Passing Hoosier Pass

Thursday, August 10. Fairplay, CO to Dillon, CO.

Today's the day we climbed Hoosier Pass. It's 12 miles from Fairplay, climbing nearly 1500 feet. The storm that rolled through Fairplay last night really cooled things off, and so we started out wearing extra layers. Matthew wore tights over his shorts, and a windbreaker over his jersey; I added socks and a long-underwear top to my usual riding ensemble.

So we started out around 9am, and found the bIke path right outside of town. For six miles, we rode near the highway, but far enough away to miss the noise and the traffic. At the little town of Alma, at the end of the bike trail, we stopped to rest and get warmed up at the Alma Natural Food & Coffee Shop. The last 6 miles, to the top of the pass, would be even more steep than the first 6 miles.

As we sat in the cozy, warm shop, reading the Mountain Gazette, I wondered aloud if we were savoring the journey or delaying the inevitable. Eventually, we decided that it was the latter, and so grabbed our gear and headed back outside again.

The gray clouds had moved out already, and the sun felt warm. There was a pretty generous cross breeze that would keep the day cool. I had put on my jacket, leg- and ear-warmers, but had to stop pretty quickly to remove them. The climbing was really intensifying, and though turning the pedals didn't require a herculean effort, I couldn't keep my mph above 4. With a couple of short breaks, that's exactly how we climbed the mountain.

At our last stop, about a mile before the top, we pulled off to the opposite side of the road to catch the view back towards Fairplay. Yes, we had definitely climbed up a mountain. I was really beginning to believe that we'd make it to the top, and was pretty happy about the journey. I'm not much of a climber, so making it to the top of this peak is a huge accommplishment for me. As we stood looking back down the mountain, we spotted a cyclist coming up from Alma. We didn't stop her--she was on the opposite side of the road and moving at about twice our speed (She would crest the top and pass us again, coming back down the mountain before we reached the pass.).

At long last, our climb levelled out and we were at the top! A nice woman, traveling with her mother and a very friendly yellow lab, offered to take our picture at the summit, but the picture didn't take. I snapped one of Matthew before he jumped off the monument, tho--evidence that we did indeed reach the peak.

Two-wheeler had warned us of construction on the road down to Breckinridge, and just as we started down the mountain, we were stopped in the line of waiting vehicles. Only one lane of traffic was open due to the construction. One of the passengers in a nearby car came over to tell us we'd probably be waiting 45 minutes before the traffic began to move again. So we had some time to enjoy the view and savor the climb. It had taken us a little over 2 hours to climb 12 miles. The next 12 miles into Breckenridge would be all downhill, and then the final 15 miles would be generally downhill to Dillon.

Once the traffic started moving, we got in with the traffic and rolled down the next 2 miles in about 8 minutes. At a wide spot in the road, we pulled off to let our brakes and wheel rims cool off for a few minutes, and to add more layers of clothing. After the rest of the cars passed, we continued down the mountain to Breckingridge, shivering the entire way!

The staff at a local bike shop in Breckinridge gave us directions to the bike trail that would take us to Dillon, and we decided to press on. We'd hardly pedalled the entire way down the mountain, and apparently the dramatic drop in altitutde had also affected our judgement. Another 15 miles didn't seem like much. The bike route is really beautiful, snaking around the Dillon Dam and traipsing through a lovely forested area. The path was paved, but hadn't been graded, so we were rolling through some not insignificant hills again. Sigh. For a while, it seemed as though we were in for a rainshower, but only a few drops materialized. The weather did stay very cool throughout the day, and I was glad to have all of my layers.

At Frisco, we had one last chance for lunch before the last 7 miles to Dillon. We decided instead to split a (king-size) PayDay bar. Which meant that by the time we finally got checked into a hotel in Dillon, it was 4:30pm. We were both ravenous and exhausted.

The streets in Breckinridge have what amounts to gutters on either side of the street, and as we crossed over one of them, my trailer hit the lowerst part of the gutter hard. I couldn't detect any change in its' handling, but when we got to the hotel in Dillon we found that the BOB's frame had indeed cracked. I couldn't even contemplate the ramifactions of that discovery. First I would have to have food (and perhaps a fruity tropical drink).

Some hours and calories later, we have several plans. Plan A involves getting a welder from Silverthorn to fix the frame. Plan B includes a trip to Boulder to buy a new BOB. I'll let you know how it turns out.