Trip to Colorado and the USA Pro Cycling Challenge

Within a week of the announcement that the USA Pro Cycling Challenge was set and scheduled, I was making plans to come out to Colorado, my old stomping grounds, to see my girls and enjoy some Pro Tour level bicycle racing.  I've been racing and riding bikes since 1984 but have had little exposure to the European professional cycling scene.  The USA Pro Cycling Challenge was promising to bring big time Euro racing to Colorado and there was no way I was going to miss this.

As it turned out, my oldest daughter Julia had flown out to spend time in Little Rock with me about a week prior and was I able to convince her to join me for the drive to Colorado.  One of the advantages of having an 18 year old daughter is she gets to do her fair share of driving!

Once in Colorado, I was able to get a good nights sleep and wake up before the girls so I could squeeze in a short ride.  I rode over to a local coffee shop for what turned out to be an fantastic Latte before a relaxing spin on my Orbea road bike.

Finished my coffee and was looking forward to a ride with temps in the 60's and no humidity (not something we get to enjoy in Arkansas in August.) I hadn't been on my bike for more than five minutes when this yellow jacket (pictured above) flew into my jersey and started stinging me on the chest.  Yes, it hurt like a Mofo.  I got the little bugger out before he could sting me for the 8th time.  This is the shot of him just before his ultimate demise at the sole of my Giro shoe.

After licking my wounds and kissing my girls goodbye, I drove up to my dad and stepmother's house in Crested Butte for a few days of riding and playing at high altitude.  I was lucky enough to have a few friends from Little Rock staying very close to my Dad's house which would end up making this trip even better than originally expected.

Monday, I rode from Crested Butte to Gunnison, and back, with my dad and a friend of his, Tim.  Beautiful day and the legs were responding well in spite of the previous two days of driving and 9k+ foot elevation change.  Tuesday morning arrived clear and as perfect as summer in Colorado can be.  David, Dave, Hunter (my friends from Little Rock) and I did a short mtn bike ride up Strand Mtn before packing up and getting ready for the first stage of the USAPCC which was finishing at the ski area on Crested Butte Mtn.

After a lunch of pizza and lots of water, we rode from downtown CB up the final climb to the stage finish, spent some time at the Expo (which you can see in the background of this photo) and found a great place to plop our butts down and watch the incredible finale.  You can see Levi winning this stage in grand fashion... alone and in front of a world class field.

Hunter East, Me, Dave Grundfest and David Snowden posing at the expo in CB.  I know, corny as hell, but had to be done.  Right after this shot we were on our way to Aspen for the next day's stage.

Hunter watching the BMC mechanics work their magic after the race.

After another night above 9,000 feet and very little sleep at Hunters new home in Snowmass, we woke up to a beautiful morning and stuffed ourselves with breakfast in Aspen in anticipation of our ride up Independence Pass.  The plan was to ride up, watch the race come over the pass, and ride back down after the race caravan had passed through.  We had less than a mile into the oxygen-less 17 mile climb from Aspen to IP, when skies opened up and the rain started coming down in big, fat, cold drops.  Apparently rain wasn't enough of an insult to our ride so mother nature decided to throw in some hail just to make the already difficult climb a little more challenging.  If you have never experience rain in Colorado, there is no such thing as a warm summer rain... this is especially the case at 10,000 feet!  It was a good thing we were riding uphill or we would have been in dangerous proximity to hypothermia.  No matter, we were going to make it to the top if it killed us... which was a good possibility given how the weather was panning out.

We were only a few miles into the climb when our group started to split.  Hunter was feeling good and wanted to get a decent workout in so he started riding a strong tempo which quickly left Dave and David looking at each other and, smartly so, deciding to ride their own pace.  I was feeling strong and decided to ride with Hunter.  However, after a couple of miles I started thinking about the race I had coming up on Saturday morning in Texas and made the executive decision to slow it down a bit and ride an easy rhythm the rest of the way to the top. Recovering after a hard ride at high altitude is a big challenge so giving the legs a rest seemed like the smart thing to do at the time... well, that's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

I was feeling so good and having so much fun I was literally smiling all the way up the pass.  I was trying to pass along my good cheer to all of the other hardy souls as I rode by them up to IP but most had little to say and did not appear all that happy about how their rides were going.  Oh well, a little suffering never hurt anyone and I just couldn't contain my joy on this great day.  Besides, I've had more days of intense suffering for hours on end while training and racing and I wasn't going to let everyone else's leg pain ruin my day. So the smiles and cheerful greetings continued all the way to the top. I ended up riding the 17 miles to the pass in two hours and arrived at a huge outdoor party.  By the way, it obviously doesn't take much alcohol to get completely snockered at over 12k feet.  People were partying in the middle of the road dressed in crazy costumes and feeling no pain.  The crowd was huge and everyone was having a great time.

David Snowden enjoying the only 5 minutes of sunshine on Independence Pass this day.

I never found Hunter in the huge crowd but did manage to find Dave and David not long after I reached the top.  We scrounged a place to sit on the exposed rock and sand and proceeded to watch the storm clouds developing overhead, which made me nervous as hell.  I've learned the hard way that 12k feet and storms don't mix well with exposed humans.  I decided to ride back down the pass while the rest of the gang chose to take their chances with the impending storm so they could experience the race and crazy fans as the peloton passed over the top.  I started my descent and was the only cyclist on the road when the pre-caravan team cars start  passing me.  I was both elated and scared to death with the way they were coming around me on this not so straight road.  The road was rough, it was cold and I was going as fast as I could down that mountain.  I felt like I was in the Tour de France with the BMC, Garmin and other team cars whizzing past me.  I was hoping, nay, praying, they were all skilled drivers and picking their moments carefully to come around me on the sharp bends. Most of the left side of the road dropped off the side of the mountain so steeply that a fall over the edge would have required a mountain rescue crew to find and recover my body.  Now was not the time for me or one of these team cars to screw up.I made it to the bottom of the mountain in time to change into dry clothes and watch the finish.

The next day (Thursday) started with another road ride with Hunter, but this time in pure uninterrupted sunshine. Dave and David opted for a big effort on their mtn bikes instead.  After our ride, I dropped Hunter off at the airport and drove back to the front range to see my girls before the long haul  to Arkansas the following day.  Friday morning I found myself driving back to Little Rock having decided I was too wiped out from 9 hours of riding at altitude (all above 9k feet) and 2k miles of driving, so far.  With yet another 12 hours of windshield time to get to my race... which was scheduled to start at 6:30 a.m the next morning (Saturday) there was no way I was going to be at my best for the race so I cut my losses and soldiered home.  14.5 hours later I was in my bed and most likely snoring like a big man.

It was a fantastic week and one I hope to replicate next year.  I don't often get a chance to take vacations and spend them without a lot of personal obligations.  It was a perfect week off work which left me pleasantly pooped from all of the action.  I guess its a good thing when we need a vacation just to recover from our vacation. -jd