schnauzers.ws

Ah, the unofficial beginning of Summer,  Memorial Day weekend.  A day we remember our fallen heroes, though some may have forgotten the true meaning of the Holiday.  We say a prayer for those who gave themselves unconditionally for our freedoms.  So we pay homage by enjoying those freedoms they died for.

Somehow I managed to score a campsite in Buffalo Creek for the weekend.  So, I loaded up the camper and headed for the zoo.  It was packed!  Still, I had my site.

I was a bit delayed heading out on Friday afternoon.  Work and a semi-repaired apartment on wheels didn’t give me enough time to get in a ride upon arrival.  I also didn’t realize that flipping the axle for an added three inches of clearance, meant the stabilizer  jack was three inches too short.  I bent the jack and rendered it useless.  So the camper was on a lean for the entire stay.  I got used to it.

Since I had some added daylight, I went to work on dinner.  Yeah, I don’t camp lightly.

All that starch filled my gut and nearly put me out for the night but, you have to have a fire to make it officially camping.

It was time to turn in.  A very hard thing to do given just how special the evening was.

Saturday morning and the one thing I treat myself to only when camping, Cocoa Crispies and WHOLE milk.  Puke food for the start of a ride, but I crave them.

Bring on the day!  Even with all the people staying in the forest, the place is still empty.

More solitude off the beaten path.

It’s the busiest weekend of the year and yet, empty.  Ok, there were others, but why would I take their picture?  I did offer up directions to about twenty riders.  Most of them were at Buffalo Creek for the first time.  The scary ones are sans helmet and one tiny bottle of Aquafina tucked into a bottle cage on their Mongoose.

Them:  How do we get back to we we are camping?

Me:  Where did you come in from?

Them:  Over there.

Me:  Well, how far do you want to ride?  Do you want the short route, medium route, or all day love affair?

Them:  Oh, we are good for a while.  How far is the medium route?

Me:  Twenty miles.

Them:  Can we just go back the same way we came?

Me:  I can get you there in a shorter distance.

Them:  That would be great!

I didn’t take the long route either, knowing that tomorrow may be a challenge.  I also shot some video, which made the ride a lot longer.

Sunday I thought I’d be smart and make a breakfast burrito.  That didn’t sit too well.  I thought I would need the extra energy to keep up with some friends coming down from Fort Collins.  Note to self, stick with a granola bar.

Tim and Barb arrive with their friends.  They are all part of the racing scene in Fort Fun and almost exclusively on singlespeeds.  Yeah, I kind of knew what I was getting myself into.  I don’t think I have ever ridden with people who don’t stop and rest.  Holy smokes!  I was good for the first eight miles, but I couldn’t keep the pace after that.  Still, they waited pretty often for me to catch up and continue the grand tour.  Stewart had some amazing bike handling skills.  Very impressive!

I don’t know many people who make it up this section.  He did it on the SS with some hopping trials maneuvers just to make it look easy.

It seems the younger you are, the faster you are.  they had constant energy.  They wouldn’t stop riding and even went back down the hill to check on me, before heading back up again.   Whoa!!!

Hey, lets make it a little longer by going up Raspberry Ridge.  Stupid me.

Once again, Stewart proved he could ride anything on that rigid SS.  We did talk him out of Blackjack, though I think he would have made that look like a walk in the park.

Though I did manage to pull my weight on Sandy Wash (the older I get, the more the downhills are my only salvation), Nice Kitty was a brutal reminder that I am not young.  I hate that trail!  It sucks the life out of me and even more so, doing it in the middle of the ride in full sun.  Yuck!  Add to that my Stans failure and the fact that my blood pressure meds work too well, and I was a hurting boy.

The others zoomed on ahead as I finally regained some composure on the Colorado Trail.  I’m sure I cost them about an hour, but some beer and burgers made it all better,

I didn’t stick around for the zoo release on Monday afternoon.

ver·nal adjective \ˈvər-nəl\

Definition of VERNAL

1: of, relating to, or occurring in the spring <vernal equinox> <vernal sunshine>
2: fresh or new like the spring; also : youthful

A new location, new trails, new bike, and a Spring-time tradition continues.  How ironic that Vernal can be used as an adjective and as a noun here.  A perfect combination.

I thought hard about splitting this trip into two parts, but the theme carries through and I’ll keep it together.   I saw parts of Colorado I have never seen, and spent a few days in Vernal, Utah and then almost directly south in Fruita, Colorado.

Why Vernal, Utah?  Well, over the past few years, there has been some hyping of the area.  Moab without the crowds, singletrack everywhere, lot’s of Dinosaurs, and a bike shop owner who’s poured his heart and soul into developing a destination.  This northeastern town is actually larger than Moab, so there are quite a few more amenities than usual.  Heck, we counted six Subway shops.  Oil and gas booms create towns out here and while I wouldn’t say that the industry brings mountain bikers, they have made it a part of their tourism plan.

We arrived in town on Friday afternoon, after driving from Golden via Rifle, Co.  We unloaded the Beast, surveyed the cabin, drank a beer, and decided a ride in the remaining daylight was in order.  A quick stop at Altitude Bike Shop, and Troy Lupcho gave us the skinny, maps, and some admiration for the Rocky Mountain Altitudes sitting on my car rack. Yes, we spent some money there as well.  I think it’s good to support the local guy.

Our stop for the day was McCoy Flats.  This BLM area has miles of handcrafted cross-country singletrack.  Troy has lead the charge to build here and he has done a great job in defining and signing the trails.

They certainly didn’t send out the welcome brigade, but that is one of the reasons we wanted to try Vernal.  No crowds!

(continue reading…)

I woke up to blue skies out my window, but the wind was howling. I’m not going to pay it any attention and maybe it will go away. Saddled up the truck and met the others for a carpool to down the highway. All the time, I kept noticing cars covered in snow heading east. Last night brought something, but was it in the valley?

There was quite a bit of wind blown snow and temperatures dropped as we reached the high point, but our starting point of Pine Valley Open Space was clear. That is, except for the wind. None-the-less, jackets on, we headed for the Buck Gulch climb with dreams of fast flowing singletrack in Buffalo Creek.

(continue reading…)

Just South of Denver, CO, is the town of Castle Rock. A sprawling suburban landscape nestled between the eastern plains and the Dakota sandstone ridge that stretches across the entire state. If you drove through the town along I-25, you wouldn’t give it a second thought. You could not even see the area that houses this gem of a trail system from the highway. Who knew a trail system would start right in the middle of suburban sprawl?

It was a picture perfect day. Sort of the calm before the snow expected during the week. Take advantage while you can! The trails are mostly decomposed granite, typical of most of Colorado. However, these trails had a bit more organic matierial to help keep the marbles down.

(continue reading…)

Every year I am required to refresh my patrol training as a volunteer for the Jefferson County Open Space. I enjoy these events, because I get to meet the other patrollers. There are 65 of us and you’d think we would see each other on a regular basis. However, there is so much open space in our county, that it’s very rare we run into one another. We all have our favorite parks and different times that we typically go out. This is the one time of the year, we get to share our stories, positives, and negatives.

Our training this year was at the top of Lookout Mountain, in the Nature Center. It’s been a mucky mess recently, but I figured I would give it a shot. I have this divining rod type of procedure I do. So far, I have not been wrong. I walk out of my office to the garden in back of the building. I press my fingers into the ground and smell the ground. Call me crazy, but I can always predict what will be dry and this was one of those occasions.

The climb up Chimney Gulch is rude, especially when it’s the first ride up of the season. You can see my dismal statistics here.

I’ll admit I had a few too many beers the night before, but I know when I’m TEH SUCK.

Regardless, the morning was actually perfect weather.

 

Yes, those are dry trails.  Told you I can predict it.  Even the top northern facing trails only presented a couple of snow drifts gently melting onto the trail.

I love this trail.  It’s all about my home town, Golden.  While I would drink the stuff if you paid me, it sure is an impressive view.

I huffed and puffed up the hill.  Maybe I just convinced myself it was a struggle.  I climb plenty of hills on the same bike.  Heck, I climb worse on a singlespeed, but I was just in a bad place.  None-the-less, onward I went.

Now let’s be far about my time going up.  I was patrolling, so I stopped and talked to every person I met.  I had some great conversations with some Dutch vacationers at the Windy Saddle parking area.  “Why are their so many bikers”, she said about the number of Roadies on the Lookout Mountain Road.  I explained the significance of it as a training ride, the loop they do, and that it would get worse as the temps go up.  The tourists were impressed and I pointed them to Coors for a tour and free beer.  Off they went and I snapped a pic of the dry conditions.

 

At the top, it was three hours of training, followed by a quick descent to BBQ and beer at home.

Descent info here.