Skip to main content

Colorado Epic: Day Fourteen


The final day of the tour.  I can’t believe it.  These past two weeks have gone incredibly fast.  Today, we went out with a bang.  We rode to the top of Pike’s Peak.  Allow me to share some stats:
The road to the summit is 19 miles long.  In those 19 miles, there is a 7,000 foot elevation gain.  Average grade hovers at 9%, with a big chunk at 10-12%.  Most of the 10-12% grade comes above 10,000 feet.  The summit is just over 14,000 feet.  
Most of the readers of this blog are familiar with Lost Trail Pass, so here’s a comparison.  Lost Trail Pass is seven miles long, with a 2,000 foot elevation gain.  Average grade is between 5-6%.  The summit is just over 7,000 feet.  That should put things in perspective.  
The group was excited this morning.  We were all early to breakfast, early to the van to ride to the start.  We were ready.  We rolled out together and immediately hit an 11% grade.  Right out of the gate, cold legs, no warm-up, we started climbing. Bring it, I thought.  I kept my Garmin on the screen that showed the elevation profile and average grade of the road.  I watched as the grade hovered between 10-11%.  
We each settled into our own rhythm and climbed at our own pace.  Throughout this tour, the more I’ve climbed, the better I’ve felt, and I hoped it held true for today.  
The lower slopes were steep and relentless, but around the six-mile mark, the road leveled out and even had a slight descent.  It felt great to spin the legs and take a few easy pedal strokes.  I knew it would be short-lived.  
As soon as we made our way around the lake, we started climbing again.  I found that on the brief occasion where we would have a 7% incline, I felt really good.  Things felt terrible at 8-9%, but at 10-11% incline, I felt really good again.  Steeper was better.  
Up and up and up we went.  I watched my altimeter tick over to 9,000 feet, and laughed to myself, thinking I still had another 5,000 feet of climbing to go.  After 10,000 feet, the road tilted up and never relented.  At 11,000 feet, the grade was consistently at 10-11%.  12,000 feet came and went, and still the grade remained high.  I happened to look down at my Garmin just as my altimeter ticked over to 13,000 feet.  At the same moment, I noticed the grade briefly bumped up to 18%.  Oof.  Yep.  That was steep.
And still we went up.  10%.  11%.  12%.  I could feel the lack of oxygen in my legs more than in my lungs.  It felt harder to turn the pedals, and I had to concentrate more to keep my legs turning in smooth circles.  I started talking to myself.  “Yep.  It’s a climb.”  “Yep, it’s good.”  “18%!  Jesus Christ!” 
I started counting down the stats.  A mile and three quarters!  Less than 900 feet to go!  A mile and a half!  750 feet!  


Higher and higher I went.  The road zigzagged up the mountain.  I could see the final corner high above me.  The views were stunning, and so was the wind.  A mile left.  Then a half mile.  I knew the grade had to let up at some point, but it didn’t relent until the final corner.  Suddenly, I was there.  The summit.  14,000 feet. 
I rode to the edge of the overlook and wobbled out of my pedal.  My legs felt shaky from the effort, but I was elated.  I had just climbed Pike’s Peak!  
Tom and I went to the summit sign and took some photos.  The rest of the group arrived, one by one, and we went back to the summit sign for more photos.  
Then it was time to descend.  19 miles goes remarkably faster downhill than uphill.  All too soon, I was at the bottom.  We piled the van and drove to the ending hotel.  
Upon arrival, Greg and Leslie told us all they had a surprise for us and to meet in the lobby.  We hovered around, waiting.  Greg came in carrying a chocolate cake.  White letters on the top of the cake read, “Congrats 1,000 miles Tom and Heidi.”
We sat in the lobby, eating cake, telling stories, laughing and enjoying each other’s company for one more brief moment before we all scatter to our regular lives.  It was the perfect ending to a perfect trip.
I loved every moment of the past two weeks.  The group was wonderful.  Greg and Leslie were amazing guides (and friends).  The scenery, the mileage, the climbing, the food, the weather, every single bit of is was wonderful.  This truly was the trip of a lifetime.  I would do it again tomorrow.  We are already planning next year’s tour, and I am already excited about it.  
Final stats:
Total mileage: 1,010.6
Total elevation gain: 62,221



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Heavy

  I keep wondering if I'm approaching my breaking point.  What does that look like? It's too much.  But I've been saying it's too much for a while now.  So when is it actually too much? I pushed "Send" and my text whooshed off to my best friend, Denise.  Three dots immediately popped up on my screen.   You're stronger than you think.  Tell your brain to shut up.  You got this! I smiled at her reply, even if I doubted her confidence. In August, my husband of 17 years died.  One day, he was alive, healthy, vibrant, and strong.  The next day, he was dead.  Just like that.  No warning.  No preparation.  In an instant, my world crumbled into a million tiny bits that flung themselves to the far corners of the solar system.  I couldn't fathom how to get through that day, or the next, or the next.  I remember thinking, What does November even look like?  Or next summer?  How do I even get there? ...

Delivery

  I met a friend at a coffee shop yesterday afternoon for our monthly catch-up.  I arrived first, and while I was placing my order, I saw a former client of mine.  We hadn't seen each other in quite a while, and greeted each other with smiles and a hug.   I know what's coming. We exchanged pleasantries and small talk.   Any minute now... She asked a few questions about how my work was going and told me about her workouts and what she had been doing.   Any second now... And then she asked it.  The question I knew was coming.   "How's your husband doing?" "My husband died."  No hesitation.  No preamble.  No introduction.   She recoiled, took a step back, hand on her chest, jaw wide open. "Oh my God," she stammered.  "I'm so sorry.  I don't...I can't...I'm so sorry." I gave her a sympathetic smile.  "I'm sorry," I offered.  "I'm still working on my delivery.  I'm not quite sure how...

Signs

  It was Tuesday, March 10, last week.  It was my 47th birthday.  It was the first birthday since Scott died.  It was the first birthday since my mom moved into memory care.  Shannon was in Oregon working.  The alarm went off that morning at 4:00 am.  I had to be out the door for dog walk by 4:45 to get to my first clients by 6:30.  At 4:30, I started getting ready.  Put on my walking clothes, layering appropriately.  Put on the glowing green dog collars.  Grabbed my flashlight so I could see where I was going in the heavy darkness that is 4:45 am.   The dogs and I headed across the pasture on the same route we've done nearly every day since Scott died, the same walk he had done nearly every day since we moved into our house.  We made our way along the creek, up the switchbacks, onto the bench behind the house.  As we walked, I was throwing myself a pity party.  Here I was, once again walking in the darkness...