Woodland Ventures: Colorado Trail Race

At 330am I look out of my bivy and realize that it is a crystal clear morning with a sky full of stars and a moon like a spotlight. Since the beginning of the year I had been excited about the chance to ride under a full moon in the high country and knowing this is my chance I jump at it. I climb out of the bivy - sore and achy - in the darkness and pack up my gear. I shove a mini muffin down my throat and get my lights going. I know I am the first to rise among the other racers nearby - I know of at least 3 racers who camped nearby.

Regaining the trail I measure my pace and get my heart rate up and shed my jacket. I can hear my breathing and my heart pumping and that is it. My lights shed a small cone on the trail in front and that is all I am focused on. After a couple switchbacks I know I am nearing tree line yet again. As I make the final switchback which brings me straight up over tree line and toward the final crest of Searle Pass I am heading directly into the full moon which is close to setting behind the Continental Divide. I turn off my lights and enjoy the highlight of my race.

Stars shine brightly and the moon illuminates everything. I sit at 12,100 feet in the moonlight and am in awe of my surroundings. Here I am above treeline while the rest of the world sleeps - even most of the racers are still sleeping. I see the shadow of the crest a few hundred feet above, feel the chill in the pre-dawn air, see soft details in the ridge lines and valleys down below and I hear marmots scampering around in the rock scree above. Amazing!

The ride from Searle Pass to Kokomo Pass is all tundra riding and you feel like you are cruising along the roof of the world. It is awesome, ride-able terrain and the mountains feel like they are just slipping away below you. The sun is just starting to peek over the distant ranges and my lights are off now. It is still cold but I am now switch-backing again up to Kokomo. Finally I hit it at sunrise and take a break. The descent into Camp Hale is fast and furious and cold. The sun is on the other side and will not warm up this side quickly. I take numerous breaks to warm my hands and wet feet - stomping them on the ground or swinging them in arcs. Finally I hit bottom at the old 10th Mountain Division training grounds from WWII in Camp Hale. I take a break in the sun near some backpackers who are packing up and getting ready to tackle the brutal climb that I just descended at mach speeds! One guy asks me, 'what the hell is going on - we had bikers riding through the trail last night at 10pm!' As he put it, 'that is one hell of a way to recreate!' Indeed buddy.

I see Nicole pass by starting the Tennessee Pass climb - either up or down on this trail - so I pack up and saddle up. Race on! At a road crossing I make a wrong turn and start climbing up the road. Dave from Yakima, WA - who I had met last night - passes by the opposite way without a word. Odd. Then Nicole is on the side of the road looking at maps and asks 'is this the right way'. I say, 'I think so.' She follows and we climb together...the wrong way. Sorry Nicole! So we turn around and fly back down the road to the trail which had just crossed the road, but with a very faint trail marker. We talk about why Dave didn't say a word, he obviously knew we were going the wrong way. Must have thought that would violate the self-supported ethos - but come on man, we aren't setting records out here!

Nicole and I climb together. She is from LA, but lives in Crested Butte during summers studying marmots in graduate school. She is on a Specialized 29er and looks strong. On downhills she leaves me in the dust. We eventually pass Dave, and he says something like 'well, that was awkward huh.' Nicole and I don't think so - could have just said. 'Hey, going the wrong way'. But ah well, everyone runs their own race out here.

Eventually Nicole leaves me behind. I get to Tennessee Pass and see her about to head off down the highway, the wrong way. So since I had steered her wrong before I yell to her and point the way to the trail. She is thankful and we hit a piece of trail magic together, sharing a bag of Cheetos and drinking Pepsi in a can. Nice! We get to the road detour into Leadville and with those big wheels she is gone again.

I spin into Leadville on a nice highway detour - the smooth pavement and the high cadence is such a nice change from the trail. And the views of the Collegiate Peaks is awesome. I go straight to the Burro Cafe and order a huge 'Miners Platter' breakfast. Corned beef, cajun potatoes, eggs, biscuits. People stare at me and wonder. But in Leadville, a bikepacker is not such a novel site. Maybe in the touristy Burro Cafe it is! As I dry out some gear in a little park in town, a tourist waiting for his wife says to me, 'looks like you are living out of your bike.' Ha! I had never thought of it that way.

I had seen Nicole hit the Safeway and I don't see any other racers in town so I feel like I've gotten a jump on a few racers I was with yesterday. With bags packed again, stomach full, more food for the next leg and my iPod going again I fly out of town jumping off curbs and hitting some banked pavement. I feel like a little kid. This is so awesome!!!!

On Halfmoon road I see nasty clouds building over Colorado's high point, Mt. Elbert - right where I am headed. Two riders come up behind me on the dirt road and startle me a little as I am into my music. The guy doesn't acknowledge me in the least, just keeps talking to the woman with him about the Leadville 100 course and where it goes and the next turn off. She at least says hi and asks if I am doing the Colorado Trail. But the guy just keeps talking to her, hardly even looks at me. I guess that is the Leadville 100 crowd for you! Maybe I won't jump on the bandwagon. Plus he was pointing out a powerline road...no thanks!

At the Mt. Elbert trail head I just keep plugging along back on the trail now and eventually begin the short hike to the Mt. Elbert trail junction. At the junction begins one of the best sections of the trail, fast flowy downhill with easy little ups and then more down, down, down. From here all the way to the Clear Creek road is one of the best stretches on the trail from the start. I love it! Twin Lakes comes into view and the singletrack around the lake is great. Somewhat reminiscent of Fruita riding with all the sagebrush and 4" wide singletrack.

I take a break at the Twin Lakes dam as more rain comes down, but it is light and moves through fast. A guy comes over and asks about the race, 'so what, you just camp out?' Well, some of us do! The guy that finishes in 4 days sure doesn't! Brie comes over also and hangs out, she was going to offer her car as shelter from the rain and I thank her but tell her about the self-supported bit. She is supporting a friend who is pre-riding the Leadville 100 course by stationing her car as close to the aid stations as possible to simulate the race setting and I say, 'what, she can't carry her own stuff' as I point to my bike! I start liking this race style more and more. Simple and self-sufficient: under your own power, no outside support, from point A to point B. No stages, no time bonuses, no cutoffs or SAGs, no sponsors, no aid, no media. Just you, your bike and this ridiculously difficult course and this unbelievably beautiful setting. It is clean and made for you to achieve your own personal glory. I had listened to a song earlier on my iPod, 'Bound for Glory' and that's how I feel. Corny, but true!

Brie wishes me luck as I saddle up once again and ride a short stretch of the Leadville 100 course - maybe all I'll ever ride of it. I get back on the CT and wrap around Twin Lakes. Eventually I am climbing again, but it's a short one and I'm flying downhill again. I hit the Clear Creek Road and see a massive rain storm directly in my path. Donning rain gear, tightening up the hatches and getting back on the bike lightning strikes close and thunder crashes hard overhead...I am ducking again, can't help it! The rain really starts coming down and by the time I get to HWY-24 (another detour) it is torrential. I have all my lights on, rear blinky included, and am just riding along...what else to do. The rain eventually subsides as I pick up the dirt road into BV that parallels HWY-24. I take shelter in an outhouse alcove as more rain comes, and I promptly fall asleep - been on the bike now for 14 hrs. As soon as I wake up and look toward the road I see none other than Nicole cruising by. Damn - caught me napping! So I saddle up and tail her into BV where I run into her at the City Market. Somehow she missed that storm. She is dry and I look like a drowned rat covered in mud. It's all timing with these storms!

At the city market I load up on 3 days worth of food the best I can. I am new to this and really don't know what to buy, so I do my best: beef jerky, peanut butter, salami, shelf stable cheese, twizzlers, bars, vacuum bags of tuna, nuts, chocolate. I have no stove, so I have to buy smart. Who will ever know if that food would have worked since I never ended up needing it.

I repack in front of the City Market and then go to Kay's burger joint and get a double burger with bacon, fries and a coke. After talking with Wendy and family again I am back on the road by 8pm. The first 5 miles of Cottonwood Pass go by fairly easily, but for the last 5 it is dark and I have my lights on again climbing ever so slowly up the pass to the trail head. Storm clouds are building again and I start stressing about getting caught in a storm so close to camp. My legs, after 85 miles are screaming at me and I have a chill and am weary to the core. Finally, I hit the trail head at 930 and dive into the trees to set up camp. Mercifully it does not rain until I get into the bivy and have everything sorted for the night.

For me, this day was the biggest ever on a mountain bike. 17 hrs and 90 miles, clear from outside Copper to 10 miles outside Buena Vista. What a day!!! And I gained time on some other racers. Four or five others moved out of Buena Vista before I did, but I'm sure they have not gotten much farther on the trail than me tonight so I should be able to stay with them tomorrow. I hunker down for another rainy night as the wind picks up and I go through the motions of holding the bivy overlap shut.