Durango Dirty Century + The Don Ride!

Last weekend Doug and Jon drove down to Durango to kick off a big weekend of riding for the three of us. We began with the Durango Dirty Century, a 100-mile race that included 13,000 feet of climbing, lots of hiking through snowdrifts, and some of the sweetest singletrack anywhere. On Sunday we drove over to Salida for the July 4th Don Ride, which begins at framebuilder Don McClung's house at 4:30am and climbs to the Continental Divide, traverses the Monarch Crest, and takes in Silver Creek and the Rainbow Trail all the way past Hwy 285, over Methodist Mountain, to Bear Creek and back to Salida. We'd each put in 24+ solid hours of riding over those three days. (All photos by Chad Cheeney... thanks Chad!)

Rollin' out on 203

Our Saturday began with spinning up the bike path at dawn, heading for the DDC start at San Juan Cycles. After signing in and a bit of sitting around, we began more or less on time and headed up the road towards Hermosa and the Hermosa Creek Trail. The neutral roll-out ended once we hit the climb to the trailhead and Doug and I ended up in a small group off the front. Having ridden Hermosa Creek the week before, I knew it was extremely dusty, and having eaten plenty of said dust riding behind friends the week before, I was determined to lead into the singletrack. One turn before the trailhead I made a little break for it and no one followed... I guess they figured I was going too early. Thus I found myself enjoying the beautiful trail all alone in the early morning light, working at what seemed like a perfectly reasonable pace, completely dust-free. After a few miles Doug caught me, and we finished out Hermosa Creek together. As it turned out, we wouldn't be more than a half-mile apart for the rest of the day.

Kerkove on Hermosa Creek

On the way up Bolam Pass Chris McGovern, who had been trying to catch us all along Hermosa Creek, finally caught and passed us. I was leading Doug a bit at this point and just let Chris go, figuring that once we hit the much more difficult, snow/mud-bound singletrack at the top, we'd reel him back in. At the top of the climb I sat down, pulled off my gear, and ate some lunch... I hate eating on the go. McGovern was only a few hundred yards ahead by the top and apparently didn't really know where he was going. I pointed out the CT and away he went. Doug showed up and set about catching McGovern, but not before Jeff Kerkove, my friend Ryan Douglas, and one other guy caught us. Ryan sat down to eat something and I began the chase.

The unidentified guy and Kerkove weren't very far up the trail and after passing them I went for Doug and Chris, which took a bit more doing. Finally catching them on a hike-a-bike section, we three proceeded to climb up Blackhawk Pass, hiking most the way as there was snow everywhere! While some trail was rideable, most of the trail going up was a hike even without snow, just because it was so soft and, sometimes, churned - I can't decide whether I like horses or voles less. As we hiked up the pass, I glanced up at the top and saw a mirage-like image - a string of pack horses, silhouetted against the bluebird sky, a thousand feet above us. I wish I'd had a camera!

At the top of the pass we ate (a common theme for the day), then clipped in for a hellacious descent down the south side of Blackhawk. Along the way we traversed a large snowfield and McGovern, clad in racer-y shoes, ended up sliding down the length of it at increasing speed as I shouted "Handlebar arrest!" After making sure he was okay we sped down the trail, across Hotel Draw, and on towards Indian Trail Ridge. I felt good through this stretch and began to push the pace, dropping McGovern and pulling Doug along on the climbs, only to have Doug breathe down my neck on every descent. I've never met anyone else who descends so fast on a 26" carbon hardtail, bar none - and I've worked with an awful lot of our country's top XC racers. Doug's fast.

We finally broke out of the woods and began the hike-a-bike towards Indian Trail Ridge proper, and as Doug stopped to put a little air in his tire I realized I was famished. One of the famous Sow Your Oats cookies from Bread hit the spot, but wasn't quite enough to enable me to keep up with Doug on the high-altitude, hike-a-bike-ridden, techy alpine trail for the next few miles. Altitude is a crapshoot for me - sometimes good, sometimes bad. This day wasn't terrible, but not good - in conjunction with my level of fatigue after 60+ miles of racing, the altitude had me feeling a little delirious, and I stumbled around on the ridge, watching Doug get smaller ahead of me, obsessively checking over my shoulder for the chaser I expected to inevitably catch me. After what seemed like forever going up and down steep rocky trail with no oxygen, I finally pulled into the section leading up to Kennebec Pass. Doug was stopped at the minimal aid station there (thanks Carson and Colin!), and I filled up my bottles quickly and we pulled out together.

Heading up towards Indian Trail Ridge

Doug and I on the homestretch

Railing down from Kennebec was quite fun, and once we dropped below treeline, I began to feel much better again. While I wasn't looking forward to the climb out of Junction Creek, I knew it would be okay. Following Doug up the climb, I felt good, almost fresh! Amazing what a few thousand feet of elevation loss can do for you... we flew down the final decent and popped out of the woods, with only a road sprint back into town to finish. We were followed a video-camera-toting Chad Cheeney (who had started the race, but broken his frame only 8 miles in) for a while before he dropped off to film others on the B route. Doug and I sprinted into town, crossed the highway, and pulled in to the finish tent - Doug finished first, and I came in... first too! While riding with Doug before Indian Trail Ridge, I had been wondering what would happen if the two of us came out of the woods together, as we'd been riding together all day. I thought about asking him if he'd like to share the win. When I caught him at Kennebec, Doug surprised me by asking the exact same thing. What better way to end it, I thought, than as we rode all day? Our shared time ended up at 12:22, less than an hour over last year's winning time, even though last year's course was in perfect shape and we spent much time dealing with snow in 2011. Fun but difficult!

The only prize you'll find for the DDC

Sunday was spent loafing around, washing bikes, grocery shopping, and driving to Salida. We camped out in Kevin Thomas' backyard, listened to his loud neighbors for a while, fell asleep, and woke up at 3:30am to prepare for yet another long day. As tradition dictates, we gathered at legendary framebuilder Don McClung's house at just past 4am, a huddled group of riders in the pre-dawn darkness. After some socializing, we hit the road and spent the next three hours taking a network of county roads, old railroad grade, doubletrack, and singletrack to the top of Monarch Pass, where we set off on the Continental Divide via the Monarch Crest Trail.

We had been forewarned about the "massive" amounts of snow along the Crest. Compared to the snow we ran into along the DDC route, the Crest was positively clear... three big snowfields, two with mountaineering-style descents off snow cliffs. Quickly dispatched, the rest of the trail was dry, a welcome change from the DDC's snow/mud consistency along much of the route.

All the way up to the pass, I had been feeling Saturday's race quite acutely. At one point I literally thought I would have to turn around, but soldiered through to the pass. Once on the Crest, over 12K, a funny thing happened: My legs just quit hurting. It took about four hours, but all of a sudden I felt fresh again, and kept it all the way through the rest of the Crest, down the amazing Silver Creek descent, the Rainbow traverse, and to our lunch spot along Hwy 285. Not sure how that's possible, but it gives me a little hope for CTR possibilities...

Time to put this ride (and this post) to bed: After lunch, we rode (walked, really) up and over Methodist Mountain on the Rainbow Trail. The Bear Creek trail seemed to go on forever, and it appeared that all three of us (Doug, Jon, myself) cracked here. I've never actually seen Doug or Jon crack at all, and while it's gratifying to know they're mortal, you know you're in deep if they're showing signs of physical distress. After taking several food/rest breaks, we coasted down the final dirt road descent into the furnace that turned out to be Salida, suffered along the railroad grade back into town, and promptly got in the river, which was the perfect degree of icy for our sore legs and burning skin.

All in all, a superb weekend of riding. The CTR is less than four weeks away... not yet sure what I'm doing about that. We shall see. Cheers!

-Joey