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Colorado National Monument

Day 1
Colorado National Monument Loop
49.5 Miles
2,992-foot elevation gain

I felt pretty confident I would be able to traverse Colorado National Monument today because I've done it so many times in the past and because I did it twice in May.

I was right. The first couple of miles seemed harder than usual because I hadn't been on my bike in five days, but also because I foolishly didn't train much with my pack this year. For the first couple of miles, I could really feel the weight of my pack.

Thank heavens I had loaded it up with only my raincoat, my arm warmers, my camera and a protein drink. Tomorrow we go up above 10,000 feet, and all my cold-weather gear will be in there. Just in case...


After the first couple of miles today, I guess I got my legs under me because the climb didn't feel harder than it felt in May. The Lizard waited for me at each of the rest stops and exquisite viewpoints, and he said I was making good time.

We would be riding right by a chapel in Fruita, so I hoped to make the 9 a.m. service. I passed by a pair of lovely, plump chukars without stopping for photos because I didn't want to be late for church.

I didn't pass by the bighorn sheep on the descent, though, because by that time, I knew I was at least 15 minutes late for the 9 a.m. meeting. Those photos will have to wait for another day, though, because I didn't shoot them with the iPhone, and I have no way to upload them until I get home.


We took about a mile detour toward the end of today's route to attend the 11 a.m. meeting in Grand Junction.

At the end of the ride, Cyclemeter reported I had beat my worst time by a full 13 minutes! I'll be able to see more ride details when I get home, but for now, I'm pretty happy with today's ride.

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Wordless Wednesday

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Wordless Wednesday

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Return to Cold Shivers

Cold it was not. And yet perhaps more powerful than last time.

With only one partial climb of Deer Creek Canyon this season beneath my belt, I took on Cold Shivers, Colorado National Monument and summer-like temperatures last weekend.

And once again, Van Halen knew just when to pop onto my iPhone playlist. Sammy Hagar crooned again just as I reached Cold Shivers.

"We'll get higher and higher
Straight up we'll climb
We'll get higher and higher
Leave it all behind
So, Baby, dry your eyes
Save all the tears you've cried
Oh, that's what dreams are made of"
-Eddy Van Halen, Alex Van Halen, Michael Anthony, Sammy Hagar
Last time I did this climb, I had not done any physical therapy. Last time I did this ride, I wanted to know if I could. Last time I did Cold Shivers, we did a shortened version, called the Monument Loop. We started at the bottom, pedaled all the way through the Monument, and returned to the starting point for a total of 33 miles. I hurt at the end. Shoot, I hurt all the way through the ride! But the elation of successfully making the climb dulled the pain and heightened my emotions.

This time, I knew I could do it. I have better posture and a stronger core, thanks to PT. This time, we'd just received our periodic Pedal Points newsletter from Ride the Rockies, emphasizing riders should be focused on climbing by now. "You didn't sign up for the flattest ride on the planet," the email read. This time, I still have pain, but it's much more manageable.

And this ascent of Cold Shivers Point, I did it in 55-mile style. No shortcuts.

I had completed 60 miles back in January, before I finished PT. Pain and discomfort increased steadily the last ten miles, but the adrenaline of pedaling 60 miles once again powered me to my goal.

When I reported to the physical therapist, expecting to be congratulated for reaching my goal, instead I was mildly chastised.

"Maybe that's your body telling you you're not ready for 60 miles yet. Why don't you stay under 45 miles for now and try to work up to 60 slowly?" she instructed.

So I have stayed under 38 miles for the very few rides I've been able to do since then, thanks in part to our wintery spring but thanks also to front yard renovations. Ever since we were drawn for Ride the Rockies in March, I have been able to avoid overwhelming feelings of discouragement and self-doubt by continually reminding myself I will be able to participate because I've always been able to finish the ride each of the four times I've done it, come what may.

An amazing thing happened when I stopped focusing on 60 miles each month. Riding became more fun. I can ride where I want when I want, and I don't have to stick with whatever route will give me a specific number of miles. I unwittingly reclaimed a part of my life by sacrificing a renewed 60-mile-ride-a-month streak.

My lone 38-mile training ride since then came a week ago with my first climb of Deer Creek Canyon in many a moon. Deer Creek Canyon is a challenging climb. I knew if I could still climb, I might still be able to do long rides. I knew if I could climb and do long miles, the only Ride the Rockies preparation challenge I would face with my abbreviated training schedule would be consecutive days in the saddle.

Deer Creek Canyon proved I can still climb. And now Cold Shivers Point has proven I can still ride long miles.

Now I just have to develop that saddle callous in three and a half weeks.

I thought I was higher than a kite. But things were about to get better.

As we headed home, I got my first-ever Mother’s Day phone call.

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Pedal Paradise

Day One
Colorado National Monument Loop
49 miles
13 June 2010

There. I've showered. I feel better.

Not that I felt bad. I was just tired, sticky and sweaty. The ride up and over picturesque Colorado National Monument wasn't bad at all. For people who left early. We left very early. I wanted to get back in time to clean up and go to church. On my bike!

The riders coming in now are completely coated with mud. We could see the storm building as we headed back to camp, and we were so glad we weren't up on top anymore. Lightning was putting on quite the show, and the clouds were black as coal and heavy as stone.

We bought "grab and go" breakfast at the community tent before our pre-dawn departure. All food here at the ride is a little pricey. But they do have a great selection. I asked for a burrito with no meat, and they cheerfully made it as requested.

The Lizard wanted a yogurt but wasn't about to pay $4 for it. He had a bowl of Raisin Bran instead.

I did a pretty good job of stretching and fueling during today's ride. Today is just a warm-up. We won't have another "easy" ride all week.

I didn't begin feeling out of energy until the homestretch – mostly hot, dusty frontage road with a slight headwind. It dried me out a bit. I popped right back to life after a couple swallows of Hammer gel and some water.

There are fewer rest stops this year, and less food, although today was an anomaly. Vendors are not allowed in the National Monument. The third stop, outside the Monument, had a little of everything, including Enstrom's ice cream and FREE toffee. Yeah, free!!!

Ride the Rockies rest stops on the Monument each had one fruit and animal crackers. I was glad I had food of my own in my pack. What they had would not have been enough. I'm so glad I brought my own food. We almost left it behind because we didn't have room. Now I realize it might make the difference between me making it through this ride or not for the next six days.

I meant to take my finished crocheted sock up into the Monument so I could shoot a picture of it on the red rock, with riders in the background, especially since I forgot to bring a bear. But I forgot to put the sock in my pack. I guess yarn is just not on my brain right now!

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Bicycle Dreams

Friday was humiliation day.

Saturday, everything we planned went awry, and we didn't get to test-ride the initial portion of the Day Two route of Ride the Rockies as hoped.

Sunday we explored the Day One route of Ride the Rockies.

Monday, I completed my third-highest one-day mileage ever.

Friday we had a very light dusting of snow, so I bundled up, thick full-finger gloves and all. Kept toasty warm. And kept my fingers.

I went into a roundabout a little too fast and failed to negotiate a curve. Chalk it up to inattentiveness; that and a lack of dexterity. I asked The Lizard what I need to do in order to hone my critical thinking and riding instincts. How do I train myself to know going off route into a soft, flat, green field is SO much better than trekking on skinny tires over rocks and grates? He said I need to do more mountain biking.

Admittedly, I am much too conservative on my mountain bike. When I'm four-wheeling, I always say I like the shape of my vehicle and don't want to change it. Same goes for my mountain bike and my body. I like the shape of both, and I don't want to change them.

For at least a couple of years, The Lizard has wanted me to duplicate a timed exposure I shot of him riding through sunflowers. He wants to do the same thing, only riding through Palisade's peach blossoms with Mount Garfield in the background. We planned to do that Saturday. The blossoms were gone, and time constraints prevented us from riding at all that day. We're hoping for another chance next April.

Sunday was an absolute hoot. Colorado National Monument was one of The Lizard's favorite rides for many years before we ever met. The ride up and over was our third date. It was Day 1 of our first Ride the Rockies together. Every chance we get to go back and do it again is just as thrilling as the first for me.

There exists this Code among cyclists. We know the seemingly cryptic meaning of "You doing that this year?" Whatever ride jersey you are wearing, chances are, passing riders either have one of their own underneath their layers or a twin hanging at home. We all know the routine. We all know the exhilaration. And the disappointment.

"You riding that this year?" I was asked over and over and over again as I slowly made my way up the Monument.

"Yeah!" I'd answer, trying not to sound out of breath. "And you?"

"This will be my 11th," came one response.

Eleven. How do they do that? How do they get drawn over and over and over again?!? Lucky devils!

The wildflowers were spectacular. Desert weather has been a little friendlier to cyclists than what we've been getting in the Denver Metro. Words cannot describe the sensation of going from triple layers Friday to short sleeves, shorts, sunscreen, sunburn and a bucket of sweat Sunday. Then back to multiple layers routine Monday.

We had planned a multi-day trip to Moab to do some heavy duty riding, but plans changed at the last minute. Third consecutive year. Drats. So I arranged to take some extra time off work Monday to reel in a few extra miles. I've got only four weeks left to get used to long, long days in the saddle.

My goal for Monday was 70 or 80 miles, whatever I could eek out. The forecast, of course, called for thunderstorms and 40 mph winds in the afternoon. I decided to reign in as many miles as possible in the morning, just in case the afternoon ride got derailed.

As I prepared to leave home, I informed The Lizard I would not be taking my camera this time. Not only to lighten the load, but also because I had not been using it. Friday's spill left me a bit nervous about wrecking again and injuring the camera. I decided the Nikon could take a day off. Just this once.

The Lizard told me the camera gods would understand. "Yeah, right," I replied. "The 'camera gods' will throw every form of wildlife known to man at me for leaving the camera at home." And that they did.

Curious deer on the bike path along the greenway. Elk near the lake. Cormorants in the sunrise. Baby geese closer to Downtown. Yikes!!! A skunk!!! Whew! Just a black and white kitty. Run, kitty, run! No less than 11 not-shy great blue herons near a sudsy spillway north of Downtown. They posed for me. And laughed. They thought my lack of camera was hilarious. A couple even flapped their wings and danced to display their amusement.

The sudsy spillway reminded me of my adopted daughter's first ride along this very same path. She would NOT cross the bridge. The 8- or 9-year-old was terrified of it, and we had no clue why. Finally, I convinced my then 12-year-old adopted son to portage all three of our bikes across the bridge while I carried my daughter across. She screamed bloody murder the entire way, but she was never afraid of the bridge again after that. In fact, she spent a few years fantasizing about living beneath a bridge with a Rottweiler to bring her food. But that's another story. For another day. Another year. Maybe another decade.

During a school assignment several years later, she wrote about being afraid to cross that bridge. She thought the suds in the water were acid. (Both my kids did a little too much "Dante's Peak" in the '90s.) She wrote that the bridge collapsed as we were crossing it, and we were being sucked into the acid. Then a dog came along and pulled us out of the water, one by one. She and the dog lived happily ever after.

That momentary step back into time was accented by a new bridge a little further along on the trail. Back then, we had to take a two-block jog through a heavily industrial area to get back onto the bike path. I was always nervous about taking my kids across that section of road, even for such a short distance.

Now it's done. The bike path goes all the way through. No cyclist has to brave the wrinkled road and huge trucks for that short little segment anymore.

I logged 53 morning miles, expecting to have to load the bike onto the train in the afternoon and be picked up by The Lizard.

However, the winds never reached gale force, and the thunderclouds didn't materialize. The 20 mph shifting breeze didn't make the ride home easy, but it did keep the bugs down. Thankfully!

As I neared home, I realized I'd topped 80 miles only twice before. I did my first and only century to date the day I had to, 108 miles on Day 4 of the 2003 Ride the Rockies. I did 88 miles on May 24 that year while training. Never again have I been able to go more than 80 miles. Until Monday.

I was so excited, I rushed home to grab the camera, then rode back out to get a picture by one of the pink trees down the street. By the time I got back to my front door, I'd logged 82 miles. And heck! It wasn't dark yet!!!

Insert "Theme Song from Rocky" here. Because that's what I'm feeling right now!

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