What makes you go?

What makes you go?

I recently read an article in Bicycling Magazine that talked about "losing yourself" in the hill. From my understanding (and I am an English teacher), his meaning was that you can get lost in your thoughts, in the scenery, in anything but the daunting physical task at hand. Now anyone who knows me or has heard me tell a story, will attest to the fact that I have no problem getting lost in my thoughts. So, facing the first 13 miles of today's ride - a 2700 foot climb up the Berthoud Pass - I figured I would trying getting "lost" in the mountains. To aide Brennan and I in our effort to transcend ourselves for the nearly two hours as we pedaled away, we turned to music, and with an earbud in our right lobes we set off from Empire not knowing what the mountain or the elevation had planned for us.

The miles ticked away slowly, so I tried to focus in on the scenery - streams cascading down the sides of mountains, snow-capped peaks in the distance, beetle-plagued trees ripe for forest fire kindling. Then the mind began to wander beyond that…what would I do if a forest fire broke out? What about a rock slide or an avalanche? How would I survive if trapped with the gear I had on me in my pockets and seat pack? It was at about this point that I decided that losing myself in my own thoughts was too damn morbid to continue with that method of hill climbing. Not knowing the horrors of each others' mind and knowing we were a little over halfway on our climb, we mutually decided it was time for a break.

Refreshed we started back up the hill, knowing the more difficult half awaited us, and I decided I needed to change my mental strategy; this time I turned to the music. I had been listening to Television's Marquee Moon for the first part of the hill. An album that is great musically, and allows your mind to wander as you get lost in meandering guitar solos and catchy hooks. But this was time to get serious, and, even though Jock Jams alluded my musical collection, I knew there was something in there to get me to the top. It was Led Zeppelin's IV. Mountains, hedgerows, Moordor, big-legged women…rock and roll! Page and Plant propelled pedal after grinding pedal until I reached the top, and realized that getting "lost" means finding what makes you go. 

We took some pics at the top of the pass, which also happens to be the Continental Divide, and celebrated our longest continuous climb of the trip to this point. Refueled and knowing the next 18 miles were downhill, spirits were high and the bikes seemed to ride themselves to lunch. In fact, at that point it is more paying attention to make sure you don't hit gravel, potholes, cars, construction vehicles, etc. We didn't, and cruised through Winter Park and into Frasier with no problems. Although there was construction that forced us to fly down the middle lane of a three lane road with traffic on either side…a bit sketchy. But we made it, little did we know that a lunch gem awaited us in Frasier, CO…Sharky's Grill (see pics below). Costello came through once again with a place that would rejuvenate with the decor and the meal. 

After lunch was relatively uneventful: 32 miles (relatively flat), mild wind cross/against us, a few cool places (see pics below of the aptly named Mustachios), and some beaches (on the shores of Grand Lake). We got in earlier than expected, which gave us more time to drink beer on the porch of our seedy motel. Fuel for what will help us climb the highest continuously paved road in the world.