Part 1: Riding Through Autumn Splendor in the Rocky Mountains

By Frosty Wooldridge

Part 1: The long grind up Squaw Pass, campfire by Echo Lake

Autumn trickles softly into the dense green wilderness of the Rocky Mountains.  Each day, blue skies mingle with magnificent towering peaks.   Here and there, new fallen snows create a white outline of their majestic demeanor.  At the lower altitudes, aspen tremulous also known as fluttering leaves, turn gold before their final flight to the ground below. 

(Three amigos on their start from Golden, Colorado to Aspen, Colorado and the fabled Maroon Bells, over 6 passes, some 250 miles, 12,000 foot passes in the brilliance of autumn in the Rocky Mountains.)  Photo by Sandi Lynn

A quickening occurs at high altitude with marmots and pikas preparing for the long siege of Old Man Winter.  As the sun sets earlier in the day—elk, moose and deer munch the last green grass of summer. Bear and foxes fill their bellies with whatever they can find.

For humans, the warm summer days languish with cool evenings that slowly drop below the freezing line.  That crisp autumn air refreshes one’s lungs with the changing of the seasons.

For each of us wilderness types, John Muir said it best, “Camp out among the grass and gentians of glacier meadows, in craggy garden nooks full of Nature’s darlings. Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.”

Over one hundred years later, Muir’s wisdom soaks into my bones and sparkles in my mind.  I love immersing myself in Nature. It feeds my soul from every stream, lake and river to wildflower-filled mountain meadows colored beyond the realm of the rainbow.

Thus, I must take advantage of the middle of September for a bicycle ride from Golden, Colorado to Aspen, Colorado and the famed Maroon Bells.  On this journey, Robert Montgomery from Alabama, Robert Case from Colorado and David Martin from Florida shared the ride for 250 miles, six passes and extraordinary campsites along the route. 

As we stood astride our bikes on September 13th in Golden , we raised our hands into the sky for a photograph to create a celebration of our journey.  Fully loaded touring bikes weigh anywhere from 40 pounds of gear to as much as 80 pounds of gear for domestic rides.  I’ve carried more than 100 pounds in overseas adventures.  We carry four panniers filled with cooking gear, food, cold weather gear and extra clothes. On top of all that, sleeping bag, tent and air mattress.  For a touch of comfort, three legged camp seats make evenings around the campfire comfortable.

Additionally, we ride with orange flags eight feet above the bikes and 20 inches into traffic on fiberglass poles—to make sure drivers see us long before they encounter us along the highway. We wear helmets and special shoes to maintain top form.

(Have you ever heard of a bed of flowers?  How about a flowering bike?)  Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

What’s it like to ride a bicycle over long distances?

Best answered with this:   The Power of Adventure

When coyotes howl outside your tent, that may be adventure.  While you’re sweating like a horse in a climb over a 12,000-foot pass, that’s adventure.  When howling headwinds press your lips against your teeth, you face a mighty adventure.  While pushing through a raging rainstorm, adventure drenches you.  But that’s not what makes an adventure. It is your willingness to struggle through it, to present yourself at the doorstep of Nature.  Can any greater joy come from life than living inside the ‘moment’ of an adventure?  It may be a fleeting ‘high’, a stranger that changes your life, an animal that delights you or frightens you, a struggle where you triumphed, or even failed, yet you braved the challenge.  Those moments present you uncommon experiences that give your life eternal expectation.  That’s adventure!  

“You boys ready,” I asked the group.

“Gettin’ saddle soars just waitin’ around here for these dad-gummed photographs,” said Robert from Alabama.

“Head ‘em up,” I said.  “The road awaits.”

We pedaled out of Golden near the Buffalo Herd Overlook on Route 40 headed west from Exit 254 on I-70.  Already at 8,000 feet, we enjoyed hawks overhead while American bison munched on the grass along the route.  Only two miles down the road, we turned off on Route 74 that led us to the Squaw Pass Road over 10,000 foot Squaw Pass.

For the most part, only 10 percent of the aspen showed gold colors.  But we knew with altitude, over 50 percent gold leaves awaited us.

(Break from grinding up Squaw Pass for six hours.  Cookies, pies, cakes, ice cream, chocolate chips and orange juice.  Ah, life is good.)  Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

We turned right on Squaw Pass Road.  For six hours and 18 miles, we cranked up four percent grades that wound around the mountains like a giant serpent.  The higher we climbed, the more aspens presented their gold treasures.  Since we traveled on a weekend, lots of road bikes plied the same route. They quickly passed us.   We stopped often to eat apples, oranges and energy bars.  Also, lots of story telling from previous rides!

At the top, we coasted down to the entrance for Mt. Evans at 14,200 feet, the highest paved road in the USA to top a 14er mountain.  We climbed it many times, but not today. 

At one stop, “What do you want to accomplish this year?” I asked both Roberts.

“I finished an audio version of my book,” said Robert Case.  “Also, I finished an outline of my next book. Finally, I wanted to get back into bicycling by riding on this tour.”

“Bravo,” I said.

“What about you, Robert Montgomery?” I asked.

“I want to dominate life,” he roared.

We laughed at his surprise answer. 

We found an excellent campsite on Echo Lake at 11,000 feet near the entrance to Mt. Evans.  Dinner never tasted so good.

(Settling into camp on Echo Lake at 11,000 feet.  Dinner never tasted so good after you burned 10,000 calories on a long six hour climb.)  Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

Nothing like sitting around a campfire with flames curling into the night air. We cooked our dinners, enjoyed small talk and hit the sleeping bags. Nice to once again ride with Robert Montgomery since our Continental Divide ride in 2013.  Nice to enjoy a rockie with us in Robert Case.  My old friend David Martin would join us in the morning in Idaho Springs.

Rules of the road as advised by my membership in www.WarmShowers.org , a worldwide bicycle hosting club.

1. Your Right Calf Always Has Grease on it
2. When it Rains, You Get Wet
3. You Know You Are Approaching a Steep Climb When You Are Following a River Upstream and See a Sign That Reads ”Waterfall Ahead”
4. Mountains Get Harder to Climb When the Heat Rises
5. You Don’t Sweat in the Desert. You Salt.
6. It is Virtually Impossible to Properly Fold a Paper Map While Standing into the Wind
7. First 3 Questions Asked, “Where are you from?” “Where are you going?” “How many tires have you gone through?”
8. Prevailing Winds are a Myth
9. Frequent Flats Build Your Biceps

        You Can’t Outrace a Thunderhead

(Robert Montgomery watching the aspen leaves begin their autumn explosion into gold.)  Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

Part 2: Mighty 12,000 foot Loveland Pass and cherished moments.

##

Frosty Wooldridge

Golden, CO 

Population-Immigration-Environmental specialist: speaker at colleges, civic clubs, high schools and conferences

Www.HowToLiveALifeOfAdventure.com

Www.frostywooldridge.com 

Six continent world bicycle traveler

Speaker/writer/adventurer

Adventure book: How to Live a Life of Adventure: The Art of Exploring the World

Frosty Wooldridge, six continent world bicycle traveler, Canada to Mexico summer 2015, 2,000 miles, 100,000 vertical feet of climbing: