Ready to Roll

The girls in Jamestown, CO











The girls got their longest ride in ever -- 75 Miles -- as final preparation for their century ride in two weeks.
They are ready!

This route started from North Loveland, and puts the hardest climbing of their ride (Lyons to Jamestown) right in the middle, before looping back on different country roads to the start. I am in an awkward position where not doing anything all day, and even all week, would have more benefit for me than Leadville, but they wanted me to ride along as well. Though I suspect it's mostly for mechanicals and flats (none!) and routefinding, I also try to focus on nutrition, water, keeping the pace appropriate, and making sure there's no stopping on the climbs (possibly by slowing down the initial pace)...oh, and getting up early in the morning to beat the heat, rain, and traffic -- without being too overbearing (I hope)! With all the warning and mental preparation, they all handled the climb up to Jamestown easily! They'll be passing girls on the climb. And it was fun to hear them enjoy rolling past farms, ranches, and small towns, that most people never see on the highways, and enjoying the early morning start when the weather is cool and you can smell the plants in the air, yet still have the rest of your day when done. These are the things that I love about cycling!

We took a break at the top at the Jamestown Merc -- I've never been there, and it's certainly an iconic and cycling-friendly place.




They got a sense for the climb they had just done with a solid 7-mile no-pedals-needed descent back down the canyon.

So, they're ready. It's been fun watching them stay focused and help each other out, on the long rides as well as the weekday rides. They took the training seriously enough that they'll undoubtedly finish the century and be able to enjoy every bit of it.

*

Por moi, that wasn't ideal Leadville tapering on paper, but it's hard to justify not joining your wife for a bike ride when I'm used to riding solo and she's getting into it. I took it really easy and hung off the back, including the Jamestown climb, and I've found that cycling feels like a long, good stretch. The niggling pains that I had the day before and generally have during running weeks all summer went away after yesterday's ride. I have no soreness or strange pains from riding, which suggests I don't push too much, just a difference in "pep" in the legs that I would have if I hadn't run at all. But, I trust that will come back in the next couple days. I am stoked to get up high and out on the trail!

Carter Lake Ride

Nora, Deirdre, and J at Carter Lake


With their century ride coming up, J, Nora, and Deirdre were looking for a challenging training ride, and it's hard to beat the classic Masonville-Carter Lake Loop. This loop begins with great climbs past Horsetooth, a tougher climb to Carter Lake, and some rural cruising in between, but has sufficient shoulders and driver awareness to make it safer and less intimidating than some of the canyons. I've enjoyed this loop very much in the past, but hadn't ridden it this year, and was very pleased to be able to ride it with my wife and friends.

We met early at Spring Canyon Park, which makes for a 50 mile loop. By riding from our house, we would go above 60. After having ridden the dams the previous week, the girls were ready for the first climb, and soon settled into a steady grind up the hill. We regrouped after the first few climbs, and then on the first fast descent, I was happily surprised to see Deirdre come flying by, eventually catching up with another pack of riders! She's an aggressive and confident descender, so I lazily and unapologetically drafted behind her on the next downhill.

Finally we hit the Masonville turn, which was a new and enjoyable route for some of them. The girls mostly chatted, and I was happy enough to ride out for any support, but as it turns out we pretty much rotated so I had a chance to talk with them as well. Soon enough, it was starting to get warm out, we were already at 30 miles, and the Carter climb was in sight.

They weren't too happy with the sight of the climb, which I had warned them about, but (with one quick break) it took 13 or 14 minutes. Then we hit the best part of the ride: as soon as you crest the hill, the reservoir comes into view, the temperature drops noticeably, and the smell of pine trees is in the air. I don't think any of them had been to Carter Lake before, but it wouldn't have been nearly the same experience when driving there. We filled up on water and took some pictures around the lake, enjoying a slightly cooler breeze, before blasting downhill.

We wound our way back through country rodes, and Nora and I worked on some pacing again. Since a headwind picked up just a bit, this made a noticeable difference, but we'd end up pulling away from the others. We headed up Taft, making great time with no mechanicals, and finally hit the last few hills (which always seem bigger) after Coyote Ridge.

We hit Spring Canyon again with 56 on J's odometer -- a great ride! We ran a few errands by bike and then got some well-deserved Wahoo's for lunch. 62M/100k when we got back to our condo, J's farthest ride ever. The girls are looking great for the century ride, one more longer ride and they'll be set for sure!

Century Ride: Aurora, Parker, Castle Rock, Elizabeth

Hadn't been on the bike much, but with 60+ degree temps and sunshine in January, it seemed like a good option.

I didn't think I had a particular attachment to the distance, but it's a good psychological fitness gauage. I always wonder how easy/hard it is when I haven't ridden as much, though the running should (and does) make up for much of it, as I generally estimate it as a (very roughly) ~25 mile run equivalent. Still, I started wondering last month if I had ridden one in 2010 (and thought I would count a run instead of I wanted to consider some sort of annual non-motorized streak), and then reminded myself that I had, back in May. This is probably the longest gap of time between centuries in awhile or ever, but I'm happy to have a streak of 7 years now -- which pales in comparison to Felix's streak of double centuries, something which I have never done!

Unfortunately, it takes me 20 miles of soul-sapping and time-sapping traffic and MUPs just to get out to country roads to start a decent ride. Nonetheless, I headed down to Parker again to do some exploration between Parker and Castle Rock. I lost my hand-drawn map before I left my own zip code, so I improvised heavily (I initially intended to go further South instead of East to Elizabeth). The meat of the ride is shown here:



Everything in either direction of Franktown is gorgeous, and it was all new terrain to me. I thought that the Elizabeth-Kiowa area would have been flatter plains I enjoyed riding Black Forest a few times in the past, and I've suggested it to several people who were looking for rolling hill training (e.g. Ironman Wisconsin). I'm happy to say that this section, closer to Denver, has the same feel of rollers, some decent shoulders (especially towards Elizabeth) and a woodsy feel and scent of pine, with glimpses of Pikes. Some great climbing and descending between Franktown and Castle Rock, and back down into Parker from Hilltop Dr.



The early/middle miles were tougher than when I've been riding more, but I was happy to feel stronger deeper into the ride. Great to get out there on the bike this early in the year!

Baretooth and Horsefoot

I hadn't seen my friend Ben for a month and a half, as he was busy hitting all the midwest hot-spots for a few weeks: Twin Cities and Alexandria, MN; Iowa; and Chicago, if I recall correctly. In the meantime, though, he started reading "Born to Run" and also started running barefoot. I'm a big fan of both of these, though Ben had a few more good ideas which he's been up to: making your own duct-tape sandals (cool idea and very comfy!), and speed jump roping barefoot. I'm going to consider these for fun projects and training.

Anyway, earlier this summer, we had a few Thursday mornings of running up to Horsetooth. It had been awhile, so I was hoping he was game for it, even though CSU is back in session and he had a morning class. Luckily, time of day doesn't seem relevant to him: as long as it's fun and he can fit it in then he's game, sleep be damned! I feel the same way, except for the sleep part catches up with me more quickly in my old age...

I rode out from my house just after 5am. Now that August is almost over, that's entirely before dawn. Most people might curse being up that early -- including myself for most of my life -- but instead I cursed myself for not doing this more frequently: the stars were clearly visible; traffic was non-existent; the humidity was higher than it is after sunrise, and, coincidentally, the scents of plant life. I acknowledged a fox that crossed the street. As I rode, the Eastern sky lightened subtly, a glorious gift from a direction that otherwise merely provides the odor of livestock. Upon reaching Ben's house, and heading up to Horsetooth, the sun cleared the horizon, and not a cloud was visible in the sky. For some reason, this surprised me: the idea that you can't really tell just how clear it is until the sun is up. And this is just a plain Thursday -- 27 August 2009 -- that will never happen again, yet will happen always. I try not to take this magic for granted, but regret how many weeks pass between viewing of sunrises. I can't help but think of "Johnny Got His Gun", where the blind, deaf, faceless, quadruple-amputee Joe Bonham begins to mark the days as he feels the warmth of the sun on his skin. While he ultimately pounds out a frantic tirade against war, I also see him as trumpeting the beauty of the natural world, and the simple blessing of a sunrise. Here, we have the convenient excuse of being a "morning person" or no, but who, given a week to live, would not awaken for seven sunrises? Given a month, I should hope to choose the month, and see 31.

Back to this Thursday, or today's impression of one: Ben suggests we at least try running some of the trail barefoot. First, as a lark, but also (and perhaps more importantly) because his Facebook status said so! A plan committed to Facebook is a plan committed. The bottom of the trail, however, is just the right kind of wrong rockiness: medium-shaped stones that are too prolific and have strategically dispersed themselves across the trail, so we begin in our shoes. After the initial few turns, though, things clear up a bit, and we try a few hundred yards barefoot. Conversation ceases, breathing changes, and we both pick lines of self-preservation between rocks. A fun experiment, to be sure, but not sustainable, so we put back on our shoes and crank up the hill. We do find one more forgiving spot, in the shade just after the branch of the Horsetooth trail coming off of Soderberg, and we make it a bit further, including an occasional stretch of blissfully rock-free sand, which reminds us how running in shoes also doesn't convey temperature. Overall, we might have gotten a quarter-mile of barefoot running in total.

We put our shoes back on and headed to the top. Here, I should point out that we saw nobody on the trail, and this is my 7th or 8th time up top without any other parties, on perhaps Fort Collins' otherwise most popular trail, at the best time of day.

Thank you, Thursday.

We enjoy the view, pick up some leftover fireworks, and bomb down the hill, more often than not at speeds at the nexus of 'fun' and 'utterly reckless.' I sprain my ankle slightly, but fortunately run it off, focusing on keeping my foot pointed utterly straight, and we finish out the run.

We head back, I grab my bike, and head through campus with some time to spare. Unwittingly, I head past the track, and see some sort of women's calisthenic program, along with a few joggers. With some time to spare, I decide to try a barefoot lap to see how the track feels on my foot. 400 meters later, I have my answer: fantastic! At the start/finish line, I decide on one more lap, after glancing at my watch, to see how fast I can run barefoot. Up until now, I have no idea, and I submit to you, dear reader, that the normal internal clock is uncalibrated for the slightly increased focus and concentration required for barefoot running. I finish the next 400m, at pretty much the same pace as the first, and have my answer: something in the high 1:20's. Feeling great, I figure, why not finish the mile? Why not, indeed. The next splits are all in the 1:20's, and I'm even capable of a kick on the final backstretch. I'm not big into numbers themselves or being prideful, but I'm pleasantly surprised that slapping my feet barefoot for a mile takes less than six minutes. To this, I will add that I felt less out of breath than I would have in shoes, but my feet and calves were a bit more fatigued. So, not only is running barefoot fun, but it also might just figure into good speed workouts in the future, which might help my overall form.

Plus, good for the soul!

Fort Collins Duathlons

List of FC Duathlons (Stats to be updated over time)
All distances are round-trip, roughly from Old Chicago on Harmony and Timberline

Bike/Trailrun:
* (FC) Coyote Ridge/Blue Sky/Devil's Backbone
* (FC) Horsetooth MP
* (FC) Bobcat Ridge
* (FC) Reservoir Ridge (or any Foothills Trail access point)
* (FC) Round Mountain
- 9.5 miles trail
* (FC) Redstone Canyon
- Run: 18 miles hardpacked dirt road
* (Loveland/RMNP) Stormy Peaks from Dunraven TH
- Ride: 67 miles road/concrete, 5 miles hardpacked dirt (Dunraven Glade Road)
- Run: ~20 miles trail
* (Estes/RMNP) Twin Owls/Black Canyon
* (Estes/RMNP) Lawn Lake
* (Boulder) Chatauqua "FC Super Double Mesa"
- Ride: 100 (an extra couple miles scrubbed to make it even!)
- Run: ~13 miles trail

Bike/Ski
* Horsetooth MP
* Foothills trail/Dixon Lake
* City Park

Stormy Peaks Duathlon via North Fork Trail

9-Aug-2009
72 miles road bike from house (~4900 ft)
~20 miles trail run/hike to Stormy Peaks (~12200 ft)
11 hours total


I was finally starting to feel recovered from Leadville, anxious to run somewhere in the mountains again, and the weather was looking good. And, ideally, I wouldn't have to use the car.
Earlier in the week, there was a bit of discussion on the FC trailrunner list about Comanche Peak wilderness. While I'm more familiar with the north/Pingree Park/Poudre side of Comanche, someone mentioned the North Fork trail as being a good option. In this case, the North Fork being the "Big T", a river which I've ridden next to countless times and have awe and respect, but don't have much experience with the river away from Hwy 34.

Here, I'm going to jump ahead to get the negative part out of the way, so that the rest of the story is all positive. I arrived back at the trailhead about 4.5 hours after starting, longer in time and distance than I planned but a fun route overall. My bike was happily unmolested and the tires were full of air. After a quick shoe change, I bombed down the dirt road on the road bike, ~30mph with barely room to think. I honestly think I was more aggressive mainly because I had just been running, slowly, and it was nice to cruise without pedaling. I almost lost it on the last corner, as there was too much sand in the corner to brake comfortably, but I needed to stay on the road! Luckily the skinny tires held up and I was on my way. As it was now mid-afternoon, some clouds were threatening from the west, so I tried to 'hurry', as much as I could. The rain held off in the canyon, but not the idiots: a gaggle of tourists were pulled over for bighorn sheep pics, including one minivan parked into the shoulder/traffic lane (with the family still inside, taking pictures, too lazy to park legally and walk); shortly after that, some guys went by thinking it was funny to blast an airhorn at riders as they went by. I made it to Loveland without rain, but then lightning started coming, with a mile to the East. Again I hurried, and on one of the country roads, with no other cars and myself hurrying to avoid lightning on the edge of the road, a car honked at me and tapped the brakes, unsure of how to share the road competently with some guy trying to stay out of the way and get home safely to his wife. So after a fabulous day, I was in a bit of a foul mood. I think many of the anti-cyclist motorists really cannot fathom riding a bike on the road, and believe that only people on a bike stand out as inconveniencing their ride for entertainment, not admitting that they themselves are nearly all of the time driving for fairly useless errands. They lack the experience and imagination to realize that I very well could have driven a car to the trailhead instead, at the cost of clogging the road up even more as well as other negative economic externalities (increased road/maintenance cost, pollution, statistical accident threat to them). Why not honk at all the joyriders and tourists clogging up the road instead? Or people driving a few miles every day to work? Because somehow skinny guys on skinny tires and 20 pounds of bike stick out more and are easier to harrass. I'm not trying to prove any point or anything, I pose no risk and just want to be left alone to ride safely, I just like to ride my bike and stay the heck out of the way.
***
Back to the beginning....
The ride there was fairly uneventful, I strapped most of my extra weight (trail shoes and clothes) under my seat, and this kept most of the weight off my back. I arrived at Dunraven Glade Rd in a couple hours, and finally got a chance to ride something new. I knew it was a couple miles or so up the road, and I vaguely recalled that it was an unimproved road. Well, it's a 2.3 mile grind up a hardpacked, washboarded dirt road, and I couldn't even muster double-digit speeds. Given the choice again, though, I wouldn't hesitate to bring the road bike, as this was only a small part of the ride. Still, it slowed me down from my estimated run starting time, as well as fatigued my legs more than I anticipated. But I arrived at the trailhead, which has a restroom and a lot that was full of cars and no bike rack as usual, but I hitched to a wooden fence by the trailhead sign.

Generally, the beginning of the trail is nice and shaded, friendly and accessible to families to take a stroll in the woods, as well as horseback riding. I'm not a horse guy, but if I were, this is a pretty good spot with the shade and lack of mt. bikes, and every horse group I encountered was polite and respectfully yielded the powerful but slower horses. Otherwise, this trail is a nice but longer backdoor entry into RMNP. It's about 4.3 miles to the RMNP boundary, and beautiful uncrowded campsites line the trail. Most of the traffic at this point, if any, are friendly backpackers. Of course, along the way is the Big T as a reliable water source. Continuing on, one can hear the rumble of Lost Falls, and shortly thereafter, just over 8 miles in, reach the fork for Lost Lake or Stormy Peaks. Note that the otherwise reliable and enjoyable "Afoot and Afield" pegs the Lost Lake trail as a 14.3 mile roundtrip, but this cannot be correct. As another aside, it is my observation that "Lost Lake" and "Blue Lake" are the two most common lake names in Colorado.
Anyway, it appears that the (left) fork to Lost Lake is more popular as a backpacking destination, but I wanted to hit tundra, so took the right fork to Stormy Peaks. The pass is designated as 1.6 miles from the fork. Quickly, the trail steepens and switchbacks up above treeline. While a bit rockier, the trail is in great condition, and was being worked on by three young men that had obviously hauled equipment quite far onto the trail. They were tarp camping and had some beer in the river: what more do you need?


Anyway, the open views into RMNP were stunning, and South Stormy Peaks campsite was the best one of all. I slowed to a fast hike and hiked up to the pass. Here I saw a party of 3, but they were heading to the south for more views. Stormy Peaks are the higher points to the right, so I just headed straight up some boulders to the top. I was rewarded with even better views of both RMNP and Pingree Park, some wind, and a new summit register. Just a few people seem to trickle in every weekend, plus a large party from Wausau, WI (just typing that summons forth the smell of the paper factory when driving throuh that town, but I say that fondly as it was a gateway to going "Up North" as a kid). After some time up top, I headed back down, and found the trail to be quite runnable in this direction (meaning, I was too tired to run up it, but it's quite pleasant to run down).

I stopped at Lost Falls to refill on water, and I met a friendly backpacking couple, Justin and Allison (sp?) from Nebraska. Justin had been coming here for quite some time and said it has gotten busier/more popular, though even I couldn't complain about the crowds. I only had my UV steripen, he offered to let me use his filter, but I wanted to continue the 'experiment' with the steripen only (and my bandanna 'pre-filter') so I knew if it worked on the 3 liters I tried. (Now that it's been over a week, I'm still happy with the results). They were staying until Monday and looks like they had a great weekend of weather. My water gathering and break took a little longer than expected, but soon I was back on the trail for an uninterrupted stretch of a few more hours of running. It was still quite pleasant in the shade and I wasn't in any hurry. I passed a solo hiker and spaced out a bit, as right after passing him I biffed on a small rock, slid forward and dropped my bottles. He asked if I was OK, I was mostly embarrassed at having a witness!

Anyway, all told it was a great ride and run. I look forward to returning and exploring Lost Lake someday.