Hopkins 4K for Cancer

June 29, 2006

Boulder, CO
Wiggins, CO, through Boulder, CO, and UP

103 miles

The Rocky Mountains were one of the most anticipated landmarks on this trip, talked about vividly before we even set out on our bikes on day one. For all of us they represented a challenge and serene beauty, as well as a change from our now daily exposure to flat terrain. As a cyclist, the thought of climbing around in the Rockies was romanticized to say the least. I wanted to hit that mountain full force and show it everything I was capable of. It was certainly a day to give it ones personal best.

Not only did we climb into the Rockies today, but we also had seen them appear as tiny shades on the horizon that morning as we set out over 80 miles East of the foothills. A century ending in a climb of over 4000 ft. The day was anticipated to be so demanding on the group that the final ascent was deemed optional, to be done on our day off with a full night’s rest if one chose, without initially tiring yourself out for 80 miles. To our amazement, EVERYONE rose up to this challenge and completed this demanding century with plenty of daylight to spare.

It never used to be this way. In the past, the 4K has had a day off in Boulder, CO, right outside the foothills, recovering from the long days in the plains before climbing up into the mountains. This year, circumstances forced us to do otherwise. Back in Sedalia, MO, our leg leader, Garrett, had been in contact with the church in Boulder that would be hosting us. Although they were unable to host us in the church, they were offering their cabin deep in the woods at 10,000 ft. In addition, they would bring bike mechanics to us to donate their time, replace all of our bike chains, and prepare us a feast at the cabin itself. It was a great deal, but it made for a tough day. It became the topic for a heated debate, involving what parts of the trip to make optional, or whether or not to do it at all. When made a group decision though, everyone opted to give it a try.

The day became known as the Boulder Challenge, and was one of the most talked about, most hyped up days of the trip. The hype was a double edged sword, because it turned out that being completely forthcoming about the terrain would freak people out, and once the full story was out, it became a common saying that “this day is gonna rip me up.” In retrospect though, I think this hype and fear (which was in a large part, my fault) ended up causing so much mental preparation and excitement that it played a large part in pushing everyone up the mountain. People, including me, saw the day as a grandiose one, where it became most appropriate to dedicate the ride to someone and truly mean it. Almost like there was more honor to those in our thoughts when they were pushing us through such an intense, romanticized day. There was no room to fail!

Today I rode for fellow rider Jessica and her friend Catherine, who collectively gave me a real reason to ride as strong and fast as I could.

With all this energy and excitement, we set out from Wiggins, only to fall over. Derick bolted up the church driveway with me, hit the loose, sandy surface that made up the back roads of the town, and toppled onto his side. Erin passed by him, laughing hysterically, only to lose balance and fall over a few feet later. Two blocks later I was looking back on a war zone of cyclists either flopped over in the dirt, laughing, or slowly walking through the street. We regrouped on the pavement, energy still high, and took off. I ended up riding with Derick and Erin for most of the day, for they were in a similar mindset to attack the Rockies as hard as possible, holding nothing back. The first 15 miles took us south, but then we turned straight west and bolted towards the Rockies. I got my first flat of the trip right around here, and was so pissed that it happened on THIS day that you couldn’t even speak to me…..

As the three of us bolted along, the Rockies slowly started to come into view (except for Derick, who was stricken with colorblindness…. it took a little longer for him). From about 50 miles away you could barely see the snowcaps appearing as what looked like a layer of clouds. 20 miles later their outline was in full view. Then their colors became more defined, until from 10 miles out they dominated everything you saw. Whereas in the plains there were no visual stimuli to drive you forward, the looming Rockies constantly reminded us of our goal, and we bolted forward at an insane pace. We even skipped lunch, and regrouped at a gas station a few miles from the foot of the climb. As we neared Boulder and the turnoff to the climb we started seeing tons of cyclists, almost to the point where they became more numerous than cars. Not only was the landscape changing, but the culture was as well – drastically.

The entire climb was on a road called Lefthand Canyon drive, and here there literally were more cyclists than cars – it was notorious for that. The terrain began with a gentle slope and got steeper as the climb progressed, like a parabola if you will. By now we had been pushing so hard all day that our legs felt drained, and I was counting on my recent snacking to help get me up the hill. Derrick opted to take a long nap at the bottom, and Erin and I started up separately. Long climbs boil down to personal, lonely trials, and even two riders who are closely matched in fitness will rarely end up climbing together at their own pace.

Alone on the bike, I watched the mile markers count upward from 1 towards 18, my only indication of progress. I started passing beautiful mountain streams with clear water and evergreens surrounding – crazy considering that just earlier we were in dry, flat ranchland. The hill moved onwards, turn after turn. I kept pushing, feeling a little sick from all the food I had eaten too recently. Gooey packs of sugar kept me going. The air got colder; the rain clouds rolled in over top of me and let me have it for a few miles. At mile marker 15 the road made a sharp right away from the stream it had been following and suddenly got extremely steep, throwing down the gauntlet and forcing my butt out of the saddle to keep moving. I saw a painted phrase on the road saying “Whose your daddy now?” I mile more of this insanity and I was nearing the town of Ward, a tiny village where the top of the climb came into view over one more rise. Once the end was in sight, it was as if there was an extra burst of energy (this turned out to be true for everyone), and I bolted to the top.

Dizzy, either from the altitude or the oxygen debt in my system, I started bolting around on this amazing road upstairs, where I could now view the valley below. Looking back eastward, I could not even see the plains anymore – we were so deep in the mountains already that they were all we could see for miles. After a few tries, I finally found the discreet dirt road, with James’s help, that would take us back to the cabin. After taking a trip up this insane off-road trail (via our host’s 4WD car) for two miles to see our secluded cabin (beautiful), I came back down to catch some other riders as they passed by the turnoff, nearly screaming with excitement as they finished their amazing day. Some even chose to finish the day with a two-mile hike up this trail in their spandex and cleats.

I was simply amazed how everyone had made it up this climb in a window of a few hours, even those who had sworn to me that it would kill them, and that they weren’t even going to try. They all did it. Today was the first time that this point hit me: willpower and determination can take a body a long way. Mental attitudes are so closely tied with what we can do physically, no matter how fit or unfit we are. Knowing you can do it is half the battle. Then it hit home even more. Think about cancer. This realization applies to cancer patients too. Attitude is everything. Love your life. Never give up.

-Ryan t