schnauzers.ws

It was pretty busy down below with not a lot of parking left. But, it seemed like most people were just lounging around the picnic tables or walking the hiker trail.

In my procrastinating about procrastinating, I had already made up in my mind that I would do too many miles. Once again, plans seemed to change. The climb up Wapiti was so enjoyable, I immediately fell into my happy place. Yes, this is a smile.

I think it was all the friendly people I got to talk to, that even at this short venture into the ride, I was happy. Maybe, the happiest I have been in quite some time. All the right things click into place. The weather was perfect, the bike was doing it’s job, and I wasn’t even breathing heavy. I still had to stop at the old house, though. When I think about how they took the stone blocks right from a quarry on the trail, I am amazed at how hard they worked to get it perfect. I took some Geography classes in College, when I couldn’t decide what I wanted to be. One of them was Geography of Appalachia. I think that class changed me. I look for these kind of things now. The location it was built, the architecture, and the work that went into it. You can’t use a nail gun on this.

The trails were rockin’ today. So fast, even with the "not so baby" baby heads. Like butta! I’m climbing and climbing but the only thought is how much fun it’s going to be on the way back down.

Take note property managers. This is how you do it, yet I still had to give directions and info. I like that anyway. It gives me a chance to talk to people. And talk, I did. I spent a lot of time (shoot, I was on the trail for five hours) shooting the breeze with hikers and bikers. I guess it renews my spirit and faith in human beings when everyone gets along. Smiles all around or maybe they were just using MMJ? It is Boulder, after all.

The commitment to going down Picture Rock might have been difficult, had I still been in my state of procrastination. I probably would have sat at the Wild Turkey intersection for fifteen minutes deciding whether or not to pull the trigger. It was different now. I didn’t think about it. What else are you here for, Mitchell? Live a little. And, downhill I went and that was the greatest decision I’ve made in a long time. Ok, well maybe after deciding to go to Heil.

Did I mention I love this trail? Why? Well, yes it has scenery,

It has history, character, and style.

And, it seems to go on forever.

I’m almost to Hall Ranch now, where my plan was to turn around and head back. Which, I did without procrastination. Yup, I’m in my happy place.

You know a trail is built right when the climb is as fun as the decent. I felt so good, I threw in a loop on Wild Turkey and Ponderosa just for sheets and giggles.  I also had the opportunity to fix a few mechanicals.  I never get to do that.

And a little bit of what makes Colorado.

And yes, the decent back down Wapiti was everything and more than I thought of on the way up.

Got up top and took Pick and Sledge to Sluice Box to the other new piece of trail.

I continued up Apex and oogled at the strapping young bucks ;).

Then I came down Enchanted Forest, which I totally forgot how much fun it is, to Apex, which I think is more fun than EF. No pictures of that. Gee, I wonder why?

Then got home and hooked up the new keg (Fort Collins Brewery Double Chocolate Stout).

Sun baked dirt road starts your climb.

Merely, a means to the end or is it the beginning?

Journey on my friend. Push your bike up the two miles that only a mountain goat would find soothing.

Snaking ribbon of brown amongst a canopy of green.

A deceiving notion of gentle rolling bliss, but do not be deceived. You will climb. No, you will grunt and moan. Each pedal stroke beckons the virtue of physical will. Was it worth it?

Like minded souls of Summer line up for their show. Entertainers of the great outdoors. Who’s to tell if there is a reward? That ponder is an easy one to decipher.

Away! Your journey is just beginning.

It’s time to reap your reward. You’ve earned it. It’s a show for us. Your reaction is the writing of a thousand words. We see it.

We feel it.

You roll on. Your not expending anymore energy. You’ll need what you have left because nature’s paintbrush will take away every last breath. The climb seems easy now, doesn’t it? Climb? What climb?

You don’t let your guard down. It’s a fast paced rock fest that can take you out in a moments notice. You know this. One more shot, put that camera away, and concentrate.

Another year goes by and another ride of yonder.

My first sign were the cars parked by the trailhead. I have never seen that before. When I drove by Kenosha, the only thought going through my mind was why? It was a mad house of cars and bikes. If I wanted to subject myself to that today, I would have ridden local trails. That’s why I drove the extra ten minutes to Boreas Pass. Yeah, and let me rant here but take it with a grain of salt. By crowded, I am talking about four hikers and six bikers.

Needless to say, this trail still takes my breath away. Not from a difficult point of view. Heck, I think there is one rock I can’t get over.

No. My breath is stolen by the solitude and unique sound of the tire rolling along the pine needles. I can’t explain it. It’s just a combination of the air in the tire, the knobbies, and the individual pine needles being run over by my wheel. I don’t even look around, I just listen.

All this melodic white noise. Then, I stop to take a picture, put my bike in the middle of the trail, and wham!

Whoa! I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to see anyone else here. Really, that’s what I said. Ignorant? Yeah, maybe but I have been trained to think that here. Why come here when there’s a perfectly good Kenosha just up the road? The bike doesn’t seem to mind, but in the back of my head I do. Selfish? Yes. But, I don’t get to partake in trail solitude all that often. I share, just like everyone else. Hello, Goodbye. Have a nice ride. A smile. That doesn’t change, but there’s a frown in the back of my head.

I ride on and forget again. Maybe, it’s just a figment of my imagination. People? Here? Nah. Let the distraction slip away, the mechanical sounds drown in the water, the reflection of metal disappear in the distance.

Weather is rolling in and I haven’t even made it to the best part. Decision time. I can’t pass up my favorite part. Maybe, I can squeak by.

Yes! I make it to the flume and mosey my way up (.8% grade – hardly up). I am purposely going slow as if to savor the moment. It’s like a "being in the zone" kind of thing. I’m not paying much attention to what’s in front of me until I come around a corner and nearly get run off the hill. More people? What the heck? They are not looking to stop either. Maybe, it’s hard to tell who is really going uphill, but trail etiquette should still be followed

This was the sign of the day, though I did run into some familiar people even though I didn’t immediately recognize them. I’m not good with faces and names, but I always seem to see people who know me. Nice seeing you Reven, George, and Todd. At least, I can remember a few hours later. That and the fact they passed my geared bike on their single speeds like I was standing still.

I found out from some other riders that the Gold Dust trail is part of the Breckenridge 100. That explains the people traffic, but also probably spells out the end of a little used trail.

Well, not before taking a good look at the South Platte.

Buck Gulch can become pretty unforgiving, especially in the heat. Let this be a reminder to you, Don’t play with matches.

The look on Stu’s face says it all. Where’s my Mommy? There wasn’t even the slightest breeze as we continued the climb. For the first time, I was sucking down water at an alarming rate. What made matters worese is that most of it was still frozen.

Keith was sporting his new ride. I think a 29er suits him well. We’ll have a chance to see that orange bike throughout this report.

Ah, the top! A chance to wait for our legs and lungs to catch up and get ready for the best part.

There were two long downhills on out ride today. This was one and Strawberry Jack was the other. The camera didn’t come out for the final decent. There’s that orange bike again!

At this point we headed back to the CT up 543 and then Tramway. The hurt was on for me. Dehydration had taken it’s toll and I was out of "non frozen" water by the top of Tramway. H2O was my goal, so I headed down the CT while the boys climbed Green Mountain. I filled up my belly to the point it would explode at the Meadows Campground and then rested in the shade

Water definately is the elixir of life and I felt totally revived. Once regrouped, we headed out on the CT to Redskin Creek trail, then up Gashouse and homestead to the mind numbing downhill of Strawberry Jack.

If this was the end of the day, it still would have been perfect. But, I did get the chance to do some night patrolling for Jefferson COunty Open Space. It was cool to be perched off trail out on the hogback. There was a concert in Red Recks and you could hear the music while watching the jet cars and dragsters at Vandemere.

And the firewroks from an eye level vantage point were spectacular!

There’s something about this shot that I really like. Yeah, I know I didn’t keep the camera still (no tripod), but the movement added a really cool effect.

Great show that went on for 40 minutes!