Hopkins 4K for Cancer

July 1, 2006

Estes Park, CO
July 1st will go down as possibly my favorite day of biking I have yet to enjoy in my life. The planned day was a short crossing on Peak to Peak highway from the top of Ward to Estes Park, however Katie had had an idea the night before. What if the two of us rode through Estes Park and up Trail Ridge Road that day as well? Then we could drive the vans the next day as the rest of the group ascended the pinnacle climb of the summer and no one would be left out. A few of us had been planning to ride back down from Ward to Boulder to do the Lefthand Canyon climb again as well, so we decided that we would still do that climb as well.

The day started well, 16 mile descents tend to have that affect on me. At the bottom we turned to ascend. With fresh legs I felt great and my excitement over the rest of the day helped to push me up the hill. After a quick stop at the general store we continued along to Estes Park. The rolling hills led to some amazing views of the Rockies, we were really in them now. We rode conservatively to save our legs for the 20 mile ascent of Trail Ridge Road. After 35 miles of beautiful scenery, a picturesque mountain lake, and many photos we descended into the park. It seemed that our plan was foiled though, because as soon as we entered Estes the thunder and lightning started. We debated under an overhang for a minute and decided to head to our host, the YMCA of the Rockies, before any attempt at the climb. After checking the weather I lost all hope of fulfilling our day. The thunderstorms seemed endless and the sky outside was not clearing. After a couple hours, I saw our chance: the skies had cleared, it was now or never. We suited up in all our cold gear, it would be cold and windy at the top, and we needed to be ready. We also made plans for vans to come check on us in a few hours, just to be safe.

Even though I missed the moment of silence I had decided that that day would be for my grandfather, Samuel Siegel. I started the climb well, I was worried about stopping for so long beforehand, but I felt surprisingly good. The views were better than I remembered, but there would be no photos today as I had left my camera back in case of rain. It turns out I made the right choice as the rain started about halfway up. Big deal, rain never hurt anyone and I trudged upwards. The rain worsened and turned to hail. I thought of my grandfather, of the strength I saw in him as he battled cancer on more than one occasion. The strength he showed until the day he passed, and I kept going. I thought of something from Lance Armstrong’s books, how he would ride more and harder when the conditions worsened. I wanted more, I wanted the worst the mountain could throw at me; I wanted a fight from it, cause there was nothing that was going to keep me from kicking its ass. After a few miles the storm was gone as quickly as it came. I reached tree line and I tried to push harder. I remember cresting the false summit and seeing the switchbacks to the real summit ahead. I ended the day 100 miles from where I started and over 2 mountains. I remembered my grandfather. Best day of my life.

-Joe S

----------------------------


Ward to Estes Park journal

First of all, the mountains are absolutely amazing. Yesterday we had a tough climb to Ward, but everyone made it, and we had a great day off exploring Boulder and the forests where our cabin was. Starting at the top of a mountain meant that today was almost entirely downhill, never a bad thing. After a frustrating two-mile walk down a dirt path with our bikes, a lot of us were a bit grumpy, but as soon as we started on our twenty-mile descent, it was hard to stay mad. Gravity was our friend today, whizzing past the scenery at twenty to thirty miles an hour.

On the short climb in the middle of our day, I got fed up with the manners of the more serious Colorado cyclists. I’ve started to notice that the most they’ll give you is shallow nod, even if you’re waving and shouting so enthusiastically that you fall off your bike. My uncle, who I visited in Boulder, explained that it’s just cyclist etiquette to not acknowledge each other, but, in my opinion, that’s not exactly etiquette. Ryan explained it more clearly to me, saying that all cyclists see you as competition and, rather than wave, they use their energy to size you up and feel threatened. Honestly, I don’t see what’s so threatening about a little girl in a floral tank top, but apparently I’m a danger to Lance Junior’s pride. So, rather than wave and acknowledge that we have things in common, I’ve started making brief, menacing eye contact, and then putting on my best “I don’t mess around” cyclist face (gritted teeth, snarled lip, furrowed brow, intense stare straight ahead) and using my drop bars. That way, even though I’m only going about ten miles an hour, I at least feel like I fit in.

After reaching the top, the unpredictable mountain weather started boiling, with huge black clouds rolling in over Long’s Peak to our left and more rolling toward us from the right. Knowing it was all downhill from there to Estes Park, Ryan, Jake, James, Chris and I decided to book it down the mountain and get to the YMCA before it started pouring on us. We started flying down the hills, taking turns at about as fast as we could take them, watching the lightning and thunder roll in from either side. Going down the mountain was about the most intense thing I’ve ever done. We made it into Estes much, much sooner than I would’ve anticipated, and were welcomed at the YMCA of the Rockies with real beds and hot showers, a combination that 4k’ers aren’t especially accustomed to. All in all, it was an amazing day, and I can only hope that the rest of the Rockies are this exhilarating.

-Emma K