CTR - Living the High Life

The Beginning....

A couple of years ago, Chris Pesce, a friend of mine from Tennessee, had mentioned that it might be fun to race the Colorado trail.  I was kind of half listening but also thinking about my next xc race. I really had no idea what bikepacking was all about, so the thought of a multi-day bike race just kind of flew over my head. A little ember, however, was placed in the back of my head.

Fast forward to last December. I was driving down the road in my big truck when that little ember suddenly exploded. A few months previous, I had attempted the Trans North Georgia race and flamed out miserably. It was my first futile attempt at bikepack racing and it was a rude awakening. Now, driving down the road, I suddenly remembered my conversation with Chris a couple years before. 

The next few days, I did a ton of research, read a lot of blogs, and was in true awe of the magnitude of this event. It was nearly 500 miles in length, huge amounts of climbing over huge mountains, and crazy weather ranging from boiling hot to raging snow storms. But since I'm crazy and have no common sense, I decided it looked like fun and decided to train for it and then give it a go.

The drive out.....

hot and exposed

Since I'm terrified of flying, I decided to make the long drive from Tennessee. It was probably a good thing however, because it gave me time to think about what I was about to embark on.  I had also heard about some sweet trails out in western Kansas that I wanted to check out. The trails I wanted to ride were west of Salina about 40 or 50 miles. They are called the Wilson lake trail system and they consist of fantastically wide open riding meaning there are no trees anywhere to be found. Being from the east where trees are in abundance, this is a strange and new concept. The trails were a mix of rocky, technical, to screaming fast, buff singletrack. I rode for about 3 hrs until the 110 degree temps finally melted me into the ground. After an hot but amazing ride, I hopped back in the car and drove the final leg of the trip out to Colorado.

who would of thought in Kansas

When I was driving into Denver, I noticed some huge storms hanging out over the mountains where I would be riding in a couple of days. Oh, the butterflies were starting to flutter. I could only imagine what was going on up in those mountains.

The next day, I rode around a little at the trailhead then went back to the hotel and arranged and rearranged and rearranged and rearranged my gear until I was positive I had it the way I wanted it. I was just trying to figure out what was going to be a luxury and what was a necessity. All of the luxury items got tossed. It's hard to not pack that extra pair of socks or the coffee maker but staying light was a priority as long as I wasn't stupid about it. Then I went to bed and didn't sleep a wink. Oh well, that's bike racing I guess.

Day 1....

start of the CTR

After not sleeping a wink, I got up and drove to the trailhead. I was giddy like a 2 year old who had just eaten too much candy. At 6 am, I had my gear on my bike and was off on segment 1. The first few miles were nice, easy pedaling along the Platte river on a well maintained gravel road. Then the route turned off the road onto some of the buffest, smoothest, funnest trail i'd ever ridden. Somehow I knew things were about to change. I made it to the top of the first climb easily and then headed downhill towards Bear creek. Another climb then a screaming downhill to the Platte river. Segment one complete!

view from top of fist climb

burnout!

Segment 2 climbs up from the Platte into a monstrous burnout. I'd read horror stories about how hot it could be up there from the exposure and lack of trees but there was a fairly strong breeze so I stayed nice and cool.

Although cool, this section required a fair amount of work. 

After riding some amazing trail in segment 3, I got on the first detour of the day and headed down to Bailey for a refuel.

I knew there would be a gas station in Bailey from my research, but when I got there, the station was closed! Bummer! I was planning on stocking up for the long haul over to Copper Mtn but this was putting a kink in my plans. Being a one gas station town, there weren't too many other options. I noticed a little gift shop down the street so I rolled over to see if they had anything I might need. They had a few candy bars, not much, but it would have to do.

Looking across valley towards Georgia Pass

atop Georgia Pass after storm

After leaving Bailey, the route climbed up and over Kenosha Pass, across a beautiful valley on amazing trail, then the long, long climb up to Georgia Pass. Near the top of Georgia, I had my first encounter with an full, all-out lightning storm. Holy Crap! I thought I was toast right there. I just left the bike and ran as fast as I could back down to the relative safety below treeline. I was going to need to be a little more cautious from here on out. After the storm passed, I hiked back up to the bike and made quick work of Georgia before the next storm hit. On my way off Georgia pass, I came across a cooler stocked full of candy and sodas, This was actually a God send because of the closed gas station down in Bailey. I'm not real sure of the whole etiquette thing with having coolers full of snacks out in the middle of the wilderness, I don't think I really like it, but it saved me.


I finally made it to Breckenridge and Gold Hill trailhead around 10 pm totally trash. My plan was to make it over 10 mile range to Copper mountain the first day, but at the base of Ten Mile, I was seeing strange things and falling off my bike, so I decided to call it a day.

Day 2....

Looking up to top of Ten Mile

Day 2 started with a 3000 foot hike-a-bike to the top of Ten Mile Range. Now, I've done a lot of HAB in my day, but this monster has to take the cake. It just kept going up and up and then when I thought I might be having enough fun for one day, I topped out. The views from on top were absolutely spectacular! And this was just the first 6 miles or so of my day! The riding across the top of Ten Mile was rough and rocky, but once I started down the other side to Copper Mountain, the trail became singletrack heaven.

Victory! Top of Ten Mile

Next up was the climb up to Searle and Kokomo passes. This was a much more pleasant trail to go up then what I had just experienced on Ten Mile. I was actually surprised at how much of it was rideable. About half way up, I caught four riders that had started the day before. Two of them were from West Virginia and two were from Phoenix. I wish I could remember their names, I'm absolutely horrible with names. We made it to the top and stopped to watch two huge storms approaching. After watching for a while, it appeared the storms were going on either side of us. This gave us a chance to make a break for it. We flew up and over Indian Ridge all the while keeping an eye on the storms. The downhill off Indian Ridge down to Camp Hale is one of the most spectacular downhills on the whole route! Miles and miles of absolutely screaming singletrack!

After Camp Hale, we climbed up and over Tennessee pass, rode some more trail, Then rode the highway into Leadville and some much needed food. We found a little burrito truck that was fantastic! I think I alone ate three quesadillos and three burritos before I even started to feel full. It was the first real meal I'd eaten since I left Denver, so i was absolutely famished.

After eating and lounging for a while, the two West Virginia boys decided they were done with their CTR ride (they had run out of time), so we said goodby and I was off with the two Phoenix guys. The next few miles to Twin Lakes were fast and fun. The Phoenix guys, at this point, decided to call it a night. I had big plans of making it to Buena Vista before stopping, so I continued onward. After riding and riding and still not making out to Clear creek, I decided I should stop and live to fight another day. I found a spot under a short pine tree and passed out.

 Day 3....

Day three started out with an amazing downhill down to Clear creek and then a quick and pleasant ride into Buena Vista on paved and dirt roads. Once in BV, I made a bee-line to the Subway, ate a footlong and 6 in, then went to the 7eleven to stock up. When I say stock up, I mean pack as much food as I possible can into every available pocket, nook, cranny, and crevice as I possibly can find.  I've  read in my research that its almost 200 miles to the next easy restock point, so I'm a little nervous. This leads me to probably way over packing on the junk food but I guess better safe than sorry.

On my way out of town looking like an overloaded gypsy wagon, I run into my next two riding partners. Glen and Wayne were absolute beast on there machines! Whether climbing boulder strewn climbs, bombing down hair raising descents, or tackling obnoxious HABs, they were not afraid. I rode with, or should I say, hung on all day to almost highway 50. Finally they decided to stop for water and I decided to keep rolling figuring they would catch me. Unfortunately, I didn't see them again until a couple days later.

After highway 50 is when things really started getting interesting. It started off innocently enough, riding through beautiful old growth forest along Fooses creek. I had noticed the sky getting darker and darker. I didn't think much about it but soon it started to sprinkle. Then it started raining harder and harder eventually becoming a down right deluge. This wasn't the kind of rain that passes after an half hour, it was the kind that could last all night. Fooses climb is notorious for being one of the toughest climbs on the CT. After climbing for a couple hours in the driving rain and getting wetter and colder, I finally decided to bivy under a pine tree. I had wanted to make it to Marshall pass before stopping for the day, but the weather conditions were just getting too difficult for my tired state. This is when my phone got wet and I was no longer able to take any pictures. 

After laying there shivering for about three hours, I saw two sets of lights coming up the trail. Could it be Wayne and Glenn? No, but I wasn't real sure who it was. I was a little ways off the trail so they didn't see me under the tree. I thought to myself, 'if they can hike up into that storm, then I can too'! After mustering up the nerve to put on my wet shoes and climb out into the rain I was off hiking into the unknown.

Before long, I was hiking up above tree-line and it was starting to dump snow. Snow in August, how crazy is this! Man this trail seems to be never-ending and going straight up. Eventually, I would top out on the famous Monarch Crest trail. At that point, the full moon popped out and I got the most unbelievable view of the surrounding mountain ranges from 12000 feet. I looked at my thermometer, 32 degrees. Better get going, very cold.

Riding down towards Marshall pass, I happened to catch a glimpse of two riders on the ground in their bivies. I stopped when one of them said 'hey, who goes there?'. Wow, it was my buddy from Florida, Chad Parker, who I'd been trying to catch since I'd started. He and, the one and only, Ethan Passant, were the ones I'd seen hiking up into the storm. I had had enough of the rain, snow, and wind, so I once again pulled out my bivy and lightly passed out with them.

Day 4....

Sometime before daylight, I woke up to Chad walking around saying he was freezing. So he packed up and took off down the trail. Before long, Ethan was up also and gone leaving me laying there with a sharp rock sticking right into my hip. I could barely move. It was my first time sleeping above 10000 feet and I wasn't coping to well. It was like I just couldn't catch my breath. I hadn't noticed this shortness of breath until now, and I was fine once I was on my bike, it was just when I laid down that I had trouble breathing. Finally, I made myself crawl out into the frigid air, I packed my soaking wet gear, and headed down to Marshall.

The sun was absolutely wonderful at Marshall pass! The cows were happily munching on there grass. I decided to hang out and try to dry some of my gear and soak up some rays. I hung out there way too long. After freezing all night, I just wanted to be lazy. But I needed to get going, it was a long ways to Spring Creek pass, my next destination.

The next segment was absolutely horrible! It's called Sargent's Mesa and strikes fear in the hearts of even the most hardened bikepackers. It's basically a motorcycle trail that does not follow the contour of the land, but instead, goes straight up and down and is full of huge boulders and ruts. I think its an absolute waste of the CT and hopefully it will be able to be rerouted in the future.

Anyway, I caught up to Chad Parker, who was absolutely having a blast just being out in the Colorado wilderness. We rode together for awhile until we got to Tank Seven creek and filled up on water since it would be quite a few miles before another opportunity to refill. At this point, Jesse Jakomait passed us. I'm still in disbelief at how fast these cats were riding this trail! In the end, Jefe, Ethan, and Jesse finished right at four days. Truly unbelieveable!

Chad and I ended up splitting ways since we were riding different paces. I kept riding a little and hiking a lot. The trail just never seemed to ever get any flow. I got stuck in several more storms all of which had big hail and terrifying lightning. On one of the rocky downhills, I got a little out of control, kicked up a huge rock into my frame, and CRACK! I stopped to survey the damage and, sure enough, my bike was broken. The rock had jumped up into the direct-mount front derailleur and snapped it and the seat tube. After all that work, my trip was done. I limped out to Apple's camp and hung out with some hikers for a while trying to decide what to do. I decided to set up camp, get a good night's sleep, and decide what to do in the morning when I could think more clearly.

In the morning, Chad, Dan Miller-Lionberg, Wayne, Glenn, and Cat Morrison had arrived. After hanging around camp for a couple hours with everyone, they decided to continue on and I decided to make the call I didn't want to. I hate quitting, but I was just to afraid my machine wouldn't make it through the Cataract section. Fortunately, it was only 30 downhill miles to Gunnison, so I made the decision and my trip was done.

In the end....

The swelling in my feet went down after a few days, saddle chaffing healed up, but to this day I still can't stop thinking about what I experienced in Colorado. It was truly an experience that will never be forgotten.