Adventure over workout, every time

Trail Ridge Road — Before it’s opened for cars

After an incredibly rainy and snowy spring — including several late-May storms — we’ve finally made it to summer, and even had a few of those TOO hot days. (I consider anything above 80-degrees too hot). The entire state is anywhere from 200-700% saturated, and some of the passes have just barely opened to car traffic. One of my favorite things to do is bike up high and see the huge walls of snow. I went a few miles past Rainbow Curve on Trail Ridge Road at the end of May, and it was other-worldly.

We also recently made the trek down to Watershed Ranch, and I biked Independence Pass on the first full day that it was open to Aspen. It’s one of the most beautiful and most fun passes to ride. Mostly a gradual climb for 17 miles, with a slightly steeper final push. The views are just nonstop amazing. This year, because of the tremendous amount of snow, there were several sections of avalanche damage. It makes the power of the snow really clear. Entire sections of forest turned to matchsticks.

Watershed Ranch

One thing I’ve continued to notice about myself — especially when friends and people I follow on Strava and elsewhere post about zones and numbers — is that I don’t care about working out at all. I’ve always thought trainers and treadmills were ridiculous. I’ll bike in 17-degrees and run below zero. I’ll get up at 4am to beat the heat. Because I care a lot about adventure. I want to climb the highest peak. I want to go a little farther and maybe even sometimes a little faster. But damn. I do not care about monitoring my heart rate.

Independence Pass — First day open for the season

Yesterday I took the new Moots (such an insanely amazing bike) up Old Fall River Road, and down Trail Ridge. I didn’t see a single other person on the road, and thought most of the time about what I would do if I came upon a bear. I sang to myself a lot.

I’ve got some events coming up that I’ve been “training” for, but I think I’m finally ready to admit that I’m more a wake-up-early, grab-a-Clif-bar-and-go kind of person. I’d much rather be the first one at a trailhead, and discover some stunning view, than tow the start line at any race. I like to push myself, but generally, I’d rather do something impressive alone than with a number pinned on my chest. A mountain sunrise always beats a t-shirt and a participant medal.

Old Fall River Road — before cars are allowed on for the season

Get up high, is what I’m saying. Find the snow and the views and the adventure. Maybe think more about sticking your feet in the cold creek at the end of a tough hike, than about those zones on your device.

Ready for the warm-up

This is my third winter in Colorado, and it’s been the most brutal, though I still can’t complain. We’ve had plenty of days in the 50s and 60s. But we’ve also had pretty consistent (weekly) snowfall. And a LOT of single-digit mornings. I’ve bike-commuted my 35-mile trip to Boulder MANY times, with tons of layers, hand-warmers, foot-warmers, and eventually completely frozen water bottles. The last time I did the commute was a week ago during the first of several 15-degree “freezing-fog” days. It was maybe the coldest I’ve ever been. Honestly, it broke me a little. I’ve had no urge to do the morning commute since. In fact, I may not ride in the morning until it’s solidly in the 30s or 40s. Something about that frozen moisture got to my bones.

Cycling in the cold is different from any other activity in the cold, in my experience. Just a few days ago I ran 9 miles in 0-degree (but sunny) weather. It felt great! And I can ski for several hours in wind and snow and not really be bothered. (Though, I’m spoiled as a gear-tester for Backpacker Magazine to get some of the best ski jackets that money can buy…for free). Cycling, though, especially with a headwind, is something entirely different. Overall, what I’ve learned this season is, sun changes everything — sun plays by a different set of rules. Anything is possible with full-sun and low wind. And grey skies with headwind will always crush your soul.

But we’ve made it to March. The days are more than 11-hours of light. And the recent dumping of snow means phenomenal spring flowers are in the making. I’ve still got 2 trips to Eldora on my pass, and am looking forward to some of those classic spring bluebird days. Soak it up, Colorado. Only a few more weeks and we’ll barely remember the cold, dark, mind-numbing commutes of the winter. Despite the intensity of the weather, I still can’t imagine not biking year-round. There’s always something to be gained from being outdoors. I’ve (almost) never regretted getting out in it. Anyone can ride a trainer in front of a fan and a TV inside. Climbing slick streets to see the Flatirons and pine trees dusted with snow — that’s something special, every time.