Old Tires

I was changing a bicycle tire today and it got me thinking about all the miles and rides that tire and I have been through together. We traveled in several states seeing 11,000 ft. passes in Colorado and vast ocean along the Pacific coast. We’ve seen old army bases, ski resorts, mines, towns, rivers, cities, meadows, farms, sand dunes, sagebrush and forest. We’ve seen a lot, this tire and I.

We met a while back when I was getting my bike ready for an organized ride called The Copper Triangle. I wanted (needed really) some new tires for this ride and decided on a little heaver duty tire thinking it would be good to have on this ride and maybe they would last a few more miles than what I had been using. In any event, they were installed and ready for the day of the “big ride”.

The Copper Triangle (http://coppertriangle.com) is a ride that wanders over three mountain passes in Colorado. Along the way you see several of the highest peaks in the state, a town that is two miles high, a mine that seems to have eaten away half a mountain, a world famous ski town, a ghost town or two and miles and miles of beautiful scenery. But that doesn’t really do justice in describing the grandeur and emotion you see and feel along the Copper Triangle.

You see, this ride was all about emotion for me. I’d wanted to do this ride for years and for assorted reasons was never able to do it. Years in the wanting, in other words. This is a ride that isn’t easy. In fact, the hardest part of the ride is the last part. The part that starts after you’ve already ridden over 60 miles. Finally, I wanted to ride this ride with my friends. Experience the highs and lows of the ride together. I was able to do this and so much more.

Conquering that first pass, Fremont Pass, was the first high of the ride. I wasn’t even sure I’d make it as it looked long and steep but I did! Wow, what a high! It was a head down, grind that ended up not being as hard as I had thought. At the top of the pass was a rest stop with lots of food and drink and port-a-potties. There were several more of these “aid/rest stations” along the way, each supported by folks that were friendly, helpful and encouraging! After that first stop, it was all downhill into Leadville. The only excitement was a rider next to me that developed a horrible head-shake (violent front wheel vibration) at the start of the steepest part of the downhill. Luckily, he was able to get stopped without hitting anyone or crashing.

The highlight of the roll into Leadville was Mt. Massive and Mt. Elbert coming into view. These are the two highest mountains in the state and to be able to see them on a bicycle, on a crisp clear summer morning just as the sun kisses their high summits, is something truly special. I still fell the touch of it on my soul.

After Leadville, we started a gradual climb up to Tennessee Pass. I had followed my friend (we’ll call him Tom) up Fremont Pass and then he got way ahead of me on the way down Fremont Pass. I caught up with him in Leadville so we were together again when we decided to stop on the side of the road, with lots of other riders, and start pealing off some layers. The early morning chill was finally starting to burn off although it is never really warm that early at over 10,000ft.

Tennessee Pass was more of a small hill than anything else (still over 10,000 ft). The steepest part of the climb was actually the little side road, at the top of the pass, that went up to the aid station.

This aid station was packed with riders! There were probably 15 – 20 port-a-potties with as many tables for food and drink all filled with mingling riders and staff talking, trading war stories and taking a break. It was so full that it took us a while to find our bikes again amid the growing sea of riders and their bikes.

It was back to down hill again after the aid station. Not so steep this time but filled with history. You see, you get to pass by Camp Hale (http://www.leadvilletwinlakes.com/camp_hale) which was the training base for the 10th Mountain Division during WWII. After the war, a lot of the veterans that trained here, came back to the area and jump started the ski industry that we have today in Colorado. Now all that’s left at Camp Hale are some deserted roads and a few concrete pads along with part of the gate and some signs telling about the history of the place. Well worth a stop!

After more down hill we crossed over a beautiful arched bridge that goes over the Eagle River near the town of Red Cliff. From this point we started the climb up Battle Mountain. This is a short (mile or so) climb that is steep and on a narrow winding road with a cliff up on one side and a cliff down on the other. You always think the next corner is the top and you’re always wrong. The ghost town of Gilman is on this section of road. The town was built on the edge of the cliff and I often wonder if anyone fell off the side while wandering around at night. The mine was open until the early 1980s so this is a very recent ghost town. Here is a site with some photos of the town: https://kcphoto.smugmug.com/Abandoned/Gilman-CO/

The climb up Battle Mountain offered one of the more memorable encounters on the ride. Tom and I were climbing our way up the road, he in the lead and me close by. Two ladies were riding just behind us and started talking about how nice Tom’s bike was. He was riding a “vintage” (meaning older than 5 – 10 years but not as old as he is) purple Klien bike. If you have ever seen a Klien and their paint jobs, you will know why the ladies were expressing favorable comments Tom’s way, well Tom’s bike’s way. They always did stunning paint on their bikes. Anyway, they yelled out how nice his bike looked, etc., etc. and then, as an after thought, since I was just behind him, they told me “oh, your bike looks good too”. Of course this caused a laugh on everyone’s part and I had to kid Tom the rest of the ride about it. Truth be told, a number of folks commented on how nice his bike was during the ride.

We finally crested Battle Mountain and headed down to Minturn where the next aid station was. The station was along the river and over flowing with riders. We had now dropped over 2000 ft. in altitude and had just about reached the low point, altitude wise, of the ride. It was really starting to warm up because of this. We relaxed here for a bit as we would be starting the uphill climb that would eventually lead us to the top of Vail Pass. First though was the town of Vail.

Vail, you may not think of a ski town this way, but it was hot, crowded, noisy and full of traffic. Of course this is in comparison to what we had just ridden through so take that description with a grain of salt.

The heat was real though. It was getting close to midday and Vail sits in a valley that seems to intensify the sun. The route was along a frontage road with I70 on the left and Vail on the right. I think it may have been the pavement and little wind mixed with a constant, steady uphill that really made this ten mile section the toughest section of the entire ride. Not the hardest, but the toughest. The legs and the body were starting to get a little fatigued at this point in the ride.

As we road farther east, the road started to get steeper. We had to ride under the highway and then ride under it again. The main part of town began to give away and we started to see more green. One last steep section and we went under the highway one last time. We were now on the old Vail pass road that had been turned into a bicycle path, headed up a crazy steep short section of the path to a much needed aid / rest stop. Vail was done. Vail pass was ahead.

We had climbed from a low of 7700ft in Minturn and were now at 8300ft. We had 2300 feet of elevation left to gain and 10 or so miles to gain it in. If we made it there, we had 4 miles of downhill to the finish. But first, time to rest and refresh. After all, we already had 65 miles and over 3000ft of climbing under our belts.

They had energy bars, bananas, nuts, fruit, energy drinks and more at this stop. We fueled as much as we could, did a bathroom break and rested our legs a bit. It was a steep climb to leave this stop so we contemplated it for a bit, so to speak.

There are all shapes, sizes and ages of riders that do this ride each year We talked to some of them, passed some of them and were passed by some of them. We saw a ton of interesting and cool bikes. A recumbent tandem may have been one of the most interesting bikes we saw. All in all, everyone was having a blast!

Enough rest and back on the bikes for that final climb! We were starting to worry a bit about the weather as dark clouds were starting to appear. Thunderstorms, mountains and bicycles don’t mix very well. We crossed out fingers and pressed on.

I’ll have to say that this section of the climb started to get the best of me. I was having to stop every so often to give my legs a rest. Tom, obviously, started to leave me behind now. He had warned me about a crazy steep section up ahead which had me worried as I felt I’d already ridden a few of those! I just put my head down and pushed the pedals. I finally caught up with Tom as he was resting and waiting for me on the side of the path.

The crazy steep section fools you. You’ve just climbed several miles with no breaks and you reach a nice little downhill that goes under the highway. This is all well and good until you see several volunteers standing by the path in front of you cheering you on and saying you can do it. What they are saying you can do is around a sharp left turn where the path goes basically straight up for about 200ft. I was able to ride part of it but had to walk the rest. Back on the bike with more incessant climbing.

Uh oh, leg cramps. Quads. Got the right one worked out. Damn, now the left is giving me fits. Get your foot out of you pedal! Don’t fall down the hill! Wow it is beautiful here. Ouch! there goes a cramp in the right quad again! Another crazy steep short section and now woods. Will this hill ever end? I think it is starting to flatten out a bit. Yes, yes it is. The cramps are getting less and I can actually pedal again. Wow those are beautiful lakes. What’s that I hear? Is that the top? Did I make it?

A lot of the volunteers and folks watching the ride had been given these little white “cow bells” for lack of a better term. They had rung them at key points along the ride and they were ringing them like crazy at the top of the pass. Ringing and cheering. To this day, it brings tears to my eyes when I recall hearing those bells and those voices. The bells and that cheering renewed my energy and spirit! I loved the sound of those bells!

There was a rest stop at the top of the pass and I decided to stop there for a few minutes to stretch out my legs and get those cramps to finally go away. The rest stop was in a parking lot and at the end of the lot was the start of the bicycle trail that would lead us down to the end of the ride. Tom was waiting for me here and we started the last leg of our journey together.

We ended up getting separated by a couple of slow riders that got between us on this narrow, winding path. I didn’t see Tom again and completed the last couple of miles on my own finally riding into Copper Mountain Ski Resort where the ride had begun that morning. I rode across cobblestones and into the town square where there were more folks cheering and more ringing bells! My biggest fan, my wife, was there with her bell ringing and cheering loudly! It was great to see her and see her excitement for me and to know I had successfully completed one of the best rides of my life! I had finished a ride that had been a “goal ride” for me that I had wanted to do for many years and I look forward to doing it again!

That wasn’t the end of the journey for me and that tire, it was only the beginning. That beginning started the next week as I resumed my normal riding routine. This routine included many miles of rides in the hills and valleys around my house and longer rides with friends.

We, that tire and I, rode to places with names like Red Rocks and Upper Bear and Evergreen and Platte. We meandered along streams and lakes, pushed hard up hills and rested on down hills. We had a ball. Then of course, we moved.

We moved to the middle coast of California. Now we had all new places to discover. We explored some of the nooks and crannies along the coast. We saw rocky shorelines, beautiful white sand beaches. We saw high tides and smelled low tides. We felt the salt spray of thunderous swells and watched the spray of humpback whales. We road by green golf courses and knolls filled with purple wild flowers. We saw mighty redwood and cypress trees and we even saw parades of cars much older than I.

California isn’t only coast though. We ventured inland and discovered grassy hills, beautiful valleys, forests of oaks and natural settings you would swear were manicured parks. During the spring months we were treated to hills of wildflowers full of color and shady places filled with green grasses and poison oak. Lots of poison oak.

But, as with all things, that tire has started to tire. It has provided thousands of miles of adventure with nary a complaint. It has done its work faithfully and never failed. I’ll miss this old tire. We journeyed through life together, for a time, and had great travels and made great memories.

Rest well my friend, you’ve earned it…