OK, I think I have caught up to the point that the story is ready to post. I will forewarn all of you that this is a long story, it would have never fit in this column. It was such an incredible event, that I could not summarize it very easily. Thank you all for the support, but thanks most to TRAILGUY, who got me to the event. You made it possible, and all I did was show up and ride. Durango is an awesome place to uni, so you all should go and give it a try.
Peace and Happiness
Aspenmike
Thanks Gilby!
My wonderful adventure only became a reality when my wife, Annie, gave me the answer I wasn’t expecting. We had made plans to go white water rafting that weekend, since the rivers were way up and the temps were warm. It would be the first trip of the season for us, a trip that we really look forward to. After reading trialguys post about how they (IHBC organizers) had added a unicycle division, I was spinning off into Coker dreams all day and night long. I so wanted to go, but having raced the previous weekend in the Ride for the Pass, I felt very self-centered asking for another weekend of racing. After all, family is first, unicycling second, right.......? My family does unicycle, but not at this capacity. So I waited until the pre-registration fee price was going to go up to ask Annie. She answered quickly with a decisive, " Of course you should go". She is the best, and most of my epic adventures have only become reality because of her and my wonderful kids. I had to ask her a second time to make sure my ears heard right the first time. That was I believe Wednesday the 25th. I had not prepared for the race at all, so I knew going in that it would be difficult. I registered and had 24 hours to get ready for it.
Durango is around a 6-7 hour drive from here, south mostly and a little west. I know the route well as I have been on it many times, first in the 70's coming to Colorado to go skiing from Arizona. I would go on this IHBC trip by myself, and of course in my traveling living room, a 27' motorhome. I took care of my Aspen Solar Inc. business early Friday and headed down the road. I knew I was still somewhat dehydrated from the race the previous weekend, so I loaded up on liquids on the drive, big mistake as the drive took an hour longer just from all the pee breaks. I was definitely dehydrated, not a good sign of things to come. I still kept drinking though. The last 50 miles of the road trip were the same 50 miles that I would be riding in less than 12 hours, yikes. I studied the lines, climbs, and potential puke spots, but that was hard to do, just trying to keep the motorhome between the lines on these incredible mountain passes was a challenge in itself.
I arrived in Durango about an hour before dark and just before the mandatory registration packet pick up closed. Mounted the GB4 36er and cruised to the building, this took some time, as I began to get the feeling of just how EPIC this event was going to be. There were hundreds and hundreds of people and cars, and bikes everywhere. I got all my free swag and panels, and proceeded to go to downtown. I made a few laps hoping to run into trailguy or one of the other uni riders. The downtown area is fascinating, lots of cool shops and many historic Victorian buildings from the 1800's. The streets were abuzz with the IHBC energy. On my last lap through town, a fellow on a b-----, rode up next to me and said "Aspenmike", I replied, "Trailguy". The connection I was looking for was made. We sat and shot the shit for quite awhile; he was telling me how he had worked with the organizers to officially get a unicycle division, and about all the other uni riders in town. In that short time, at least 80% of the people that passed by stopped to chat about unicycling. This was more of an omen, of about what was to soon happen. Trailguy was very appreciative of me showing up, hell I hadn’t done anything except show up, and got me pumped up for the event. I parked the motorhome in trailguys neighborhood, and called it a night.
Saturday am, the sky is clear, the air is cool and crisp, around 45 degree's and the birds are singing a wake up song. I had the usual banana pancake breakfast w/ kona coffee to awaken my systems.
I had prepared my GB4 36er the night before, and also my camelback. The race was going to be long, & hard, and so I had to make sure I was ready for anything. This could be a mechanical breakdown, a body breakdown, snow or even overheating. The temperature was supposed to reach 80+ in the valley and 65+ in the high country. I had everything I could possibly need, the camelback was totally full. It was time to do it. I mounted the 36er and ran into Trailguy soon after I left. I wanted to go see the pro’s start; they started 45 minutes before us, but realized it was at a different start 4 miles away. Instead, I cruised to the “citizens” start. The 1,000+ citizens racers were already starting to line up. I ran into multiple friends from different towns that were there to compete as well, and they pretty much were blown away that I was going to go all the way to Silverton. The other unicyclists started showing up, and it was a blast to meet them all. Like Trailguy has said, it was a diverse group. We all grouped up together and had smiles from ear to ear on our faces as the train tooted its horn. This is the official start of the race, the legendary Durango/Silverton trains whistle. The citizen’s race is a race to beat the train to Silverton, which takes about 3 1/4 hours. What a cool way to start a race.
Race on… For the first 4 or 5 miles we rode together for the most part. The streets were packed with spectators cheering us on. They really liked us, lot’s of positive comments from all. I rode next to a girl, Sue, who is a pro Mtn bike racer who was riding a unicycle in the race. She had planned to ride to Hermosa, I think about 13 miles. At first she seemed embarrassed, but by the time we neared the end of town, she was really happy and spinning her 29er smoothly. At that point it was time for me thinking about chewing up some miles. I high fived everyone and pedaled on down the road.
The course profile is this: flat start for 13 miles then 10 miles of moderate climbing then 5 miles of rollers, than the two Mtn passes. First would be Coal Bank, then Molas, and then finish with a brutal 7-mile descent into Silverton. The temperature was already in the mid 60’s when the citizens group started, no wind at all. This made for some sweet spinning up the lower Animas river valley. There were many ranches along here that were suffering flood damage from the recent warm temperatures and deep snow pack. Allot of the alfalfa fields were completely under water. The ranchers were not happy, from years of drought to now flooding, a tough situation to be in. The Canada geese, Great Blue Heron, Mallard and Merganser Ducks were having a ball with all the water to hang out in. One thing I did notice during this flat stretch was the call of the frogs and the red wing black birds; each seemed to be in harmony with each other. There were a few late starters, bicyclists that passed me trying to catch up to the big group. I was still blown away by the magnitude of this event. At Hermosa, about 13 miles into the ride, the Animas River Valley begins to narrow down and the road with a nice shoulder so far begins to roll more and more. The San Juan’s that looked SO far away at the start actually looked reachable. A pressure point in my seat began to cut the circulation off to my left leg; I didn’t panic, but came to realize that this could make for a very long day. I reached back behind and underneath the seat to let some air out to see if that would help, it did. But, at the same time that it helped, it also lowered me and shortened my pedal stroke. Stopping at this point was not an option for me, as I wanted to get to the high country as quick as possible.
The heat of the day was starting to affect my focus, but my heart rate was still where I wanted it to be. Finally, the first big climb came into view, and more than that, people on bikes. I wanted to pass some of them, so I wouldn’t feel like I was bringing up the rear, something I’m not comfortable doing. SHALONA HILL is steep and sustained, but for only a little over 2 miles. As I climbed and passed a few struggling riders, I could feel the cooler air bringing my core temperature down. This combination of cooler air and passing people really helped my psyche out tremendously! I love to climb on that GB4 36er, it is so smooth. The road started to roll uphill more often and in a more moderate pitch. It seemed like every uphill I would pass more and more riders, but on the down hills of course they would pass me. Because I focus primarily on distance mountain uni riding, this phenomenon is not new to me, or any of you Coker heads. After passing everyone in view it was definitely time for a break, a break from the pressure that the seat was exerting on my bum. Stopping at the “San Juan National Forest” sign was a perfect spot, as there in the distance were the magnificent San Juan Mountains reaching for the sky. This is where I lowered the air seat pressure some more, and raised the seat post to match the vertical distance lost in lowering the air pressure. A quick Lara bar and off I went into the rolling hills ahead. Pretty soon I came to the Needles store, appropriately named for the Needles Mountains that are seen to the east. A stunning panorama of alpine wonder catches the eye, with (3) 14,000’ peaks rising above all. This was another good “pressure” break for me, I was half way to my mileage total, but the majority of the climbing was still ahead. I refilled my 100 oz bladder at the Aspen Café, a small café with excellent food, a super deck, and great views. I had drunk about 60 oz so far, 2-½ hrs into the ride. My core temperature was still warm, so I found some shade for a few minutes. This break was typical for me, about 5 minutes or so, this time I ate a peanut butter ball, drank some liquids, and I was ready to ride again. A couple of miles later I was at the roadblock where there were about a hundred cars and trucks waiting for the opening at 12:30. There was also the first, aid station, at the bottom of the Durango Mtn. Ski Area. I reached to adjust my helmet, and there was no helmet! OH SHIT…. I had forgotten it at the Aspen Café, and I was NOT going to ride 6 miles round trip to get it. So, when I arrived at the aid station I started asking around to see how I could get a helmet, 28 miles into the ride. I would have gone w/o, although I might have been turned back because of mandatory helmet rule. A cute young girl offered her helmet, as she wasn’t going any further. It basically sat on top of my head, no that wouldn’t work. Then a friend of hers, they were in a rather large group, that wasn’t going any further either, offered his. It fit, so off I went shaking my head at how I could forget such an important piece of equipment. As I passed the big trucks, the drivers mentioned how they were wondering when I would show up there. I told them that I was slow and steady, and to be kind when they would pass me on the narrow Mtn. Passes ahead. NO TRAFFIC for the next hour plus, how sweet it was going to be! Then the Quote of the Day happened to me. All day so far there had been many Highway Patrolmen on the road doing their thing; it was nice to have them there.
At the road closure itself was a Highway Patrolmen, out of his car. As I passed him with a smile on my face and thanking him, he said to me, “NOW, THERE IS A REAL MAN”. I smiled even more and knew that everything on the passes ahead would be all right.
Soon after the road closure the real work begins, two of the toughest Passes in the State, one right after the other. The grades are stout and long, and the sight of the San Juan’s will stop anyone in their tracks. A big right hand turn starts the climb of Coal Bank Pass. At this point, most of the same riders that I had passed earlier began to come into view again. Ah, I get to chew them up again, Pac Man style. The shoulder of the road disappears, but comes and goes up the Pass. Words of encouragement are passed back and forth as I pass riders. Three miles into the climb a sign comes into view, “Coal
Bank Summit, 4 Miles”. What, I thought I was on the Pass already. Coal Bank has no relief, it continues at a constant 7% pitch with 8% sections. This is not that steep, but at this elevation and sustained for 7 miles, it becomes difficult. As this road climbs, valleys fall away precipitously, air thins, and mountains loom and turn one behind the other. I felt really good climbing at a good pace. I kept passing riders as I thought I neared the summit. Looking back towards Durango at one point, my body got a rush of adrenaline as I could really see just how far I had gone, and how high I had climbed to that moment. I absorbed that moment as long as I could. That happened half a dozen or so times on the climb to the summit of Coal Bank Pass. Ah, that high that comes with endurance events was rushing throughout my body at regular internals now. At this time I knew that I was going to finish this EPIC event. Having to dig deep to find mental and physical strength on the climb was no problem. I had a little angel helping me today, it would bring such incredible rushes of adrenaline and endorphin’s and mental push that it kept me going time and time again. My father had passed away on Memorial Day, 9 years ago, in 1996, and I was riding the IHBC for him. I had many spiritual moments with him on that climb, tears would come with adrenaline rushes, and I would feel totally refreshed. There were spectators that had driven before the road closure and parked on the pass just to encourage the riders during the climb. At one point, one of the spectators, dressed as a devil appeared next to his truck with a boom box playing loud rock and roll. I got a high five from the “devil” as he ran next to me, then his girlfriend high fived me as well. More adrenaline, this time coming from the Devil, awesome. As I neared the Summit, the grade mellowed a little bit, so I sprinted to the summit. At the summit of Coal Bank Pass, 10,640 in elevation there was a Party going off. I rode towards the crowd, hands pointing to the sky, hooting and hollering with excitement, and got high fives from all. I was in the heart of the San Juan’s now, with Engineer Mtn. to the West and North Twilight Peak to the East. Time was running out on the road closure so I did not stop on the summit of Coal Bank. I received many comments from the crowd as I kept on going down the descent of Coal Bank, mostly commenting on not stopping. I had made the whole climb w/o stopping, 7 miles in all in about 55 minutes. My heart rate never spiked, and maintained between 160 and 170 bpm. I downed a couple of doses of energy gel, and hydrated moderately. It was sweet to ride the whole pass w/o any traffic.
The descent starts immediately and the scenery will blow your mind, as the San Juan’s fill the entire view! Ridges and ridges of 13,000’ Peaks surround you. A breathtaking sight to see, as you are trying to catch your breath. Talking about trying to stay on the road, huge drop offs with not much shoulder to save you. The bicyclists that I passed on the uphill are now passing me, as this is a 3-mile rip roaring descent of steep constant grades. I look at my watch and see that it is almost time for the road to open, so I decide to take another “pressure” break. My seat adjustment that I did earlier in the ride took care of the problems that I was having, but I still need to stop for “pressure” breaks. I stop where a volunteer is hanging out, to chat with him. He offers me water, I take him up on it, and he has ice-cold water, what a score. I had drunk about 30oz of liquid since my last fill up. I’m glad I stopped to enjoy the views and take it all in. This was a race, and I wasn’t stopping or looking around as much as I might if I was just out for the day. The San Juan’s are incredible, huge mountains, deep valleys with waterfalls high above, snow covered fields and today cumulus clouds creating a dark gray ceiling. The day had become cloudy, which was perfect for the climb up Coal Bank Pass. The road opened back up to traffic, and it was time for me to get up the last pass, Molas Pass. I knew that the traffic would be stacked up for quite awhile at first, this helped as it slowed them down. The next mile for me was still descending Coal Bank; I could feel that the descents were as always going to be tough. The bottom of Molas Pass is in view, and like Coal Bank begins with a sharp turn.
One climb to go, the highest one yet, but I don’t think it will be as hard as Coal Bank. The cars are now starting to thin out from the initial long line. I dig deep and start pushing hard again. There is not much of a shoulder, so passing people becomes quite a challenge. I know that there are the big trucks still to pass me, so I pray that I don’t encounter them as I pass rider after rider. I am completely surrounded by mountains, and the only way is up, and up. The sign “ Molas Pass Summit 4 Miles” comes into view, I get energized from seeing it. Only 4 more miles of climbing, then the last brutal descent into Silverton. The sound of the big trucks blasts my ears as they rumble behind me. At this point the vehicles aren’t going a whole lot faster than we are, but the traffic is thick in both directions. I pass more riders, as I know the top is getting close. At one point, I pass a woman who I have passed before. This time she can’t believe it, and with a voice of authority she exclaims, “You FUCKING animal” with an emphasis on the F word. More endorphins, more adrenaline, and another big push from me. I see the summit, something inside of me tells me to push, push harder. So…. I sprint to the summit of Molas Pass, 10,900’ above sea level. Emotions race throughout my body and mind. I’m crying, laughing, and getting an incredible body rush all at the same time. Life is GOOD! I pedal around the parking lot looking at Gods Country, which is surrounding me. I enjoy the moment for as long as I can, then I pedal to the aid station. Not until I dismount the GB4 36er do I of realize just how incredibly beautiful it is. The climb up Molas was hard, but easier than Coal Bank.
The elevation is higher, so oxygen is a little harder to come by. That and being the third big climb, and 40 miles into the ride, made it challenging nonetheless. The worst part was timing my passes with the traffic. So… here I was on top of the world, with Engineer Mtn, Snowdon Peak, Sultan Mtn, Whitehead Peak, and Electric Peak to name just a few of the mountains that were towering above me. The San Juan Mountains span the entire horizon with unbelievable grandeur. I am in the middle of Colorado’s largest unbroken expanse of peaks. If you have ever hiked in these mountains, then you know that beyond the view from Molas Pass lie endless peaks and ridges, for much farther than the eye can see. I wanted to bottle this moment up and take it with me, but the longer I stayed the darker the sky became. I could see thunderstorms brewing towards Silverton, and at this elevation the precipitation would be in the form of snow or sleet. I did take some pictures on top of Molas, I better as I had carried my camera the whole way. By the way, remember the women that I passed on Molas, she found me on top and gave me the biggest bear hug that I can remember.
It was time for the last leg of my EPIC Iron Horse Bicycle Classic journey, the HARDEST leg of the journey. I still had tons of energy and I felt fine. Fine as one should feel after the effort put forth to that point. I said goodbye to the outstanding views, and mounted the GB4 36er and headed down to Silverton. It was 7 miles of steep mountain road. The first couple of miles is wide open and fast and rolls. At this point, almost every car heading back to Durango was an IHBC participant. This is when the size of the event starting setting in. For the next 45 minutes horns honked, people cheered, screamed, and basically went crazy when they saw me descending into Silverton. There were buses carrying riders back and the bus drivers would honk and out of every window in the bus were outstretched hands giving me the high five, thumbs up, etc. I have experienced some incredible support before on my long rides, but this was beyond huge. I had my hands raised in excitement almost the whole ride down. Some cars would actually stop completely to offer words of encouragement and get photos. It had been a long day for everyone, but that did not stop the enthusiasm. Then I started to cramp up, oh shit… The descents usually cramp bicyclist, but have seldom affected me. The poor pre-race preparation and being dehydrated were starting to haunt me. I dismounted on an edge of road that dropped off 1000’ to the valley below, and tried to stretch the cramp out. That didn’t work either; the rain was coming down pretty hard now, so my only option was to ride. The real bummer part was that I could see Silverton, I was only 4 miles to the finish, but the cramp in the right hamstring was tightening up like a hardball. I got back on and started spinning the cramp out; it worked as the cramp went away. Now, the issue at hand was the weather. I had all the right clothing so I new that I would stay relatively dry and warm. There is no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing. I was really glad to be off the top of the pass, as the lighting and thunder were getting closer. The traction was fine with the wet roads. This part of the descent is scary with sharp corners, abrupt drop offs and very little room. The town of Silverton kept getting closer, as I spun my way down the mountain.
Finally the last hairpin turn and into the upper animas valley I rode. I crossed over Mineral Creek, which was raging with white water and low and behold the weather stopped. I was now in warming temps and partial sunshine, it was that little angel that was with me all day, which helped me get to the finish. The warm sun sent chills through my body as I entered the town of Silverton. This is your classic old Colorado mining town. It has a genuine Rocky Mountain feel to it, and after being there, you don’t want to leave. The streets were no longer filled with spectators, hell the pro racers finished almost 3 ½ hours earlier. But, there were still plenty of people that dropped what they were doing and cheered as I rode by them. It was like a wave, it started on one end of town and flowed all the way to the other end of town. I took it all in as I rode through that beautiful town. I had thoughts of family, thoughts of just riding a route that is full of road-cycling lore, thoughts of how awesome unicycling is, thoughts of peacefulness, thoughts of how incredible life really is, especially when you live it. People in Silverton had waited six hours for an unicyclist to finish the course, and there I was. Most were in disbelief, and would shake their head and ask, HOW? About ¾ of the way through town on the left is a quaint little café, Rocky Mountain Funnel Cake and Café. There, posted on the window were three signs: the first said “Go Ellen”, the second said “Free Food to Iron Horse Participant L. Armstrong”, the third which is the coolest thing ever said “Free Food to any Unicyclist who finishes the Iron Horse Bicycle Classic”. I did not find out about this café until after the race was over and we were headed back, total bummer. I sure was hungry, but more than that I wanted to meet the person behind the sign. I made it to the end of town where the finish was, by this point the organizers knew that I was on my way. I raised my arms to the sky, thanked the gods and gave out a holler that probably shook some of the old miners in their graves. I was so stoked to be there, so much that I had to pedal some before I could regain my composure and go back to the finish. The organizers surrounded me with disbelief, and congratulated me over and over. I was given a consolation prize for finishing the race/ride. It is a nice messenger bag with the IHBC logo and year embroidered on it. I talked to tons of people there at the finish line for quite along time, pictures were taking; reporters got my story and then I moved on. I called home to let my family know that I had finished, and that is when the emotions really got out of control. You know, it’s ok for a grown man to cry and by golly I did. I couldn’t thank my family enough for letting me participate in this grand event, I couldn’t help think about my dad (and mom) who I know was on my shoulder all day, and how psyched they would be. The endorphins were cranking at this time, and I was going to enjoy this moment as long as I could. I had made it, with some problems, but none that I couldn’t overcome. It wasn’t the hardest ride that I had ever done, but it is in the top three for sure. The hardest part for me was probably the first 13 miles of flat, the climbing was hard, but it always is. And 46 miles into the ride when I had my little episode of cramping. You know what else, I wasn’t the last to finish, not that that matters but it gave me a good feeling inside to see others cross the finish line after me.
I caught the last bus to Durango, along with about 20 other riders. It was a huge Q&A session all the way back to Durango. The most common question and disbelief was “How the Hell do you go down all those mountains on that thing?” I told them that I smoke lots of pot, and therefore I don’t’ feel a thing! No, really I just tell them that I go down the same way that I go up, all legs, and that I only use long cranks which helps. I don’t use brakes and hopefully for along time never will. 36ers don’t need brakes unless you drop off of a lot of stuff, which is not my style. The GB4 36er was left off at a different location in Durango than where we started, so I had a 3-mile ride back to town. I entered historic downtown and rode to the Mtn. Bike Specialist Shop where I had an IHBC jersey waiting for me. As I got closer to the shop, the same wave that happened in Silverton began to happen. People on both sides of the street were clapping, cheering, and having fun with it. I pedaled up to the shop were there was a long line of people waiting to get Tom Danielson’s autograph, that’s right TD. He was here, where he lives, rehabbing a knee injury. Durango has been biking Mecca for along time, and it was sinking in to me more and more as time went on. The people in line gave me a huge round of applause; my endorphins were going crazy again. As soon as I dismounted, the cameras and reporters were on me. There was even a TV camera there filming me. The same questions and same responses came out. I was really looking for Trailguy, and I found him. High Fives were exchanged and the story’s started coming out between us. One of my favorites was the play by play of me by the organizers on their radios. “He’s to Durango, He’s to Coal Bank Pass etc.” These people (organizers), took such good care of us unicyclists all event, it was such an honor to be part of it. I waited in line to get TD’s autograph with a fellow from Aspen, and we had some great conversations. I tried to get him to talk about his ride, but the conversation kept coming back to my ride, and how impressive it was. Also, at how it WAS the talk of the Iron Horse! I get to TD with my jersey and the fellow I was talking to starts telling TD what I had just done. TD was sincerely impressed and blown away by the effort put out. We talk about the upcoming season, etc. and I move on. Now I’m talking to the big squeeze of the event, and he introduces Ned Overand to me, now I’m talking to a Legend of the biking world. This was Ned’s 24th IHBC, and he finished third, incredible. This bike shop is awesome, it is a museum of bicycling, stop there next time your in Durango. Everyone was so interested in my ride that it took along time to finally exit the bike shop, I didn’t mind though. Trailguy and I found a restaurant to sit down and relax and have a well-earned meal. After dinner it was time to take a couple more laps through town before dark. The energy in town was so positive and everyone was partying. I made it back to the motorhome, changed into clean clothes and laid in the grass staring into the beautiful night sky. The temperature was dropping and the drainage winds were blowing. I reminisced about the past 24 hours that I had just experienced. A huge smile came across my face as some of the highlights flashed before me. Even some of the struggles that occurred had me thinking about how I would change them or make them better next time. Trailguy came pedaling up, and bless his soul, he had called the Aspen Café to see if my helmet was there.
Sure enough it was, and they were going to leave it outside for me to pick up on my way home Sunday morning. We both re-lived the day events, how could we not, it was so EPIC. The sky grew darker and my body was telling me to get some rest, so we said our good byes, & Trailguy went on his way. I cranked some Michael Franti and Spearhead in the motorhome, and chilled till my eyes couldn’t stay open any more. What a day!
Sunday was travel home day for me, I would have loved to have stayed in Durango, but I was very excited to get back to Aspen and spend the rest of the weekend with my wife and kids. Dawn came and I prepared for the road trip, but first I went to the market to grab a Sunday Durango Herald. With all of the interest of the unicyclists, I figured they would have something printed on us. Sure enough, mention of the unicyclists and my ride in two separate articles. My favorite was titled, “Unicyclist, Hand Cyclist Ride Into History”. This story was mostly about Jeff Smith, a former Navy Seal who was injured in a parachuting accident in 1994. I was honored to be in the same article as Jeff, who finished about one hour in front of me. I headed into the San Juan’s, traveling the same route as the IHBC. Flashbacks were filling my mind as I made my way to Silverton. Stopped and picked up my helmet at the Aspen Café where I left. I had to stop at the restaurant in Silverton that had posted the sign in the window. I needed to see it firsthand. Dropping into the upper Animas River valley was a treat, as I re-lived my wonderful descent just 18 hours prior into Silverton. The town of Silverton was empty at this hour, with just a few Harley riders getting geared up. After searching both sides of the street, I spotted the sign. There it was, still hanging in the window next to the Lance Armstrong sign. I took some pictures, and left the owner a note thanking him for his generosity and thoughtfulness. I wanted to meet them in person, but the café was still closed. Leaving Silverton that Sunday was pretty hard. I knew that I had just experienced some of the best 36 hours of my life, and it was hard to let go. Those times in your life are so special, and seem to come mostly with hard work and dedication. Deep down I felt that I would be back to ride the IHBC again someday, which brought peace to me on that magical Sunday morning in the magnificent San Juan Mountains of Southern Colorado.
RIDE STATISTICS 34TH ANNUAL IRON HORSE BICYCLE CLASSIC
· 50 MILES- 80KM
· 28 MILES OF CLIMBING- 45KM
· STARTING ELEVATION 6,500’- 1982METERS
· HIGHEST POINT IN RIDE 10,900’- 3,322METERS – MOLAS PASS SUMMIT
· FINISHING ELEVATION 9,300’- 2,835METERS
· COAL BANK PASS SUMMIT 10,630- 3231METERS
· CLIMBING TOTAL 6,941’- 2,116METERS
· DESCENDING TOTAL 4,302’-1311METERS
· TOTAL TIME 6Hr 15min
· RIDING TIME 5Hr 20min
· FASTEST MALE PRO 2Hr18min
· HEARTRATE AVG 156bpm
· STARTING UNICYCLIST 7 TOTAL
· TOTAL RIDERS 2,000+
· TRAILGUYS RIDE 28 MILES!!!
GB4 36ER, 175MM CRANKS, NO BRAKES, AIR SEAT, GB4 HANDLE
