USAPCC Photos - By My Brother

My brother has worked in the graphics/film industry his entire career, and has top-shelf hardware, software and the artistic eye to put it to good use. He's also an avid cyclist and a fan of pro racing, so when we rode Independence Pass last week to watch Stage 2 of the USA Pro Cycling Challenge, he brought the Canon 5D Mark II and took some pictures. Here are a few:

All images © John Montgomery.

Fans lining the ascent route, with La Plata Peak in back
Ivan Basso (center)
George Hincapie (right), the eventual
stage winner, watching and waiting
You can see the full gallery here.

The Hincapie photo was a great case of luck. After we got back down to town and found out Hincapie had won the stage, John looked through his pictures and at first was bummed because he didn't think he had one of George. Then he zoomed in on some and saw that look. Score! The sense of him being in the background but having that look of determination fit the backstory of the race perfectly.

Quick Clear Creek Ride

6 miles of bugs in the teeth at dusk. I didn't have a lot of time after work due to longer hours this week. This is from the edge of the Coors property along I-70:


I also need some lighter shades I can wear biking in a variety of conditions, because I don't want to have to keep taking them off and I need the eye/bug protection anyway.

Nick C. seems to be getting a beating from some people for having the gall to express his frustration about his race and for not finishing. This kind of gets my goat. I don't presume to burden other runners with my expectations, regardless of how they place (or don't). The happiness, guilt, frustration or glory they gain as a result their personal choices is theirs and theirs alone to bear, and I have nothing to do with it. If they win, I'll cheer them. If they DNF, I will sympathize. Simple.

Then again, I seem to be missing the personality traits that others have that makes them race, compete with others, and put up with the pain to do it. Maybe that's bad, maybe that's good, or maybe it's totally optional. No idea, but I'm happy just doing my outdoor gig as-is.

USA Pro Cycling-Challenged

What a great day we had on Wednesday.

After waking at 4:20 AM before my alarm went off (anticipation...?) my brother and I set out for Aspen at maybe 5:15, for the dual purpose of riding up Independence Pass and watching Stage 2 of the USA Pro Cycling Challenge.

My leg still felt sore from my fall(s) off the mountain bike on Saturday, but I could apply enough pressure to feel confident that I could do some riding, and I banked on whatever conditioning I had built up during my running, because frankly I don't really have much bike experience.

Paonia State Park
We took highways 92 and then 131 from Delta, CO to Aspen. The Hotchkiss area is very pretty, and then the highway passes by some spectacular terrain in the Elks near Marble. I was driving and in a mad rush to get to Independence Pass before it closed for the race, or else I'd have more pictures of that stretch.

When we finally got parked around 11 AM a little ways outside of Aspen, rain clouds were hanging over the valley and higher up the pass. It did not look good. However, rain was intermittent, and was interspersed with sunny breaks.


Although it doesn't look like it, there were tons of people riding up the pass for the race. It was also great to have the opportunity to ride a mountain pass with the road closed off to auto traffic (except for team/staff vehicles).

For a while we were changing in and out of our shells, and finally stopped wearing them and just got wet.

FYI, my brother is the one who is the huge cycling fan (from out of state, no less) who was lugging a heavy DSLR and zoom lens in his pack just to take some shots of the pros, whereas I was just along for the ride on a fun outing. So, he hauled uphill to make sure he was at the top when the racers hit the summit of Independence Pass.

He was worried about altitude, but he rides on roads a lot and did great; he reached the top with only a few stops.


My heavier mountain bike, knobby tires and less training made for a tough ride (maybe that's why I only saw about 4 mountain bikes among the hundreds of bikes on the ascent - heh). I did fine considering, but averaged about 1 mph slower during the uphill. My climbing muscles finally ran out of steam about 16 miles into it and I started walking a bit.


This was around 5 miles from the top:


Nearing the hairpin turn about 2 miles from the top, troopers started driving by and telling me to find a place to watch and please stay off the road surface (prematurely, I might add). But I figured I could make steady progress on foot, so I locked my bike to a guardrail and started walking as fast as I could up the road to the pass.


When it leveled off, more cars and motorcycles were passing with lights flashing, it seemed like a couple dozen. I jogged around cars and finally when I got to within about 50 yards of the inflatable arch at the top, the riders started coming past. I made it!

Cadel Evans leading a small group of riders
I moved towards the arch, where the spectators were thicker and louder, banging on the barriers as riders approached, cheering, and ringing cowbells.

George Hincapie, the eventual winner of the stage, wondered if anyone would bother coming up to the top of a pass in the middle of the mountains to watch. Welcome to Colorado, buddy! An estimated 3,000 fans showed up along the pass. And a lot of them were on bikes.

Within what seemed like 20 minutes, all the riders had flown by and downhill out of sight. It was cold, rainy, windy and people were shivering, so mobs of bikers and people started packing up and leaving, and I walked back down to my bike a mile below.


It was a bit of a harrowing trip down on the slick pavement with passing cars and scores of bikes, and it was my first real road ride since college (i.e. a long time ago). I think I used my brakes about 90% of the time along the narrow, winding road with little in the way of shoulders. My arms and hands were tired and cold by the end, and a couple of toes were numb (shoe too tight + cold).

Ride distance was 36.33 miles, time 5:15 (moving 4:10), and elevation gain/loss 4,827 feet.

Average moving speed 8.7 mph, max 31.5 mph. My pace was about 6 mph while riding up.

My brother beat me down, and since I wasn't at the car he rode into town to warm up and found it was sunny in Aspen. I met him at the hotel and we both took long showers to ease the muscles and restore warmth.

View from the Aspen Hotel in the morning
The Aspen Hotel was a cool place right on Main Street. It was pricey by most standards (last-minute price of $200) but it was right downtown and was very nice.

We walked over to Aspen Brewing, had a couple of brews (Independence Pass Ale -- ha!), ate at Hickory House, then went back to Aspen Brewing later. Great night.

In the morning we drove back to Durango via Salida and stopped at Amica's. Excellent IPA and pizza: #11 Montenotte.


A fantastic day and a half.

The leg held up great and I only felt some fatigue at the end of the ascent. On the descent, my arms were incredibly tired, probably since I was pretty tense riding for 16 miles on wet pavement where I could have been run over by cars if I'd fallen. Plus I'm just not used to the activity of riding yet. I'm pretty happy that I was able to ride as much as I did.

FYI, my brother is a great photographer and I'll post some of his shots of the race later.

Hummingbirds 2: Flash Mob

When a new batch of sugar solution hits the feeder, the word gets out fast, and the hummingbirds arrive like a swarm of bees. This picture doesn't show the half-dozen birds waiting to dive in and take their turn.

The sugar water's here!

Hummingbirds

Hummingbirds from the parents' deck below. They mob the feeder, jostling for position like riders in a stage finish of the USA Pro Cycling Challenge.


I joked that they're going to have to start a sugar budget, because these birds consume as much as a quart a day of sugar solution.

Gudy's No-Rest

Monday I took was a limping walk through neighborhood streets with my father, and Tuesday it was a limping hike on the Colorado Trail west of Durango while he fished Junction Creek. We agreed to meet back at the car in 2 hours.


My right quad and knee were still sore from the bike wipeout, but I managed a pretty fast hike anyway. I walked as fast and as softly as I could, putting little weight on my right leg.



Below is Gudy's Rest, a stop that is a few miles into the Colorado Trail from the western end in Durango. This is pretty much my default in-town run while I'm visiting:


A view of Perins Peak (middle) from the same spot:



The valley was moist from recent rain, and large black slugs were trying to cross the trail. I moved one off to the side so it wouldn't get stepped on (and probably set its journey back by an hour), but there were so many it was a losing battle.

This trail is hilly!
I even did a couple hundred yards of running at the end, run-limping rather lamely. I got to Gudy's Rest, the halfway point, in about 67 minutes, and got back to the car when my father climbed out of the weeds from Junction Creek. Perfect.

Hike distance was 6 miles, time 2:11, and elevation gain 1,442 feet.

I still couldn't put a lot of weight on my leg or do a full squat without pain, but things were rapidly improving. The following day I had been planning to attend Stage 2 of the USA Pro Cycling Challenge with my brother (who is a road biker with a lot of miles under his belt), and ride up to the top of Independence Pass. So ride #18 on my MTB would be a 36-mile ride up to a 12,000 foot pass on a sore leg.

Eh, no problem.

Endo In The Sage

Day one of vacation on Saturday entailed a drive from the Denver area to Gunnison to hang out with my sister, family and friends at the 24 Hours In The Sage mountain bike race. The plan for the following day was to run a 14er in the Lake City area, but it was not to be.

Here's my farewell to home from a nearby park next to Green Mountain in Lakewood:


Coming into Buena Vista you get this great view, which is now extremely familiar after many trips west on US-285:


After burning a couple of hours in Salida including lunch at Amica's, I rolled into Gunnison in the afternoon around the time that my sister's husband Jamie's team was getting ready to switch riders. The next rider Steve graciously traded places so Jamie could ride, and I could tag along and get a taste of the race course before dark. Since for me this would be ride #17 ever on a mountain bike, that thought had not even occurred to me. Minor butterflies for a moment, then I got to it.

The first part of the course was gradual: a mile or so on a paved road out to Hartman Rocks. Then the fun began, as we climbed up the steep front face of the park. It was not brutal, just turny and steady, with a couple of rocky spots that I walked. Then you hit the roads and start riding through the sage:

Jamie and another rider behind me
I managed to keep up for the 5-mile uphill based simply on general conditioning and the fact that my brother-in-law had ridden the course already and had to pace himself for more loops in the upcoming 12 hours. There were definitely skills involved, and there were a few mildly rocky descents, but in skiing terms it was the equivalent of a blue trail so far.

Endo

At some point about 3/4 of the way through, there was an innocuous sandy Jeep road with a turnoff to the left -- probably the most sedate part of the entire ride. I grabbed a drink from my bottle, and reached down to put it back.

What happened next is somewhat cloudy, since it all occurred within about 2 seconds and I was flying through the air. I think my wheel got mired in the sand, I hit the brakes, and my feet didn't un-clip. Jamie said all he saw was my back wheel arcing over the sagebrush. I vaulted over the handlebars, but my clips kept me from clearing the bike so it came down on/under me, and I think I jammed my right quad into my handlebars. At some point my knee got banged up and my elbow became scraped and bloody. Heck, I don't know what happened, I was too busy being a pretzel.

1:45 In The Sage
I gamely stood up but my leg hurt like hell and I couldn't put much weight on it at first. Crap. Just what I needed: another injury to interrupt my activities, and on a stupid flat part of the trail. Although in the end, that was probably a good thing.

After about 10 (?) minutes of me grimacing, limping and walking it off, we rode away, with me barely being able to pedal. He was very patient and was all concern, the race was secondary. And he offered this comforting medical-professional thought: "In 20 years I've never seen anyone with a broken femur walk." Heh. Well, that's a start :)


Maybe it was my imagination, but on the last 1/4 even the mild downhills seemed sandier, grabbing at my wheels and trying to toss me into the sagebrush -- which they succeeded in doing one more time. I was probably braking too much.

The runout

Then we hit The Notch and the rocky downhill afterwards, and for me the walking began.

The terrain was steep, narrow and totally beyond my meager skills. Since I was obviously OK and would simply walk the rest of the way down to the road if necessary, Jamie took off down the blue-black run to try to regain some time. I was probably making faces with every step downhill, and had to constantly step off-trail for the pros and experts flying down the steep (to me) singletrack.

I finally got down to the parking lot and somehow started cranking and passing riders. I regained a little bit of dignity. Eventually I caught up to Jamie on the flat road, and we rode in together, me branching off before the start/finish (I wasn't sure if it was cool for me to go through the chute).

Jamie was very nice and complimentary about my ride considering my inexperience, and apparently up until my wreck, we were only 5 or 7 (?) minutes off his typical loop time. Unfortunately my masochistic acrobatics extended that by another 25 minutes. Good thing that made little difference in their overall standings. Even with another 25 minutes they could not have done another lap in the allotted time; otherwise, that would have added a nice helping of guilt on top of the pain.

It was great to go out on course with Jamie, hang out at the race with family and friends, eat too much food, drink Ska beer on tap, and enjoy the mellow scene.

Lemons

On the long drive to Durango on Sunday, the emotional sting of my mistake weighed on my mind. I could barely walk up stairs, lift my leg, or put weight on it, let alone run, or hike up/down a mountain. In one stroke I had blown my annual chance to run a San Juan 14er as I passed through Lake City (the logistics of the Durango-area 14ers are more difficult) and possibly my recreation for the rest of my summer vacation. I was not a happy camper. A sample of IPA at the Ouray Brewery helped a little.

I feel better two days later and can walk more normally. Not sure how things will pan out, but I trust my lemonade-making skills will be needed for a little while.

Good CO Sports Weekend, Vacation

I've been low-key lately, resting from running, getting ready for vacation next week, and humming along at work.

I have not run for 10 days or so, and the body feels good. I had gotten to the point where my attempts at rest and maintenance were no longer working, and I had developed some worrisome tendonitis in the knees. Nothing drastically painful, it's just that one of my criteria for running is to keep the aches and pains limited to stuff that's strictly day-to-day and temporary, and to not let anything build up. I try to incorporate enough rest, stretching and massage that things remain under control. And I try to run in a way that does not pound my body. Somewhere between the daily 7 to 8-mile runs and the 15 to 20-mile peak runs, it just wasn't working. My knees also don't sound as smooth as they used to, which I don't like. I plan to use my original bodily OEM equipment for as long as possible.

Maybe my gait needs adjustment (I experimented a bit on my last hike). Maybe I need to re-assess my choice of shoes. Maybe I need a doc to tell me what to do. We'll see.

The patellar tendonitis is almost gone. I still feel a very faint twinge of pain when moving a leg this way or that, so I'm not done resting. Heck, maybe I'll never go back to running several times a week, I don't know. That all remains to be seen.

I'm on vacation starting tomorrow so I'll be hitting Uncompaghre Peak and areas nearby on Sunday, and I'm itching to try running a bit. Tired of sitting around. Plus it would be a hassle to change my nick from "mtnrunner2".

But enough about me.

This weekend and next week is a great time for CO sports, with the Leadville 100 trail run, Pikes Peak Ascent and Marathon, and the Pro Cycling Challenge (I may attend part of it). Lots of folks doing great things this weekend.

So, go out and have some fantastic races, runs and rides, folks! It'll be fun to follow along.

Ouzel Falls Hike

Sunday I did a hike from the Allenspark TH up to Ouzel Falls and returned through the Wild Basin TH. If you've never been on the upper trail here (vs. the more popular one in the valley), it's worth a look.

Total distance was 10.59 miles, time 4:07, and elevation gain 2,069 feet.


The trailhead is tucked away on residential roads west of Allenspark, and has spots for about 15 vehicles. The trail itself was not busy but also not vacant; I probably saw people every 15 minutes or so. The first mile or more is uphill through woods, with no sense of what lies around you:


The trail ascends for a while and seems to flirt with being at tree line, but never really rises above it. Nonetheless, the trees seem to take the brunt of harsh weather:


And the forest starts to open up:


Just after mile 2, the trail wraps around an aspen-covered hillside and you get some sweeping views up the valley. Below is Meeker on the right, with the square top of Longs peeking over the ridge, and the pyramid-shaped Pagoda Mountain on the left:


The view down the valley, with Tanima Peak in the middle:


Here is part of Calypso Cascades:


There are several threads of water coming down but this is the main one. There's a nice series of bridges across and places to sit. A trail down to the valley floor also branches out from here.

A bit more than 1 mile later is Ouzel Falls:


Moss and ferns growing near the spray from the falls:


After this I doubled back to Calypso Cascades, took a left down to the valley floor and then right towards the ranger station and the Wild Basin parking lot.

The trail back up to Allenspark is down the road a couple of tenths of a mile on the right, and there is a sandy trail that parallels the road for most of the way, on the right. The trail itself angles steeply up a ridge to leave the valley, and then makes a sharp right turn at the top to descend into a second valley (Allenspark is up a second hill).


The terrain on the other side of this ridge is more open and filled with aspens and ferns.


At the top of the second ridge you go left and the parking lot is less than a mile away.

Afterwards I headed into town (Estes Park) for a short while to get something to eat, and the gloomy skies cleared up while I was walking. This is from a park in town:


From Lily Lake as I was leaving town:


Even though I've been going to Rocky Mountain National Park for years, and our family used to vacation around Allenspark, I had never been on this trail. I was more enthusiastic about hiking than the rest of my family, and we just never made it past the centerpiece RMNP trails like Bear-to-Emerald Lake. It was fun to revisit this area years later and get caught up.

Bear Creek Walk

Took a walk along Bear Creek in Lakewood on Saturday. Gets a little buggy in the shadows but not too bad for generally bug-free Colorado.




This horse farm is right on Estes St. (I think I referred to it as Garrison before), among standard suburban homes:


Still sitting it out on the running front. I have to admit my body feels better when I don't run :\

Shack, Wet Mountain Valley

This abandoned structure is along SH 165 east of the Sangre de Cristo Range, which is in the background.

Saturday - Lake Isabel

Later in the day last Saturday I made it down into the shadows of the Wet Mountains near Colorado City, which is a small mountain range between Pikes Peak and the Sangre de Cristo Range. I had no idea what was over there, so I just got off the highway and headed up SH 165 into the hills.

After ascending from the dry plains, the drive is similar to the winding mountain roads west of Denver, with pine-covered valleys in every direction. Eventually I made it up to Lake Isabel:


The tiny "town" of San Isabel is on the north shore of the lake, and has a few homes, some rentals, and The Lodge at San Isabel. It's an archetypal small mountain lodge built from logs and containing a tiny general store/gift shop and restaurant. It brings back memories of many summers.

I have to say the lake and the area are beautiful, and at some point I'd like to make it the rest of the way up to the "T" at SH 96 (the highway between Florence and Westcliffe).

The lodge and town patrons seemed like typical American summer vacationers right out of the Vacation series.

The fishing crowd around the lake was a bit rougher and louder, including high-school kids who looked like they were taking a day off from taking kids' lunch money. I didn't really fit in, with my strange clothes and fancy electronics, running on trails where I half expected to stumble upon some sort of illicit activity behind every bush. There were surprise cans and broken bottles here and there in otherwise beautiful secluded spots like singletrack along the creek. Up in the Denver area, for the most part the public places I frequent are free of trash (except for bags of dog poop), so it had me thinking of this melodramatic old PSA (and I'm old enough to have seen that on TV the first time around!).

But most of the lake is clean and beautiful, and the occasional beer can shouldn't dissuade anyone from stopping for a visit.


There isn't an abundance of trails, but I managed to eke out a stop-and-go run/hike on trails around the lake, although I began to suspect that the people fishing didn't really take kindly to my running down through the brush and over crunching gravel while they were trying to coax fish into biting an unnatural piece of neon-colored plastic. I'm perceptive like that. That, and the fact that they had their poles over the trail and didn't seem inclined to move. There are no loop trails higher up off the shoreline, so I ran up a steep embankment to the road and got outta there, passing through the scent of marijuana smoke on my way up the scruffy escape route.


On the other (northeast) side of the highway is a parking lot with some social trails that led down into the woods, so I took one. It rambled along the creek that trickled out of the dammed end of the lake. In spite of this unnatural beginning, within 100 yards I began to feel like I was out in the middle of nowhere in a primeval jungle. Even with the people, this place is wild.


There was a great small meadow with aspen...


...which must be the most photogenic tree in the world. They are just visually fascinating to me.


On my way up out of the woods I crossed paths with the most lackadaisical deer ever, who just sat there chewing on grass as I composed various shots. Talk about tame. It acted like somebody's pet.


After the hike/run, it was about time for dinner, and I had spotted a BBQ place back in Colorado City, so that's where I headed. Unfortunately when I sat down, I was basically ignored by two servers for 15 minutes, one of which spent her time jabbering to the beautiful people at one particular table. Plus I overheard the kitchen was taking forever. I got up and left. Maybe some other time when they are less busy, and when better servers are working.

So, fast food it was, that night. But MR2's Bar was serving:


I watched a bit of Robin Hood (Russell Crowe version), got my gear ready and hit the sack, in preparation for this outing.