Breck-68 race report

Race results

Race data

Having ridden in Breckenridge, Colorado the past 2 years on a recreational basis, I wasn't sure I'd ever want to race there. Coming from an elevation of 1,000 feet going to over 9,500 feet inside of the town and pretty much heading up anywhere else you ride is sure way to make you feel weak in the knees. Add in the challenge of the terrain being more technical than most of what we find in the midwest and you've got the recipe for some really fun riding, but a possible recipe for disaster when you start thinking about a race effort.

Adam and Jason ready to roll out:

An invite from Jason at the last quarter rage to possibly go race the Silver Rush 50 in Leadville and some subsequent follow up found me headed to Colorado. Another friend, Adam, was planning to go and race the Breck-68 that same weekend so we decided to all ride out together. I opted for the 68 over the Silver Rush based on some feedback about the 68 having better trails and more singletrack. Plus, I had ridden a number of the trails at least partially in the past 2 years and felt like I knew the area and terrain well enough that I at least had some idea of what to expect even though this by all counts looked to be the tougher of the two races.

I spent the next month trying to figure out how I was going to survive 68 miles of high elevation singletrack with 9,000' of climbing. I figured my best bet was to go at it with the same mindset that worked for me at Almanzo. Pace out my effort and try to ensure a finish within the alotted time. I knew there wasn't any way for me to truly put down a race type effort at those elevations, so I was much better off making sure I finished as my goal for the race. I've seen what altitude can do to friends when trying to put out a hard effort and it isn't pretty. I poured back over my rides from the past 2 years trying to piece together what gear and supplies I'd need to take with me. One alarming bit of info I figured out was that the longest distance I'd ever ridden out there was about 40 miles in a single day. Granted, we ride at a pretty casual pace, regroup often, and drop back to town for lunch, but still, I was about to double my biggest day.

Mountain High:

My usual gear for day tripping around Breck is a fully stocked 70oz camelback with all sorts of food and gear like first aid kit, emergency blanket, extra clothes, and repair parts. Add in a stocked bike with 2 more bottles and a loaded seat bag and you've got a lot of extra weight to lug around. I knew I had to pare that down to the minimum, but where would I draw the line between minimal gear that would get me through the race and not find me stranded along the trail somewhere. Having the opportunity to use drop bags gave me a little relief on how much I felt I needed to drag along on my back. I still went heavier than I needed to, but I felt safe about my choices. I stuck with a camelback with water, a wide selection of food choices in it, and a few minor odds and ends. I had 2 bottles of Accelerade on the bike, a spare tube, multi-tool, and a trio of the new 20 gram CO2 cartridges from Genuine Innovations. I also had their x-mount with a microflate nano and another cartridge on it. Considering I was rolling tubeless on a brand new set of Specialized Captains, I felt pretty safe when it came to flatting. Beyond that, its hard to really plan on all the things that Colorado trails can throw at a bike. I tried to prep minimally with a few small spare parts and a good multi-tool.

Bastardized Selma (gears and suspension) is ready to roll out:

After driving throught the night, Adam, Jason, and I hit ground zero around 6 in the morning arriving in Silverthorne. After we grabbed a quick bite for breakfast, we dropped some goods at our friend Andy's place and caught the rest of the tour stage for the morning. We finally geared up and hit the trails for a solid pre-ride of our first loop late in the morning. Reading the course notes I'd printed out, we hit a series of steep switchbacks out of Carter Park to start our ride. Nary a minute into our pre-ride and we're already maxing our efforts out hitting the switchbacks and puffing along. Adam was pretty sure we wouldn't have to do this route as they had started with a road climb before hitting the singletrack last year. Luckily he was right as only the guys doing the 100 mile course would have to climb the switchbacks.

Preride stop at Sally Barber Mine:

We rolled the first section of the course up to aid station 1 and rolled back to Breck mid afternoon. Finding ourselves ready for some sustenance, I suggested we hit up Fatty's pizza for a large pie and a pitcher. Feeling revived after our meal, we plotted out another short loop for Friday to recon a little more of the route before we hit packet pick up. We ended up doing a really short pre-ride of 45 or so minutes on Friday, but got a feel for the first small singletrack climb on loop 2 and were pretty comfortable with it.

Over a spectacular homemade lasagna dinner made by Adam's brother's fiancee on Friday evening, he and I plotted out some strategy. He was riding singlespeed and I opted to gear up my Selma for the race. His wave started a few minutes back of mine, but we decided to roll out together and stay together for the race to help pace and push each other. Soon enough, it was time to hit the sack and see if we could get some sleep. With our race not starting until later in the morning, we had the opportunity to sleep in a little and stop to grab some breakfast muffins on the way to the start. True to form, I could only choke down about half a sandwich, some juice, and not much else. I always fight to get a decent breakfast before a morning race start.

Race morning in Carter Park:

Adam and I got our gear together and rolled up to find his brother who was working as neutral race mechanic at Carter Park. We dropped some gear at his tent before doing some minor warm-up and finding our way over to the ice rink where we'd be starting. The initial rollout had us ascending Boreas Pass Road to a short cut off to hit the Barney Ford trail head. Finally we hit the road after watching the first 4 or so waves take off. We rolled about 20 strong with singlespeeders and some age groupers in our wave. Adam and I slotted ourselves near the front as we hit the slow climb. My legs didn't feel too bad right out of the gate, but mostly I was worried about warming them up thoroughly without hammering it too quickly and paying dearly for it hours down the road. As we neared the last push uphill before the turn to the trailhead, Adam was turning over his gear a bit faster than I was ready to spin and pulled out in front by a few riders. Just as we got near the turn, I had one rider in front and a bus pulling up next to me. Not sure what to do, I pushed the pace and passed the rider while shooting the gap between he and the bus so I could make the turn without getting hung up in all the riders we'd rolled past.

Adam hit the track about 4 or so riders in front of me trying to get some room to roll and keep his momentum. As soon as we hit the singletrack, the accordian effect started. We slowed way down and started the game of asking to pass or finding a way to take a line. I was pretty patient to begin with, but after being stopped a time or two on relatively easy terrain, I was ready to get after it a bit myself. Finally, we hit the open area of trail with a wider straight section and I jumped on the wheel of 2 other guys. We rolled past probably 10+ people in a short 1/2 mile or less section before we got back into the tight and twisty sections. As we rolled the next section of short and punchy climbs, traffic was still a bit backed up, but not quite as frustrating as before. I got around a few more riders and let a few others by, but I was riding everything pretty well as we rolled up to Sally Barber mine and our first nice downhill. Adam and gone ahead on this section and we'd planned a rendezvous at Aid 1.

I hit the descent and let it hang out as far as I dared. I love the fire road descents as they feel like they can go on forever. I knew we'd be paying soon enough though as the next section of trail contained a tough climb called Little French. At least having pre-ridden it on Thursday, I knew what was coming. I'd ridden probably 90% on that day and vowed I'd ride less of it for the race as to hopefully avoid cooking myself a scant 10 miles into the race. I rode where it felt good and walked where it felt better. I still passed some people and of course I got passed by some people, but I was sticking to the plan. As we got near the top of Little French, we jumped off on a flume trail that had our first real contour riding of the day as we'd just been going up or down until now. It was a bit of a relief to actually just pedal and ride at this point. It also didn't hurt knowing we had another killer downhill fire road at the end of this trail that would lead us into aid 1.

I watched Adam fly down this hill on our pre-ride and tried to lay off the brakes as much as possible. I found myself descending with a gal who was running pretty close to the same speeds as I. We were both whooping and hollering from the sheer thrill and fun. We were about halfway down when we came up on a dirt bike headed down as well. We were choking on his dust as he'd goose it and jump the water bars and then slow down to go in search of the next obstacle in the road. We were headed down faster than he was and had to wait for a few sections before we could finally sneak past him. I think we caught him a bit off guard as we headed by. Finally we rolled down to the aid station and I spotted Adam.

He was still smiling, but said he thought his day might be done. He'd rounded a corner on the last downhill and smacked into another dirt bike headed up the hill. His bike was essentially ok with a bent seat rail, but his ankle had taken a huge impact and was swelling rapidly. I filled my bottles back up and topped off my camelback. I also learned an important lesson at the same time. Pay close attention to what you use to fill your bottles and bladders if there is more than water available. While I got the water I needed to mix more Accelerade in my bottles, I accidentally filled my camelback with a watered down HEED mixture. I've found HEED to be a near sure fire way to cause me to bloat up and stop being able to race. So, I was down to my 2 bottles to get me to the next aid station where I could dump the mix and refill it with water.

Adam and I rode up to the start of the Colorado Trail section when he pulled to the side. I stopped to see if there was anything I could do. He said he was just going to try to work it out and go slow, but that I should head on. Seeing he was still moving, I decided it was my best bet to go ahead and move at my own pace. I'd ridden this section of the trail the previous year and knew I was in for a long, but not overly technical or hard climb before being rewarded with one of the best descents I've ever ridden. I swear those miles seemed to drag forever having a number of miles already in my legs and trying to grind my way up this long drag. I was passing some of the 100 mile riders in amongst the other 68 riders and also starting seeing the 32 mile guys go flying past on a regular basis. The 100 milers were pretty distinctive in their mud covered kits and hollowed out looks in their eyes. I was a bit envious of the 32 mile riders buzzing by and knowing they'd be done in a short 15 miles.

As we crested the hill and started into the meat of the descent, I found myself in a bit of an unfamiliar spot as I was actually outrunning people going down the hill. I think I descend pretty well, but these aren't my home trails and I'm trying to stay on the cautious side of speed. A few riders gave me the go ahead as we ran through the switchbacked descent and I let go of the brakes and felt the rush of speed take over. All too soon, I found myself at the bottom of the hill and rode into Aid 2 at the Dredgeboat trailhead. I took a pretty long break at this point and sat down long enough to get a quick recharge before I was able to get some fresh water into my camelback, stuff some food into my face, and reload my bottles. I was hoping if I rested long enough, Adam might pop back into view and we could hit the trail together. After 10 or 15 minutes, I knew I needed to roll and I hadn't seen him yet.

I rolled the last section of loop 1 headed back to the start/finish area at Carter Park. I really didn't know what to expect from this section as I didn't think I'd ridden any of it in previous trips. Luckily, this section didn't throw any hard climbs or overly technical sections at us. It still had plenty of climbing with a few short steep sections, but for the most part, it was relatively tame with some gravel and road climbing in a few areas along with some nice sections of singletrack. The clouds rolled in and we started to have some rain spit on me here and there as turned the pedals. It was clearing back up again as I headed into Carter Park for the end of my first loop.

Brutal lap 1:

Stats:

I rolled into the park and looked for Adam's brother to tell him about the accident. I drug out my supply bag and somewhat methodically re-filled my camelback with supplies in prep for the upcoming loop. I took a couple minutes to use the restroom and snap a quick picture of the loop 1 stats for a quick post to facebook letting my family know I was still kicking and getting ready to move out. After another 15 minutes or so, I was just getting ready to roll out when I saw Adam rolling in. He looked to be in pretty good spirits overall, but conceded his day was done for sure. Knowing I was on my own at this point, I quickly rolled back out and into the fray again.

I worked to get some food and water down before the climbing of loop 2 hit. I knew the first singletrack climb wasn't bad, but Indiana jeep road turned out to be a killer hike-a-bike for me as it really got steep, loose, and wet the higher we went. Finally, we topped out of that section and onto Boreas Pass Road a couple miles from the top. For the first time, I could see some riders heading back towards home from the lead pack of guys. I shouted encouragement to Kerkove who was having what looked to be a pretty solid day on the bike. Aid 5/7 was the next place I'd sent a drop bag figuring that since I had to hit it twice, I'd have a good supply to draw from. I think I ended up only grabbing a gel and maybe some shot blocks at this point. I did stop for a few minutes to grab a coke from the volunteers and ease my aching back once more.

The next section would be all new to me with a descent into Como on Goldust trail and then an old railroad grade gravel climb right back up to the top of Boreas Pass once again. I'd heard great things about descending Goldust from Andy and he was spot on. The first few sections were pure ear to ear grins and then we rolled into what appeared to be some type of dry creek bed. We snaked through the trees in a 3-4' deep depression that was about 8' wide for a couple of miles until we hit the most massive rock garden I've seen on a bike. Some of it was ridable, but a lot of it had you off and hefting your bike and self over some pretty large boulders and rocks. This went on for a good half mile or better on and off before slowly becoming less rocky and more ridable. Finally back on the bike, we had some more climbing before the final descent through some tight twisty woods into Como.

A short minute or two stop at this aid station had my bottles filled and a little beta received about the upcoming climb which was pretty much non-stop from Como all the way to the top of the pass. On the plus side, it was shallow at 6% +/- grade the whole way, but that also falls in a somewhat bad area for me as I struggle with longer climbs that are much over 5%. I hit the gas and took off out of town looking across the valley and seeing some rain and thunderclouds on the far side. I hoped they'd stay over there and not pour on me during the climb. I think I lost a fair bit of time on this section of course as I kept grinding away, but always felt like I wasn't pushing my potential ability. My stomach was backing up just a little and of course both my legs and back were aching away this far into the race. I passed a few guys, but I probably had 10+ riders pass me in the final couple of miles going up Boreas Pass road.

Finally, I spied the top of the climb after having a bit of a heavy sprinkle wet me down for the last mile or so. I knew it was basically a downhill back to the start and I was familiar with the terrain as it was all on trails I'd ridden. I cranked up the big ring all the way to the Bankers Tank uphill and turned in. There was just a short bit of climbing before we could rail our way down to the lower trail head which I tackled with abandon. The last bit of technical singletrack was in the form of Aspen Tunnel which had me a little nervous as it has a very loose rock descent followed up by a giant slag pile drop. As luck would have it, enough riders had burned in a trail that the loose rocks were basically a non-issue by this time and they routed us to the side of the slag pile which was rocky, but a bit less dramatic of a drop as going over the nose of the hill.

I knew I was headed home at this point unless I did something stupid to crash myself out in the last mile or two. I kept my speed up, but safe and just enjoyed the flow of the singletrack and woods as I lined my way out to the finish. By the time I finally hit the switchbacks to Carter Park, 9 hours had rolled by and a good chunk of the finishers had cleared out. There was still a pretty good pack of people waiting and cheering though which is always nice to roll in and hear.

Just rolled across the finish line:

That hurt:

Back to smiling:

All told I had clocked off 70 miles and just short of 9,000' of climbing for the day. I finished a little disappointed with 27th out of 30 finishers in my class. I'm not sure how many DNF'ed. I do know that while I was tired, I left a lot of time on the table in the form of rest stop speed (54 minutes off the bike) and overall effort in some of the longer climbing sections. I think I've got an 8 or even sub 8 hour finish in me with just a couple tweaks. The biggest thing will be to race without a camelback. It absolutely killed my low back. Nothing I had in there couldn't be carried some other way and the aid stations are close enough for me that I could go with bottles only. I'm hoping to hit it again next year and see if I can't get a better finish. I'm still not sure I'd ever race the SS out there, but I'm not ruling it out either.

Oofda:

Click Click

My favorite ride of 2010 was simple. Man and machine versus man and machine. Simple. Fun. Hurt.

We'd climbed the serpentine wall once all ready that day. We'd dallied and waited for the rest of the group the first time. Now, it was man and machine versus altitude, grade, and grind. Click. Everyone that has thrown a leg over a bike and turned a pedal stroke in anger knows that sound. Its the sound of pain about to come your way, the simple, painful, sound of a mere stroke of the silken gear lever. Your hands never seem to understand the fear your legs feel when they caress the gears. Every little movement they make increases the hurt shooting through your body and exiting the pedals.

Click. Dammit, there he goes again. We've hit the gravel. 10,000 feet above sea level is a memory and 11,000 has come and gone. 12,000 is looming. The air is thin for a couple of Iowa Boys. Oxygen depletion makes me think I can hold his wheel. Somehow, I stay on it. The seconds tick by like hours. I don't know if I dare peak to see how hard we're riding. I fall of the pace for a scant second and a gap opens. I find a little more and dig deeper from somewhere else. The road relentlessly turns skyward on us. We're not on singletrack, but the roughness of the road leaves us searching far and wide for smooth lines. He finds one, I take another. We're both breathless from the effort. My legs scream, I can't get any more air. I'm out.

I manage to call out that I'm done. The pace doesn't let up, yet I don't fall off. We just stop accelerating the pace for a moment. My adversary, my friend, my challenger, he's given me mercy. I'm thankful. I wouldn't call it recovery, but reprieve is mine. I pull tight on his wheel. I move along side. We climb in silence, each appreciative of the effort it requires to maintain the pace. Slowly, I pull to take my turn at the front.

Click. Its my turn to repay the pain. I struggle and surge feeling the effort sapping my legs. We struggle against the elevation and grade. It seems like we've been attacking each for hours, when in reality its merely minutes. I feel a small surge in power.

Click. I hit it again. The screws turning ever so slightly tighter. He's still there. Still holding my wheel. I don't have anything left. My head is swimming. There isn't enough oxygen. We've used everything and we're running on deficit. I see the end. The road flattens ever so slightly. I press harder than ever on the pedals. I'm not sure where I'm drawing strength from.

Finally. He calls out that he's done. The end is in sight. We've equally taken out each other. We reach the finish with equal footing. The most vivid ride of the entire year took less than 30 minutes. I put everything I had out there and when I was done it was all I needed. That was it. That was the ride. Thanks.

My own Breck epic- day 3 and 4

On day 3 in Breck we listened to the rain come down most of the night and by morning it wasn't looking much better with a cold drizzle falling off and on. There appeared to be some fresh snow on a few peaks as well. With the day essentially shot for riding, we decided to head over to the Coors Brewery in Golden for a tour. After stalling and repeated stops and starts we finally headed out late morning for the hour drive over. Lunch was the first order of business with some pretty decent Chinese at a great price. I think it was the cheapest meal we ate all week. After lunch, it was on to the tour.

Here's the only time during the week that I really needed my ID (and wanted it as well). My sob story didn't do much to convince the seemingly sympathetic gal at the check in desk and I was denied the wrist band that allows for 3 tasty beverages upon completion of the tour. We grabbed our electronic tour guides and quickly wandered our way through the halls of the brewery before we were finally dumped out into the sampling area. I sipped my root beer as the rest of our crew took turns downing a couple brews. Luckily one kind soul didn't want all of his sampling and scored me 1 free drink, so all was not lost.

After the brewery, we decided to hike around downtown Golden for a bit and check out the various bike shops. We wandered into 3 shops and only 1 gave off a friendly vibe as we pondered the various goods they were showcasing. We headed back to Breck and found our way to Empire Burger for some seriously good grub at dinner time. Being Taylor's birthday we weren't quite done at that point and headed out to see if we could kill some time in various drinking establishments. The first bar was your basic hole in the wall and after some creepy vibes from an overly friendly drunk, I was glad we headed out. The second bar had a much better scene with a lot of younger people doing the beer pong thing as we looked on. I even managed to score a few games of pool to blow the dust off my skills. By that time, we needed to wind down the evening in hopes of hitting it hard on our last day with Andy playing tour guide.

Day 4 map and info

We met Andy at the gondola parking lot at the prescribed time. It was chilly out and we weren't quite sure what the day had in store for us with regards to weather, saddle time, or routing so we were all pretty much loaded for bear at that point.

Friday morning dawned bright and chilly.

The first route we were taking would have us hitting the Colorado trail until it met up with Peaks trail where we'd downhill back into Frisco. The nice thing about Colorado is that even when its in the 40's in the morning, you can turn up hill at any given time and build a lot of heat quickly. Sure enough, Andy routed us straight up as we headed towards Peaks trail. We started out in the rolling meadows and pine needle single tracks.

Meadow riding at the start:

As per our typical mode of riding, the higher we got, the rockier it got. Pretty soon, Andy and I were mostly off the front and grunting up a few power climbs littered with rocks. I was feeling good and upped the tempo just slightly riding off the front. We regrouped a few times along the climb. I stopped at the top of this rock garden feeling pretty good about cleaning it to snap a few shots of the guys grunting their way through.

Rock garden action:

Enjoying the climb:

Once to the top of the mountain, we connected back into the downhill section of Peaks trail where the rider had attempted to kill me on day 1. Knowing the trail a bit better this time, we all gained some speed on the descent and had a blast as we flew down the trail. Even the steps were no surprise this time and led to some serious grins all around as we hit Frisco. Our choices were pretty open at this point, but we could see that some weather would soon be upon us.

We opted to hit the paved trail around Dillon Reservoir and into Keystone so Andy could show us some of his home base stomping grounds in the form of the Red Trail. The paved trail was pretty cool with going across the dam and getting some good views of the reservoir.

Going across the dam:

As we worked our way through Keystone and started up the Red Trail, we were met by the most biker's we'd seen all week (other than on paved trails). It was some type of junket for bike mags that appeared to be sponsored by Giant as they were all riding some full suspension variant of Giant. All told there were 20 some riders headed down as we were coming up. We hit some pretty sweet spots along here including some great sidehilling action that was good for a pucker factor.

Alas, the weather wasn't going to hold forever and we started to get rained on. We made a pit stop in the cover of some pines and broke out our rain gear along with some food.

Rain break #1:

From here, we continued on up the hill which was now a bit more slick with the rain having soaked the trail. At least it was still ridable and we weren't tearing things up which wouldn't have been the case here in Iowa. We continued up and the rain let up on us as we hit some spots pretty similar to our climbs on the Burro trail with sections of nothing but rock punctuated with flatter sections of dirt and rock. We finally started hitting rain again and the decision was made to head back down as it looked like it was going to be set in for a while.

Posing somewhere along the trail:

As we started our downhill, the rain picked up to a pretty steady downpour. I quickly noted that the cheaper raincoat I'd decided to bring today did not have waterproof sleeves and my arms were soon soaked and shivering. Now we had what I can only describe as one of the most unforgettable moments of the whole trip. The rain was pouring on us and we were descending like a group of madmen down the mountainside. The rain was running down the center of the trail in the exact line that we most wanted to take. We rode the rain line and hoped that there were no hidden rocks, sticks, or other nasties waiting to throw us headlong into the woods. My adrenaline level soared as we went further and further down before we were finally spit out on the trail in one piece. We did come across one guy just after the downhill that needed a bit of help as he was on his 2nd flat repair of the day.

Helping out:

By this point, we were all a bit on the muddy side and getting pretty cold so we opted off the dirt and onto the road descent the rest of the way to Highway 9. We hit some pretty fast speeds as we wound our way down the tarmac and towards the paved trail back to Breck. Once we hit the trail and knew we were closing in on home, it was time to smile again.

Muddy but happy:

We found our way back to town and started the packing process. The bikes were coated with a nice layer of grime and grit so we hosed them down before loading them up for the trip home.

Ready for a bath:

We rounded up all our gear and got it loaded up for the long drive home. Taylor, Kyle and I were headed out that afternoon while Chuck and Kurt opted to stay overnight before heading back. We all made our way over to Empire burger for some additional refueling before hitting the road. One long ass drive and we were back in the 515 about the time the sun was dawning on a new day. I had an unforgettable time and it was made all the better sharing it with some great friends. Thanks guys!

My own Breck Epic- day 2

Map and ride info

The start of day 2 looked a bit on the chilly side. I thought for sure I was going to need some extra warmth, so I donned my arm warmers and jacket. Our first stop was a small pump track up on Boreas Pass road where we all tried (and failed) to make it around the entire track without pedalling. We got pretty close, but I didn't see anyone make the one big bump without needing a little extra oomph.

Heading towards the pump track:

After playing around and warming up a bit, I knew the jacket was going to be over the top for sure. We started up the singletrack out of the pump track parking lot and headed up. We road some urban singletrack through some more populated areas and eventually wound our way out to Highway 9 and paralleled it for a bit. We finally came to the turnoff to head up Boreas Pass Road and found ourselves confronted with the choice of another section of singletrack (going straight up) or road to ride. After a bit of discussion, we hit the dirt and headed up. Pretty quickly it became evident that hike-a-bike would most likely be the best case scenario for these flatlanders as the trail turned from fun climbing to steep and less than ridable (for us). A few sprinkles starting hitting us in this section and we took a collective vote that we were here to ride whether that meant pavement or singletrack rather than push our bikes up hills. We turned and headed back to the pavement. I was treated to a pretty cool switchback climb that headed up and up until we got to the park service road at the top.

I rolled in a few minutes after Kyle and was nothing but smiles:

From the park service road we jumped back on singletrack through some sections of the Colorado trail that Andy had led the guys through earlier in the week. This was probably some of the sweetest track we ran while I was out there. It had a bit of everything from flat, to climbs, to rocks and roots. Kyle and I checked out a bit on some of these sections and had time to stop and ponder the scenery at a couple points as we waited to regroup.

Old mining ruin on the climb up:

As we crested the climb, we were treated to more downhilling. Sitting on my hardtail, I was faster than the previous day, but still no match for the full suspension bikes so we stopped once more to regroup on the way down.

Overlooking Breck on the way down:

From here we hit a nice switchbacked road and the boys really let loose. I hit a little over 30 mph, but they had to be closing in on 40 as they accelerated out of site. From here we hit some nice black diamond sections of trail. Supposedly this is the more advanced stuff, but other than being tight and twisty (think Denman's on a downhill with rocks and roots), it really wasn't that bad. Somewhere in here, the other Rick lodged his foot between a rock and a hard place- literally. It didn't stop him or pop him off the bike, but the damage was definitely done as his foot swelled and turned nasty colors during the remainder of our trip. The guys also made sure to drag me through the "north shore" section of elevated trails that had been built as a bit of a playground. I'm not much on skinnies or elevated platforms, but with enough goading, I gingerly made my way up and through the easy section.

North shore style:

As evidenced by my heart rate jumping 20 beats per minute just going through that, I wasn't too excited about doing it again. Once through was plenty for me and fun to say I'd done it once. By then, it was closing in on lunch time and looking like possible rain again. We dropped back into Breck on this wild track that seemed to resemble a luge track more than singletrack. The grade was steep, the turns were complete bowls and if you had the balls, you could absolutely fly. Let's just say I get my nuts firmly in check on that descent, but still had fun!

Lunch was beckoning us:

Lunch time brought a brief shower through the area, but nothing to keep us off the trails. We decided to check out Burro Trail after lunch since Taylor had ridden it previously and thought it was pretty fun. The start was just up from the condo and some nice lady even managed to point out the trail head we were searching for. The lower section was sweet pine track with some good rooty sections and as we gained elevation, it turned to rocks. We started hitting some nice rock gardens and then the challenge was put down. Kyle and Taylor remembered this big rock garden from a previous trip that had them both trying again and again to get through. As well as I'd been riding the rocks (thanks 29'er), they wanted to see if I could tame this section of trail.

Almost to the top:

Apparently, there used to be two large log crossings in here as well. In any case, I cleaned it the first pass and then Taylor decided since he didn't see it, I should do it again. The 2nd pass was cleaned as well. I was definitely digging on the rocks. As we kept on climbing, the route would alternate between steep and long sections of all rock uphills and then flatten out for a bit with less rocks and more dirt. I was really enjoying this section of trail as it was challenging and technical, but definitely ridable. However, along this point, lunch decided it was time to make it's 2nd calling for the day.

Good riding fuel, bad pass through timing:

I definitely wasn't feeling the love by the time we flattened out and came to a fork in the road. With a possible wild descent coming up, I decided it was time to make like a bear in the woods. I garnered a bit of flack for it, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Wow, what a load off my mind!

At this point, the rain and clouds were threatening again, and worse yet, threatening to turn the descent nasty. We decided it was time to call it a day and let the fun really begin. To someone who's never been there or done it, it's hard to describe how fun, thrilling, and wild, careening down the side of a mountain as fast as your brake fingers will let you go can be. The upper sections were a bit slow, but as we hit the pine forest below, most of us were flying and grinning from ear to ear. It was an absolute blast that left a smile plastered on my face the rest of the day.

We wound our way back to the condo to wind down the day with some pizza at Fatty's (6 of us devoured 3 large pizzas) and some brews. Another cap to an amazing day.

My own Breck Epic- prologue and day 1

Oh sure the title may be a bit over the top, but my trip to Breckenridge for the first (and hopefully not the last) time was definitely epic and memorable to me. The prologue came in the form of a few guys putting together a week of biking and whatever mischief could be mustered in a rented condo for a week in Breck. One more slot was open and through some sort of cosmic alignment I was able to fill it. Fast forward to the week before we leave and now my grandma is in hospice care and things are looking a bit "iffy". Grandma indeed passes away and I'm to be a pall bearer in her funeral. I'm honored to do it, but it precludes me leaving on Friday night with the rest of the gang. I load my bike and gear with everyone else on Friday and bid them adieu. I secured my transfer out there via Greyhound bus leaving Monday evening after the funeral.

Now I've travelled Greyhound before. Its not the end of the world and certainly not my favorite way to travel, but in all, its good for the cost. The epic portion of my trip started less than 2 hours into the ride out when I realized my money clip with ID, credit cards, and cash were indeed missing. I searched my person, bag, and the bus thoroughly to no avail which left me believing I was pick pocketed most likely before I even left the terminal. I now was down to about 38 cents to my name and still had another 14 hours of bus travel left. I have to say I received a number of encouraging texts and even a call or two offering to help out any way they could. The guys rang and said to get my butt out there and all would be fine as there was more than enough money to buy beer! Thanks for the support!

Midway into the trip, I dubbed the bus home sweet hell:

The rest of the trip was a blur of trying to get some sleep, transferring buses in Denver and then gazing at the scenery was we wound our way towards Frisco where the guys would be waiting. As we rolled into the parking lot around 9:30, I scanned for the truck. Indeed the guys were ready and waiting to ferry me back to the condo for our adventure to begin.

Ride map and info.

By noon we were off and rolling after I had hauled my junk up 3 flights of stairs and scarfed down some real food. Our first foray for the day was to take the Peaks Trail from Breckenridge to Frisco. I'd been forewarned of the altitude issues I'd face of being short on air, energy, and general ability. As we turned up the paved hill to the trail, I found a groove, but noted it was roughly two-thirds of what I thought I should be functioning at. There's no way around altitude! The Peaks trail was a nice beginning with some rocky and rooty sections separated by rough bridges and smooth pine forest tracks. As we descended into Frisco the first and only real jerk of the trip showed his colors by attempting to rip past us on a fast downhill. I heard callouts of left, right, and a bunch of jumbles only to start to turn right to avoid a large puddle as a biker came barreling down on me. I quick dab of the foot into a deep puddle (soaking my whole foot), a few words exchanged, and we were back on our way. The rest of the downhill was a blast and punctuated at the end with some steep step downs that were fun to ride.

The rest of the day is a bit hazy, but definitely gave me a trial by fire. We road the paved trail from Frisco to Copper Mountain. We made a pit stop along the way to fuel up for what we knew was going to be a challenging climb ahead.

Lunch break

Start of Wheeler Trail:

The first sections of trail were pretty ridable and not overly steep. As we started to gain more elevation, we'd hit spots of trail that were too steep or too rock strewn to ride. Eventually, this gave way to more rocks and more steepness. Eventually, we would all hike-a-bike over 50% of the trail. at just over 2.5 miles in length, the average gradient ended up being over 16.5% with most of the last mile or so being over 20% grade. In case you're wondering, that's damn steep! Most of the time I was walking on my toes and the balls of my feet to create enough leverage to push my bike up the slopes. Finally, we made it above tree line only to discover a chilling wind and the threat of rain to be upon us.

Nearing the top, looking back at Chuck (the fluorescent blob):

Kyle and the other Rick were the first to the summit with me dragging up a good 5-10 minutes back. They had found a place to wait out the minutes for the remaining 3 chasers. It took me several minutes to snap a picture of my bike against the sign as the wind was so strong, it continually blew it down.

Final destination- 12,400':

Finally, it was time to descend. I'm not sure why, but I never snapped a picture of the singletrack descent. Either my mind was toast due to lack of oxygen and over exertion or I was too damn scared to think about taking a picture of what I was about to take on. I started the descent gingerly and made it to the fist nasty drop/switchback. At this point in time, I decided, I walk down to a slightly less intimidating portion only to realize my left foot was now stuck to my bike due to losing a screw from my cleats on the hike to the summit. Luckily I was basically stopped and could fall against the mountain side (only a foot or so away). I worked a good 10 minutes or so getting my shoe unlodged from the pedals and now was faced with the fact I couldn't clip back in without fear of being stuck on the bike when I might need to make a hasty exit. Considering the steepness of the trail and my apprehension about riding it in a fully functional mode, it made the decision to walk that chunk a no-brainer. Actually, I think almost all of us walked that portion and a good chunk of the remaining alpine sidehill we had to traverse.

Finally we came to the jeep trail/fire road section of the descent. Still unable to clip/unclip as needed, I mounted up and rode my brakes down the loose rocky section of jeep trail with my left foot resting on the pedal not clipped in and my legs taking the brunt of the force required to keep my foot from slipping off. Indeed, I was cramping up just staying on the bike on the downhill! As we finally came to a more groomed gravel portion of the road, we regrouped. Kyle suggested fixing my cleat with a bottle cage screw and it actually worked. Now I could clip in, however I had to be a bit careful of the now too long screw poking me in the bottom of the foot. I gained speed on this descent, but the rest of the guys flew away in excess of 30 mph on the downhill as we slalomed our way back to Breck.

We were grinning from ear to ear as we hit the edge of town and pedalled off in search of a bike shop to help with some woes including a broken spoke, destroyed shoes, and my cleat issue. On top of that, as we started to crank the pedals, Kurt's crank arm literally detached from the bottom bracket leaving him with quite a befuddled look as it was still clipped to his shoe. Luck must have been smiling as that would have meant almost sure disaster on the downhill we'd done literally minutes before. Luckily it was nothing more than a screw coming loose and we fixed it before heading on our way.

With sushi and a big beer in my belly for dinner, it wasn't long before I was sawing logs and dreaming of what day 2 might hold.