I get to the cafe room to find a line waiting for it to open. The three waitresses are in for a tough morning. I get to eat 2 pancakes and a egg while reading the local newspaper. Let's see an article on the DAR meeting... no prison breaks. Driving into town last night I see that the old prison is just one small complex out of the half dozen or so surround the town of Canon City. Some of the prisons are immense expanses of barracks like whole army bases only with razor wire glittering sinisterly around them. The illumination of their yard lights gives the sky a apricot glow. Otherwise it is a cute little town. I wonder if they let the prisoners who have done their time just out the front gate and into an innocent little town like this.
I get my stuff together and drive over the adjacent Wallmart for the start of the ride. I register at the table next to the truck that will transport our bags to Buena Vista. It is cold this morning but I think that is half my metabolism being so slow in the morning and half the cloud cover that has taken the sun. I park the truck with the hundred or so others, safety in numbers you know.
I take off through town toward the mountains. The route takes me along the old main street of the town with its cafes and hardware stores. The "new" highway 50 is a block or so to the South and has the hallmarks of modern America, Burger King and McDonalds.
I leave town up highway 50 not at all sure what to expect. A few years ago, on Ride the Rockies, I had come from Salida to Canon City. I remember it being mostly down hill. I know what that means this time. I pass the old prison as I leave town. There is the employment office for the prison. Can I be hired as a prisoner?
There is a long uphill climb out of the city. You can tell that summer is almost here by the numbers of RVs on the road. I wisely decide not to add 10 miles to my route by taking the Royal Gorge turnoff.
It is a quick decent to the Arkansas River. Canon City is on Arkansas after it comes out of the Royal Gorge. Now I am on the Arkansas before it enters. Only the railroad tracks follow the route of the river.
By 9:30 the sun is out and I am beginning to tire but a tail wind keeps my spirits high and the thrill of wheeled motion keeps me in a euphoric trance. The Arkansas River canyon is beautiful. It isn't deep or dramatic it is calm and restful. The fishermen fish, the rafters float by. The vegetation takes it time to switch from the Juniper, Choilla and sandstone to a big pine and bucolic setting. The huge peaks of the Sangre de Cristo's rise higher around every bend in the road. The extra snow they wear this year makes them look all the more idealic.
I pass two guys who later catch up to me and thank me for reminding them to work a little harder. Their names are Andy and Reed. We work together for awhile me taking the downhills and they pulling the ups. I passed a 12th Annual Chili Cookoff. Lots of cars parked on both sides of the road. Country folk having a good time. It looked like a small carnival without the rides.
I pass the towns of Wellsville, Pleasanton and Swissvale. Well, really they are more like a store or an old ten room motel rather than a town. There names reflect a felling of the valley however.
I pull into Salida. I am now on the 219 cutoff to 285. The road is small and well traveled. Salida is as cute a little town as you could want in this dramatic widening of the valley between the high peaks of the Sangre de Cristos. The town looks like it had a fresh coat of paint for the tourist season and has stocked itself with adorable Bed and Breakfasts.
I leave Reed to meet a friend in town and finally let Andy fall behind on a large hill North of town. A storm is brewing over the next hill. It came off of Monarch Pass and is moving swiftly across the valley, left to right. I could get stomped by such a storm. Cars coming from the storms direction are not wet so it could be just virga. I get spat on by the tail of the clouds as they move off over the mountains to the East. The wind changes direction to out of the North. It could be a hard last 10 miles into Buena Vista.
I arrive dry and tired at the High School around 1:30. I check in and get directions to my motel. It is a nice 12 room 50's motel. The room has a big wall heater, dark wood paneling and has a lot of leaks to make sure the air is nice a fresh as outdoors. The place is very clean and neat in its old used way. The oak headboards on the two double beds that fill the room are branded with cattle brands. How old west. The shower and tub work fine. I take advantage of both.
I get an hours nap and then off to walk about the town to prevent from getting too stiff. Now this town is small. It has a nice little park with a drive-in next to it playing Beach Boys songs about cars. I sit in the part and eat a hot dog and a large coke. I can hear the hummingbirds have arrived by their rapid fire tweeting as they fly by.
I go back to my room. About 5pm I walk over to the high school for the all you can eat spegheti dinner. Mount Princeton dominates the skyline to the West. As the sun sets the pinkish glow on the snow fields changes from second to second until even the tall peak can no longer see the sun. Fabulous scenery for the first day.
Next day it is up at 6:20 and off to breakfast at the High School Cafeteria. The morning is cold but the sun will be rising above the Eastern mountains soon. The pancakes were much better than the "All You Can Eat" spaghetti like stuff the night before. The opening climb is up highway 24 toward Trout Creek pass. It is a long 2000 foot climb to the barren high plains of South Park. I am tired but I feel I have restocked my reserves and can press on at a fair pass. I expect that this early climb is the end of the major climbs for today. I crest the summit and stop at the rest stop.
The rest stops on this trip have been about every 25 miles or so. They have a large variety of stuff. They have the mandatory bananas and oranges but they also have muffins in many flavors and cookies and begals and an open peanut butter jar and it is wonderful. I really need to eat almost every stop. I fill my water bottles and zip up my wind proof vest for the decent onto the high plain.
I rocket off the summit reaching close to 50 mph. I take the long arcing curve to Hartsel. This is high range land with a short growing season. The mountains at the North end of the park are snow laden. I am feeling exhilarated by the descent and the vast empty land streching out before me. I feel the dance of man, machine and terrain in that never ending game accent - descent - ascent - descent - play this hill against the next - pick the gear so the muscles don't tighten and tire - the feet floating on the pedals - the pedals in a rhythm of circles - the hills before me in a rhythm of dips and rises. It is a time of peaceful dreamlike flight across the high desert. Man - machine - terrain ... as in a dance of deepest intimacy ... or perhaps destiny, this moment and my actions being my only purpose ... my very being.
I skip the next rest stop knowing that there is just that one hill on the horizon I must climb. I make the turn and pedal down highway 9. Four climbs later, I realize my mistake. I am tired and low on fuel. I manage to chew down a cold hard quarter of a power bar. I press on. I pass a guy and his girlfriend. He says this is definitely the last hill. I am relieved and yet doubtful. I have dug into my reserves too soon and my playful attack on the high plains has ground down to a series of methodical assaults on each hill. I am no longer strong enough to play an optimum strategy on these larger hills.
I rest at the top of the last rise and prepare to descend. The early descent is broken by some periodic little hills that I try hard to pump over, but fail. I then begin the long awaited descent. I am hungry for speed and this is the food to sate my need. It is somewhat bumpy pavement that follows the fall of Current Creek to the Arkansas River. I figure I am at about 9100 feet and the Arkansas is at 6000 feet. I am going to enjoy this. I was too tired to really hammer but without much effort I could hold between 30 and 40 mph. The vegetation changed from stunted pine and sage to tall pine and grass I stopped at the rest stop at mile 54. I rested and ate for maybe as long as 20 minutes. I then plummeted. There were two places with short steep climbs where the road could not follow the stream. I passed through a wide valley and then came to a beautiful vista of the Arkansas valley below and a steep long descent on a smooth road. It was back up to 40+ mph for the ride down into sandstone country of the Arkansas. Passing by a rancher's place I mooed at the cows in the field only to get this disgusted look from a rancher who thought I was mooing at him. Another setback for cyclist/rancher diplomacy. :-)
I arrive back at highway 50 and find that highway 9 intersects 50 near the top and only a couple of miles of steady gentle climbing remain. Then the road drops like a screaming eagle into Canon City. I can't believe I rode calmly up this road the day before. I am passed by a group of bikers. (The kind on motorcycles) One of the ladies on the back smiles and waves at me as they disappear ahead. A headwind cuts my speed down to the low 30s but I am just enjoying the scenery and looking out for rocks on the road.
Soon I am quietly pedaling down Canon City's main street and arrive at Walmart to the polite clapping and cheers of the TOARV staff.
It was a great ride and well organized. I am tired and need a nap.
Stats: Day 1: 85mi 3900ft Day 2: 87.5mi 3500ft