Part 4: Riding Through Autumn Splendor in the Rocky Mountains—Camping on a Cliff

By Frosty Wooldridge

Part 4: Mighty Vail Pass, Vail Ski Resort, Minturn, camping on a cliff

Nothing beats waking up in the morning like hearing a slow moving musical symphony conducted by a clear mountain stream.  At first, as you gain consciousness from a good night’s sleep deep in an aspen grove, you might hear a few birds chirping.  Next, as your brain clears, you hear water rushing over rocks and branches.  Subsequently, you open your eyes to bright sunshine gleaming into your tent.  Immersing yourself in the wilderness energizes every cell in your body.  Nature’s soothing hand gladdens your spirit in a comforting melody.  The waters dance through your mind in a melodic and mystic reverie. Whatever direction your life takes you, the harmonies of a stream carry, pull and guide you back to center, to peace and to a spiritual tranquility in every cell of your body. 

(Robert Case and Robert Montgomery about to pedal up Vail Pass.) Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

After awakening, you hear your friends unzipping their sleeping bags as they prepare for the coming day.

“Rise and shine,” I said to my camp mates.

“Yes, boss, rising and shining,” a voice sparkled out of the tent next to me.

It’s hard to leave a memorable campsite on a slow moving mountain stream.  Hard to leave the campfire where memories linger.  Hard to pack up and leave a paradise setting.

I recited one of my favorite poems by Robert Stark, “I celebrate the day that races wild across the common wealth of space; that wears a flaming feather in its hair and cartwheels down the avenue of time. I celebrate the day that leaps the wind and hugs the sound of laughter to its face. That flings aside the qualms of yesterday and leaves no taste of ashes in its wake. I celebrate Robert Montgomery. I celebrate Robert Case.  Indeed, I celebrate our great journey. Together, we celebrate the day.”

“Bravo,” said the guys.

“Let’s see what this glorious day has in store for us,” I said.  “I hate to leave, but adventure beckons.”

Adventure always calls to the next moment; the next event; the next challenge. It never tarries with yesterday.  Adventure awaits no man or woman.  You either jump on adventure highway or you sit on the couch or behind a steering wheel.  Or, you click on the remote to watch someone else live his or her own adventure.  It means taking action in your life. That’s why they call it adventure.   Its origins stem from Middle English, which means: “what must happen”; “bold and unusual undertaking”; “risky undertaking”.

You can bet that most people watching us ride our bicycles down the road think, “Those guys must be crazy…why would anyone ride a bicycle in the rain…why would anyone climb a mountain pass on a bicycle…what would possess those folks to suffer so much to travel….I feel sorry for those folks pedaling up a mountain pass….”

Trust me; I’ve heard endless comments.  But you know, I’ve heard others say, “Gosh, that looks like magic…that looks like fun…how far do you travel per day…where do you stay…doesn’t your butt hurt…wish I had the knees for such a glorious undertaking…you must see the world in a whole new way at 15 miles per hour….”

We grabbed more water before we launched ourselves up Vail Pass.  A quick run through Copper Mountain Ski Resort gave a view of the mighty runs about to be covered in snow within the month.  As we entered the bike path for Vail Pass, more and more trees turned golden. We followed a river.  Dozens of trees begged our eyes to see their colorful displays.

Mother Nature knows how to put on an art show!  On our left, gold, red and burgundy aspen leaves.  On our right, shimmering burnt orange shrubberies from ground brush.  Ahead, blue sky backing up the golden aspen. Behind, the eternal river splashing down the mountain.

We followed switchbacks, straight shots and more climbing until we reached Vail Pass at 10,500 feet. 

The 18 miles down the west side made for a roller coaster, carnival ride, filled with twists, turns, lakes and rivers splashing and dancing—life throbbing to the beat of the universe.

(Robert and Robert at the fountain in Vail. Everywhere, statues, flower boxes, people and restaurants.) Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

In north Vail, we passed $3 to $5 million homes replete with priceless statues, elegant landscapes and abundant flowers.  Bentleys, BMWs, Rolls Royce’s and Porches’ dotted the garage driveways.

Vail’s center town offered flower boxes in every window, fountains, statues and restaurants.  We lunched in West Vail.  We stopped in Minturn for a chocolate chip cookie break.  We added more water for our evening meals.

(Home in Vail with sod roof and fabulous flower box displays.) Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

For the next two hours, we cranked those pedals up Battle Summit Mountain Pass.  We started at the Eagle River to see it slowly fade below us.  Along the curvy route, mines and mine tailings flourished on mountainsides.  Near the top, a bunch of abandoned mining buildings stood in mute testimony to a once thriving business. Of course, once they raped the land, they left all the chemicals, waste and junk for Nature to deal with for the next million years.

(Lancelot Restaurant in downtown Vail.  Notice the abundance of flowers. My bike stands near a fountain with bronze children celebrating life.)  Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

For the record, I have seen hundreds of mines in my climbs of the 14,000-foot peaks of Colorado. All of those mines create an ugly blight on the land.  Yet, no one will take the time or money to remove the scars upon the land back to Nature.

At the top, Robert Montgomery decided to let our camp spot “reveal” itself.  And, it did!  We cut off the road, down a path with a stand of aspens, to a ledge on the edge of a cliff.  We pitched our tents and broke out the stoves and cooking ware.

(Robert Montgomery standing by a moose in downtown Vail.)  Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

As we sat there eating dinner, the sun dropped lower in the sky, which changed the golden aspen leaves to many different shades.  The valley below us dropped over 2,000 feet to the Eagle River below.  We sat on our camp seats watching the grand drama before us, both high on the mountain peaks and below us in the deep valley.

(Robert Montgomery standing in an aspen grove on top of Battle Summit Mountain.) Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

Robert Case recited his “Epic Poem” around our tiny circle.  As he spoke, several shooting stars shot across the ink-black of space above us. 

(Campsite on the edge of a cliff where we ate dinner and watched the sun set on the river 2,000 feet below us and the mountains 14,000 feet above us. All the while, patches of golden aspen decorated the entire landscape.)  Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

After Robert’s fabulous rendition, I shared the “Spell of the Yukon” by Robert Service, “The summer no sweeter than ever, the sunshiny woods all athrill; the grayling aleap in the river, the big horn sheep on the hill; the strong life that never knows harness; the wilds where the caribou call; the freshness, the freedom the farness, oh God how I’m stuck on it all.”

Sleep came easily as we camped on the side of a cliff.

(Robert Case doing some meditation on the edge of a cliff at our campsite on Battle Summit Mountain.) Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

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(Aspen colors along our route.)  Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

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: