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Breakfast at Hurricane, went to Zion. Corrected my altimeter at visitor center.
Zion plays second fiddle to Bryce, by a long way. Narrow canyon with high red sandstone walls – but really no sculpture. Drove scenic route, hiked a mile or so into the Narrows. Best part was plants growing from cliffs where the water seeped and trickled out. Cut it short – we need to get in some miles today.
A bunch of bikies at visitor center – a dozen kids and one adult. Bikes all mountain style with knobbly tires, except one, probably the leader’s. As they left, they all rode down the steps and the wrong way out of the parking lot. All wearing helmets, but clearly lots to learn about responsible cycling.
Rest of day was long and hot. Beautiful drive on highway 9 east from Zion. Lots more scenery along the way, including a long tunnel whose wall occasionally opens to display the gorge outside.
Page, Arizona for lunch. Mexican restaurant. The one waitress was a busser (politically correct term for busboy) who had just been promoted that day when the other waitress quit. She was overwhelmed, but trying hard. Gave her a big tip.
Stopped at Four Corners. Definitely not worth it. Decided we didn’t have time to make Durango tonight, settled for Cortez.
Dropped Loren at junction of highways 160 and 666, 20 miles out, so he could ride in and loosen up a little.
Found KOA at Cortez, not very nice. Tried motel with campground just up the street. It was okay, better facilities, poor but adequate lawn for tents. Went back downtown to meet Loren, who showed up right away. Loren’s adventure on the way in was helping a woman with a flat tire loosen the tight lug nuts.
Got gas, stopped at supermarket/deli for fruit, salad bar, sandwiches. Dark by the time I got back to camp. Wanted some light to eat by. The laundromat was not very congenial and was full of mosquitoes; the lounge in the motel office was the obvious place. Went in, asked the clerk if it was okay to eat there. She started hemming and hawing, obviously trying to figure out how to say no politely. The phone rang, I said, “We won’t leave a mess,” and by the time she was off the phone, it was a fait accompli. I’m happy to ask forgiveness, if not permission.
43.68 miles, 3:01, 2700 vertical feet, maximum speed 37 mph
10 AM, Durango
Up this morning at 6. Saw a vee of southbound ducks. Ate an apple and some grapes left over from last night. Loren decided to sleep in, so I rode alone while Jacky went running.
Cortez is at about 6200'; the Durango sign says 6512'. In between is 2700' of climbing, cresting at about 8200'. So although I thought originally that I might get past Durango, I decided to wait at the west outskirts for Jacky. Too much risk of missing each other in the town, and the time was about right for a rendezvous.
On the road just out of Cortez: a dead beaver. Strange – nothing that looked like beaver habitat anywhere near, and I wouldn’t have guessed that beaver would get out on the roads anyway. But the paddle tail made identification unambiguous.
Low black cloud over Durango when I started, but the sun rose above it and the clouds dissipated. Cool during the uphills, warmed up later.
As the steel guardrail is illuminated by the rising sun, it expands and makes pinging noises.
Sorry we don’t have time to visit Mesa Verde. Next time.
Met eight or ten cyclists heading west out of Durango, riding separately. Durango bike club Thursday morning ride? I was surprised at the proportion of women, until I considered it in its weekday morning context. Evidence of a substantial cycling community in southwest Colorado. Great!
While waiting here, I saw a column of really filthy smoke. Thought something was on fire, expected to hear the sounds of emergency response. Instead, “Chuff! Chuff! Chuff!” and the Durango and Silverton Narrow Gauge train pulled out of the station. I wonder if they have to get some kind of special air pollution permit.
Later:
Jacky and Loren scooped me up. Breakfast was more like lunch at Bayfield. Real evergreen mountain scenery on climb through 10,850' Wolf Creek pass – beautiful. Lots of aspen, too. Continental divide at top. River on east side is Rio Grande! Not very grande right here.
Stopped at Buena Vista (locals call it Bona Vista) for a big pile of groceries, and on to Mt Elbert lodge. The storms building up unleashed just as we left Buena Vista. We were mostly on the edge of the storm, but nonetheless got some heavy duty rain for a few minutes. Drove out of it.
Lodge full of family. Most of the kids are girls. The bubble-gum set decided Loren was interesting, much to his discomfort. He pitched his tent on the lawn, well away from the other tents.
The plan is to hike Black Cloud trail to the top of Mt Elbert tomorrow. Mt Elbert is second only to Whitney in the 48 adjacent states. At 14,433', it’s only about 60 feet lower. Our host lent us Mt Elbert descriptive booklets and a topo map.
11 miles, 4733 vertical feet
Up at 5 to get an early start. Of the 7 or 8 who had committed to the hike last night, only four of us actually showed up. Our host had left out an early breakfast for four – he’s obviously seen this before. Pat damaged her knee yesterday and couldn’t go, leaving Mark, Jacky, Loren and me. On the trail by 6:40. The trailhead is only a few hundred feet down the road from the lodge, and starts at about 9700'.
Everything is steep: there are 4700 vertical feet in a trail 5.5 miles long, for an average grade that works out to over 16%. Some parts are steeper than others, but almost all of it is steep. The level of effort was like climbing stairs.
Jacky and I wore cycling tights under long pants. I had a chamois shirt over a polypro undershirt; Jacky wore a tee shirt and a long-sleeved shirt. Jackets and plastic pants for cold, and aluminized mylar space blankets in case of real emergency.
The lower part of the mountain is mostly aspen forest, mixed with pine and beautiful blue spruce. Lovely wildflowers, horsetail ferns. Black Cloud creek crashing down through the woods.
Deer eat aspen bark in winter – there were scars on the trees. Two parallel bars, look like vertical lips. The deer must not find them too tasty, because the trees aren’t denuded of their bark.
Tumbledown cabin at the tree line just below 12,000' – belonged to a miner. Spring that originates Black Cloud creek just above the cabin. Got in 1000' in each of the first two hours. Third hour about 800'.
Large fluffy thistles, a lot of them above the tree line, looking like something out of the little shop of horrors. Tundra rich and lush. Lots of soil between the rocks, rich vegetation, clearly lots of rain (no streams). Climb to the ridge was on a steep series of switchbacks. Ridge starts above 13,000', runs west, climbs a hump over 14,000', then descends before its final turn to the north and ascent to the summit. Deeply colored granite, black, red. Even some white quartz. Very different from Whitney.
Around 12,500', the altitude got to Jacky; she decided to proceed at her own pace. This was in the series of near-vertical switchbacks.
The thick vegetation gives up around 14,000' where the ridge turns north. From there on, it’s a scramble up loose rocks. Even the summit is loose rocks – where did they come from? why haven’t they tumbled down the slope through the course of the millenia? [Found out later that it’s the freeze-thaw cycle that splits the rocks at the top of mountains.] Still lots of lichens and little wildflowers.
Above the tree line, lots of pikas. Could hear them all the time, see them occasionally. Only Jacky saw a marmot on the ascent. Wind on the upper ridge was so strong I actually had to tack into it.
Reached the peak at 12:15. My first fourteener!
There were maybe a dozen people at the top. There was a register to sign, with maybe a dozen pages full of names. The oldest entry was August 1: lots of traffic!
Loren and I signing the register, Mark arriving a bit later. |
There were other mountains in all directions. One red mountain stood out – don’t know its name. Pike’s Peak was standing alone on the southeast horizon.
The weather was building up, threatening. Everyone started down, including us.
Met Jacky around 14,100' level, just at the beginning of the final ridge. Truly impressed that she had made it so far after the altitude trouble. Forgot to get a picture of her – a painful oversight. Because of the deteriorating weather, she decided to come down with us.
Loren, with his 17-year-old knees, was a lot faster on the descent than we were. While waiting for us at one stop, he and a marmot got into a philosophical contemplation of each other, bellies to the ground, chins on front paws. Finally, Loren gently got out his camera and got a shot of the little guy. A real shame the rest of us didn’t have a telephoto lens good enough to capture the exchange between them.
The weather was really looking bad, so we insisted that Loren get down as fast as he could. He had only cotton clothes; we had plastic, nylon, Gore-tex, etc. So Loren took off, and we next saw him back at the lodge.
We wanted to stay off the ridge to reduce the risk of lightning, so we came directly down a steep rocky slope. Tough descent. Lots of loose rock. Fortunately, the really bad-looking weather mostly passed us by. No lightning on our mountain, and the worst precipitation we got was a few minutes of moderate sleet.
The sun came out, the day turned nice. We stripped off cold weather gear. Inspected topo map and discovered that the slope we were heading down ended at the trail – in fact, at the old abandoned cabin. Once we looked for it, we could see the cabin, some 2000' down just inside the tree line. So we were at least bushwhacking to the right place.
Mark spotted three or four ptarmigans just above the cabin. If they hadn’t moved, we never would have seen them. We were faster once we got to the trail. Beat our objective to be home by 6: back at 5:54.
A good, difficult, day. We were lucky on the weather – could have been a lot more uncomfortable than it was.
Significant sunburn. In a single day, no more bikie tan on the backs of my hands. Face burned too, despite my Indiana Jones hat.
When we got back, Loren was busy replacing the rear tire on Jacky’s bike, which had worn through and was showing the casing.
33.87 miles, 2280 vertical feet, maximum speed 35 mph
Before leaving home, Jacky called Mike, who agreed to drive down from Denver today for lunch and a renewal of old times. I decided to ride to Aspen, expecting Mike and Jacky to drive over and meet me at the Aspen post office.
Up at 6. Woke Loren, who decided to sleep in. On the road by 7:15, 12,095' Independence pass at 8:45. That works out to a climb rate of about 1400'/hour, not too bad for 10,000-12,000'.
Some stiffness in the legs from yesterday, mostly quads. Worked out the stiffness after a few miles, but still not much strength.
Talked with a bicycle tourist who had started in Washington state, ridden to San Diego, headed east, and was on the last leg to his new winter home in Aspen. Grubby bike, no front rack, two beat-up looking rear panniers, sleeping bag. Wearing a baseball cap. Wandering all over the road. Didn’t even know I was coming up behind him until I clicked my brake handles at him. On the other hand, he had toe clips and half-step plus granny gearing. Said he had gone down 101 in California, but also agreed he had ridden the Monterey coast. Asked him about traveling so light – said he had shipped his tent home to reduce weight in mountains. Definitely on the flakey side – but out there doing it!
Cool climb. Kept my jacket on until the road broke out into the sun. Jacket back on for descent.
The east side of Independence pass is a series of long gentle switchbacks, a good road. The west-side descent is a lot of twisty-windy road, with a low posted speed limit. I was very cautious rolling from sunlight into shade – concerned about black ice – but there wasn’t any. Fingers numb. Note to myself: next time, bring the winter gloves as well as the winter everything else. Someone later told me the thermometer said 36° this morning.
The old townsite of Independence is about 1000' down the west side. A few log cabins, restored to some extent, but no Walt Disney.
Steady downhill to Aspen, elevation 79xx'. Several places, the road narrowed to really only one lane, with a stone fence along the edge of the drop-off. Met half a dozen cyclists heading east, none of them loaded for touring.
Aspen is shown with a population of 3600 in our old Atlas. Clearly has grown a lot. Bigger than I would have imagined. New, clean, yuppie, bike paths, parks, upscale shops, ski runs clearly visible on mountains above the town.
Thought I would find our agreed post office rendezvous by just cruising around a little, but this is a big town! Asked a pedestrian in a residential area, who gave me superb directions – steered me onto a bike path that terminated in the post office parking lot.
Locked up bike, went to explore. First stop: a bike shop across the street where I picked up a free map of Aspen. Second stop: park bench where I’m writing this – 10:15 AM.
3:30 PM
Spent a couple hours strolling around Aspen. Stopped in at the first one or two bike shops just for familiar surroundings, then started skipping them. Really a yuppie town. Restaurants competing side-by-side on yuppiness. The Renaissance restaurant’s menu, perhaps the most spectacular: the quilted giraffe’s beluga caviar beggar’s purse? for a mere $20? Didn’t eat there!
Overheard someone talking about jalapeño peppers, pronounced jalopy-no. Took me a minute to figure out what he was talking about. Maybe the ultimate in yuppie sophistication is to mispronounce Spanish words!
Found a grocery store, got a quart of OJ. Aspen Music Festival in progress, focussing on Mozart and Dvorák. Six concerts today, but no way we want to drive the road back to Mt Elbert lodge after dark tonight!
Saw Jacky and Mike driving by. Mike saw me at the same time. He jumped out while Jacky found a parking place.
Ate at a coffee house upstairs in Explore Booksellers, an excellent bookstore. I had good veggie lasagna. Mike, believe it or not, had a tofu burger and actually claimed to enjoy it.
Lunch on a covered deck. Flowers around the perimeter. Mike, who knows something about entomology, identified a sphynx moth going around the flowers. I could distinctly see its proboscis poked into a flower, a good inch long, almost as long as its body. Loud argument at next table: “I tell you that’s not a hummingbird – it’s a moth of some kind!” “How could it be a moth? Moths don’t do that kind of thing!” We didn’t intervene.
Swapped stories and pictures with Mike. He had a large color print of his brother Todd flying upside down under a string held on poles by a couple of guys standing on either side of a runway. Shadow of the plane on center line of runway. Mike said the string was about 18 feet above the ground.
Outlined our bike tour to Mike. He commented that I should have been a USMC drill instructor – to which I responded that, in contrast to USMC drilling, the work we did was (mostly) voluntary. Wonder if Loren would agree!
Mike has his own interesting pronunciations…he was telling us about the original French economy car, the deux chevaux, but pronounced it doe chevaux.
Nice campfire last night near Lake creek, behind the lodge. Smoke mostly going up, instead of into our faces, stars out, moon visible over the peaks to the south. Very peaceful.
Some guy came around selling pan pipes, barefoot, scruffy. I thought it was kind of fun, but got totally turned off when his backwoods yogi pitch included uv-resistant varnish. Then he started asking which one was Mt Elbert. I couldn’t continue suspending my disbelief, and Jacky and I left.
Up at 6, out by 7:30. Said good-bye to Loren, who’s returning directly to Lincoln with some of the gang. He told me he’s already determined his revenge for the bike trip: he wants to take me backpacking next summer!
Came home in two days, rather than the intended three. Went through Gunnison canyon to Grand Junction, then home on US 50. Stayed in Ely, Nevada. Didn’t enjoy US 50 in California at all – far too much traffic for the quality of the road. Good Filipino restaurant at an arbitrary I-5 exit in Stockton. Avocet bike computer went brain dead from being in rain, but recovered after two or three days of sitting in a sunny window.
Got handlebars re-taped, both bikes. Got a new saddle for my bike. Found cord showing through my rear tire, replaced it. Took Jacky’s wheel in for a professional inspection – no problems. Spent an hour studying front shifter, and three minutes putting it right after I finally understood how it was supposed to work.