Jody:
From Monday, September 24.
Alamosa to Walsenburg, the last route of this leg of our trek. And the third of three passes in a row. Yeah, I'd ridden Yellowjacket Pass with no problem, and Wolf Creek Pass the day before was a challenge that I had successfully completed, but I wondered if North La Veta Pass would prove to be a let down or if I'd spent my energy already. The route guide said it's a 77 mile route, fifteen miles less than the day before and the pass is "only" 9413 feet elevation. Thankfully, Alamosa is at 7544 feet elevation, so the climbs would not be too great. And the drop to Walsenberg's elevation of 6182 feet should be more enjoyable.
From Monday, September 24.
Alamosa to Walsenburg, the last route of this leg of our trek. And the third of three passes in a row. Yeah, I'd ridden Yellowjacket Pass with no problem, and Wolf Creek Pass the day before was a challenge that I had successfully completed, but I wondered if North La Veta Pass would prove to be a let down or if I'd spent my energy already. The route guide said it's a 77 mile route, fifteen miles less than the day before and the pass is "only" 9413 feet elevation. Thankfully, Alamosa is at 7544 feet elevation, so the climbs would not be too great. And the drop to Walsenberg's elevation of 6182 feet should be more enjoyable.
I went out about fifteen minutes after sunrise, into crisp overcast weather. Biking through town, I spied a hitchhiker I'd seen twice the day before, once outside Monte Vista, CO and then several miles east of Monte Vista, where he'd obviously been dropped off after a short ride.
The route from Alamosa had a slight upward pitch, but I managed a steady clip for the first ninety minutes, averaging over fifteen miles an hour. Then I hit the wall and my pace slackened considerably. Rain threatened, but aside from a few stray drops, did not result in any precipitation.
The landscape just west of Blanca, CO reminded me of Utah, large expanses of high country desert with little greenery, no trees. Joe was waiting as I arrived at a gas station in Blanca. The town featured two signs, the first a painted tourist sign announcing that Kit Carson had once roamed the area, and the other a flashing electric sign telling drivers not to pick up hitchhikers. We wondered if there was a prison nearby. [From Janie: yes, indeed, there is.]
The route from Alamosa had a slight upward pitch, but I managed a steady clip for the first ninety minutes, averaging over fifteen miles an hour. Then I hit the wall and my pace slackened considerably. Rain threatened, but aside from a few stray drops, did not result in any precipitation.
The landscape just west of Blanca, CO reminded me of Utah, large expanses of high country desert with little greenery, no trees. Joe was waiting as I arrived at a gas station in Blanca. The town featured two signs, the first a painted tourist sign announcing that Kit Carson had once roamed the area, and the other a flashing electric sign telling drivers not to pick up hitchhikers. We wondered if there was a prison nearby. [From Janie: yes, indeed, there is.]
Another twenty plus miles to La Veta Pass. Sigh. Joe assured me that the gradual rate of climb would continue. It did and I kept pedalling and passed Janie. Joe would pick her up soon and we would later meet again at the top of the pass. We agreed that there was no need to switch rear wheels on this pass. A roadside sign announce that La Veta Pass summit was five miles distant.
I climbed at a moderate pace. The first four miles the grade was only slightly steeper than I'd already ridden. Construction signs and work crews were evident before the top. The last mile held a higher degree of incline, but nowhere near as challenging as Wolf Creek Pass. I reached the summit around 11:30 and looked forward to the descent. The construction zone reduced the oncoming traffic's shoulder area, and also lowered the speed limits for both sides of traffic. I amped up my speed on the descent and hoped to approach the temporarily reduced speed limit. I picked up a tailwind after the first half mile and zipped downward. My top speed was over fifty miles per hour, not enough to break the speed limit, but fast enough to bring a grin to my face, along with wind-whipped tears that clouded my vision. I think my happy mouth caused excessive drag.
Joe and Janie passed me on the upper reaches of the descent, and after several miles, pulled off the road to set up lunch, where I soon followed. Janie pointed out a herd of pronghorn antelope just behind our lunch spot. They shied away as Joe stopped the car. The Little Darkness was an excellent wind block on the gravel road, and we enjoyed a feast as a few cars passed our sheltered area.
I climbed at a moderate pace. The first four miles the grade was only slightly steeper than I'd already ridden. Construction signs and work crews were evident before the top. The last mile held a higher degree of incline, but nowhere near as challenging as Wolf Creek Pass. I reached the summit around 11:30 and looked forward to the descent. The construction zone reduced the oncoming traffic's shoulder area, and also lowered the speed limits for both sides of traffic. I amped up my speed on the descent and hoped to approach the temporarily reduced speed limit. I picked up a tailwind after the first half mile and zipped downward. My top speed was over fifty miles per hour, not enough to break the speed limit, but fast enough to bring a grin to my face, along with wind-whipped tears that clouded my vision. I think my happy mouth caused excessive drag.
Joe and Janie passed me on the upper reaches of the descent, and after several miles, pulled off the road to set up lunch, where I soon followed. Janie pointed out a herd of pronghorn antelope just behind our lunch spot. They shied away as Joe stopped the car. The Little Darkness was an excellent wind block on the gravel road, and we enjoyed a feast as a few cars passed our sheltered area.
After lunch, I pulled onto the highway once again. The powerful tailwind had not died down. I didn't pedal, just coasted to see how fast the wind and slight downhill would take me. I almost hit thirty miles per hour without pedaling. The route leveled off, but because of the strong tailwind, even moderate pedaling allowed me to speed along at twenty plus miles per hour.
Something briefly distracted me, and Jean Luc headed for the ditch. Thankfully I kept my balance, slowed to a stop, and redirected myself back onto the hard surface with no ill effect. No, this doesn't count as a fall - just a close call!
I zipped into Walsenburg, past a mowing crew along the shoulder of the highway. I warned Joe that the dust and cutting might be an issue for Janie, but she sped through without incident.
The ride from La Vita Pass to Walsenburg was so fast that I felt cheated out of time on the bike. I'd anticipated about two hours for the thirty one miles, but it took much less time than that, including our leisurely lunch break.
Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in getting up every time we do.
~Confucius
Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in getting up every time we do.
~Confucius
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