Back in the Virtual Saddle

The Triple Bypass was a few weeks ago. The Leadville 100 was the weekend before last. Lizard has enjoyed watching some of the videos riders have posted, as well as live feeds when he can get them. When you give a YouTube video a thumb's up, YouTube throws more videos at you it assumes you want.

We continually block old LA videos without watching them. But we've been seriously and addictively enjoying Coors Classics videos from the 80s. Lizard says he was interested each time the pro cycling race made a stop in his hometown of Grand Junction, but he didn't really follow any races back then other than the Tour de France, which wasn't easily available in any streaming form back then.

I'd heard of Greg LeMond as a teen; he was my brothers' hero. The champion US cyclist was developing quite the following even in southern New Mexico, where I lived (and cycled) back then. I didn't know back then there were bike races other than the Tour, though. Watching those old videos now, both Lizard and I experienced a pang of guilt for the feelings LA provoked in us toward LeMond through LA's attempt to deflect accusations and fraud. Before that, both of us admired LeMond. I even sought one of his bikes for more than a year after my first Ride the Rockies because I got to test ride one, and I LOVED it.

I never did find my Tourmalet, and we never got to meet LeMond, but it sure is fun watching him battle Bernard Hinault in the Coors Classic.

I didn't know about Davis Phinney until Lizard and I met him and his wife Connie Carpenter at Ride the Rockies. The retired pro and Olympic cyclist and his Olympic cyclist (and speed skater!!!) wife weren't riding by then. (But their son Tayler was!) Davis was our first introduction to Parkinson's. We had no idea back then the role Parkison's or Davis would take in our lives a decade later. Words cannot explain how it felt to watch a much younger Davis in those old videos pump his fists into the air as he crossed finish lines. Joy for what he felt then; grief for what he experiences now; sadness for what I've watched Lizard lose over the past eight years. And yet, seeing him whole and experiencing tremendous joy.

Ron Kiefel was a speaker at Ride the Rockies, too. The retired pro and Olympic Cyclist also sold me my first non-department store bike after my first Ride the Rockies (and after I couldn't find a LeMond Tourmalet anywhere). He also would present cycling workshops to help wannabes like me prepare for Ride the Rockies. I learned SO much from him that helped me power through seven Ride the Rockies. I enjoyed watching him win stages in the old Coors Classic videos.

News of women's cycling rarely ever makes headlines. Back in the 80s, the Coors Classic included a women's race, and the old films include highlights. (Connie Carpenter won it three times!) Lizard had ridden up Pikes Peak in the company of Jeannie Longo, whom I hadn't heard of when we cycled up the 14er in the short-lived organized ride. Watching Jeannie Longo win back-to-back Coors Classics really helped me appreciate Lizard being able to keep her pace riding up a long, stiff climb decades later.

The old videos make me wish we could step back in time to our cycling days, when Lizard and I would ride Colorado Monument (known as Tour of the Moon during the Coors Classic) together and watch the USA Pro Cycling Challenge, Colorado Trail Race or Leadville 100 in person. When we could climb 14ers in July and then get a hotel room so we could watch the Tour de France (because we didn't have a TV (by choice) at home back then). Oh, and enjoy big, fat customized smothered burritos at the Blue Iguana, which is gone now. When we would ride Vail Pass over the pro cyclist names still visible on the pavement. When I would photograph Lizard participating all along the Triple Bypass or the Double Triple route, his favorite rides.

Even a ride up Waterton Canyon now would be such a thrill! I haven't given up hope. I've got Lizard back in PT with the goal of trying to get him back on his bike. Our glory days may not be the same as two decades ago, but just like the Coors Classic, good rides never lose their magic. Even if they can only be watched instead of pedaled.

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Almost Wordless Wednesday

Spectacular music: "We Will Rock You" written by Queen's Brian May, featured on the 2012 David Garrett CD "Music." (I enjoy David Garrett's music so much, I didn't wait for this CD to become available in the US; I purchased an imported CD just a few days after release!)

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Triple Bypass

2:45 a.m. => The clock taunts me with its red glow. It's supposed to glow a happy 3:30. Drats, insomnia and I have managed an hour of robust sleep for the evening. Sheeeesh, there's a great way to begin a 120-mile ride that will gain more than 10,000 feet of elevation by the 90-mile mark. Enter wailing violins – eeck, eeck, eeck! Life's a bear at times. Get up and get moving!

4:30 a.m. => We arrive at Bergen Park, and immediately Snowcatcher is busy with the camera. How she shoots in the dark amazes me. I start gearing up. At 8,500 feet it's actually quite warm and humid; arm warmers will suffice.

5:00 a.m. => I click into my pedals, and the day's first steep climb to 11,140 feet over 16 miles begins. My legs have awoken, sphincter has found its happy place in the saddle, and it feels good to roll into the wet, eerie and shadowed forest of early dawn. Will I make it to Avon? Will my bike break? Is it my day to exit this life? These thoughts filter through my mind until straining legs and deep, managed breathing take precedence.

6:43 a.m. => Yay! Juniper Pass! The day's least enjoyable climb is over. Two more – actually three – to go!

6:45 a.m. => Give or take a few minutes. Water stop Number One rolls into view. This is a quick stop for me to garner a jacket, skull cap (for warm ears and wet head), full-fingered gloves and some food. I'm soaked in sweat and quickly change before becoming chilled. I now have a very fast, very rough, chilly and shadowed descent into the hamlet of Idaho Springs, the lowest elevation of the day at ~7,500 feet. Warm clothes – check. Filled water bottles – check. Banana and muffin – check. Afterburners on, and we jet into the abyss.

7:31 a.m. => Snowcatcher greets me in Idaho Springs and takes my wet clothes off my hands. The long grind up the Clear Creek drainage toward Loveland Pass and the Continental Divide begins. Loveland Pass also is the halfway point.

8:36 a.m. =>Do pray tell, just above Georgetown at the 8,800-foot level, I find myself surrounded by Dave Wiens, Susan De Mattei and their entourage. Dave Wiens is a former pro mountain biker and Mountain Bike Hall of Famer. He won the Leadville 100 a record six consecutive times, including 2007 and 2008, when he aced out disgraced Tour de France veterans Floyd Landis and Lance Armstrong. David's wife Susan is a former pro mountain biker and Hall of Famer. She also holds an Olympic bronze medal in mountain biking from the 1996 Olympics. When I realized I was amongst royalty, I shot forward and told Snowcatcher, who was parked at this access point, to be on the paparazzi lookout for the super stars.

10:20 a.m. =>After a long grind, I'm above treeline on the summit of 11,992-foot Loveland Pass. I'm also on the Continental Divide, meaning water flowing toward the east reaches the Atlantic Ocean, and water flowing off the west side journeys to the Pacific. I'm also above Loveland Basin Ski area, where I first took to snowy slopes an eternity ago in 1968. Weather is building, but not too bad yet.

11:57 a.m. =>The descent from Loveland Pass was beautimous!! Following a short and steep climb to Swan Mountain's 9,500 foot west shoulder, followed by a water break at the Breckenridge high school, I meet up with Snowcatcher along the Frisco bike path, where my beautiful wife loads on moral support. At this point, I'm at 9,100 feet, 80 some miles into the ride and feeling fairly good. Tired and wooden legs are weathering the challenge, not cramping or seizing up in any manner. One more climb, and a beautiful one at that.

1:03 p.m. =>I reach the summit of 10,660-foot Vail Pass. As usual, Snowcatcher enlivens my being with energy. So far, I've been on the road for eight hours, skimming along the top of the earth and toying with gravity for 93 miles. I have 27 easy miles left. The ride up West Tenmile Creek went well. Albeit, I didn't realize the guy on my tail was Wiens. At the top the former pro gave me a complement: "Nice work!" This 52-year-old felt rather proud as a result.

Most mountain areas west of the Continental Divide are biologically more complex and lush than their eastern kin. The Tenmile Range and ragged southern Gore Range merge here, and there is ample precipitation. The area is sumptuous, magical and very green, showing off a tapestry of colorful flowers. The pull up to Vail Pass is a "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds" type of climb – I never tire of it.

2:22 p.m. =>Amen brothers and sisters! I'm relishing in all the cowbells at the finish. It's time to eat!


Some stats:

Trip time (bike in motion): 8 hours 34 minutes
Total trip time: 9 hours 22 minutes
Trip distance: 120 miles
Amount of climbing: 10,310 feet

This was my 5th Triple Bypass.
This was my slowest westward time.
This was my 2nd Double Triple Bypass (backtrack the following day back to Bergen Park.)
This was my 1st Double Triple Bypass to throw in the towel before reaching Bergen Park.

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Wordless Wednesday

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