July 18, 19, 20, 2015 – Sun and rain, 50 degrees
Miles Today: 92
Miles to Date: 4,230
States to Date: 18
The Courage Classic is an annual cycling tour through the Rocky Mountains: 2200 cyclists and 400 volunteers raise over $2 million for the Colorado Children’s Hospital. Some members of my extended family have participated for over twenty years. For the past five years, I’ve included the three-day ride in our annual July reunion. This year, I made the Courage Classic part of my 48-state journey.
Each day the Courage Classic offers a range of routes and climbing challenges so that any level of cyclist can participate. Since our five core riders are getting older – average age 65 – we cherry pick favorite routes. This year, on day one we ascended Vail Pass east to west, rolled into Vail Resort, and then returned over the top. Day Two we circled Dillon Reservoir climbed Swan Mountain (my favorite stretch) and returned through Officers Gulch. On Day Three we left the crowds altogether and mounted Ute Pass, which is a terrific ride up a little-used road with magnificent views of the Gore Range.
After each days ride we soaked in the hot tub, then ate huge meals, caught up on old times, and played lots of cards. We are wicked competitive at hearts and fan-tan; my niece even got us to play Old Maid. By mid-afternoon Monday everyone headed back to Denver, but I was able to spend one solo night at our condo and continue west on Tuesday morning.
Frank is from New York City, and has the residual accent to prove it. Connie is from a small town in Southern Minnesota. They met in New York, but migrated closer to her home to raise their family. They have three children and are expecting their twelfth grandchild; the refrigerator is plastered with school pictures. Frank spent 35 years in the computer business while Connie has always been a housewife. Their favorite expression is “We are blessed.” They truly appreciate their bounty.
I woke well rested at 5 a.m., ate a ridiculous breakfast (6 hard boiled eggs, two muffins, a bowl of grapes and a banana) and headed west before six. I had pedaled the first quarter of the route before – along Bear Creek through Morrison, and out old U.S. 40 to Genesee. I had also ridden the last quarter – from Keystone Ski resort to Copper Mountain on previous Courage Classic rides. But the middle half, and the most rise, was all new.
I could go on, because Mark did the lion’s share of talking during our hours together. In part because he is one of the most open, extroverted people I’ve met. But also because most of the time I was breathing too hard to form words, struggling to maintain a measly 4 mph as we climbed toward Loveland Pass.
I bought us lunch in Georgetown and shared my plentiful snacks and water; Mark had not come out equipped for a seventy-mile climb. When we reached the base of Loveland Pass he called his wife, who agreed to pick him up later, then coached me up the four-mile trek to the summit. His life story unspooled with the rise. “I have never had so much time to tell someone my whole story; it’s great to reveal it all.” And, as often happens when someone opens their heart, I found myself confessing things I usually keep private. In the thrall of a one-day endorphin fueled platonic love affair, we exchanged all manner of secrets.
Duane indulged his wanderlust in 1998, when he took a year off and traversed the globe, trekking in India, South Africa, and Europe. His study is full of memorabilia from that period that still lives large in his psyche. Hearing Duane’s stories made me realize that I am in the middle of my own version of his yearlong adventure. More recently Duane’s adventures have been shorter but more intense; he rides ultra marathons, cycling over 200 miles in a single day.
Dear highway engineers: Bike lanes marked on the road pavement are saver than bike paths set back from the street. This seems counterintuitive, but when I’m on the pavement, cars see me. When I’m set apart by a curb and grass strip, drivers aren’t looking for me at cross streets. My only mishap to date happened when cars at right angles were unaware of me coming off a bike path set back from the road.
Dear people who consider bike paths routes for ten-year-olds to get to a ball game: Take the silly curves out of bake paths. Let us get from Point A to Point B with the same clarify that other vehicles use. If I want to zig-zag my path, I’ll play Candyland.
Dear vehicle drivers: If a cyclist is riding along the shoulder and following the rules of the road – don’t honk! I don’t know if you are perturbed that I exist or are jealous that you’re stuck in your car while I’m in the open air. Either way, being honked at is unnerving.
“Our challenge is how to make the veteran’s experience relevant thirty years from now. What happened after World War II, when being a veteran was an almost universal experience, won’t happen again. The numbers of veterans is down; fewer people have direct connection to veterans.
at are completely different from their previous life. This often includes combat, and culminates in a homecoming. It is a pattern of passages. Not all experiences are alike: the particulars of a World War II soldier and a Vietnam soldier and an Iraqi soldier are not the same, but the passages are similar.
How Will We Live Tomorrow? 