Gooney rides in the Butte

I did take a couple days off after the 14er blitz, I promise. But it was only a couple. I started to realize that summer was running short, and I had friends to ride with and in high places. Emails sent. Rides set up. Let’s go.

It wasn’t hard to convince both Chris and Eszter to ride. Those two live to live, and they aren’t in Crested Butte for the sweet job market. Not for jobs at all, but living outside and doing what they love. What they love and what I love overlaps quite nicely (in the summer). So I drove up and met Chris after work for a push into the mountains. We were seriously short on daylight, and we hemmed and hawed a bit about the plan. But we decided to go for it anyway, and I am really glad we did.

chris on a rubble switchback

Chris set a cooking pace up the 3000′ climb — on his freeride bike. I would have pedaled slower, but we were racing the sun.

gunsight

That glorious orb in the sky was falling behind the mountains, leaving the town of Crested Butte and all the valleys in dark shadow.

But on our sky-high ridge, the evening’s last rays were warm, both to the skin and the eyes. And we were climbing even higher, on steep singletrack, stretching the sunset rays even further.

photo by chris miller

We couldn’t have timed it better if we had tried.

photo by chris miller

Just one of those magical moments of timing and coincidence that can never be repeated.

Perfect and unique.

Chris armored up, and I knew I should jump ahead to scout and/or walk. My big bike (Behemoth) was in parts on the floor, but it didn’t matter, I didn’t have the stones to ride the initial drops, anyway.

Chris did! Oh yeah!

On down the rocky ridge, riding some, walking some, still loving the moment. We flipped on the lights as we hit tree-line, for alternately scary-steep and scary-flowy trail riding all the way back into CB. It’s been too long since I’ve done any planned night riding of any consequence (my evening rides end up pushing into dark all the time, but I rarely have proper lights). It was too too fun to follow Chris and his lively style down the mountain, hopping trees and grinding turns in the dark. The only fly in the ointment was my 6″ front rotor, which I had for some reason decided to experiment with on this of all rides. I felt like my fork was a noodle, or that my front end was running away from me. Power was fine, but control on steep braking maneuvers was frightening at best!

I finally got to eat at Brick Oven Pizza in CB! For some reason I keep missing it, even though it’s the finish line for the CB classic. Got to chat with some locals while we put the slices down, too.

Check out Chris’s helmet cam video from the ride to get a sense of the ridgeline we went down.

photo by eszter horanyi

The beloved Corsica made it to Chris and Eszter’s place just fine late that night, but was flat to the rim the next morning! Eszter went to Gunnison to recruit for the college’s MTB team that morning, and was kind enough to pick me up a can of fix-a-flat. She was also kind enough to take a photo of me trying to figure out how to use it. I remember hitting a sharp looking rock driving out to the trailhead the night before and it was enough to slice the tire.

I aired it up and decided that if it wasn’t on the rim by the time we finished our ride, it should make it to Salida. Long live the Corsica!

I love riding in Crested Butte, because I always seem to have a guide. I’m so used to doing the map research and (sometimes) spoiling my surprise, that’s it’s fun to just shut of my map-brain and follow someone else. My first trips through CB were bikepacking with Mike Curiak, who invented our route as we went. Then other rides have been races, grassroots or otherwise, where I was following someone else’s idea of a good ride.

Eszter had an idea for a good ride! We rode from their house, up Cement Creek.

Waterfall (and cutoff) was a treat — raw and primitive.

It wouldn’t be CB riding without plentiful water crossings.

Or high altitude 1-track, the kind that forces some hiking every now and then. I really enjoyed forcing the cinder-block armored climbs on Hunter Hill — it just felt so good to crank until I couldn’t breathe, then repeat.

photo by eszter horanyi

It was cool to see Eszter riding so strong, still not even two weeks out from slaying CTR. She was cranking out some steep hills, and talking about how she and Chris couldn’t ride anything on this trail last week. We talked quite a bit about CTR, and it was interesting to observe her laid back, yet focused riding style. It’s easy to see why she does so well on things like CTR, and it makes her a great person to share a long ride with. We made really good time without really noticing it, chatting away and rolling blissfully through a pretty epic half day loop.

Vibrant flowers and a split sidewall (CTR tire!) awaited us on the other side of the big pass. Not a bad place to hang out and wait for a tire to seal (or not).

If this photo seems surreal, as it does to me, it’s an accurate reflection of things as they were, descending rowdy and ripping trail through flowers and green fields, finally ending up on the Canal trail and Brush Creek, rolling back into CB. We met Chris, and Steiny, and Derrick, at Teocalli Tamale to fill the voids in our stomachs with food fit for kings. Brick Oven and a Teo Burrito after two killer rides. Pinch me, I must be dreaming.

I got to roll the CB South commute, which they both ride regularly, and it’s quite a nice one. The Corsica held plenty of air to get me over Monarch Pass, which I did replaying so many great moments in CB. I had one day of ‘rest’ before more friends and fringe altitude on the weekend!

Thanks for the great rides, and for delaying CTR recovery even longer for me, you guys!