Day 19, 67 miles, the Monarch Pass

To summit the Monarch Pass at 11,332 feet is to be filled with emotion. Deep swallows, big breaths, what is this all about? Relief that the pain has ended? Pride that the mountain has been conquered? A bit of regret that the hardest part of the ride is over? That a big part of the ride in now in the past? The ten mile climb that starts at 7,500 feet is both painful, and picturesque. I’m not sure why the assent was so hard, but all the riders agreed it was. The 7 and 8% grade was no worse than Donner Pass, but the Monarch climb is long, and the air is thin. **The switchbacks are like the lines at Disney World, just when you think you’re reached the end, you go around the bend and see more, and more, and more. When the speed drops to 5 mph and there is 10 miles to go, it’s easy to despair. Two more hours of climbing. But what I bought with that pain. Going that slow allows you to be part of the mountain. Stands of tall aspens cling to the side of the mountain. They must have deep roots. Their scent fills the lungs that are straining for air. Look down on the tops of the trees. Look down at the patches of snow as it feeds that stream that tumbles toward the Pacific. Rock falls from above and rocks falling to the valley below remind you that the mountain is a living thing.** A guided tells us that the water erodes the mountain and transforms it at a rate of 1/25 th of an inch per year. This has been going on for a long time…

I’d gotten a slow start, so was one of the last riders to reach the summit. Other riders cheer us in. Food was very important at this point, so I went into the tacky shop where most of the other rides were already eating. (Jeff just said, “Give me one of everything.”) It was good to sit and refuel. The view from the summit cannot be described, hopefully, the pictures will help. There is snow on the mountains, green forests below them, lesser hills stretching out to the horizon. There is the look backward at the long winding road we cycled up (did I really ride up that?) Picture the long winding road floating down the other side of the mountain. No time for tree gazing and smelling the roses on the downhill. It’s too fast to do anything but watch the road and hang on. But that gets ahead of the game. There was another “life first” at the top of Monarch Pass. A gondola takes the rider to the very top of the mountain, another 700 feet, to an altitude of 12,000 feet. The gent selling the tickets asked me how old I was. It qualified me for my first ever “senior discount.” ; _ ( On the top, there was a big yellow line labeled “The Continental Divide” with “Atlantic” on one side and “Pacific” on the other. I straddled the line.

The day finished pretty fast. Riding down covers a lot more ground, much faster than the ride up. Our hotel in Salida was nondescript, but a few of us rode our bikes into “downtown” Sailda, a very chic on the rebound Western town. We found a nice bar with a porch hanging out over another raging river, but this one was heading toward the Atlantic! The beer was soooo good. Hopping on our bikes to check out the local bike shop, my tire went flat. Sitting on their steps, with the wheel in my hand, I couldn’t find the puncture site. Then I realized that, even though I could fix it, there was no reason that I should fix it at the end of this day. Such is the beginning of wisdom. The folks in the bike shop were happy to fix the flat for me. They did it for the price of the tube.

New blog feature- “The Whine.” I usually write the blog in chronological order, starting in the morning and than working through the day. However, as many of you know, I’m not exactly a morning person. In fact, I can be downright grumpy for the first few hours, and that’s how the blog often starts. I’ve realized that this may be a turnoff for those of you who want to read about my joyous romp across the continent and not my mishaps and misgivings. So, from now on, there will be a section, “The Whine” at the end of the post. If you don’t want to hear me whine, don’t read it.

“The Whine” The day started badly and rapidly got worse. We were supposed to ride out at 6:30, my alarm clock should have gone off at 5:30, but didn’t. I woke up at 6, time to scramble. Tire check- the rear went flat during the night! (Slow leaks do this.) The zipper of my windjacket broke as I tried to hustle my luggage outside. I got the tire off my bike, but couldn’t find what had punctured it. Running out of time, I put on a new tire but got chain grease on my new shorts. These were the least of the ride’s problem, there’s been an outbreak of norovirus (whoops, I’m sorry, that’s a stomach bug to you) among our group. At least 6 rides were sagging, two more were picked up on the mountain, too sick to keep on riding. Gerard put their bikes on the roof of the sag wagon.

Statistics: 68 miles at 12.1 mph. 3,124 feet of climb using 5,790 calories.

Note: have video from the summit that I'll try too upload tomorrow or on day 21.