Well … me.
When I first moved to Colorado, I was amazed to witness the things cyclists can make their bodies do here. Coming from a sea level community of rolling hills just outside New York City, I was not prepared for the concept of riding on big, steep mountains. They just looked impossible.
I lived in Denver for a couple months, where the riding is relatively high but flat, and really enjoyed it. When my family arrived, we lived for a few months in a cottage on the back side of Lookout Mountain, where we’d see these seeming gods whiz by on their bikes day after day. They would climb up the steep, daunting mountain from Golden, push through miles of relentless uphill, switchback after switchback, and make it to the top with what looked like little effort, then speed down the other side.
I thought their hearts must be the size of basketballs, their veins huge, their determination incredible, and their pain thresholds incredibly low. I could barely get my heavy aluminum Cannondale to the top from the relatively easy other side without succumbing to an asthma attack.
Then I learned about mountain passes. Colorado is full of them, paved roads to the top of high mountains. And many Colorado cyclists spend their free hours riding up them – on purpose. I couldn’t understand how it was physically possible! Independence Pass — 12,103 feet. Fremont Pass — 11,318 feet. Kenosha Pass — 10,001 feet. Vail Pass — 10,666 feet. Up. On two wheels. Pedaling. What were they, crazy? Superhuman?
Then my husband Bob, a rabid cyclist, caught the bug, upgraded the gears on his bike, and started spending spring and summer weekends attacking passes. My daughters and I were with him for his first, at the end of a Fraser vacation. We dropped him off in Tabernash, went out for lunch, then drove to the top of Berthoud Pass (11,315 feet), where he arrived a few minutes later, sweaty but triumphant. (He made a major miscalculation, though. In his desire to get up, he failed to realize that the best part of climbing a pass is then getting to whiz DOWN! He never made that mistake again.
For me, just getting three-quarter miles up the hill to our house in Kittredge was impossible. A trip to Velo Swap (veloswap.competitor.com/ ) a year and a half changed that, when I emerged with a used-but-awesome carbon fiber Specialized Ruby Elite with a triple chain ring and upgrades galore. A week later, I made it up the hill home by pedaling instead of pushing. Triumph!
First Pass
Last summer, we went camping at the top of Kenosha Pass, south of Bailey, and I tried to ride it – up and back from Como. Holy mother of God, despite 65-mile-an-hour traffic whizzing by and brisk headwinds, I made it to the top. Ecstasy! I had ridden to the top of a mountain pass!
Over Labor Day, we went camping at Turquoise Lake, outside of Leadville, where I tried to ride around the lake but found its steep hills still daunting. I did ride up most of Tennessee Pass, but the lure of the lake pulled me back to the campsite.
New Attitude
This year, however, something has changed in me and Bob’s encouragement has had a lot to do with it. I have attacked more and more difficult hills here in Evergreen – Witter Gulch, the loop from Alderfer/3 Sisters to Brook Forest Road. My confidence is increasing. Bob took me up Lookout Mountain a couple weeks back – and it wasn’t difficult On the 4th of July I rode to the top of Loveland Pass. Now, instead of surviving the final hill up to my house, I am attacking it.
This past Saturday, I spent the morning volunteering with the Evergreen Chorale group assisting riders on the Triple Bypass bike ride (www.teamevergreen.org/triple/). They were riding 120 miles, from Buchanan Park in Evergreen, over Squaw and Juniper Passes, then Loveland Pass, then Vail Pass, into Avon – and some were spending the night and riding back the next day. I helped last year and thought it was an unattainable goal for me. This year, something has shifted. As I watched riders go by – some of them lean and chiseled, but others flabby and big and heavy and, well, normal looking — a new thought crossed my mind: “Hey, maybe I could do this.
Uh oh
When my shift ended I rode halfway up the mountain from which they came toward Echo Lake, and it wasn’t difficult at all. I do believe I am acquiring Colorado cycling legs. Who knew it was possible?
Looking for a Pass?
If you’re looking for a pass, there are a couple of excellent websites that can help you out.
- Colorado Cycling Passes (www.cyclepass.com) is an informal, informative site created by a cyclist who just wants to share info.
- RobertBody.com (http://www.robertbody.com/learn/colorado-passes.html) lists passes by altitude and location, with photos.
- Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colorado_mountain_passes) has an extremely helpful page on Colorado passes, with info on whether they are paved or unpaved, as well as a list of high elevation Colorado highways not on a pass, such as the Mt. Evans Road.
See you on the roads!
