4314

A few weeks ago Josh, a regular Gastrobiker, sent us an account of a memorable ride he had done in Colorado, where he now lives, and offered it up as a guest post on our blog, which has been neglected over recent months.  I have been so busy over the past few weeks that I have only just had time to read it and look at the pictures. With the Marmotte only a couple of weeks away, now seems an appropriate time to post it, so thanks Josh.  We hope to see you again soon

Soph

4314 meters (or 14,154 feet for non-metric people)...  It's the highest point in North America (and Europe for that matter) where one can ride a road bike.  The location of this famous piece of pavement is the summit of Mt. Evans, Colorado, situated about 30 miles west of Denver in the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains.  Having moved to Colorado earlier this year, the prospect of riding up Mt. Evans was high on my list of rides to do.  The road opened for the season last weekend and yesterday I made the bold decision to make a summit attempt.  The ensuing ride was undoubtedly one of my most challenging (both mentally and physically) and I experienced some of the harshest weather ever on a bike.

 

My memorable day began with a 4:30 AM wakeup.  My plan was to start the ride in Golden (a suburb of west Denver) and I wanted to be on the road riding by 6:30.  The reason for such an insanely early start was to minimize the risk of getting hit by thunderstorms.  Afternoon thunderstorms in the Colorado mountains in late spring / early summer are a common occurrence and yesterday's forecast was typical; a 40% chance of afternoon storms.  With a 6:30 start in mind, I anticipated reaching the summit by 11:00 and being off the mountain out of harms way by noon should the inevitable happen.

 

Golden, the starting point of my ride, sits at an elevation of roughly 1800 m.  It's not hard to see that there's at least 2500 m of climbing in a little over 50 miles.  The actual amount of vertical gain to the summit is likely well over 3000 m as there are a couple of short descents and some rolling hills along the way.  (I wish Powertap could measure vertical gain!)  Heading south out of Golden, the first 10 miles of the route was rolling as I rode by Red Rocks Park towards Morrison.  (For those of you who have the Evergreen DVD for the Tacx Fortius trainer, you would recognize this part of the route!)  The temperature was around 15C; comfortable but somewhat discerning knowing how much colder it would 2500 m above.

Out of Morrison, I headed west to Evergreen where the road climbed very gradually through Bear Creek Canyon gaining around 400 m of elevation in about 10 miles.  I continued along the very undulating Evergreen Parkway to Bergen Park where a much needed water stop was made.  Heading west out of Bergen Park, the proper climb to Mt. Evans began. A mileage sign indicated 32 miles to the summit.  The first part of the climb was a steady 14 mile ascent to Squaw Pass summit at 3400 m.

 

A short descent brought me to Echo Lake with the junction of the Mt. Evans Highway and the tollbooth where I paid the obligatory $3 toll.  It was now 9:45 and I felt confident that I could climb the remaining 1200 m in 14 miles to reach the summit by 11:00.  The temperature had dropped to around 10C, but I was still comfortable riding in summer kit.  The prospect of thunderstorms anytime soon seemed highly unprobable; there were only a few high thin clouds and the summit was visible.

Beyond the tollbooth, I could see the road winding up the mountain. The views looking east towards Denver were stunning. The effect of climbing for nearly four hours was beginning to take its toll. My legs seemed okay; I just felt very drowsy.  I was still putting out a sub-threshold heartrate (as I had been doing for almost the entire ride up to this point), but my power output was embarrassingly diminished. The consistent 5% grades felt like 10% at sea level.  Holding 200W was a struggle; unbelievable given my HR and the fact that my threshold power is 300W at sea level!  But I didn't really care about the numbers.  I only wanted to ride within my capabilities while enjoying the breathtaking scenery.

 

With 10 miles to go, I was now above treeline and completely vulnerable to the elements.  A group of cyclists came whizzing by in the opposite direction and gave me a thumbs up.  A few thicker clouds had developed but I decided to continue on.  I reached Summit Lake at 3950 m with another five miles to go.  At this point I was beginning to get rather nervous.  It was overcast and a few grains of snow started to fall.  I stopped to put on my gillet and my winter gloves.  As I rounded Summit Lake, I could not believe what I heard; a deafening bang of thunder followed by the sight of lightening in the distance.  The forecast was for afterNOON thunderstorms, i.e. after 12:00.  It was only 10:45.  I debated whether to abandon my attempt.  I thought to myself that if I were to abandon it would still be about a half hour descent until I could get into some shelter.  But I also knew that there would be shelter at the summit.  I could always wait out any storm at the top if need be.  With arm warmers, a gillet and thick gloves, I didn't actually feel too cold.  I decided to press on for a bit and at the very least try to get above 4000 m.  Shortly before my GPS registered an elevation of 4000 m, there were a few more rumbles of thunder but thankfully no lightening.  But the light snow grains had turned to a pelting hail.

Despite the hail turning to snow with a mile to go, I didn't feel too cold (yet).  It must have been a surge of adrenaline which was regulating my temperature.  At last, I reached the summit at around 11:15.  A kind group of skiers remarked that it was 29F (-2C).  I got off the bike to walk around and take a few pictures.  The visibility was very poor.  It was still snowing and I didn't feel like waiting around for the storm to pass as my legs were beginning to tremble.

About to begin the mother of all descents, I realized that I couldn't clip in.  The skiers were right; it was definitely below freezing as I discovered that my cleats were encased in a solid block of ice.  Shaky legs and an unstable platform to place my shoes would only make the descent more unnerving.  If you've ever done the Marmotte and have stayed at Alpe d'Huez the night before, you might know what it's like descending to Bourg d'Oisans at 6:00 AM.  My descent off of Mt. Evans was in a different league of its own.  It was the coldest I have ever experienced on a bike.  The descent was prolonged having to be extremely cautious, not only because of the lack of instability due to my legs and non-functioning pedals, but also due to the slushy roads and reduced visibility.

 

The descent seemed to take forever.  About 12 miles into the descent, I reached a ranger's hut where I decided to stop in hopes that the hut might be heated in an attempt to warm up.  The snow at the summit had turned to a light rain and so there was nothing to lose by stopping and waiting out the storm.  I walked into the hut, legs still trembling and teeth chattering, and unfortunately couldn't locate a warm fireplace!  The ranger obviously took notice of the state I was in and offered to let me sit in his car to warm up.  I gratefully accepted his offer and sat in the car with the heat on full blast for ten minutes.

 

With my spirits lifted, I thanked the ranger and resumed the long descent.  The rain had stopped and the roads were dry but it still looked threatening.  The next 16 miles or so of descent towards Idaho Springs was brilliant, barely needing to apply the brakes at all.  Out of Idaho Springs, the route headed back east towards Denver on a combination of bike paths and state roads running parallel to the interstate. This 10 mile section caught me by surprise as it was far from downhill and featured two short climbs.  At last, the rolling hills subsided and I began the final descent of the day off of Lookout Mountain into Golden.  Lookout is Denver's little version of Alpe d'Huez and the views heading down were equally impressive.

I ended up riding 107 miles in 7 1/2 hours.  Compared to the Marmotte route, I would say (based on my Marmotte time) that today's ride was somewhat easier, only because it ended with a descent and not with a 13 km climb at 8%. But, certainly the difficulty of the first 100 miles of today's ride is comparable to the Marmotte circuit minus Alpe d'Huez.  Overall, today's ride was one of my most memorable and enjoyable.  I highly recommend the route if you're ever in the Denver area (but take note that more sensible people start in Idaho Springs, Bergen Park, or even the tollbooth at Echo Lake).

 

In hindsight, I realize that I probably should have turned around immediately when I saw the first flake of snow at Summit Lake.  But I had come so far and I was determined to reach the summit.  Understandably, it can be so hard to pack for a ride with such extreme temperature variations (it was 77F / 25C when I got back to Golden) especially on a road bike where you're limited to the amount of gear you can carry. Thank God I decided to stuff my winter gloves in my remaining free jersey pocket.  My hands were the only part of me which stayed warm and allowed me to control the bike on the treacherous descent of Mt. Evans.

 

A secondary goal of the ride was to survey the route in anticipation of the Mt. Evans hill climb which I have entered for the 18th of July.  Conditions should be more favourable as the race has an early morning start and begins in Idaho Springs (hence "only" a 28 mile climb compared to nearly 50+ miles if staring in Golden).  There's also a bag drop so staying warm on the descent will not be too much of a concern!

Thanks again Josh.  What a ride!  Sorry about the change in fonts - that sometimes happens when I copy and paste and I don't have time to work out why at the moment.