Tour de Colorado - Wednesday

We can tell from the beginning it’s going to be another hot day.  Fortunately, we aren’t planning on dragging the truck too far.  Just a few miles along the highway to the top of Rabbit Ears Pass (so called because of a local rock shaped like, you know.)

The riders are on their way up from Breckenridge and while we know it will take them a while to get here, we aren’t sure when the officials will be closing the road so to make sure we aren’t blocked out, we get an early-ish start and soon have our spot staked out by the highway.

It’s at the top of a 9,426 ft. high pass.  The type of hill I would need a fork-lift truck to get my bike up.  We’re looking down a long, straight stretch so will have plenty of advance notice when the riders are coming.  Even so, we know they’ll be passed us in a flash.  However, when you’re following a tour, the cyclist going by is only a small part of it.  It’s the carnival atmosphere amongst the waiting spectators which makes it all worthwhile.  The bikes are just the icing on the cake.

Beer gets drunk, jokes get cracked, photos get snapped and friendships get made.  It doesn’t get much better than this.  If the Internet access hadn’t crapped out when we crested the pass, we would all have been able to use our Smartphone Apps to know exactly where the riders were but no matter.  A helpful support car came along a few minutes early to let us know that Jans Voigt was leading the field by a little over 2 minutes and sure enough, a little while later he hove into view.  41 year old Mr. “Shut Up Legs” himself.

He wasn’t smiling but then, he was riding 106 miles today, almost all uphill and I sure as hell wouldn’t be smiling either.

Four more riders ground their way passed us and then came the pack.  Looking mean and angry, they didn’t seem to be going much slower than when we saw them on the flat.  So it was no great surprise when we learned later that despite dragging everyone else up the hill, Voigt was beaten in an exciting sprint finish after losing the lead only a couple of miles from the finish.

Sorry Jens, but we had a great day all the same.

Tour de Colorado - Tuesday III

So it doesn’t really look that far on a map.  Aspen to Steamboat Springs.  The road is a bit squiggly it’s true and we knew that meant some uppy bits.  But we really didn’t expect it to take us this long.  A supermarket and gas stop took way longer than it should.  And some endless construction zones slowed us somewhat.

But the most troublesome delay was due to the truck deciding to revisit an old and so far, incurable problem which causes it to just die suddenly.  Out of the blue, the engine will splutters to a halt, taking with it the power steering and brakes.  Which is about as exciting as it gets when you’re going down a steep hill pulling a trailer.  Fortunately, even though this happened three times on the journey, there was no harm done.  It was just a hot, long and wearisome drive.

Still, it’s late evening now and we’re snug in our little trailer, with dog and dog snoozing on the floor.  The beer stayed cold and the campsite is pretty.  It’s not all bad, this bike touring lark.

Tour de Colorado - Tuesday II

It’s several years since I last visited Aspen and my account of it is somewhere over there in the archives.  My impression hasn’t changed much.  It’s pretty enough and if I was a skier, I’d love to visit.  But it isn’t somewhere I’d want to live, even if I could afford to do so.  As a client once explained it to me.  In Aspen you either clean the hotel rooms, or manage the people who clean the hotel rooms, or you own the hotel rooms.  Yeah, that’s about it.

In 1971, my favorite author, Hunter S. Thompson ran for Sheriff on what he called the “Freak Power” platform.  Basically this involved mobilizing the hippies and societal dropouts in an attempt to block the wealthy and powerful from ruining the small mountain town he loved.

His manifesto included the following:

“To drive the real estate goons out of the valley: to prevent the State Highway Department from bringing a four-lane highway into the town and in fact, to ban all auto traffic from every downtown street.  Turn them all into grassy malls where everybody, even freaks, could do whatever’s right.  The cops would become trash collectors and maintenance men for a fleet of municipal bicycles for anybody to use.  No more huge, space killing apartment buildings to block the view from any downtown street, of anybody who might want to look up and see the mountains.  No more land rapes, no more busts for “flute playing” or “blocking the sidewalk”…fuck the tourists, dead-end the highway, zone the greedheads out of existence, and in general create a town where people could live like human beings, instead of slaves to some bogus sense of Progress that is driving us all mad.”

Hunter came within a few votes of winning the election, scaring the crap out of the controlling elite.  But did he really fail?  Certainly, the town has changed dramatically since the early 70’s and the results of a pursuit for the almighty dollar is evident almost everywhere.  It’s depressingly overrun with condos, expensive boutique shops and tourists like us.

But (most of) the downtown streets are closed to traffic, there is a grass lined stream running down a central mall, the threatened four-lane highway stops well short of town and while the cops may not be bicycle mechanics, they wear pastel colored uniform shorts.  And the ones we encountered were friendly in a warm, fuzzy kind of way.  Not only that, there IS a communal bicycle sharing program.  Also, the sidewalks were comfortably blocked today.  Maybe this would have happened without Hunter’s efforts 40 years ago.  Or maybe not.

Either way, as we drove past the turnoff to Woody Creek, Hunter’s home for so many years, I downed a beer in his honor.  (I had no Wild Turkey).  In keeping with the spirit of the thing, I didn’t even hide it in a closed container.

Yeah, me and Hunter S. Thompson.  Outlaws.

Tour de Colorado - Tuesday I

Lots of people in the campsite are here with their bikes.  Serious, hardcore looking machines, weighing less than the potato chips I eat as recovery fuel after a ride.  Then there’s the group with the more interesting machines.  Long wheel-based cargo bikes, very fat-tired mountain bikes and 2 creations with one frame welded on top of another and the seat five feet off the ground.  It was something of a relief to learn that unlike apparently everyone else; they weren’t planning to ride to the top of Independence Pass.  This made us feel a little better about our planned ride.  An epic climb of 0.7 miles from the campsite to the highway with an elevation gain of 10 or 12 feet. 

Although to be fair, none of the hardcore types had dogs trotting alongside on a leash.  Nor were they carrying camp chairs slung over their shoulders or a dog water bowl in one hand.  So eat it, hardcore types.

Once by the road, we settled into a shady spot just up from the guy in the stars and stripes top hat and the lady in the bear suit.  We didn’t have too long to wait before the parade of team cars, photographer motor-cycles, cop cars and assorted hangers on began.  The riders weren’t long behind but like yesterday, were past in moments.  And this is frickin’ uphill.  I’m starting to think I’m going to need to spread molasses on the road so they slow down enough for me to get a good look at them.  We have cheat sheets with the rider names, numbers and jersey patterns but seriously, they go by so fast, Eddie Merckx could be tucked in there on a penny-farthing and I wouldn’t notice.  How the hell Phil Ligget can call the races based on the stuff he sees on his monitor is beyond me.

Tomorrow though.  Tomorrow we plan to be watching near the top of Rabbit Ears pass near Steamboat Springs.  Maybe that will be tough enough to see if any of them are human.