In the Colorado Springs Cycling Club, there are three nutballs that are always the most competitive and always finish first. Steve, Josh and myself. We’re all about the same age, the same stage of life and share the same passion for going fast on a bike. With the exception of Josh (who crushes EVERYONE on the climbs), we have the same physical abilities.

A few weeks ago, while ignoring ride instructions at a club ride, we hatched the idea of going to the summit as hard as we could from Barr Camp. Today was the day.

We covered the 12.68 miles in a total time of 4 hours, 54 minutes, 3 seconds and a moving time of 4:04:09. The weather was perfect but we were a little alarmed when we got to Barr Camp and a woman said the temp on top was 15 degrees with a 25 mph wind from the west. Screw it we said and trudged on in our shorts and long sleeve t-shirts.

Interestingly, all three of us had difficulties keeping up at various times on the course. I struggled and was dropped on the 2 miles after Barr Camp but felt the best the higher we got. Not surprising since I’ve always done extremely well at altitude and generally get better as a race goes on. In an incredible display of timing, Amy appeared in my truck to pick us up at the top and take us back home.

I’ll spare you the rest of the banal details but would say this was the most fun I’ve had since moving to Colorado back in March of 2007. It was a lot of suffering but in fine company and great scenery.

I don’t have any group pictures, just memories to hold, that grow sweeter each season, as we slowly grow old (big points for knowing the song and artist!).

Due to the pace, we didn’t talk much and took almost no pictures except our camera phones. Here are the pictures off mine:

After reading my daily barrage of non-stop bad news, this story made my day. It’s a pretty awesome story that’s definitely worth a read.

(via Reddit)

In addition to being incredibly sore, and I mean INCREDIBLY sore, I’m frustrated because the pictures of the climb yesterday just don’t do it justice.  It’s a hellish hardcore hike.   Though my back and butt are pretty tender, my quads are nearly crippled.  Not from the climb, but from the 3.6 mile descent down the Barr Trail which I ran in about 21 minutes.  I’m so sore that I couldn’t do the 100 mile ride I had planned for today.  Still, I can’t wait to do it again… 

I finally got around to posting the pictures on Flickr.

In March of 1906, the city of Colorado Springs completed construction of a one mile cog railway to whisk tourists up to the top of Rocky Mountain (many people mistake Rocky for Mount Manitou which is the next peak to the northwest of Rocky) and it continued to operate until September of 1990.  After the last car descended from 8,600 feet, the owner of the land, Pike’s Peak Cog Railway, elected to keep the land and allow the scar to heal.  That didn’t happen.

The trail can easily be seen when traveling westbound on route 24 and it is unbelievable to think that people or even a machine could scale such a grade.  In numbers, it doesn’t sound so bad; the climb starts at a little over 6,500 feet elevation and ends at 8,644.  According to the US Geological Survey, the average gradient is 41% with the maximum being 68% and is 1.02 miles long.

Despite the land being privately owned with warning signs all over the place, people climb it everyday and today was my turn.  Since I spotted it the very first day I arrived here, the thing has been taunting me every time I pass it, begging me to climb.  No more procrastination. 

Midway through an incredibly lame conference call, I decided on a whim that the time was now.  I left the phone on the hook so they couldn’t hear me drop and busted out to the car where I changed out of my jeans into my running shorts.  30 minutes later (it took me 20 just to find a damn parking spot), I was ready to go.  Whatever you do, DO NOT park in the lots owned by the Cog Railway, these people take parking very seriously and have several guards with binoculars watching the precious few spaces. Park at the Barr trail or drive back down to Downtown Manitou Springs and park on the street.  It’s not that bad of a walk.

Once in the lot, you’ll see the famous Barr Trail sign but you don’t want the Barr Trail (which will take you all the way to the top of Pike’s Peak), you want pain and suffering.   Go to to your right and the back of the lot and you should spot a faint trail.  Take the obvious path until you come to the railroad ties.  This is it.  Before you start, look up, take a deep breath and notice that you’re breathing is fairly relaxed.  Say goodbye to that.

Immediately upon hitting the ties, it kicks up quickly, but not too bad. Unless you’re a freak, resist the urge to jog this part, I wish I had.   It doesn’t really look that bad from here.  About 5 minutes of climbing later, you’ll come across the last warning sign (see above) and though it looks like it’s all fun and games, you are trespassing on private property and breaking the law of you continue.  Whatever…

From here on out, it’s just one foot in front of the other, one step at a time.  I had my Garmin 305 GPS/HRM with me and almost immediately, my heart rate was in the mid 170’s.  My goal was to make it to the top in under 30 minutes. 

Every now and then, the path levels out to 40-50% grade and you can stop, turn around and enjoy the scenery.  Here is a shot of downtown Colorado Springs from the midway point.

Right after this point, the climb gets seriously steep and you must lean forward (sometimes on all fours) to keep from falling back.  There were two instances where I actually had to crawl. Not for people afraid of heights.  Each of the 2,809 ties is an extreme effort at this altitude and grade.  It seemed like every time I looked at my heart rate monitor, I was at 180+ beats per minute.  I stopped twice, once to tie my right shoe, the other to keep from going totally anaerobic. 

Cruelly, there are two “false” summits along the climb and it is humbling even though I knew they were coming.  This post is already far too long but I completed the climb in 36 minutes and 14 seconds which isn’t bad considering my 218 pound frame.  I was passed by three people, one a young girl who was jogging up.  Yes, jogging.  But I easily weighed twice as much as she did and I’m a cyclist dammit, not a runner.  Getting to the summit was a little anticlimactic honestly but I was glad to see it.  The cement car holder can still be seen but I was sucking too much wind to snap a picture.  After the climb, I ran the 3.5 miles down the Barr Trail back to the trailhead which topped me off by killing my legs.  Don’t even think about walking back down the climb, you WILL get hurt.  Here are some images from the top:

 

And the obligatory Google Earth Images:

You can see more in the Manitou Incline set on Flickr.

ok, ok. The trip sucked so bad that I wasn’t going to write about it but I need to stop the e-mails. So here goes.

A week ago tonight, wrote this post about how I was going on spontaneous hiking trip for a few days out on the Olympic Peninsula. In short, It was great except for the parts where it sucked.

I barely made (and I mean barely) the 5:50 am ferry from Edmonds to Kingston though when I got on, I was surprised to pick up a wireless access point on my MacBook Pro. Not a huge technical feat at all, but I was surprised nontheless, especially since it was free that day. The boat ride (yes, we stay in our cars the whole time) was over quickly and then I got to cross the Hood Canal Floating Bridge for the first time and then on up to Highway 101. Past the bridge and Port Ludlow, there’s not much civilization until Sequim (pronounced Sk-wim). As the sun rose, I was treated to the eastern foothills of the Olympic Mountain rage and water almost everywhere else. It is a stunning drive. The first (and really only) large town on the Olympic Peninsula is Port Angeles and I was blown away about how big it was. I stopped at a Starbuck’s drive through and got a latte.

About 20 miles outside Port Angeles, a body of water on your right appears as you wind your way down a pretty large road. But suspiciously, the water is oddly clear with a green sheen. This would be Lake Crescent which gets it’s color from it’s source, glacier runoff. The lake is stunning. It’s incredible stillness and green color is something I’d never seen before and I stopped for an hour just to chill out along it’s banks. It’s huge! A few years ago I’d read a very interesting story in the Seattle P-I (it’s worth stopping here and reading) and I thought alot about the young couple that’s probably still at the bottom of this lake. What were there last thoughts before the accident? What would they have done that afternoon had they not crashed? What was the day like? And on and on.

After the lake, there’s not much, I don’t think I saw a single car for over 50 miles. It’s primarily logging land so make sure you get gas in Port Angeles (click for map). I was tired but wanted to get Rialto Beach and hole in the wall before I checked out Forks and possible lodging. I turned right on Route 110 and headed for the beach. Along this road, I saw a surprising number of large homes that looked pretty civilized.

The beach was beautiful and I was the only one there. Low tide was scheduled for 9:54 and I had arrived at 9 so that gave me time to get my gear together (I obviously didn’t want to drive 5 hours in my hiking pants) and get out to the beach. The approaching storm (the one that dumped almost a foot of snow on the eastside of Seattle) made for a rough surf which is what I had wanted. I must admit that it was not easy to hike on this beach. The surface was made of billions of tiny litte stones that were wet and felt like quicksand. It took me almost an hour to cover the first mile. It was cool being the only person in the world on this beach. At the one mile mark, I reached what was supposed to be a small creek. Heh. Not exactly. This was a raging river. The water was at least 4 feet deep and swift enough to carry a 20 pound stone 20 feet down the way. I didn’t want to risk getting my feet wet so early so I spent about 30 minutes pacing up and down the thing (to the ocean water) until I devised a clever path using some fallen logs. When i decided to go, I was committed since I had thrown my pack over to the other side which had my car keys and everything else in them. Turns out I shouldn’t have worried about getting wet. A few minutes after crossing the creek, I got tackled by a 9 foot wave that came at least 10 feet furhter up the beach than anything previous. Completely knocked me on my ass but I was smart to keep my camera over my head. I really wasn’t worried about getting pulled into the sea by an undercurrent but I was shocked about how warm the water was. It was like a warm bath. I went to Hole In the Wall and turn around towards the car. I walked half in the water though since I was already wet.

I drove into Forks, looking for some lunch and a possible hotel. Forks (click for map) is a small logging town about 12 miles from the shore and there’s not much here in the summer, let alone the winter. The only place to get food was at a small grocery store but there was a nice little hotel called the Forks Motel. It looked clean and rooms for $39 a night on the weekdays during the off season. Since the place was so cheap, I decided to call it a day (I’d been awake now for 39 hours) and I got a room. I took a warm shower and was asleep within an hour. Around 8 pm, my cell phone woke me.

The trip was over. It seems I had not obtained the necessary permits. I packed up, checked out (the woman at the desk insisted I get a refund while I insisted I pay for the night) and got on the road. 9 hours later (I missed the Bremerton-Seattle ferry by less than two minutes) I was home.

I’d love to go back, but probably won’t. You can check out all of my photos from the tip in my Flickr gallery.