Better Than Expected

The death march was much better than expected. I met Pinkerton at Confluence Park and the first words out of his mouth after "good morning" were "I propose a route change". I said, "No" since only I have the power to hijack an early season group ride and only do so when the ride will be too easy/a waste of training time. I heard his concerns about temperature and expressed a few of my own about wind speed, but stuck to a firm policy of let's get to the top of Lookout and reevaluate if necessary.

We made it to Golden on time to meet up with Hutchison, Kendall, Rob, Megan and their friends. There was a random (his name was Joe) that joined us in the parking lot, in for the day from Vail, looking for a 3 hour ride. We drank some coffee, ooohhed and aaahhed over Hutchison's new bike, marveled at the temperature and set off.

The first decision of the day was made by Pinkerton and that was to hit the front side of Lookout. We kept a nice mellow pace for most of it, keeping together until Saddle Gap, but regrouping at the top. When we got to I-70, the second decision making spot, I decided it was looking perfectly nice to continue with the route as planned. It was neither windy no cold. The only real complaint was that we were all overdressed for a balmy March 1 ride.

All together as we start up Lookout.

Pinkerton is all smiles here.

Megan and Amanda show a little March 1 leg and strip down to temperature appropriate levels.

No where to go but west . . .

You don't know how lucky you are that we passed you early in the ride.

After a brief stop in Evergreen/Bergen Park to take on some food and water, we continued on to Squaw Pass. The group was splitting up in the wind so I checked in with all to see what their thoughts were as waiting at the top of the pass sounded like a cold, bad idea. By the time we got half way up the pass, I felt sorry for those turning around at the top because the south side of the road was mostly in shadows and still covered in slush, ice and some water of questionable content.

Oooooooooooohh, aaaaaaaaaaahh.

Our ride to the top was pleasant for the most part, nobody really trying to put the hurt on anybody else, although I did pick up the pace every once in a while since I was climbing in the big ring as usual and wanted my cadence to be a little higher. It afforded me a few opportunities to take a couple pictures here and there. Everybody was climbing pretty well, even Pinkerton who claims to be "fat and out of shape" and "not a climber". It did get a hair colder up top and the wind was mildly unpleasant in the exposed areas, enough so to have to put on the gloves and get down the hill. The descent to Idaho Springs was in much better shape than the Evergreen side. We only hit a couple spots where we had to avoid slush. In town the sun was still shining and the bank thermometer display showed a temperature of 63 in the sun.

Hutchison on the attack . . .

We stopped at the Safeway for some food, water, cookie samples at the deli, some sort of slim jim like product for Pinkerton (notice it was not lumped in with "food") and enjoyed our snacks sitting in the sunshine of the parking lot, ironically enough setting up camp adjacent to the handicap parking spot.

Pinkerton responds with an attack of his own.

Pinkerton and Kendall decided to call it a day and head back to Golden via Floyd Hill. I didn't envy them, knowing the bike path from Idaho Springs to the frontage road would require hiking through snow and knowing that I have hit 60 mph descending Floyd Hill without really pedaling. Not like Hutchison and I had an easy end to the day either.

Climbing up the casino road towards Blackhawk and Central City was quite pleasant. In the sun, with an occasional tail wind, shorts and a jersey would have been sufficient. The new "parkway" makes for a really nice ride. There is very little traffic, the views are great, and the climb is broken up a little bit with a few downhills and some rollers towards the top. We made the mistake of not getting our gambling in at the smaller casinos right off the road in Central City as everything in Blackhawk was out of our way. We got a couple pictures with the natives and continued on our way to Golden Gate Canyon via Peak to Peak Highway.

Giving new definition to high rollers.

Just for proof.

If you look closely you can see the remainders of mining history in the hills.

Knowing you only have a couple climbs left at the end of a long day doesn't make them any easier on the legs. I tried to find a steady rhythm that kept my legs at the bottom end of the dull ache range, not really knowing what eight miles until the turn at Golden Gate Canyon Road implied. We made it to the turn and put all clothing back on in anticipation of a chilly descent. The canyon was probably the coldest spot of the day, with the a few warm spots that were about as comforting as the random warm spots in a public swimming pool.

Daylight slowly fading as we say goodbye to Peak to Peak Highway.

Always a good sign for the most part.

There are two shortish climbs between Peak to Peak and Golden. The longer of the two is steep at the top and hurts for good reason. The shorter one is a mere obstacle, an annoyance, insult added to injury, lemon juice in the paper cut of fatigue, I think you get the point. We made it over both, descended with added caution due to the motorcyclists who didn't know how to ride, and breathed a sigh of relief once back at the car.

The road really does disappear quickly after cresting this hill.

Uh, given that Hutchison needed to stop at my house anyways to pick up some tires, I had a perfectly valid excuse to skip the 20 miles from Golden back to my house. At 6.5 hours, 105 miles, over 8000' of climbing, I figured I got in enough for the day.

As I sit in the cozy relative warmth of my house, looking out the window at teh snow blowing sideways, I know I made the right choice to blow it out on a big, epic ride, making use of the 70 degree (in areas) March day. Today I get to spin the legs out so I don't feel like total garbage tomorrow and this week looks to be a good one for recovery.

To aid recovery Hutchison, Deb and I headed out for some sushi. The thought of grilling was quashed by the growing wind and the sheer effort involved with going to the store to buy food. Sushi Den had an hour wait already at 6:30 so we crossed the street and went to Izakaya Den where there was no wait and ample opportunity to mock the masses that make up a subspecies of urban dwellers in Denver. That will be a post of its own, but here's a taste . . .


This guy takes the untucked, striped shirt to a new low. I award you no points and may god have mercy on your soul (and closet).