Because adventures in the mountains sound so much better than racing a hill climb!
When my new friend Lydia asked if anybody wanted to join her last weekend on a 14er hike I jumped at the chance, as I’ve been saying for years every summer that I’d climb a 14er. With an iffy forecast we set out for Camp Hale north of Leadville early Saturday morning to ride the Colorado Trail from Camp Hale to Holy Cross Wilderness. Luckily the weather remained goregous!
Camp Hale was part of the 10th Mountain Division training grounds during WWII. At the end of our ride we spent several miles riding around looking at the ruins and reading the information signs that were around.
Can’t say I see this warning too often on a mountain bike rideRuins of bunkers at Camp Hale
This segment of the Colorado Trail was absolutely amazing! The Camp Hale trail marathon was going on, so our first few miles were shared with trail runners, but soon we had the trails all to ourselves. The trail gradually climbed up to Tennessee Pass, where we got to PET LLAMAS! Tomas and Carlos had just finished up a 115 mile hike with their humans. I love llamas, so this was definitely a highlight for me!
Carlos and Tomas!We crossed the highway to get a photo with the pass signFlowy single track through green sceneryParts of the trail had it’s share of chunk!Looking for trolls!
We stopped short of the wilderness boundary as the trail turned quite rocky and hike-a-bike. We didn’t quite realize how much climbing we had done until we turned around and absolutely flew all the way back to our cars! With the riding around Camp Hale, the ride came in at 30 miles with just about 3000 feet of climbing. Amazing day adventuring on the bikes with no pressure of going fast!
We swung through Leadville for some dinner, and then continued onto Buena Vista for a quick grocery store stop and then up Cottonwood Pass where we would car camp and get an early start on our Mount Yale hike
My new Fozzy makes an excellent tent! I am just barely too tall to comfortably lay straight out, but I slept pretty damn well considering! Oh, and I learned how to set off my own car alarm… whoops
5:30am came quickly and we got dressed in the chilly morning air and ate a quick snack before setting out. Once again the forecast had called for iffy weather, so we hit the trail at exactly 6am in hopes of beating any bad storms. First thing we noticed was how damn steep the trail is… Mount Yale is no joke in the case of steepness!
Steepness can be overlooked with scenes like this!No really, this is so awful looking. Never hike a 14er in Colorado!
Getting ready to scramble
We took our time summiting, stopping for snacks and to rest. Finally we reached the top, and it was so freaking amazing! The weather was great, with barely any wind and mild temperatures (for being at 14,200 feet!)
Summit-hiking boot shotA guy loaned us his cardboard sign, so had to take the opportunity to look like a typical Coloradoan!I’m on a mountain selfie!PB&J at 14,200
After enjoying a quick lunch on the summit we headed down. Going down is what I dreaded the most as it’s so hard on the knees (and whole body as I would learn). We found it easier at times to run, though it was difficult in big clunky hiking boots. I see the appeal in trail running a 14er now for sure! The last few miles were tough, and Lydia and I were total chatter boxes on the climb up and nearly silent the last few miles! I limped behind, totally not enjoying myself, but as soon as I saw my car I felt so accomplished!
I’ve done two 14ers, Mount Evans and Pikes Peak, via road bike and found that to be easier in a sense than hiking them. Plus the elevation didn’t bother me (backed by heart rate and power data) until about the 13,000 foot mark. Hiking was a different story… my fingers and hands swelled considerably and I had a headache on the summit and it remained until I was below tree line. I think hiking must use more muscles and oxygen demand was higher? And my dumbass purposely did not bring my trekking poles… I should’ve!
Total trip was 9.7 miles with 4,326 feet of elevation gain! Max elevation of course was the summit at 14,200 feet. Starting point was about 9,925 feet according to my Garmin. Not too shabby! Total time with stops was 7 hours 15 minutes, with a moving time of 4 hours 3 minutes.
I’ve already started planning future hiking trips even though I’m still oh so sore! Best way to prevent soreness is to do a lot of it, right?! 😀
Cycling has done incredible things for my life… from fitness and health to crazy adventures and places I never would’ve been, it’s been a great ride the last 5 years. However, due to a character flaw of mine where I have to take something, and then take it to the extreme, in a way I lost myself over the last 5 years. Riding a bike that was originally purchased to get me outside and exploring turned into racing full race schedules of both mountain bike and cyclocross, with a decent spring road season thrown in. Goal was cat 1 license… then pro license… then a UCI points chase to become World Cup eligible. I struggled to juggle life, the bike, goals, and missing out. Missing out. Missing out on fun rides because they wouldn’t be the “right” type of training, missing out on funner races because another race was somehow a better puzzle piece to the wannabe pro racer life, missing out on other adventures for fear of injury/taking time away from the bike, missing out on just hanging out. Dealing with guilt. Guilt when I didn’t ride, when I didn’t ride how I was suppose to ride, when I didn’t want to drag myself to another race.
Then 2017 came. I didn’t train like I usually do, but was still reaching FTP goals. Then I got sick for well over a month in the spring which knocked me on my ass. Nonetheless, I had a crazy successful road season in my first go as a cat 3. But I wasn’t happy. I had to sit down and revaluate what I wanted from a bicycle. I realized I liked the IDEA of racing a World Cup more than actually putting in the money time, effort to try to actually do so. I liked the IDEA of racing constantly but when it came down to it, the travel, time, money was tiresome. I was sick of putting guilt on myself when I didn’t ride. I hated feeling like I was expected, though not sure by who, to show up at certain races or perform a certain way. So I stopped. My mountain bike race calendar got chopped to fewer and fewer races. Sometimes I rode like shit (Gunnison Half Growler), sometimes there was the flicker of a well trained pro license holder (Erock Sunrise to Sunset). I decided to not show up to a Laramie Mountain Bike Series race unless I truly wanted to (4 races into the 6 race series and I haven’t been to a single one). I wasn’t racing any road hill climbs, even though I am a current national champion in that discipline. I decided if my heart wasn’t into it, I wouldn’t do it. If I decided I wanted to run a 5k instead of riding on a weekend, I would. I would take chances, experience new things.
I remember reading a blog years and years ago when I first started riding by an up and coming U23 pro mountain biker, and how she described just walking away from pro cycling after Sea Otter one year and I remember being so confused and couldn’t understand why anyone would do that. I judged her pretty hard honestly, mostly because at that time I would’ve given anything to be racing at world championship events and living the pro life. But I get it now, though I was nowhere near her level.
It’s not just about the bike. I am more than a bicycle.
I can’t say whether this is a permanent change or just a relief from the past several years of heavy racing and training schedules. But I’m liking it, and doing some new things! I’ve actually gone for a run at 6:15am. I’ve climbed a 14er on foot after setting that goal 5 years ago. I’ve gone on some long mountain biking adventures and petted llamas and ignored Strava. I’ve camped in Mr. Fozzy for other reasons than a bike race. I’ve mowed my lawn and watered it faithfully instead of letting it burn up because I needed to be riding a bike instead of moving a sprinkler around every 30 minutes. I’ve lived a more normal life where riding a bike is a part of it, NOT my entire life.
I’m looking forward to a healthier balance on racing, with a bit of Steamboat Stinger thrown in as a duo and hopefully actually enjoying Dakota 5-O this year versus just going through the motions. Naturally, I am tentatively planning on a full cyclocross season because cross is cross and cross is awesome, but really I am not committing to anything at this point. I actually am considering a trail running race even!
Last year at the Tatanka point to point race in Sturgis, SD I had a breakthrough race where I learned that 1) I can race a bike longer than 90 minutes, and 2) Heat doesn’t automatically kill me. I had an amazing time riding really awesome trails. So earlier this summer I decided to throw my hat into the race again.
Then I started to get hesitant…
It was suppose to be mid-90s. I haven’t been riding a lot. My right knee exploded on a road century attempt. And the realization that because I did so well last year, I had personal expectations to do even better. But what if I couldn’t?! Argh.
So I packed up and headed up to Sturgis, about 4:40 of a drive on Friday morning. The drive actually really wore me down, and my right knee was aching anytime I couldn’t use cruise control. Great, not even riding a bike yet and I’m in pain! I picked up my packet once I got into town, and asked to see the start list. I only recognize Jen Toops’ name (strong endurance pro from Ohio who I think is leading the NUE marathon series), and noted the lack of Colorado pro racers. Shoot, now I really have to race as I might have a chance! I thought… to my dismay. I don’t know, it’s easier to know you won’t podium because the field is stacked deep with legit full-time pros.
Drove up to Hog Heaven and grabbed the spot I wanted since last year… nice and shady and down in the trees. I set up camp, and took to staring at my bike, hoping it would do my race openers for me. Finally I kitted up and headed out into the 90 degree sun. Surprisingly, I felt really good. I hadn’t ridden since Tuesday due to the heat, but legs felt peppy. I ended up doing some hill repeats and riding 7 miles in the campground. Hmm… so I felt good. Time to see what the morning would bring!
Thanks to my shady spot, I managed to sleep in longer than last year, waking up at 6:44am, and then dozing on and off until 8am. I was going to ride down to the shuttle pick up with another gal I met at the campground named Cindy, who was racing in her 3rd ever mountain bike race! I ran and got my egg white McMuffin from McDonalds, and enjoyed an earlier breakfast than last year, and drank lots of water and a bottle with a Fizz tablet in it to get loaded up on electrolytes. At 10am we left for the downhill cruise to load up our bikes and wait for the shuttle to Piedmont. On the shuttle ride I choked down a PB&J Bonk Breaker bar, and another bottle of water. Here goes nothing…
Pre-race photo with Cindy from Michigan
The organization of the start was smoother this year, and we didn’t have to stand as long on the hot pavement, though I watched my Garmin creep up to 100 degrees. The start was completely different this year with no Karen Jarchow and Alex Pond to blast off the line, and I found myself and Jen leading out with some men on the “neutral” pavement part. Last year I was out of breathe and dropped hard on this part, but felt strong this year and as we turned onto the Dalton Creek gravel road climb to the start of the single track. Jen was riding strong and hanging onto the wheels of the men in front of her, and I tried my best to stick with her, but found myself gapped. I grappled in my head on if I was going out too hard, but eventually said F it, go hard, see what happens. I won’t lie, I had pictured a podium finish in my mind, so I decided to just go for it.
Single track went well, and unlike the previous year I cleared the first few rock gardens. Suddenly there was a fork in the trail and the guy in front of me that was off his bike yelled “they’re going the wrong way, this is the right way!” So I followed him, thankful he pointed that out. At this point I was in first, but it wouldn’t take long before Jen would be back on course and powering past me. I just concentrated on settling into my pace, which was hard, but not balls to the wall. One of the guys behind me was overheard saying “We have an engine pulling us!”
Due to logging in the area, the first aid station came about a mile sooner, about 5 miles in, and instead of jumping onto the single track of the Centennial Trail, we started a very long grindy fire road climb out of the aid station. I wasn’t going to stop but a cup of cold water tempted me, which I took a sip and then dumped on me. No time to waste and I set out grinding up the dirt road in the hot sun. In a way this change was nice, as I could just settle into a rhythm without worrying about rocks and roots and sharp changes in gradient. We eventually turned off into primitive single track that was overgrown and rough, and I just lightly spun. After that trail we spit out onto another road climb which was covered with cat head sized rocks where were awful to ride out. I started swearing and decided the race promoters must hate us.
Surprisingly, when we re-joined the Centennial Trail I realized we were a lot further down the course that I thought, and set up for the first big descent of the day… steep, lose, with tight switchbacks at the most unfortunate moments. Immediately my handling skills felt off and I couldn’t get in a good grove with my bike, so I knew I wasn’t descending as fast as I could and definitely not as smoothly. But I made it without incidence, and start plodding back uphill when the descent ended. I was kinda of shocked at how fast the course was flying by due to the change in the earlier parts and soon I found myself down in the creek bed jungle, which they had politely trimmed back this year, so visibility was a lot better and the poison ivy a little further away from human contact. I had one near crash as I haphazardly left the trail but saved it with a quick unclipping and change in my balance. The creek beds were dry this year, and not as slippery, so I rode more of them than last year.
After the longest mile ever, I plopped out at the final aid station, where a kid immediately put an iced bandana on my neck and other volunteers set to refilling my camelback, getting me Coke, filling my bottle, and feeding me watermelon. Someone let me know I was the second women in, which I nodded in agreement. I knew exactly where I was, and I knew I couldn’t get too comfortable off the bike for too long as I had no idea the gap back to the third. With my pack back on, bottle filled with cold water, and a big glob of ice down the back of my jersey, I set out for the last 20 miles.
The climbs out of the aid station are a bit heart breaking, but I plodded on, happy to have the stinging pain of frozen skin on my back from the ice and knowing there were some serious descents coming up. Last year I had some pretty serious cloud cover at this point which helped out mentally and physically, but this year was nothing but hot sun and blue skies. On the first long descent I started catching sprint and kid racers, which was a little hairy due to the speeds I would come up on them. Luckily everyone was great with moving aside! Down down down… aching feet and sore hands as they chaffed with my wet gloves. I never wanted the descending to be over so much in my life! Finally the climb up Bulldog arrived. Last year I was quite proud of myself for clearing the 13% average climb, but I rode maybe the first third of it this year and jumped off and walked. Walking kinda felt good, and I really had nothing to prove by riding it!
Bulldog descent went ok. I took it cautiously, knowing it would be easy to lose my podium place or the whole race by getting too ballsy on the descent. Plopping out into the meadow felt great… until I went off course. Because it is not the Tatanka MTB Race if you’re actually staying on course (Everyone I talked to this year went off course at least once… course markings can be… not great). I saw a bunch of white streamers marking a turn onto single track so I grabbed the brakes and turned onto it. Luckily it didn’t take me long to realize it was not leading me under I-90 properly, so I turned around and hauled ass back to the Centennial Trail, pissed off at myself for turning off. Under I-90… yay!
Well, not yay. They changed the end of the course from the Ft. Meade trails of last year, which weren’t that bad, to a newly re-vamped section of the Centennial Trail. I really had no idea what to expect, but I was expecting something similar to last year. Oh no, oh no… why would it be like that? I was not prepared for the long climb to follow on moondust, which made traction hard and killed my willpower so I just started walking the climbs. I swore more, especially every time I rounded a corner and saw the trail continuing up. Dammit dammit dammit, this isn’t want I was wanting! The sun was hot an this section was very exposed. There was some descending before a steep climb up and then double track climb. OMG it’s never ending! I was sad I watched the time click away, nothing I wouldn’t impressively beat last year’s time with the new course changes.
Some of the descents on this section were just stupid with 6-12″ of powdery mood dust to suck in your front tires. When will this be over? Another super fast descent… to another climb. ARGHHH… but wait… bike path up ahead! YESSS! Luckily I was warned by another racer who rode several miles in the wrong direction on how to properly get on the bike path (once again, kinda sketchy course marking) and settled in for a few miles of being a roadie. Glances over my should assured that no one was close, and legs felt good enough that I knew I could throw in a sprint if I had to, but I was happy that I wouldn’t have to. The finish line was about .75 mile further down the path from last year, which added insult to injury to entire section after crossing under I-90.
4 hours 30 minutes. Done and done! Best marathon MTB finish and first NUE podium!
And I still beat last year’s time by 4 minutes even with the last bit of Centennial Trail moon dust madness!
Marathon open women podium!Jen and I with our buffalo trophies
I just might have to come back next year and hope I can win another buffalo 😀
Nutrition:
2 liters with 6 scoops of Tailwind green tea caffeinated endurance fuel and 1.5 scoops of lemon endurance fuel with water topped in it at the aid station. Had 1 liter left at the finish of the watered down mixture. One slice of watermelon. Two 22oz bottles of plain water. Cup of Coke.
Mistakes: No sunscreen on my face. No chamois butter on my hands to prevent my gloves from chaffing. Also forgot a stick of Tailwind to dump on at the refill. I don’t have my crap together when it comes to bike racing this year really!