7/10
Absolutely perfect riding today. We were treated to nice weather, a challenging and long climb and a beautiful downhill run all the way to the day’s end. It was almost too good to be true.
We spent the morning shopping–Walmart 2 miles from the motel, City Market for groceries and a bagel/yogurt for breakfast. Then some chaos ensued back at the motel as I attempted to get my bike into working order after the chain replacement. The middle ring was keeping the chain a bit too long, as often is the case on worn rings, so I went next door to Steamboat Bike Kare (where I had purchased the chains and tire yesterday) to find a new middle ring. They had just what I needed–an LX 32 tooth, so I happily went back to the room to change it.
I don’t have a crank puller and foolishly thought I could swap the ring without taking off the crank. It almost, and I mean almost, worked, but in the end I rolled my bike out to the shop once again. I know shops don’t like customers using their tools, and normally I wouldn’t ask, but I had bought a fair amount ($150 or so) of goods from them in the past 2 days, and they were happy to let me borrow a work stand, long 8mm wrench and a crank puller. I was out of there in 5 minutes with the new ring dangling from the crank.
We seem to always push right up to the checkout time limit, and today was no exception. We pulled things together in time and headed out down the main street out of town. Yelle cycled with us to go check out the campground, or to call his friends to stay with in Steamboat (I’m not sure which). An attempt was made to ride the river trail out of town, but the Rainbow Days and Pro Rodeo and Artisan Fair foiled that plan. People were everywhere, so we were forced onto the main road. We said goodbye to Yello, then rode away towards state road 129.
The start of the ride was on the pavement with very little shoulder and a fair amount of traffic. Happiliy the drivers were quite considerate, slowing to drive behind us until it was safe to pass and generally giving us some room. There were other cyclists out and several of the cars had bikes on them, so I suppose that helped. Still, we were happy to see the signs for the town of Clark which meant our term of slavery to motor vehicle traffic was at an end.
We got a quick sandwich and tasty ice cream at the Clark store, and listened in amusement (and later annoyance) as the kids of the owners, well, acted like kids. Then it was off down a dirt county road to head into the hills.
For the next 6 hours we saw only a handful of vehicles. This was a stark contrast to many of the other big climbs and passes of Colorado. Once the road turned rough about 6 miles from (and 2000 feet below) the top of the climb, we saw no one until the end of the day in the town of Slater.
Behind us the clouds billowed, threatening rain. But it was clear to the west, so we hopped on to try and dodge it (our route was also heading west). This worked. We got clouds for the climb (our late start made it hot out), but no rain. Perfect.
Now, the climb was a surprise to us: very rocky, but not so steep that granny was always required. It was just techinical enough that you had to choose your line wisely, but not relentlessly so. As we climbed and climbed the scenery just got better. These will be the last big mountain meadows and views for a while. The descent from the Sierra Madres will land us into the plains of Wyoming. I thought we were only going to 9500, but my altimeter nearly read 10,000 before we reached a beautiful campsite amongst tall trees at the very top.
The first 1.5 miles of the descent were bacon fat. Very fun mountain biking–especially the really steep bits. The trees were once again very dense on the north side of the pass. After the 1.5 miles of technical mayhem the road instantly turned smooth and fast. We were carving turns through aspens at 20 mph, seemingly forever.
We then rolled through HUGE mountain meadows with yellow flowers. The downhill just never seemed to end. Even the small uphills were of no consequence, I guess because we were feeling so well. Neither my hamstring nor hip were hurting, and I just wasn’t tired. I just felt great all around.
I was happy for our late start because we enjoyed the evening sun as we coasted down the river valley to the town of Slater. The miles passed like seconds, which is rare for a day on the GDMBR.
We saw our first people in 5 hours at the bridge over the little snake river in Slater. I aksed them how the fishing was. “Pretty rotten, but it’ll get better.” “At least it’s a nice evening” “Sure is.”
0.6 miles down the pavement we found the River’s Bend camground and were met by the owner, Debby, and her pup, Maria. We checked out the minitature pony’s, camp cats and other animals, then pitched out tent in her lot. It was nice and warm here at 6700 feet, but the river meant quite a few mosquitos. Her campground even has a shower, which made things even better.
Now to bed. Tomorrow: Wyoming (we are literally a stone’s throw from the border).
70 miles, 5600 feet of climbing
7/11
We were up early in an attempt to beat the mo-skee-toes. It worked. The wind blew fairly strong, which was surprising for the morning. We talked some more with Debby, the campground host, and visited with her various animals, including a few cats. There wasn’t any drinking water available (the people staying in the cabin had finished it yesterday), but she hooked us up with 2 bottles of arrowhead water, which was enough to get us up the climb and to the ranger station.
We climbed into the wind on the pavement, slowly but surely, going from 6500 feet to 8400. It was a nice morning and the road was deserted, but the wind was definitely getting old.
We checked out the deserted Sandstone Work Center, but it was abandoned and only provided a picnic table and a restroom (no water). We ate an early lunch (10:30) of PB&J sandwiches, then rolled on towards “Aspen Alley” and finally some dirt. Immediately after turning down the road we saw two riders, one with a Bob flag flying behind him.
These were the first North to South GDMBR riders we had seen (besides the racers). They were a large group (7 in total) that were originally the Adventure Cycling group that never got off the ground. They were doing 30 or so miles a day, having started June 5th from Roosville. We chatted a bit, but it was short since we were going separate ways.
One rider did his best to be inflammatory (obviously his nature), challenging my UofA jersey with his “Purdue” jersey and flag. There are very few things I am interested less in than school rivalry, so I could really care less. Then he yelled, “Why is it that every couple we see the guy is pulling a big load while the girl has nothing.”
One look at his rig was telling: an overloaded Bob trailer, plus front and rear panniers. Even I was carrying nothing compared to him. I’ll bet that both of our loads combined were less than his. In reality the gear between Paula and I is fairly well distributed. While I am certainly carrying more weight, I am carrying the non-essential items like the laptop, 4 different chargers, GPS+cable, extra batteries, satellite phone, camera+card reader, et cetera. None of these items really does her any good, in terms of progress on the trip. They’re really just for me.
Even still, it makes sense from an expedition planning angle for me to carry more since I’m bigger, stronger and more experienced than her. For us to have equal loads would make the trip much more difficult for both of us. Do you get the impression I wasn’t impressed with this guy? I told them about the upcoming terrain (the tough climb to nearly 10,000), but it was obvious that he already knew everything about the route, though he’s never been further than where he stood. Meanwhile we listened in interest as they told us about the great divide basin and water sources.
At any rate, we cruised through the famed “Aspen Alley”, a short section of road lined by two thick walls of aspen trees. We enjoyed our last miles of trees, shade and cool air. We stopped at a nice creek (little sandstone creek) to pump our camelbaks full, then climbed a short hill before meeting the stragglers of the ‘adventure cycling’ group. They were the ones who liked to start and finish late, often riding in thunderstorms and strong headwinds that afternoons often yield. But at least they didn’t go out of their way to insult us. Nice guys, really. Perhaps a little naive though. They told us they had been fighting headwinds all day, so we would have a “tail wind all the way to Rawlins.” Actually it was more of a cross wind, occasionally it was what I call an “almost tail wind.” The wind was coming from the Southwest and we were going generally north. But for quite a while it was a headwind, so we kept laughing and repeating, “Tail wind all the way to Rawlins, guys.”
Even before we got blasted in the face by our first headwind I knew they were full of it. It’s not surprising, though, because cyclists will only notice the headwinds, and because of the slow down it seems like so much greater a percentage of your ride is spend into the wind. But are you really getting ALL headwinds? Please.
Another of their group told us we’d probably have a tailwind in the great basin since they had a headwind. Yeah, right.
Further down and still in the trees we saw yet another rider pulling a Bob! This guy had just started on a 9 day stint on the GDMBR in Rawlins. He definitely looked fresh and a bit green. We told him about the group ahead of him, and after talking I realized he’d rather not see anyone out here. Perhaps he’s not as green as he first seemed. But his bike, clothes and gear were just so clean that the first impression was hard to get around.
Soon we rolled out of the trees and stared at a never ending road before us. The rollers were huge, extending well beyond the horizon. Paula loves the rollers. I like them too, but after 20 miles they do get a bit old.
The road was covered in thick gravel at times, which combined with the cross wind made for the first section of the GDMBR where I actually felt in danger. The drops on the rollers brought us into deep wash crossings where the crosswind was much more fierce than on the tops. Combine downhill, speed, a very loose road and a strong crosswind and you’re looking for trouble. Of course another problem was that the temptation to gain as much momentum as possible was very hard to resist. Logic, in the end, prevailed, and we both applied the brakes when we could have let it rip. I really, really, did not want to crash with a full Bob load behind me.
We had heard that the man of the dutch couple in front of us had crashed here and had to be taken to the hospital. I’m not too surprised after seeing the road.
The rollers continued for a long time. We were running out of water, it was hot and dusty. Rawlins could not come too soon.
We crested yet another hill and caught a glimpse of buildings. At this time both of us tanked our remaining water supply (unknowlingly, we were quite a distance apart). In fact, Paula was pulling us through this tough section, riding well in front of me with the hammer firmly down. I was really impressed.
There was finally a downhill into Rawlins where we hit the cigarette store for $5 in powerade, juice and water. Can you say refreshing?
Paula’s mother, sister and nephew met us at the Day’s Inn, which we rode 4 extra miles in the wrong direction trying to find. But eventually we found it, checked in, then pigged out at KFC/Taco Bell. We had another dinner with her family then a good night’s rest.
The next project will be the Divide Basin. Strategies are currently being formulated.
75 miles (some extra in town), 6100 feet of climbing and “tail winds the whole way!”
Leave a Reply