DAY FORTY-THREE 7/29/00 40 miles
Lynx Pass to Kremmling, CO
Cold, cold, cold this morning as we headed off the top of the Lynx Pass. The
guide book told us we would have to ford a stream, but when we got there, the
beavers had been busy. The water was backed up and 30 inches deep across the
road. It was a push to get our bikes upstream through the willows and
brush about 100 yards to find a place where the crossing was manageable.
We looked for moose in the swamps of the high meadows as the rolling hills took
us higher and higher until we finally topped out at nearly 9000 feet again. From
here we gazed 2000 feet down to the Colorado River. After a quick lunch,
we checked our brakes and headed down watching the dirt change from brown to red
to green as we reached the settlement of Radium. There is nothing at Radium but
it was bustling with the activity of river rafters putting in and taking
out: buses, vans, trailers, guides, moms, dads, grandmas, grandpas, kids,
coolers and life jackets. We waded into the river to filter enough water to get
us the 12 miles up, away from the river, in the now hot afternoon. It was a slow
tedious climb with shuttle buses for the rafters whizzing by. As the climb
progressed the views became more spectacular. Far below in Gore Canyon the train
snaked through tunnels along the river. We are spending the night in Kremmling,
an ordinary town with no resorts and few tourists, camping in a free bikers camp
behind the volunteer fire station. Two Trans-Am riders shared their tales with
us.
DAY FORTY-FOUR 7/30/00 56.5 mi- 4040 ft
Kremmling to Heaton Bay/Dillon Reservoir/FriscoN39*36.2' W106*4.6'
We said farewell to Lynn and Chris, the Trans-Am riders, left Kremmling,
followed the Colorado River, and swatted mosquitoes. They were as big and persistent
as any Montana or even Minnesota insects. As we began our climb away from the
River and Williams Fork Reservoir towards Ute Pass, we left the pesky little
bugs behind. Up, up, up for 4 miles to a spectacular, but very hazy view of the
Gore Mountains. It was a fun 5 mile descent, but then we had to get onto Highway
9 with bumper to bumper traffic with no shoulder. When we got closer to town the
traffic was backed up for miles in every direction. It seems a motor home caught
fire in the Eisenhower Tunnel on Interstate 70 about noon and the freeway was
closed for 7 hours. Rita's cousin Kent Diekmeier, his daughter Dana and his
mother Floreine came from Denver to meet us at the campground. It took nearly 5
hours and we don't know how many extra miles of driving. Kent just became aware
of our website on Saturday and thought a Sunday afternoon drive might be fun. We
sure enjoyed visiting with him but I'm sure the driving was a big hassle. Now
that we are in Summit County and the land of 14er's, we are seeing a lot more of
the attraction of Colorado.
DAY FORTY-FIVE 7/31/00 30 miles 3200 ft
Dillon Reservoir to Selkirk Gulch Creek
We started the day riding on some of the finest bike pathways we've ever
seen. From the Dillon Reservoir all the way to the huge ski resort town of Breckenridge
we were diverted away from automobile traffic. We stopped midway on the trail in
the town of Frisco for breakfast while we waited for the post office to open, so
we could pick-up our new filter cartridge from PUR. When we arrived in the
resort Mecca of Breckenridge, we gave in and bought our first latte of the
entire trip. Since we live in Hillyard we felt some kinship with the railroad
history of Breckenridge. Ken wanted his picture taken with the big, old rotary
snow plow engine on the outskirts of town. The city is at an elevation of 9600
feet and our task was to follow the old railroad grade to Boreas Pass at 11,482
feet. the grade was so gradual the elevation gain hardly caused a wheeze or a
gasp in the thin air. At the top the historic depot has been converted to a
visitors center/winter ski hut. It was hosted by a young gentleman volunteer
from Canmore, Alberta. He reported that Chris and Mike are just 1 day ahead of
us.
DAY FORTY-SIX 8/1/00 37.5 miles 800 ft
Selkirk Creek to Hartsel
Down, down, down! We slept just a few hundred feet below Boreas Pass at
11,452 feet. We followed the rail grade down to the near ghost town of Como,
which has a rich railroad history. We stopped for snacks at the mercantile,
proceeded through South Park, a broad basin, for 30 miles to the town of
Hartsel. We stopped at the mercantile in this town of 111 people to inquire
about water and camping. We were informed that we should not drink any tap or
stream water even if it was filtered. We could, however camp behind the old, 1
room school house/community center. So we bought 2 gallons of water, pitched the
tent and headed for the saloon/cafe for a beer, burger and a salad. Dennis, an
elderly rancher who informed us that he worked hard and played hard, told us how
community volunteers had restored the school and teachers house into a community
center and library. We met some more volunteers coming out of the community
center after a planning meeting for the Hartsel Harvest Festival. Later, when
Ken helped some kids pump up their bike tires, they began to tell us about the
court hearings being held at their school to see if they could get their water
back. Park County and the city of Aurora, near Denver, are having a battle over
water rights. Community activism is alive and well in small town America.
DAY FORTY-SEVEN 8/2/00 48 miles
Hartsel to Salida
We left 3 old gentlemen playing cribbage at a table in the Hartsel
Mercantile, at 6:45 AM. This town had several active volunteers so, Rita assumed
they must have good leaders. When she asked a fellow who the mayor was, she
learned they don't have a mayor. One of the fellows said, "We think the
town was incorporated but nobody can find the papers." The people in this
community are as fiercely independent as any of the folks from North Idaho or
Montana. They are ready to go head-to-head with Denver, Colorado Springs, and
Aurora over the right to their water in Park County. We rode through desert-like
land that was reminiscent of southern Wyoming, however this land was privately
owned and had been platted into subdivisions. Roads had been built into this
wide open barren space some time ago, but finally lots are beginning to sell as
people from all over the United States seek out rural living and more space. We
rode over a 10,000 foot pass and coasted down a 10 mile long, dry, hot stream
bed into Salida, a lovely town of 4700. It was a disappointment that the
spectacular vistas of Colorado's magnificent 14,000 foot peaks were hidden in
the smokey haze from the forest fires. In Salida we got an inexpensive room at
the Budget Lodge; we needed a real shower. A walk back downtown took us to
Moonlight Pizza, our first pizza on the trip. It was pizza worth waiting for. We
were the only customers and the waiter, Nathan Ward, was a cyclist who has
published a story of his tour through Mongolia. Dinner conversation was fun.
Salida is a rafting capital on the Arkansas River and boasts many single track
trails, so we considered taking a rest day here, but have decided to push on 4
more days to Del Norte.
DAY FORTY-EIGHT 8/3/00 34.5 miles 3830 ft
Salida to Camp west of Marshall Pass N38*22.7' W106*16.5'
Last night when we had pizza at Moonlight Pizza. Nathan Ward, the manager,
suggested we stop at Daylight Donuts on our way out of Salida in the morning.
Ken, the donut duke, was not one pass up the opportunity. The donuts were
excellent. Of course, the owner and donut maker was Nathan's dad, David. We
headed west out of town on Salida's new rail to trail. It was a joy to see so
many older adults out for their early morning walk as we rolled by. No one
mentioned that the trail would soon dead end in a cow pasture, so when we hit
the weeds and fence, the only option was to back track a couple miles. Once we
got on the right road, today's ride was 28 miles of up hill. Salida was at 7000
feet of elevation and we topped out at 10,842 foot Marshall Pass. We had two
choices: we could take route A which climbed 3000 feet in 7 steep, rocky miles
or we could follow route B , which followed an old railroad grade for 12 miles
to gain the same 3000. Feeling like it would take a lot more donuts for route A,
we opted for route B. By two o'clock, when our butts were killing us, thankfully
it started to thunder, lightning, and rain. Not wanting to be on top of a pass
in a thunder storm, we found a flat spot along the road, pitched the tent,
climbed in and took a nap. By the time we woke up the sun was shining and the
inside of the tent felt like a sauna. We packed up quickly and hit the road for
the last 6 miles to the top, then coasted down 6 miles to a nice dispersed
campsite near a stream in the Gunnison National Forest.
DAY FORTY-NINE 8/4/00 75.5 miles
Marshall Pass to Saguache Creek
We broke camp quickly, skipped the usual oatmeal breakfast and headed 10
miles downhill to Dotty's Cafe and Towing in the town of Sargents
("elevation high - population few"). On the way down we saw some very
extensive landscape alteration done by beavers. Aspen trees, 8-12 inches in
diameter, had been chewed down, were lying across the road, and ready to be
dragged down to Marshall Creek for more dam building. After seeing how much
water they could back up, we had a better understanding where the term beaver
fever originates. We've seen a lot of wildlife on this trip, but it took 1600
miles and all the way to Colorado to see our first elk. What a sight! The guide
book suggested a big 59 miles today, but most of the first 23 were downhill.
Then as suddenly as the easy was over, we were back in the rolling hills desert
for the next 20 miles. Just about the time the heat became unbearable, we
entered the Gunnison National Forest for the our 17th continental divide
crossing at Cochetopa Pass (10,067). Four miles from the top the usual afternoon
thunder storms caught up to us. Not wanting to be on top for the fireworks, we
decided to wait for the ugly to pass. We waited out the storm with a young
geologist, who was studying the volcanic calderas in southern Colorado. We
knew we had been looking at volcanic geology with lava domes, basalt cliffs, and
ash-like soil. By 4:30 we arrived at the top of this historic stage coach road
and divide between the Rio Grande and Gunnison drainages. We anxiously coasted 4
miles to Luders Creek campground only to find a broken pump and a dry creek. Our
1 remaining liter of water would never be enough to cook our beans and rice and
quench our thirst, so we hopped back on our trusty steeds and continued down for
another 15 miles to a Jim and Peggy Curtis' ranch house to ask for water. They
invited us into their kitchen, offered us a glass of wine or iced tea, and
filled us with the lore of being a 4th generation ranch family. Jim's Great-Grandpappy
was running horses in Saguache (Sawatch) County in the 1860's. Their son, a
truck driver, and their grandsons with futures in technology, have no interest
in the ranch, so Jim and Peggy lament that the ranch will be lost. Just before
sunset we headed a short distance back into the National Forest for a beautiful
camp by small stream among high basalt cliffs. This land reminds us of back home
in eastern Washington. Are we getting homesick?
Note: Some of you have asked about our guidebook and maps. The guidebook is:
Cycling the Great Divide - From Canada to Mexico - The Longest Mountain Bike
Route in America by Michael McCoy of Adventure Cycling Association. Published by
the Mountaineers - www.mountaineersbooks.org
Adventure Cycling Association (they are on the internet) also sells the set of 6
maps that guide you on forest service, BLM, and county roads. 85% of the route
is gravel, 10% paved, and 5% single track.