I am without words to describe this…

Putting a Face on the Gulf Oil Leak

Tower Arch, Arches National Park, Utah

It’s been far too long. The desert evokes emotions few other landscapes can. There’s a sense of mystery that draws me in and encourages me to explore all the nooks and crannies of the canyon country. I need to get back.

So, as my faithful reader(s) of this blog have noticed, I’ve changed the name. I felt the old name was a little restrictive, and I didn’t want it to be pegged as just a cycling blog. I realized that most of my hobbies and adventures have one central theme – you guessed it – mountains. Whether it’s setting up my tripod in the predawn light to capture a sunrise reflection, or barreling down a sublime stretch of singletrack on my mountain bike, or just sitting back and marveling in the view, the mountains play a predominant role. So, I will use this space for thoughts and musings on all sorts of different adventures in nature, so that if anyone is inclined to know what I’ve been up to recently, they can find out. Thanks for reading.

Well my guilt from skipping out on the Salida Criterium didn’t last long, as Ty and I raced in the Table Mountain Criterium Series race last night. The races are held on the Colorado State Patrol Academy test track, which is on the top of South Table Mountain. It was definitely cool to be up there for a bike race! As for the track itself, it’s a 1.6(ish) mile loop with a slight uphill start/finish and a pretty fast descent on the backside. The corners are wide and smooth, and the pavement is in really good shape.

The field was about 50-60 riders, with the Men’s Cat 4, and Women’s Cat 3/4 all racing simultaneously. We were to ride 14 laps for the race. As criteriums normally do (so I hear), this one started fast. I felt comfortable riding and moving around in the main field, even in the corners. Within the first few laps I wondered why I had been so freaked out by criteriums. Of course, I have to remind myself that many criteriums are on city streets with sharper corners and more imperfections in the pavement. Anyway, I positioned myself in the top 1/3 of the main field by the fourth lap, and had every intention of trying to stay there and just ride out the race to get a feel for it.

And then, a lone rider broke free of the peloton, quickly gaining a couple hundred meters on the front. Whether I was just nervous, jumpy, or had an inflated perception of the strength of my legs, I decided to follow. I accelerated and appeared to be bridging the gap to the lone breakaway rider. However, the course turned onto the last leg of the lap, uphill, and I quickly lost steam. Within a half lap the peloton had caught up, with me doing nothing more than just helping them catch the day’s first breakaway. What’s more, and worse, is that I burned most of my matches up in that burst of speed, so that while the peloton kept going strong, I didn’t.

It’s not like that was the first time I’d ever been dropped; in fact, it had just happened at the road race on Saturday, but this one stung. To watch everyone ride by as you go all out, and still are not able to keep up, hurts. I ended up pretty much time trialing (in the sense that I couldn’t draft off anyone very often) the rest of the race, and finished about a half lap behind the main field. Lesson learned. One shall not, whilst riding one’s first criterium, attempt an overly aggressive move when one has more than 30 minutes of high speed racing left, especially if one is not absolutely sure one can keep it up. Next time, just ride in the pack and try for the field sprint!

In the end, it was a tremendously fun race. I enjoyed the atmosphere, the course, the race itself (except for the aforementioned tough lesson), and the fact that I don’t always have to travel to exotic locales (like Durango and Salida!) to go test myself against other riders. I look forward to trying a couple more of these before the series is over, and maybe a couple of those exotic crits as well!

This past weekend was the Salida Omnium, a three day event consisting of a time trial, road race, and criterium. Ever eager to dive deeper into racing, I enthusiastically signed up for all three races. The week ahead of the race was filled with a strange mix of emotions, part excitement and part dread for the upcoming weekend. I don’t really know why my nerves were so bad, because I really haven’t raced enough to have any sort of expectation of outcome.

Friday, after driving down to Salida and checking into the hotel, was the time trial. The course was an 8 mile out-and-back with “one hill.” Little did I know this one hill was descended at the very start, and re-climbed at the very end! I was excited for the time trial, and actually did better than I thought I would: 19th place with a time of 18:46 (the winner did the course in 16:53). Saturday’s road race was a 12 mile loop with one major climb and about 1300 feet of elevation gain per lap. My category (SM 4) did 4.5 laps (the finish is at the top of the climb). It was a hot grueling day spent off the back of the main pack, and I was seriously questioning what I thought was so great about this racing thing. But, I took pride in finishing, even if it was in 47th place with a time of 3:24:40 (winner: about 2:45). I was certainly more proud of myself than I was on Sunday, when Ty and I bailed on the criterium. I could give any number of excuses, but the fact is that we wimped out. Perhaps seeing 2 crashes in earlier races which required 3 people to be taken to the hospital in ambulances freaked us out a bit. The excuse we like giving is that Ty had to be back for an afternoon wedding, and with the delays from the accidents, our race would not have been over soon enough to make it. Whatever the excuse, I still have not raced in a criterium, and I’m not entirely happy with skipping out yesterday.

Today was a new day, time to forget about the past and enjoy my last day off of the weekend. I had planned on using today to recover from three races in three days, but since I hadn’t raced yesterday, I decided it was a perfect day to bring my mountain bike out of hibernation and ride on some dirt. I headed up to Alderfer/Three Sisters park in Evergreen and combined several excellent trails to make about a 10 mile loop. It was 2 hours of complete joy, and I had a big grin on my face the whole time. With all the training and racing on the road this year, I sometimes forget that my initial foray into the greatness that is cycling was on a mountain bike. There is nothing that can beat riding that flowing ribbon of dirt, with no traffic, and nothing but the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. I realized that I truly miss mountain biking, and have decided to make that the focus of the latter part of the season. It was great to be out to “ride,” not “train.” Here are a few pictures from the day:

The beginning of the trail.

An old pond (stock pond?)

My bike was a good sport after being neglected for most of the season!

View of Mt. Evans from the top of Evergreen Mountain.

Another section of sweet singletrack.

There were still wildflowers in the meadows.

With the Salida Omnium just a month away, I decided to take full advantage of my holiday weekend to get in some quality training time. I’d always wanted to ride up the Mt. Evans road, the terminus of which is the highest paved road in North America. It was always one of those rides that I would do “when I was in shape,” and thus, was always unfulfilled. This year, I figured with all the early season training I’d done for the Iron Horse, that there was no better time as far as my overall fitness was concerned. So, I went to bed early Saturday night in preparation for my rendesvouz with Evans.

Sunday dawned cool and overcast, and as I began the ride from Bergen Park (getting to the base of the Mt. Evans road would take me over Squaw/Juniper passes) I wondered what the weather would be like up high. I had driven the road on numerous occassions in the past (including 2 weeks prior) and had never once experienced a clear day. It had either snowed or rained on me every time I’d been to the summit.

Nevertheless, I kept riding, trying to keep an easy pace over Squaw Pass so as to save as much energy as possible for the main climb. I found it difficult to back off the gas, and had to really watch myself to stay at a reasonable pace.  As I climbed, I passed (and was passed by) quite a few other cyclists out for a spin (conversations I overheard led me to believe many were in their final preparation for next weekend’s Triple Bypass, which goes over Squaw Pass first before eventually ending in Avon). After about 1h 45m I reached Echo Lake, and the beginning of the Mt. Evans road.

Although chilly, the sky had begun to clear and I optimistically headed for the summit. The first 7 miles (about halfway) went really well. I took a few breaks, as I didn’t want to overdo it, and also I couldn’t keep my camera in the bag (it was the first clear day I’d ever had up there). Here’s a picture from the ascent.

The real “fun” began as the road passed Summit Lake (actually about 5 road miles from the summit) and the grade sharply increased. I had considered taking a break at the lake for a snack, but ended up just stopping long enough to snap a few photos. I really wanted to get to the top and back down before any thunderstorms that may have been brewing rolled in. Here’s a photo from Summit Lake (note: the lake had been nearly completely frozen over just two weeks ago):

Turns out, not eating a snack when I stopped at the lake proved to be a mistake. I still made the summit, or at least, the parking lot (you actually have to climb the last 100 feet or so to the summit from the lot, which I was not going to attempt in my current state and in cycling shoes), but I struggled up the last few switchbacks. The full force of the altitude suddenly hit me within a mile of the top, and it was all I could to to keep turning the pedals over. However, I did make the top and took this photo to prove it!

After 10 minutes or so on the top, I pointed the wheels downhill. I was still feeling pretty bad at that point and it was all I could do to steer. Furthermore, the extremely cracked and bumpy asphalt (a condition created by the freeze-thaw cycle of the tundra on which it’s built) made for a rather painful descent. You really notice the bumps on a rigid road bike and tires pumped up to 110 psi! Throw in some crazy out of state drivers on the narrow road and you have the makings of a sketchy ride. But, I did make it back to the car, and after 5 hours of riding (much of it painful) I could say that I had ridden Mt. Evans.

I really enjoyed the ride (except for the bumps) and look forward to doing again in the future. In total, I rode 67 miles and gained about 7200 feet in elevation. Not a bad workout!

The cyclist – motorist tensions are reaching new levels of animosity in the Denver/Boulder area. Unfortunately, the few bad apples on each side are claiming the spotlight right now.

Drivers threaten to block Boulder bike event

Bike race facing uphill climb in Deer Creek Canyon

I’ve been reading about a cool Photoshop technique, to essentially create what looks like photos of miniatures. It employs a selective focus, tilt-shift process. You can read more about it here. Anyway, here’s my first attempt, a picture of some fishing boats near Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco, CA, which I took just recently on a trip. I’m not sure it captures the whole effect (it’s best to have a picture from above, as if you were looking down on a model or diorama), but I think it worked out pretty well. And, speaking of California, stay tuned for a trip report and more pictures in the near future!

Click on image for full size view.

Well, the day arrived, and I gave it all I had. Last Saturday was the Iron Horse Bicycle Classic, the object of my training for the last 6 months. I’ll post some pictures in a couple days, once I process them, but I wanted to express some of my impressions of the weekend now.

We drove to Durango last Thursday in intermittent rain, and arrived to cloudy skies. The weather was on the back of my mind all day Friday, as it rained on and off the whole day. On Friday, Ty and I drove to Silverton over the passes (Coal Bank and Molas) to scout the course, which neither of us had ridden. After carbo loading that night, we awoke Saturday to low clouds and fog, but at least it was dry.

Our group (Men’s Cat. IV/V, 19-34) was the fourth to leave the start line, and immediately I knew the start was a lot faster than I expected. I was cruising along fairly effortlessly in the middle of the pack, but I noticed some slight pain in my lower back. Could my seatpost height be off? I didn’t have time to think about it, as our peloton was passing around a road pylon, which the rider in front of me collided with, and I narrowly avoided. I don’t know how many were involved in the crash, but I’m still surprised I wasn’t one of them.

When the real climbing began, the peloton split into two main groups, and I found myself in the middle between the two. That’s when the real pain started. My minor back pain was really starting to bother me, and the altitude was sapping my strength more than I expected it would. Coal Bank pass seemed like it would never end, and after a short downhill reprieve, I struggled up Molas. When I finally crested the top, my back hurt bad enough that I considered (briefly) getting off the bike to stretch it out, but I figured that with six all downhill miles left, I would just tough it out.

The descent to Silverton was mercifully fast, and I soon found myself on Main Street, racing toward the opposite end of town. The road was slightly uphill, which was frustrating in my current state. The end couldn’t come fast enough. As soon as I stopped pedaling, the waves of pain from my back flooded through me. Even now, I still feel it (four days later).

My final stats:

Distance: 49 miles

Time: 3 hours, 10 minutes, 13 seconds

Total ascent: ~6650 feet

I didn’t hit my goal of 3 hours, which gives me good incentive for next year. I’m disappointed, but considering that I rode 3/4 of the race with back spasms, I’m not surprised. I suspect that I didn’t get my seatpost height quite right when I unloaded my bike. It’s an inexcusable mistake on my part, with potentially large impacts on my riding ability and comfort. The wrong height affects the pedaling stroke and efficiency, as well as straining muscles in the legs and back. It’s a mistake I won’t make again, for sure.

Overall, I enjoyed the race and the weekend. Durango is a great town, and it was really fun hanging out with fellow cyclists for a few days. The race served to whet my appetite for more, so I’ll have to find a few more good races to test myself later this season.

Stay tuned for pictures!