needing a charge and we are in need of more beer so we got cleaned up (my new favorite camping item is baby butt wipes) and headed to town. There we found an outlet on a porch of a closed kitchen gadget store and plugged in the charger. We went to eat at a barbeque place that had kick ass margaritas. Then we walked back across town and collected the charged up battery for the camera, drove back to camp and drank more beer.

SATURDAY
Saturday started with a hot breakfast at the cold camp site. Then we rolled back to Crested Butte to ride some trails. We did the Upper Loop, the Lower Loop, the Upper Lower Loop and after some wrong turns found the Strand Hill trail. This trail amounted to a gruesome climb up a 4x4 road and another nice long descend. This time we took it in the “smart” direction to start with. (ride up the road and down the trail) The ride down was mostly long switchbacks winding thru the Aspen trees. It was just technical enough to be challenging (keep your ass behind your seat) yet so much fun. In a few spots it gets really steep and I admit that I did stop and walk the bike a few times after seeing my friend practically kill himself up in front of me.


SUNDAY
Sunday we packed up camp and then did the upper 401 loop one more time, this time in the “right” direction. I rolled right thru the spot where I had wrecked; best to face your demons.

We went to Gunnison and had lunch at a whole in the wall Mexican place, then back to Colorado Springs for the night. We decided to stay at the Best Western as they had a free hot breakfast and a cheap rate. As we drove up to the front door to check in, we heard a terrible crack. Holly crap! {sick feeling} The bikes on top of the car had hit the driveway canopy. Anyone who has ever done this trick (and anyone with a roof rack has) knows that the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you hear that sound. Luckily, upon inspection, the damage was not so bad. A busted seat post and a new saddle and that is all. But mountain biking for the rest of the trip was over….with a bang!

Email and cell phone service brought us both down from the mountains on a collision course with reality. The trade off though was that showers after 3 days with out, felt super sweet.

MONDAY
And then there was the drive back……….BORING.
(p.s. Never drive through Kansas on Sundays or Holidays –NO BEER! Don’t they know how boring their state is?)