Woodland Ventures: Colorado Trail Race

Day four dawns colder and blustery with scattered cloud cover. It feels like rain. I get up reluctantly this morning and feel the effects of the last three days settling into my core. I pull on wet shoes and damp socks, pack up my gear and get rolling.

I don't feel at all into this anymore. Yesterday was an incredible day and now this morning I have no energy and no excitement for more rough trail and slick tree roots and vegetation heavy with dew along the trail that just gets me more wet. I retrace my steps back to the trail which I had crossed unknowingly the night before in the dark, good thing I slept in the trail head parking lot.

I drop down to Cottonwood creek and pass by a rider who is packing up his gear but I don't even say hi. He is sort of behind a tree off the trail a bit and engrossed in his packing and shoving, but still I could have shouted out. Signs of my mood. He (Dominic from Poncha Springs) eventually passes me on the trail and we ride for a little bit. He stayed at the Cottonwood Hot Springs Inn last night, which is right on the Cottonwood Pass road detour that everyone passes. I even pulled into the driveway pull-off and reminisced about staying there with Wendy and Sienna years ago. But I never even considered staying there! Man I am jealous of him as he tells me about his dorm-style room and a good soak in the hot springs that gives the place its name. I feel that I should have stayed there and gotten a good rest and recovered from yesterday. But I didn't and I had another fitful night in the bivy. He passes by. He is not wearing a shirt - it's 630am, chilly and I have an extra layer on. Turns out he finishes the race - not surprising!

I stumble along on the rough trail and am generally in a foul mood angry at every stumble, every rock that I slip on and especially when I bang my now sore shin into the pedal once again. And my rear derailleur is acting up - ghost shifting and falling off the big cog into the hub and really just pissing me off. I realize that I gave yesterday everything I had and I just assumed I would wake up and get rolling, but I can't shake this funk and begin to think about pulling out and how to bail off the route and how Wendy is going to pick me up and where and when. It is all I am thinking about. I can't imagine the effort needed to keep rolling for another 250 miles.

Eventually I decide to get to the Mt Princeton Hot Springs resort and reassess. It is only 14 miles away, just get there and then reconsider everything. Don't think about pulling out now. Also, I have to fix this derailleur. So I pull off, get rid of my jacket, get my tools out, flip the bike over and give my bike it's first tune up in 215 miles - not bad! I tighten the barrel adjuster and tighten the low limit screw bringing the chain back in line. I apply some lube and then repack once again. Getting back on the bike which is now shifting perfectly and running quietly I get a little lift and get some of the spirit back.

It is mostly climbing to the road portion down into Mt Princeton which is the actual CT. They should find a reroute for backpackers. But for us bikers it's awesome, ripping fast jeep road down to ripping fast paved roads with the chalk cliffs looming high overhead. It's an awesome descent down into Mt. Princeton and I am hooting and hollering!!

I see Nick, Adam and Crissa? at Mt. Princeton (haven't seen them since Day 1) and also a couple other guys in the little store. They are gone when I come back out. Adam, Nick and Crissa appeared to have all camped together last night only a couple miles ahead of me on the trail. They have gotten some hot food and are drying out gear. Crissa does not look well and is lying on the ground trying to recover from last nights bouts of vomitting - no fun! She asks, 'you haven't been nauseous on this trip?', and I say, 'no, not at all'. I will regret those words later.

I get a big plate of pancakes and hot coffee and look at my maps for the next stretch and realize it is only 20 miles, not 30, to US-50. Not bad right? Well, not when looking at them on a map. But even then I realize that I am way behind my plan for this day. It is already approaching 11am, I have only covered 14 miles and I need to cover 70 with one of the nastiest hike-a-bikes on the whole route in there. Not gonna happen - doesn't take me long to realize that. So what then? I decide to just get to US-50 and reassess. Seems the best plan is to think of the next landmark, not Durango!

After drying out gear and not taking any of the food Crissa is throwing my way, 'I am trying to lighten my load', I saddle up and head out. I've got my cue sheets clipped to my stem since I am now officially on trail that is new to me. That is exciting. I can still feel the lag in my legs though and know they are not nearly up to the challenge ahead.

It's hot when I reach the Chalk Creek trail head set back on a beautiful little dirt road deep in the valley. I just want to kick back on these decks I see with grand views up valley. Back on the trail, it's once again a steady climb, then a road crossing and then the beginning of the nasty Raspberry Gulch climb. Pushing up switchbacks I have had it. So sick of pushing my bike. I pass a hiker with two dogs and she says that it's a short way to the top and then 'like 10 miles of awesome downhill'. 10 miles! I know for a fact that can not even be close to the truth. But I thank her for the encouragement all the same. I gain the small knoll and do get a nice little downhill, but then it's climbing again. Up, down, up, down...this section - Segment 14 - does have some nice stretches but it is living up to its infamy. I had read and heard from other trip reports about how not to underestimate this section. But I had done just that. Never really gave it much thought in all my planning and projecting.

I pass a north bounder, Dan. He had set out from Durango on Monday and now here we are passing more or less at the half way point. He has a tight rig and a bright blue Salsa singlespeed. He seems in good spirits and we only chat for a minute or so before heading off in our own directions.

At this point my stomach starts to hurt, gas building up to painful proportions and then big, long farts. I have to bail into the woods and relieve myself eventually and then this goes on for the next three hours. Big buildups of gas, painful cramps, than off into the woods. I run out of toilet paper and things get ugly. I am crawling along the trail now, making little to no headway it seems. I know my plan is blown and Salida is now on my mind and what is the quickest way into town. I look at the cue sheets and see CR-240 in 2.5 miles. But before that I spend another three sessions in the woods and the last one is in a huge downpour with thunder crashing overhead. Nothing more dignified than diarrhea in the woods with no toilet paper in a huge rain storm!

So I finally get to 240 and there is really no decision to be made at this point. I see a bathroom at the trail head and thank the good Lord. After I finish up in the bathroom I get on the road and head down and don't look back. My race is done. The most dissappointing part is that I was just getting to the trail segments I have never done. Everything up to Mt. Princeton I had already ridden in previous trips. Bummer.

I fly down the road - when you bail on the CT you bail and down you go quickly! I get to the highway and spin into Salida. I stop at a Walmart and go buy a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I have parked my bike out front of the store in front of three homeless guys. I have to admit I look as ragged as they do in wet, muddy rain gear and a mud plastered bike and bags!

I get a motel and use the bathroom several more times, take a shower eventually and sit down on the bed. I fall into a serious trance, just sitting there staring at the wall totally drained. No idea how long that lasts, but eventually I get up an appetite and start eating and won't stop for almost two days.

I''ll write up some final thoughts in the next session.