Tuesday morning was my last training ride before going in to “rest” mode. I decided since the section of Leadville course that Art wanted to ride was rolling or flat that I’d take the geared bike out so I wouldn’t have to spin at 12mph for miles on end (is that weird? I take the geared bike out when there’s less climbing?)

We rode the section from the Pipeline Aid station to Twin Lakes and back. This time, I took my camera- some of the photos below are of Art creating his own personal course markings, some scenery, and a random Amanda Carey sighting:

I started Monday morning with a rib-sticking breakfast cooked by Wild Bill and his wife, Cathy. Soon after, I was changed and out on the bike with Art and a couple of other Leadville 100 hopefuls. We rode the first 26 miles or so of the race course, which was interesting since I was on my singlespeed, and they were on geared bikes trying to take it easy. I ended up riding up the climbs ahead of them and just waiting at the top.

I’m mad at myself for not bringing a camera. There were some beautiful views out there. I had to chuckle a little bit- Art said that the first climb is the steepest other than the initial section of powerline on the “back” direction of the course. I rode most of it until the pitch near the top. While I was pushing my bike, I watched the grade, which was usually around 17-23%. Compared to what I’ve been “hiking” on the Breck course, this was a kitten.

The next climb was great- it wasn’t very steep, and there was an occasional tailwind that was strong enough to feel like a push up the hill. On the way down “powerline,” I spotted Amanda Carey (who wrote the best race report for Marathon Natz that I’ve seen so far), who was on her way up. I can see how that climb would be painful… it was a little bit more like the Breck climbs as far as length of the insane steep part, and the terrain was a little rocky.

It was a nice ride- we ended up with just over 30 miles and about 3000ft of climbing.

Once I was back, I cleaned up and watched a replay of Sunday’s Tour stage. Too bad about Lance crashing and losing all that time- it’d be more fun to see Alberto beat him fair & square instead. After that, I sat around on the porch talking to the hikers that were staying in the hostel. One girl had been at the Breck hostel the first night I was there, so it was fun to exchange stories about what we’d done since the last time we’d met. She’s on her first thru-hike, and it’s great to hear about her learning experiences along the way.

After a while, a few of us decided to go to the local Mexican place for dinner- Keith (given the trail name “Sir Mix-a-Lot” when he hiked a good portion of the AT eating nothing but trail mix) on the left, and John (no trail name) on the right:

Keith is from Pennsylvania. He graduated high school, worked full time for a while to save money, then decided he wanted to hike the Appalachian trail to West Virginia. He got bored, though, and hitched/hopped a bus out West to hike and just explore random places. Pretty awesome for 19 years old.

John is a Colorado Trail thru-hiker. He’s going slowly and enjoying every minute. After his rest days here in Leadville, he’s going to go on an epic hike to summit fourteen 14ers (peaks over 14k feet), and invited me to join him for one. It sounds crazy enough that I just might do it.

The last couple of days, I’ve realized that the best part of this trip isn’t the racing, the scenery, or exploring new places- It’s the people that I’ve met along the way. The scouts in Whiteman Vega, the locals in Breck, Dejay & friends, the hikers, Wild Bill, Art… everyone. We tell our stories, and everyone inspires everyone else in some way. It’s something I didn’t expect to get out of this trip, and it’s beautiful.

I was almost ready to head out the door yesterday when I realized that I didn’t have my Garmin (705). I went back to my room and looked in the usual spots- computer bag, race bag, etc.

No dice.

I spent an hour tearing apart and re-packing everything I had in the room and still couldn’t find it. I had a sinking feeling that one of the hikers that had been staying at the hostel might have “accidentally” picked it up. After exhausting all searches, I figured I was going to have to buy another one, and ended up driving an hour and a half to the REI in a western suburb of Denver to get a Garmin 500.

By the time I got back, it was after 3:00, and I didn’t want to chance doing the entire loop (the directions/map aren’t always clear, so it can take a good chunk of time to navigate), so I decided to ride the closer part of the loop and up to the Continental Divide.

Then I went to put my shoes on and found that my 705 had not been stolen, but had been safe and sound in my left Mavic since the day before. Crap.

I headed out on my ride. The initial part was hard, but not impossible. I didn’t start walking until the Indiana Creek jeep trail. It was steep and gnarly. Most of the time, the grade on my Garmin didn’t drop below 25%, and I saw as high as 39% more than once. The elevation was 10K and increasing as well. I felt as if I was going to black out a few times. That section is going to be a death march next week.

After that part, the remainder of the climb up Boreas Pass was gentle and scenic. Unlike the day before, there was no snow storm…

I turned around and descended back down the course in to Breck. That part is going to be fuuuuun.

Today, I battled Heaven.

Loop #1 of the Breck 100 starts by climbing the ski hill on the outskirts of town. As I approached the mountain, the sky over my head was blue and sunny, but a black cloud hung over the top of Peak 9. Once I found the Ski Hill Access road, the rain had started. As I climbed, it sprinkled on and off, but then started to hail and thunder once I was a mile or so up. I put my jacket on and kept going…

A few minutes later, the hail stopped, but as I rounded 10.5K feet or so, it started to sleet. Eventually, after a lot slow uphill grinds, dizzy spells, and walking, I was above the treeline. The road became nearly unridable… the grade on my Garmin read 25 -35%, and the gravel road turned in to a rock-covered jeep trail. The skies had momentarily cleared, so I alternated wallking and riding as I navigated the switchbacks.

I finally reached the Wheeler Trail- the singletrack that would eventually cross the mountain and lead down to the base on the other side. However, as soon as I turned off, something crazy happened. The wind started to gust, and suddenly, I could barely see the narrow strip of singletrack in front of me. Fog? No… something was hitting my face…

It was a blizzard.

The snow was blinding, and the wind was gusting so hard that I could barely stay on the trail. I didn’t want to stop and freeze, so all I could do was keep steadily rolling forward. Then, almost as suddenly as it started, the blizzard was gone.

Soon after the snow stopped, I reached the final grunt over Wheeler Pass.

In my hypoxic brain, I’d conquered both heaven and earth. The ride back down was insane- until I was well below the treeline, I didn’t feel “right,” so I decended slowly.

At least the view was nice.

The remainder of the trail was not nearly as hard (other than the initial climb up the Peaks Trail). As I rode back in to town, the thunder clouds rolled back in. Luckily, the only thing between me and a the sweet nectar of a hot omelet at the bakery down the street was a hot shower and a little walking…

Looking at some of the comments, I guess I’m not totally clear about the lag in time between my days and when I post about them- in the interest of my own personal safety, I make it a habit to not post about being somewhere while I’m still there… so right now, I’m NOT actually in Fruita. Ryan and I left yesterday afternoon to head back to Breck so we’d be closer to the airport (he flew out today). I’m in a different location now that’s convenient to most parts of the Breck 100 course. So… that being said…

The Edge Loop
One thing I’ve learned to appreciate since I’ve been on this trip is birds (except for the Magpie, of course, which is the Vuvuzela of the bird world). Birds wake up every morning about the same time I do, and, since everywhere I’ve stayed on this trip has been either a tent or a building with no air conditioning, I have woken up every single morning to the sound of birds singing. I’m going to miss that when I get home…

Ryan and I were up with the birds Tuesday morning to get an early start on the Edge Loop at Bookcliffs. It was listed as 5/5 on the “coolness” factor and is apparently one of the first IMBA “Epic” rides. So, of course, we had to do it.

We headed out of camp onto the Frontside loop, which eventually led us to a long haul on a gravel road. It wound through an awesome canyon then started to climb up the ridge. It climbs a pretty long way- from around 5300ft up to more than 7300 feet. Along the top, there were a few more miles of rolling (steep) hills followed by a descent.

Remember in my last post how I said that when in Fruita, going over the top of a hill or around an unfamiliar corner can be precarious because the trail is likely to do something unexpected? Well, the jeep roads on the Edge Loop are no exception… in three different spots, the road was not much more than a bench-cut strip of rocks that plunged downward at an insane grade. I’m not ashamed to admit, I walked down the first two. I decided to take a chance on the last one, and, with my ass nearly on my rear wheel and my saddle in my stomach, I inched my way down, mentally screaming at myself to keep looking ahead and NOT over the edge of the cliff that was to my right.

It was terrifying.

We finally made it to some singletrack which soon gave way to something that was more like what you’d see in an adventure race than a mountain bike trail… a ~30ft rock race that’s occasionally a waterfall. There were several ropes to help you get you and your bike to the bottom (see gallery photos and photos on Ryan’s Blog)

Once we were down that, we picked though occasional rock gardens our way through a dry creek bed. That eventually led us back to the “normal” Bookcliff trail system, where Ryan managed to endo, twist an ankle, and start to bonk. With a little encouraging and some fig newtons, we eventually made it back to the 18 road trailhead and up to camp.

I really wanted to ride more trails in the area, but my legs were still destroyed from Sunday’s race. So, we packed up and headed back to Breck so we’d be a bit more rested/closer to Denver for Ryan’s flight out the following day. That was some nice singletrack (though I still like Arkansas better)…