Day 3: Things die out here

Distance: 90 miles
Feet of climbing: 4,400
Weather conditions: Sunny and hot, winds out of the WNW at 25 mph, high of 97 degrees

Keri and I are at the Rifle Public Library for two things: air conditioning and a wireless connection (Bluetooth internet connection is wonderful in a pinch, but it’s reaaaallly slow).

It’s 6:20 p.m. and it’s still 97 degrees. We’re camping at the Rifle Middle School up the street and about 1,500 tents are crammed onto the sports field with no rhyme or reason. Should make for an interesting journey to the Port-a-Potty in the middle of the night.

Today’s ride was hot but awesome. Many times during the past three days, I’ve been struck by the harshness of the landscape. It looks just as you would expect the Wild West to look: rocky and dry, with tumbleweeds dancing across the horizon. I wouldn’t be surprised to see a tipped over stagecoach and skeletons.

As you can see from our opening photo, we found the skeleton.

We were on the road by 6:15 a.m. We followed Route 13 out of Craig along the backside of a mountain. It was unbelievably cold in the shade of the cliffs. About 10 miles into the ride, the wind kicked up, making us worry that this would be a long and miserable climb. But it passed again and would blow off and on during the ride, but not relentlessly.

The first 26 miles were up and down. Both of us felt like our brakes were rubbing. We even stopped several times to make sure they weren't. I suspect we did not eat enough after the ride yesterday. It was an easy ride and we weren't hungry, so we got busy doing other things and didn't eat until dinner. Bad idea.

Trying to make up the calorie deficit, we devoured breakfast burritos at the 26 mile aid station before the climb up Nine Mile Gap, and pasta salad and an "energy wrap" (peanut butter, honey, raisins & bananas in a flour tortilla) at the top of the climb. Ride the Rockies uses vendors at the rest stops. It means the choices are better than bananas and oreo cookies, but you have to pay for the food. They do provide bananas or oranges for free.

The approach to Nine Mile Gap was a relatively easy grade for 14 miles until we reached the gap and aid station at 7,485 feet.

After devouring our "lunch," we hit the road for a fabulous 10-mile descent from 7,500 feet to 6,200 feet. There was no wind on this side of the pass, so we sailed down at speeds of about 36 mph on the steeper grades. We kept the speed at about 25 mph for another five miles or so until we reached the town of Meeker. We stopped at an Ace Hardware for bungee cords and use of a clean bathroom (the port-a-potty lines had been ridiculous at all the rest stops).

After Meeker, we started the next climb – a steady 20-mile ascent back up to 7,500 feet. Road construction, aggressive tractor-trailer drivers and winds of about 20 mph controlled our speed. The entire climb took about 2 ½ hours.

Then, the moment we had been waiting for – the 16-mile descent into Rifle. It was sweet, for about 9 miles. The first part was steep enough to really bomb down fast in an aero-tuck. When the grade leveled out we kept powering down, but suddenly we were faced with a stiff wind blowing up the mountain. I don't know the speed of the wind, but it was so strong that we had to work to go 13mph on a significant grade. What a buzz kill!

As we came into town, we spotted a City Market grocery store on the left and swung in for some juice and stronger sunscreen. Once inside, we decided we should go ahead and get some dinner. Dinner has been a bit of an issue at times. The community dinner often runs out of food by the time we get to it and the restaurants are packed with long waits. And we wanted something healthy. So we gathered some greens, tomatoes, pasta & artichoke salad (really delicious!), a pear, some dinner rolls and a whole roast chicken. Yup, we bungied that chicken to the back of my bike!

So, we had a healthy dinner, got the shuttle to the library, and in a few minutes, we'll be looking for a bar to have our daily Fat Tire before turning in. And tomorrow we ride to the Hotel Colorado!

Day 2: Short and sweet

Distance: 44 miles
Feet of climbing: 700
Weather conditions: Sunny, chilly and – you guessed it – windy

We woke up to frost this morning but, knowing it would warm up quickly, we left the arm warmers, jacket, vest and long-finger gloves behind. Since it was a short ride – and the Sherpa told us he wouldn't have our tent set up until 11 a.m. -- we opted to enjoy a leisurely breakfast in Steamboat Springs before heading out (and so did a few other cyclists, as you can tell from the photo).

The route took us through the Yampa River Valley, where rolling farmland is outlined with huge rock formations.

We arrived at the Moffat County High School at about noon, leaving us the afternoon to catch up on our blogs and me time for a much-needed massage. Keri's blog gives you a good view of Tent City. Wonder where all the cyclists store their bikes? Click on the photo below and take a look at the tennis courts.


Tomorrow, we head to Rifle for a 90-mile ride featuring two long climbs. Because the last 17 miles takes us into heavy commuter traffic returning from oil and natural gas fields north of Rifle late in the afternoon, it’s strongly suggested that we get finished by 4:30 p.m. It will be an early morning for us tomorrow – we hope to be on the road by 6 a.m.

Day 2: 44 Easy Miles

I wasn't sure how I would feel this morning after abusing myself so hard yesterday. We were pressed for time last night - arriving late, visiting the medic, showering and finding dinner in town. We were dead exhausted by the time we crashed into bed. I slept hard for at least 4 hours before I had to get up and - you know. The sky was full of stars. It was too cold to hang out and take them all in, but it does make the trip to the port-a-potty more enjoyable. My chest was loosening up and it felt OK. I went back to sleep knowing today would be a better day.

Today was my test ride day. I had picked up a 49cm S-Works Roubaix last night (they didn't have an S-Works Ruby in my size). That bike is so light! It's close in weight to my Cannondale, maybe lighter because it has Dura Ace components. compared to the loaded rig (which isn't a light bike to begin with) that I've been riding, it felt like a rocket!

Today's route was short and mostly down hill. There were a few short, easy climbs. The wind picked up toward the late morning and was in our face (of course), but it was a perfect recovery ride.

Since the route was so short, we were encouraged to hang around Steamboat Springs for a while so as not to beat the Sherpa or baggage trucks to Craig. And there's nothing to do in Craig.

It was chilly this morning too, though not as cold as yesterday, and I didn't have the luggage capacity on the demo bike to pack the layers as we peeled them off. So we dressed light and shivered into town for breakfast at Winona's.

The sun was warm when we got onto the course, but the air was still pleasantly cool for most of the ride. It was an uneventful ride. Not much scenery. No significant climbs. I had fun with the demo bike and swapped bikes with Lisa for a few miles so she could try it. I like the Ruby, BTW, it's a very comfortable riding position.

We got to Craig with a whole day ahead of us. Plenty of time to reorganize the luggage, write 2 days of blogs and grab dinner in town. The sun is going down now and it's getting chilly. It should be a little warmer than last night... hopefully... the port-a-potties are a mighty hike from Sherpaville.

Tomorrow will be another long day - 90 miles and 4,400 of climbing. You might not hear from us til Wednesday.

Day 1: 99.5 miles, 4,700 ft of climbing, half a lung

Where do I begin? Perhaps where I left off.

It started sprinkling as we left Starbucks Saturday night. We walked out to the corner and flagged a shuttle bus - such great service!

It sprinkled off and on as we prepared for bed, and at exactly the moment I pulled the ten zipper closed it started to shower. After organizing riding cloths and repacking the duffel, we settled into our sleeping bags. Something was not right. Theo the Sherpa had topped off our air mattresses just a little while ago and mine was way too soft. But it was pouring rain out there.

I hoped that it was just soft and not leaking, but I knew from experience that I was most likely in for a long, uncomfortable night. Sherpa services buy the cheap Coleman mattresses which have a high-percentage defective rate. I've bought a few myself that leaked right out of the box. So, on the first night of an event, a certain percentage of those new mattresses are going to leak (I talked to two other neighbors yesterday who slept on the ground Saturday night). This is the second time I've drawn that card. Maybe I should play Lotto.

So there I was, the night before the big ride, sleeping on the ground. And to make matters worse, I could feel that cold moving into my chest. It was a long night. I think I selpt an hour.

It starts getting light here before 5 AM. We were up and moving by 5:30. And it was COLD!! This is one of the tough things about mountain tour riding. It can be in the 30s or 40s when you start out in the morning, but then the forcast was for it to be around 90. On a 100 mile day, waiting til the sun is warm isn't really an option.

Since the ride started with a long climb, I didn't bother with leg warmers, I put on arm warmers, vest and a jacket. (We immediatly got complements on our BOBbies outfits!) By the time we were ready to start riding, the sun was up over the mountain and it was warm. I took the jacket and long-finger gloves off.

The starting climb was beautiful! Perfect grade, breathtaking scenery. Speaking of breath, mine was already taken. My lungs were heavy and I had to keep my heartrate low in order to get enough air to keep moving. I was actually kind of amazed that at 9,000 feet I was able to climb in such a compromised state.

After that climb came a quick descent, followed by 30 miles of down-hill false flats with a few short, easy climbs. We breezed along at 22-24 mph. At the 47 mile lunch stop, I was feeling pretty good, except for my lungs which hurt like hell and threatened to shut down at the least exertion. A few times I had accelerated and paid for it with several minutes of painful weezing and coughing afterward.

If you look at the profile, you can see that the easy part of the ride was over after the lunch stop. The false flats tipped upward and were interrupted by climbs - not steep grades, but the exertion was constant for 16 miles to the next rest stop. And the wind was picking up and gusting hard. Most of the time it was a crosswind, but many times the road turned into it. Climbing into the gusting wind was almost more than I could handle.

I faltered a lot. I had to stop and rest frequently. My lungs were getting tighter and tighter and the dry air was burning my trachea and bronchi. It was scorching hot and the landscape was dry and desolate. There was no shade anywhere. We were roasting. In the frigid morning air, we had forgotten to apply or pack sunscreen.

Aid Station 4 seemed to get farther and farther away as I suffered. I felt like I would have to SAG. I had trained so hard for this epic ride, I didn't want to quit. But the climb up Rabbit Ears Pass after the aid station would be much steeper and I was struggling to breathe on 3-4 % grades.

My legs, however, felt great.

At the stop, we talked over the options. I didn't think I could make the climb. I was afraid that I might be doing more damage to myself. I decided I would SAG.

But I couldn't do it. I could not get in a van. I could not miss the climb, and I could definitely not miss the descent!

So we set off up the climb, slowly. I was able to hold just under 5 mph and breathe. My legs were fine. I felt like I hadn't really used them. I set myself up in the 28 ring and shifted between the 27 and 29 cogs. I was grateful for the gearing options!

I didn't look at the clock, but with the slow speed and frequent stops for me to catch my breath, it probably took us close to 2 hours to make that 5 mile climb. Despite my condition, we were still able to pass a lot of people. Several other riders were struggling - with heat or altitude. It also looked like a lot of people were taking the SAG wagon. I saw countless SAG vehicles loaded with bikes and people. I figured that was always an option if I could go no further on this climb, but I had to try.

My computer seemed to be lagging a little behind the route mileage, so when we came around the final corner and saw a gathering of cyclists and SAG vehicles, I thought it might be an intermediate water stop. But as we pulled up I saw the Continental Divide sign and knew we'd made it!

Unfortunately, the reward for this climb is not quickly forthcoming. The road rolls up and down along the top of the divide for 5 miles. The wind was very strong up there and, as luck would have it, right in our faces. The scenery up there is stunning. Lush green forests and meadows, with little patches of snow and occasional glimpses of the far horizon - long valleys and snow-topped mountain ranges. If I hadn't felt like shit, I would have really appreciated it. But as it was, it was the longest, most frustrating 5 miles of my life! The wind was relentless, infuriating, shoving and taunting us. I wanted to shake my fist at it. I wanted to scream, but my voice was gone and I had no breath to spare. I wanted to throw my bike in a ditch and sit in the grass and cry. I just wanted my hard-earned descent, dammit! Would this ever end?

Finally, at last, thank God, I could see the yellow warning sign in the distance. My favorite sign - warning trucks to use a low gear - steep grades for the next 7 miles. We stopped and waited for some riders to get a head start, when there was a long enough break, Lisa sent me on to my reward. And oh was it worth every burning breath I had suffered all day. Seven miles of uninterrupted, no-brakes bombing. I passed everyone I came upon. No one passed me. When the grade wasn't steep enough to maintain speed, I pedaled.

The scenery was stunning. I could see for miles across a valley of rolling green pastures to a ridge of snow-topped rocky mountains. I'd love to share it with you, but there was no way I was going to interrupt my skydive to take a photo. Sorry :-)

Lisa and I regrouped at the bottom for the ride into town. It was all down hill from there.

I didn't check the time, but I think it was close 6 PM when we arrived at the High School. We had started out a little after 7 AM.

I was worried about my lungs, so we walked up to the medic van. there were several guys in there with road rash. One of the guys who I'd seen suffering on the climb was laying down and they were preparing to take him to the hospital - I think, for fluids. The staff was really wonderful - so friendly and caring. Kelly, an emergency nurse, talked to me about my symptoms. She didn't seem to have any options. She said an antihistomine would make my throat feel even more dry. But she didn't seem concerned with me continuing to ride since I wasn't feeling altitude symptoms. She checked my lungs and said they sounded fine. The bronchial distress was irritation from breathing hot dry air. Humid air would be the only thing to help that, and there's no place to get that around here. Then she checked my oxygen saturation. It was 98%. She said, for someone from sea level, 91 or 92% would be considered very good.

Was it the anti-oxydent vitamines I've been taking during my training, the altitude concoction we purchased, or the many hours of endurance training? Probably the combination. But I'm certain that is why I was able to make it through this ride at altitude in my condition.

When I was awake and miserable in the middle of the night, I was feeling sorry for myself that I had trained so hard for this event and now felt it was threatened by a #@%&ng cold. The purpose of my training was to be able to enjoy each day, not be wiped out at the end, or miserable the next. It turns out my training my have just saved my ride.

Day 1: The long and windy road

Course: Frisco to Steamboat Springs
Distance: 99 miles
Feet of climbing: 4,700
Weather conditions: Sunny with gusting winds


If you were looking for this post on Sunday evening, my apologies. After 7 hours on the road followed by a pasta dinner and a bottle of Fat Tire, I needed to sleep. You cyclists are probably doing the math right now. If it took Keri and Lisa 7 hours to ride 99 miles, their average speed must have been…..SLOW!

The course was challenging, but not beyond our abilities. There were two significant climbs. The first was right out of the chute – 500 feet or so at an average grade of 6%. The grade was OK. The cold was unbearable, since the side of the mountain we climbed was in the shade. The second came at mile 73 when we climbed for 4 miles toward the Continental Divide and Rabbit Ears Pass. Our legs handled the climb beautifully.

No, the terrain didn’t define yesterday’s ride. It was defined by two things out of our control: health and wind.

Keri’s been fighting a bad cold since we arrived in Colorado last Thursday (I had the cold the previous week and got antibiotics, nasal spray and an expectorant from the doctor the day before we left). She started on an over-the-counter expectorant and megadoses of vitamin C. But by Saturday night she was in bad shape. I wondered silently if she was going to be able to ride the next day. She wondered out loud was understandably upset at the prospect of sagging on the first day because of a cold. I felt so bad for her.

Of course, anyone who knows Keri also knows that she’s not going to give up a ride that easily. So, armed with a packet of Kleenex, we set out in 40-degree temperatures for Swan Mountain. She wheezed and gasped for air for the remaining 90-plus miles. We pulled over every couple of miles so she could catch her breath. At the stop before Rabbit Ears Pass, she decided to sag in so she’d be able to ride the remaining 6 days. That lasted all of 5 minutes. She was back on the bike, determined to huff and puff her way to the Continental Divide. By this time, it was about 4 p.m. We had a little more than 20 miles to go, with the promise of an incredible descent into Steamboat Springs. After a quick stop at Starbucks, we pulled into the high school at about 6 p.m.



The other thing that made today so difficult was the wind. You think we'd be used to be, having battled unusually windy conditions in Florida this spring. But on this ride, we were travelling through barren terrain. The rocky hillsides, prairie grass and shrubs provided no protection from the 30-plus mph winds. A couple of times the gusts were so strong that we could barely control the bikes, taking a little bit of the thrill out of the best part of Riding the Rockies: descending.

Still, when we pulled into the high school, sunburned and wind burned, we felt a huge sense of accomplishment -- both for persevering and for having trained so much this winter. All those 100-mile rides into headwinds this spring paid off.

Huddled Down in Sherpaville

Well, Florida followed us here. All that cold weather last week is ancient history. Looks like we won't have to worry about being cold. It is still dry and chilly at night, which makes for good sleeping in the tent.

The altitude has not been an issue yet, but now I know what it's like to be Joy. The downside of hydrate, hydrate, hydrate is that I have to pee, pee, pee ALL THE TIME! Having to get up 6 times in the night was bad enough in a hotel room. Tonight it will involve a hike through tent city.

We're all checked in and settled into our tent. Despite the the midnight-potty-run issue, it's fun to be in Sherpaville. Cyclists are a friendly lot and it's easy to get to know people. According to Theo the Sherpa, the tents are set up at random so we're likely to have different neighbors each day.

RTR, so far seems to be a well-organized ride. The map booklet they put together is by far the best I've ever seen! It is provided as PDF on their website, but at registration they gave us a nicely printed and spiral bound book. They also have a regular shuttle service that runs back and forth from town to the tent city. They'll pick us up anywhere we flag them down. We just grabbed a passing shuttle on Main Street and rode to Starbucks (for T-Mobile access).

Several bike manufacturers are here offering bike demos. For Monday's ride from Steamboat Springs to Craig, Lisa will Demo a Cannondale Synapse WDS and I'll Demo a Specialized S-Works Roubaix. I suspect it will be a nice break from hauling my heavy rig, hopefully I won't get too spoiled.

The weather still looks to be holding. There have been numerous thunderstorms in the surrounding mountains all afternoon. It's looked ominous and the wind has been pushing hard on the tent, but the weather seems to be moving to the right and left of us. We're in town now, so no telling what we'll find when we get back there. It would not be a good thing to have a thunderstorm on Lisa's first night of camping!

I've located the Starbucks in Steamboat Springs. Of course, after riding 100 miles in the mountains, I may not want to ride there to post. Craig offers no internet access that I could find in advance, so we'll be relying on the bluetooth there for sure.

I hear thunder.

Community spirit

It’s Ride the Rockies Eve and the excitement’s building. This is my first multi-day cycling event and I’m definitely on sensory overload. There are so many people of all ages, obvious abilities (one cyclist will be powering up the mountain with an artificial leg) and not-to-obvious fitness levels. You could make people watching an art form at one of these events. There are people who travel thousands of miles by themselves to Ride the Rockies. There are families. There are couples. There are groups of friends. And all have a story to tell. Perhaps that's the most fascinating aspect of this event for me so far. I love hearing the stories...of where people are from, how many of these kinds of events they have [or haven't] completed, their gearing ratio....the list goes on. BTW, the Bento Box is apparently a hot item here in the Rockies. We stopped for air at a local bike shop this morning and, seeing our Bento boxes, the manager exclaimed "Where did you get those!?!?" Apparently someone had come into the shop just minutes before looking for a Bento Box and the store owner had no idea what the rider was asking about.

Then there’s Sherpaville, The Tent City. OK, I haven’t actually slept in the tent yet, but there’s a weird sense of instant community that's taken hold so quickly. Keri and I were one of the first cyclists to check in with Theo the Sherpa, so he gave us the first tent in line. Our address for the next seven nights: L1. Not exactly Wysteria Lane, but it will have to do. Tonight, we’re across the lane from a gal from Mount Dora who’s here by herself. She trained by riding the West Orange Trail for the past couple of months. Next to her is a man from Golden, Colo., about an hour South of Frisco. This is his first multi-day event, too. We haven’t met our other 1,000 or so neighbors, but it’s only the first night. By the end of the festivities back here in Frisco next Saturday, I’m sure we’ll have chatted with all of them at least once.

After setting up tent (OK, the Sherpa service set up the tent, I simply organized my gear for tonight and tomorrow), we showered in the high school locker room and got ready for dinner. The winds were kicking up and thunderstorms were approaching from two sides over the mountains. I’m writing this from the Backcountry Brewery. And yes, I’m having a beer. In fact, I just ordered a second. It could be a cold and wet night.

Tomorrow, we leave at 7 a.m. for Steamboat Springs – 99 miles that starts with a 500-foot climb right out of the box. Talk to you again on the backside.