Rocky Mountain High - DBC bike tour does Colorado

Clockwise and clockwork describe the direction and demeanor of this tour, so perfectly planned that participants, mostly sixty-somethings, managed to climb three major passes above 11,000 feet, where the air is as rare as ahi tuna.  And who were the lucky ten? Leaders Bruce and Marilyn of course; a couple of “B” couples- longtime DBC members Bill and Linda Bernheim and Dick and Carol Bourne, plus Davisite Kathy Stewart, and Sacramentans Nancy Knofler and Doug and Marsha Arnold (who proved themselves to be the “A” team in more than just alphabetical order).  Marsha, Kathy, and Nancy, the babes of the group, can legitimately deny sixty-hood, thus balancing the advancing agelessness of our intrepid leaders. 

Why was clockwise important?  Because otherwise we would have faced three multi-mile high passes way too soon.  Instead, we gasped as gradually as possible: overnight train to Glenwood Springs at 5763’ (quite a precise elevation for this hilly town), several nights to acclimate before riding to Edwards at 7226’ (enough altitudinal precision; from here we’ll round to the nearest 100’), then over Vail Pass at 10,600 to Frisco (3 nights at 9100’), then over Fremont Pass at 11,300 to Leadville at 10,200.  Leadville was our overnight staging spot for the climb up Independence Pass at 12,100’, preceding our plunge down to two nights in Aspen at 7900’, then, way too soon, our easy “mountain coast” back to Glenwood Springs.

Bruce and Marilyn missed the train but arrived first; they vanned a week ahead with crucial gear, scouted, and provided their sag-ready Toyota Sienna for Bob and Pat.  For the rest of us, the California Zephyr ride was spectacular and relatively uneventful.  Bike loading was a joy! Remove the handlebars and pedals, roll into a huge box, and seal with Amtrak gift-tape. The first team-wide worry was that the Arnolds didn’t arrive to claim and fill their boxes in Davis.  Somewhere in Nevada we discovered this friendly couple that had intelligently boarded nearer home in Sacramento.  Most of us enjoyed views from the lounge car, a late dining car dinner, and at least a few hours of curled-up sleep before the morning ride into Colorado and an on-time arrival in Glenwood Springs.

Convenience continued as we bivouacked at the Hotel Denver, right across from the train station, itself right across the river from the famed Hotel Colorado and Glenwood Hot Springs.  After a day and a half exploring town by foot and pedal, watching rafters on the swift Colorado, soaking in the 1000’ long hot springs pool, and storing climb-ready calories from a bevy of close-by restaurants, we stashed unnecessary belongings at the hotel and headed east.  We had ridden the Colorado River bike trail to its landslide closure the day before, so on departure morning we were sagged in three groups past the closure point.  

Despite weather.com’s prediction of daily thundershowers, we rolled eastward under sunny skies, surrounded by towering peaks rimmed with an occasional puffy cloud.  We soon left the roaring Colorado to follow the Eagle eastward toward Vail.  The quaint town of Eagle offered a morning rest for Group 1 and a lunch stop for others, on this landslide-shortened first day of our loop.  Edwards, our destination, adjoins upscale Beaver Creek, and our accommodations at the Inn at Riverwalk felt comparably upscale.  We enjoyed the pool, a group dinner, and optional river walk with stunning sunset.

Tour Day Two included our first pass, so we stoked up with the Inn’s buffet breakfast and headed out toward Vail Village, where we enjoyed the Swiss chalet atmosphere and stoked some more at a riverside café.  Here Carol downed a “java jolt” in anxious preparation.  And then the climb!  Mostly it was in bright sun, until we veered downward on a bikepath crossing under I-70.  Soon a short very steep grade challenged legs and lungs, but after a long steady haul we all made it to Vail Pass, where Pat and Bob offered kudos and caloric rewards.  Our celebrations were limited by the lack of a “summit sign” but at least we were saved the effort of hoisting our vehicles overhead.  The long downhill into Frisco was a joy, first on a steep twisting path surrounded by wildflowers, and then on a more gentle and direct, rushing-creekside path from Copper Mountain to Frisco.  We arrived at the Hotel Frisco on Main St. ready for R&R.  But would Carol sleep after her java jolt?

Happy Colorado cycling tourists.

Yes, she slept, as exercise conquered caffeine.  Our two weekend days around Frisco were semi-organized.  On Saturday, after our first of three energizing “compris” breakfasts at the Log Cabin, most folks rode to Breckenridge and back, while others rode the path around Dillon Lake and up past Keystone toward Montezuma. On Sunday we were joined by several members of Summit Biking for a ride around Dillon Lake, as a result of  advance contact with Randy and Lucy Glover of Frisco, acquaintances of the Deweys.  (“Arnie and gang,” who accompanied most of our group around the lake, had ridden through Davis a few years back and been hosted and fested by the DBC.)  After the morning ride came more in-Frisco exploring and the “rest of the day.”  Thundershowers punctuated both weekend afternoons, reinforcing our “ride-in-the-morning” rationale.  On the last night a major contingent felt well-enough rested to dine at the Blue Spruce Inn and join the dancing and singing at the "Doowop Denny Rocking Oldies Show.” 

The fifth day’s ride to Leadville was lead by Arnie and gang, headed for their weekly luncheon gathering at Turquoise Lake near Leadville.  Bruce later noted that his pace had been pushed by this jaunt with his fellow youngish oldsters.  Each climbing at his/her own rate, we spread out but all made the summit where Bob and Pat again rewarded us, and this time the summit sign prompted the heisting of geared steeds for a perfunctory photo.  The seemingly endless descent to Pb-ville was a joy; we cruised to the antique-laden Delaware Hotel on Main St., which felt relatively original since its opening day in 1886.  The technicians among us managed to pack all 10 bicycles into an outdoor ski locker the size of a London phone booth, thanks to a combination of spatial thinking and bungie cords.  Though the steep stairs were a challenge, our upper-floor rooms with large windows offered fine views of town and the surrounding peaks.   After a delicious lunch at the historic Golden Burro Cafe   came now-customary afternoon showers (personal and atmospheric) and R&R followed by a Mexican dinner.  To keep us awake, Bruce coached us on the next day’s ride- a long early descent and then the huge climb over Independence Pass.

On Tuesday, our longest day, the predicted thundershowers and rain at the summit compelled an 8 AM departure, and the cool high-altitude weather caused some of us to finally start the day in tights and added upper layers.  The descent and initial climb were in glorious sunshine to Twin Lakes, where Pat and Bob awaited with a feast of bananas, PBJ crackers, Oreos, and fig newtons.  Then, depending on whose legs and lungs, came the 2-3 hour, 16 mile climb.  Here our precipitous luck ran out; rain began 3-4 miles from the top, and the colder air had us adding layers either near the end of the climb or at the summit.  From the crest we looked down at where we had been, with considerable awe; we were “at the top of our game”.  The descent was awesome too, though the upper miles were too wet and cold for comfort, prompting Doug’s comment that “it was definitely a white knuckle descent…” By the end, though, we were down to jerseys and riding shorts, thoroughly enjoying the renewed sunshine, raging creek, virulent wildflowers, and narrow canyon road.  Bruce led us into Aspen for our two nights at the in-town Mountain House B&B, whose spa soon overflowed with grateful, sated cycle-bodies.

In Leadville Bill and Linda, who held reservations on the Thursday train home, learned that the Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday westbound trains were cancelled.  With their next vacation looming, departure was crucial, so they decided to rent a car and drive home from Aspen after only one night in this classy resort town.  Bruce had planned a group dinner at the Ajax restaurant (reputed to be one of Lance Armstrong’s favorites) for the second Aspen night, but he kindly advanced the group dinner to Tuesday night so Bill and Linda could be included.  We all enjoyed this fine dinner with the Dewey’s grandson Chris, who works for the resort company that owns the Ajax. 

The next morning we helped “carefully” cram bikes into the trunk of the Bernheims’ rental car, and bade them farewell before our round-trip ride (Chris included) to Maroon Bells.  This was another long steady climb, but on a small road with very few cars.  The scenery was fantastic, and at the top we appreciated the name; a small lake was rimmed with purplish peaks, in formations resembling bells; as we strolled by the lake and its incoming gurgling stream, we could virtually hear them ringing.  Doug, Marsha, and Kathy continued the stroll up along continuous waterfalls, while most of us, under inclement skies, headed downhill toward sunshine and lunch.  (Marsha later commented “My legs have finally recovered- not from the rides, but from Kathy's choice of hiking trails!!”)  An unidentifiable duck-like maroon bird, probably extinct, watched stoically at road’s edge as we coasted past.  Another fantastic downhill; did we really climb this far? Back in Aspen, we enjoyed a City Market deli lunch (what a meatloaf sandwich!) with Chris.  The afternoon afforded some of us time to walk more of Aspen, including the shops and John Denver sanctuary; and to enjoy the bubbling spa, again nearly full to overflowing.  We spread out for dinner, but not too far; rain was in the air, and Mountain House umbrellas were again much appreciated.

Thursday dawned sunny but bittersweet, our last scheduled riding day, and almost all downhill. After an early climb that treated us to an overlook of Aspen’s unique airport (planes take off and land in opposite directions to avoid the mountain at one end), we descended to Woody Creek Tavern, a funky spot where Bruce and Marilyn had dined the night before.  Then we cruised the gentle downhill to Carbondale for lunch.  Carol and Kathy decided to explore this historic town before continuing the 13 mile descent to Glenwood Springs.  We were all back at the Hotel Denver by 4 PM, and some headed directly to the train station to box up bikes for the trip home.  Knowing the next day’s train would be hours late, Carol and Dick kept bikes in service for a morning ride.  All of us but Nancy (who kept her rigorous yoga schedule) dined with Bruce and Marilyn at the Italian Underground, whose popularity we soon understood.

Bruce and Marilyn departed Friday morning as Dick and Carol took a nostalgic last ride up the Colorado River bike trail.  So, it was all over but the train ride- but when would it leave?   We checked out by noon, but continued to congest and enjoy the lobby of the Hotel Denver until the train finally pulled in at 8 PM.   It was a laid-back day, including, for most of us, a wonderful outdoor lunch at the Hotel Colorado; for four of us, a shady game of miniature golf at Glenwood Hot Springs (with a few rain showers, of course); and for six of us, a picnic dinner on the lawn at the train station.   The train chugged in and out at dusk, six hours late, and we were “All Aboard!”  Linda Bernheim noted later that she wished Bruce and Marilyn ran Amtrak.

We have so much to appreciate after this outing: first, the fine organization, support, and trip management of Bruce, Marilyn, Bob, and Pat; second, the incredible scenery of Colorado; and third, more philosophically, our amazing infrastructure that makes this kind of tour possible.  We could not do this without the relatively smooth pavement for mile after mile in places we want to go; the communication systems that make advanced planning so possible; and our highly-developed bicycle components including: lightweight wheels and tires that reliably and safely roll for seemingly endless miles; strong through fragile-looking frames that connect us to those wheels with cushioning flexibility and appropriate rigidity; variable chain drives that allow us to slowly scale the heights or speed the flats and downhills; and brakes that facilitate speed control in twisty downhill or high traffic conditions.  This trip would not have been as free, fast, or exhilarating on horseback, and would Amtrak transport a horse for $5, with or without a box?