Three zeros

On Friday evening, history was made. It may not have mattered to anyone but myself. The cows sure didn't seem to care. Caroline at least willingly snapped a few photos before starting to shiver in the chilly twilight air. But I was quite happy to surpass the milestone of of 1,000 hours of pedaling this year. Never before had I tallied a thousand hours of total training in a single year, and strangely, for the first year since I bought my first road bike when I was 13, I don't think I rode on skinny tires once. Mountain bikes have completely taken over. And earlier in the day, I gradumutated (for the last time, I swear), to boot! Then I did some math and realized that there are not even 9,000 hours in a year. How did all that fit into a single year?

After a weekend of relatively balmy temperatures, I awoke this morning to low clouds and sub-freezing temperatures. I grabbed my Horsethief and headed into the foothills for what may have been the last ride on my favorite trails. The lower sections were skating rinks, but a bit higher, the snow and ice disappeared, and the muck from the weekend was replaced by high-friction, ice cemented gravel.

Soon the snow began to fall, and into the clouds I rode. It was completely still and entirely silent, save the grinding of my tires in the dirt, the strained chattering of my chain, and the thumping of my heart as it labored to keep my muscles going. And I had the trails completely to myself.

The spectacular views routinely offered by the summit were completely absent. The contrast of scorched tree trunks draped in mist was enough to preoccupy my thoughts as I strapped on my pads. Then without further delay, I launched into the fog and relished one last run back down into the canyon. I'm really going to miss this ride.

Winter.

Winter has arrived to the Front Range. Trails are blanketed with snow. The dirt roads along the western margin of the Great Plains are mucky when the sun warms them and frozen the rest of the day. Adjusting to the more limited riding opportunities of this time of year always provides a bit of a mental challenge.

But this year, I've got a new tool (toy?) to help combat the winter riding blues. A Salsa Mukluk. I built it up with both snow and dirt riding challenges in mind, so it's a bit of a unique setup. But it seems to be working just well for some winter exploration of trails that were previously relegated to the snowshoe realm for me. 

I spent six hours on Saturday pedaling along Peak to Peak Highway checking out all the possible riding areas. No snowmobilers had yet been out on their rather limited trail network, so while options were limited for good snow riding, I still found plenty.

These included a narrow canyon incised into the foothills, some well packed snowshoe trail, and a few roads that are closed to motorized use during the winter months. That created a nice mix of riding on a beautiful afternoon.

But this is not to say that there is no other good winter riding to be had in the area. Yesterday I joined a group of local MTB hammers for a hard training ride (photos from Jeff Kerkove). We rode the same loop as we had a couple weeks ago, linking up 60 miles of mostly dirt roads through the foothills with more than 8k' of climbing. I guess this means the cob webs have been worked out of the legs and that it's time to start thinking about training and racing goals for 2012. Hmm...

I also got everyone hooked on warm, caffeinated chocolate gas station drinks. These are tough to beat in the middle of chilly winter rides!

Saying goodbye to the Granite Goblins

We've had a decent run of warm November weather, but with an impending winter storm (which has now dumped 7" of white annoyance on my front porch), I felt the need to get out and pay one last visit to my favorite trail network. With most of the trails at 7 to 8k in elevation and many north-facing sections, I wasn't sure that the snow from the storms from the beginning of the month would have melted off completely yet. Alexis and I played hooky and headed up to investigate.

I was right to be a bit worried about trail conditions. There was snow. Lots of it. But it thanks to a few hikers, a cyclist or two, and many deer, the singletrack was packed and mostly rideable. The steep climbs required some delicate balance and paddlewheeling, but the traction on the descents was rather incredible, letting the tires hold firm until right when it was time to kick the rear end around through a switchback.

There was also some ice.

But there was also some rock.

Lots of rock. 

And a little bit of air.

But mainly lots of snow. And now it's a winter wonderland up there, most likely until everything melts out in the spring. It's been fun...I'm sure going to miss this place.