Leadville Or Bust 4: Mountains Over 14K

 

Like hurricanes, like cyclones, wildfires are named.  Usually, by the first responders or dispatchers and after the nearest geographic feature--like a road, creek, mountain, or landmark.  No people companies or slag according to protocol.  Communications cannot be vauge and tacky when the flames are hot and the wind is whipping.  

As we started west from the Interstate, we drove south of the massive 82,000 acre Aspen Fire, the third largest in Colorado history.  Highway closures, evacuations, and thousands of fire fighters, the northern sky was a white cloud of smoke.  We drove on, eventually getting near the Willow Fire, less than 5 miles from Leadville.  No staying in Half Moon campsite near Turquoise Lake, the campsite and the lake were closed.

Plan B was to go north through Leadville to the Hornsilver Campsite near Red Cliff.  It was open and elevated, right off the road between massive rock cliffs on both sides and several 14ers (mountains over 14k) stacked and shaded, still burning, still smoking, but partially contained somehow.  The best firefighters in the world were snuffing it out one hotspot at a time.  We saw them during our earlier slow roll through Leadville-- magnificent, well equiped, organized.  The town was calm, by Tuesday we'd know if the race was on, we were optimistic.

Leadville Or Bust 3: Cinnamon Colored Black Bear

 

The cinnamon colored black bear looked at us with a frozen shock. It was strolling down the Capulin Volcano road looking for whatever, sort of goofy and cartoonish, unaware and slow.  The 20 yard face off lasted 45 seconds, then the cinnamon colored black bear took a dive off the road and ran down the steep elevation fast and reckless.  We stared it down, we stared it off, we couldn't hardly believe what we were staring at.  According to my wife, Capulin Volcano averages one bear sighting per year.

With renewed adrenaline we pedeled on, eventually reaching the Capulin volcano rim, eventually taking in the 4th Of July sunset from 8,182 feet.  Each rock in the distance was an ancient spark from the largest firecracker of the past 60,000 years.  Volcanoes do what they want, when they want, kinda like Americans. The dark ride back to the Capulin RV Park was fast and free, 5 miles of coasting.  It was a cool night, we slept deep and easy.

We departed early the next morning, no reason to hang around Capulin RV Park.  The hot water don't work, the laundry room isn't a laundry room, and the caretakers of the place own loud dogs.  It was for sale and it showed.  With no news on the status of the Silver Rush MTB50, we headed west and hit the Colorado state line at 9am, Leadville was near.  We could smell it.

Leadville Or Bust 2: Palo Duro Morning

 

As a mountain bike rider sidekick, it's important to be a rider yourself.  It just is.  Within 24 hours of being in Palo Duro, we took 4 separate rides, 35 miles of climbs and decents and rough canyon trails through incredible scenes.  Legs don't build themselves, lungs don't acclimate automatically, every mile is earned the way all things worth developing are earned.  Brown took off, he had specific preparation objectives, he was testing out a pesky rib injury.

Palo Duro is a marvel of nature, of course, but also of New Deal intention and labor.  Paved roads, campsites, huts, and a visitor center.  Panhandle Texans with their cars and post WW2 boom we're all over it from then on out.  I'm embarrassed to be a first time visitor at my advanced age and lifelong Texan status.  Better late than never, the 2nd largest canyon in America is worth the visit, enough said.

Tuesday's the day we'll know more about the Silver Rush MTB50, on or off or in between, its irrelevant to our movement.  We must continue towards Leadville.  Independence Day started with a French pressed Palo Duro morning, a fine and delicious hamburger at the Palo Duro Trading Post, and a drive to Capulin RV Park.  From there, an evening ride to sit atop the Capulin Volcano is planned. Should be a hazy New Mexican sunset, the smoke is close.         

Leadville Or Bust 1: Into The Smoke

 

Fires raged in the Rockies, it was unclear if the 2026 Silver Rush 50MTB in Leadville, Colorado would even occur.  We checked for updates and speculated, but we set out west, as planned, on the 1st of July without fear, without worry.  Brown was entered and paid up, his second Siver Rush 50, I signed on as medic, media coordinator, and part time chef.  Every mountain bike rider needs a crew.

The webpage description of the race...

Put your grit, guts and determination to the test with a 50-mile course that packs more punch (per mile) than even the mighty Race Across the Sky. From technical climbs to high-speed descents, the Silver Rush 50 MTB takes riders across Leadville’s breathtaking panoramas and under the shadow of 14,000-foot Rocky Mountain peaks. With 8,000 feet of elevation gain over 50 miles, Silver Rush offers the perfect trial run — and qualifying event — for the Race Across The Sky.

I'll do what I can, stay silent when best to stay silent, speak up when when needed.  Keep the tunes down in the evening and up in the afternoon.

By the end, it's 2 nights in Palo Duro canyon, 1 night near the Capalin volcano, and 8 nights in Leadville.  Plan A, but we got plan B ready to plan, and plan C if it comes to it.  Even our plans have plans.  But, somehow, through it all, we have no plans.  We'll know by Tuesday, the race organizers wrote, head this way, stay close.  It's Leadville or bust, into the smoke.

Dumpster Diver

 

I'm a dumpster diver.

Cold blooded survivor.

Went dumpster diving.

For my phone.

My dog was restless.

Been making messes.

Before I dove in,

Took Teddy home.

Couldn't call nobody.

Was a super hot Friday.

Meeting my kin folk,

Gotta get my phone.

One of those big ones.

Not one of the little ones.

Had to get a step stool.

Coulda broke a bone.

The minute I jumped in.

The smell was something.

But I kept going,

I was all alone.

And I got it.

Yes, I got it.

Good God, I got it.

I got my phone.

Only now I think back,

Nothing could hold me back.

Was on a mission.

Into the unknown.

Dumpster diver.

Cold blooded survivor.

Went dumpster diving.

For my phone.

*Laney Gorman co-write.

GC

G

D

G

Like Nothing

 

Like eating cardboard for days.

Like heavy air full of silence.

Like a sharp edge of ice.

Like a suit hung up in a bag.

Like a drooping and dying flower.

Like a sentence of some sort.

Like an ignored bumblebee.

Like a flickering candle flame.

Like nothing.

Golden Tempo

 

Renegade, Albus, Intrepido.

Wonder Dean from Japan made the show.

Sunday Silence was his great grandpa.

Won the Derby and Preakness, almost won 'em all.

At the Post Parade they all colored up.

Litmus Test going for the Derby Cup.

Great White scratched by the vets.

Flipped his rider before the field was set.

So Happy and with Further Ado.

Incredibolt and Chief Wallabee, too.

Ocelli was ready, Commandment was not.

Six Speed had jitters, Potente had knots.

No one was watching Golden Tempo.

As they came down the stretch he was last, ya know.

Then he made his move on the outside lane.

Blew away the field like a bullet train.

CGFCx2

FFFC

CGFC