La Veta CO to Alamosa CO
Wind is a four-letter word… and we called it a few other four-letter words I will not share with you. These words were shouted repeatedly at the wind like it would make a difference.
Our day started with a 20-mile climb out of the valley to La Veta Pass. The air was cool but the sun was shining as we reached the top. Snow can still be found on the ground above 9000 feet in the Rockies. The grade is not extremely steep but it is a steady 20-mile climb that eats up horsepower. Life is good….
We knew our efforts of climbing would be rewarded with another fantastic 25-mile downhill to the valley floor. Then we had another 20+ miles of relatively flat running to Alamosa before the climb up to Wolf Creek Pass. This was going to be a good day to make up some lost time.
Just as we cleared the peak and started the downhill we were hit with a windblast that was equal to the jet wash from a 747. It can’t be possible…. No Friggin’ way….. A couple of words of disappointment could be heard on our two-way radios as we started down the mountain.
This may be had to comprehend to a non-cyclist but the wind hitting us with a direct head wind at 30 to 35 mph required us to pedal to go downhill. We had to pedal to go up the hill now we have to pedal to go down. Even pedaling downhill speeds were only slightly faster than our climbing speed as incredible as it may seem.
I can’t explain the disappointment we felt having been robbed of our downhill by the wicked wind. In our minds we knew this could not last all day. Not agin…impossible. The wind must just be at altitude. When we get to the valley floor it will die down for the long flat run to Alamosa. No need to panic.
The trip down the mountain was only slightly faster than our trip up. A real bummer to put it lightly.
Sadly for us the valley’s winds were even possibly stronger. Our bikes were continuously being bullied around on the flats by the gusts. Most of the day we were not able to achieve speeds greater than10mph.
Physically our bodies have the power to keep the bikes moving forward even with the wind fiercely pushing us back. Mentally is another matter. You know you are dishing out enough horsepower to be going 18mph easily but you are only going 8. That is hard to take for day or even two but we have endured this mental torture for nearly 800 miles. Our planned “big” day was again going to be foiled by the wind.
We stopped at a roadside rest on the valley floor to eat some canned pears we had brought along. The wind noise was so loud it was hard to even talk to each other. Even opening the cans posed a problem. Expose the cans liquid to the wind and it would blow out onto the table. It was that bad.
We had our snack and hopped onto the bikes for some more abuse. Joe pulled ahead while Tim and Ken made an attempt to draft each other. Normally drafting another rider is an easy task but with saddlebags and a 35mph wind it is almost impossible. The lead rider can hardly run a straight line for the other rider to follow. The wind grabs the front panniers (saddlebags) and turns them away from the wind like a weather vane on a barn roof. Now the lead rider is almost in the weeds. The rider behind gets a sudden blast of wind and now he is in the weeds.
At one point Ken got off his bike let it drop onto the ground and said…”I have had enough”. Tim was feeling no better at this point but handled the situation “slightly” better. They jumped back on the bikes and pushed forward.
When the caught up to Joe outside Alamosa the decision had already been made. Joe said it was over. If we were to continue on to even the next available sleep spot it would be after 8PM. By the time you eat do laundry and our other duties it would be midnight. Having only traveled a mere 70 miles you just needed to stick us with a fork…we were done…well done.
According to The Weather Channel we are being tormented by stubborn low-pressure system that will not move. We should be glad we are on the west side of this system because the towns we just left like Dodge City are being hit hard with rain and golf ball size hail.
Tomorrow we will climb out of the valley to Wolf Creek Pass, which is over 10,800 feet and the beginning of the end of our crossing of the Rocky Mountians.
We will cross the Continental Divide in that area. The Continental Divide in the Americas is the line that divides the flow of water between the Pacific Ocean and Atlantic Ocean. Rain or snow that drains on the east side of the Continental Divide flows toward the Atlantic Ocean while precipitation on the west side drains and flows toward the Pacific Ocean.
I will have to say we put up a gallant fight but again the wind was the victor. We will lick our wounds and give it hell in the morning.
Wind is a four-letter word… and we called it a few other four-letter words I will not share with you. These words were shouted repeatedly at the wind like it would make a difference.
Our day started with a 20-mile climb out of the valley to La Veta Pass. The air was cool but the sun was shining as we reached the top. Snow can still be found on the ground above 9000 feet in the Rockies. The grade is not extremely steep but it is a steady 20-mile climb that eats up horsepower. Life is good….
We knew our efforts of climbing would be rewarded with another fantastic 25-mile downhill to the valley floor. Then we had another 20+ miles of relatively flat running to Alamosa before the climb up to Wolf Creek Pass. This was going to be a good day to make up some lost time.
Just as we cleared the peak and started the downhill we were hit with a windblast that was equal to the jet wash from a 747. It can’t be possible…. No Friggin’ way….. A couple of words of disappointment could be heard on our two-way radios as we started down the mountain.
This may be had to comprehend to a non-cyclist but the wind hitting us with a direct head wind at 30 to 35 mph required us to pedal to go downhill. We had to pedal to go up the hill now we have to pedal to go down. Even pedaling downhill speeds were only slightly faster than our climbing speed as incredible as it may seem.
I can’t explain the disappointment we felt having been robbed of our downhill by the wicked wind. In our minds we knew this could not last all day. Not agin…impossible. The wind must just be at altitude. When we get to the valley floor it will die down for the long flat run to Alamosa. No need to panic.
The trip down the mountain was only slightly faster than our trip up. A real bummer to put it lightly.
Sadly for us the valley’s winds were even possibly stronger. Our bikes were continuously being bullied around on the flats by the gusts. Most of the day we were not able to achieve speeds greater than10mph.
Physically our bodies have the power to keep the bikes moving forward even with the wind fiercely pushing us back. Mentally is another matter. You know you are dishing out enough horsepower to be going 18mph easily but you are only going 8. That is hard to take for day or even two but we have endured this mental torture for nearly 800 miles. Our planned “big” day was again going to be foiled by the wind.
We stopped at a roadside rest on the valley floor to eat some canned pears we had brought along. The wind noise was so loud it was hard to even talk to each other. Even opening the cans posed a problem. Expose the cans liquid to the wind and it would blow out onto the table. It was that bad.
We had our snack and hopped onto the bikes for some more abuse. Joe pulled ahead while Tim and Ken made an attempt to draft each other. Normally drafting another rider is an easy task but with saddlebags and a 35mph wind it is almost impossible. The lead rider can hardly run a straight line for the other rider to follow. The wind grabs the front panniers (saddlebags) and turns them away from the wind like a weather vane on a barn roof. Now the lead rider is almost in the weeds. The rider behind gets a sudden blast of wind and now he is in the weeds.
At one point Ken got off his bike let it drop onto the ground and said…”I have had enough”. Tim was feeling no better at this point but handled the situation “slightly” better. They jumped back on the bikes and pushed forward.
When the caught up to Joe outside Alamosa the decision had already been made. Joe said it was over. If we were to continue on to even the next available sleep spot it would be after 8PM. By the time you eat do laundry and our other duties it would be midnight. Having only traveled a mere 70 miles you just needed to stick us with a fork…we were done…well done.
According to The Weather Channel we are being tormented by stubborn low-pressure system that will not move. We should be glad we are on the west side of this system because the towns we just left like Dodge City are being hit hard with rain and golf ball size hail.
Tomorrow we will climb out of the valley to Wolf Creek Pass, which is over 10,800 feet and the beginning of the end of our crossing of the Rocky Mountians.
We will cross the Continental Divide in that area. The Continental Divide in the Americas is the line that divides the flow of water between the Pacific Ocean and Atlantic Ocean. Rain or snow that drains on the east side of the Continental Divide flows toward the Atlantic Ocean while precipitation on the west side drains and flows toward the Pacific Ocean.
I will have to say we put up a gallant fight but again the wind was the victor. We will lick our wounds and give it hell in the morning.
4 comments:
Ken, hard to believe you guys have been pedaling for 25 days! Hell, I can't even drive that long in my T-Bucket! Kudos to all you guys! Stock up on brake pads before you start the western side of the Rockies!!!!
Redneck
Nice scenery Ken, the ride is killing me from my chair! Hope luck was better today.
Redneck Motorhead,
You could not afford the gas those Hot Rod HiPo motors would need to go this far no matter how much Dummio pays you.....
So far So good for us.
MoHill,
Must keep you anonymous because other contractors want to kidnap you.... Sitting in a CHAIR??? Is that what goes on all day don’t tell PL? You can fix all your problems with the summer off. YakFish…yard sales….or pull out the motorized Iguana and head out west to meet us.
Ms MoHill would kill you if you hung around the billion dollar mansion on the hill all day. So if you blow off the summer you better have a place to go.
Get those St Croix ready for action we can hit the hot spots.
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