Leaving town, I had some trouble finding Highway 16. I even pedaled back half a mile and asked a boy at the grocery store for directions and STILL almost missed the inconspicuous road with no signage. Once I was on the road I wanted to make doubly sure so I knocked on the door of a house to ask. When no one answered I tried their neighbor. 

He told me I was on the right road, and added,

“You sure have some climbing ahead of you.”

Now that he had pointed it out I eyed the road ahead and followed the line up and over the mountain, then started preparing psychologically for the climb.

I had looked at the map, and you would’ve thought that the next two towns, “Hytop” and “Skyline,” would have given me some indication that there might POSSIBLY be some climbing in my future, but apparently I’m just not that smart.

It was already hot, and the road was steep. After half a mile I stopped under a shade tree, my heart hammering. After another half a mile I started “tacking,” that is, going back and forth across the road to decrease the steepness of the grade. Be aware that while it helps you get up a steep hill, this is a TERRIBLE idea if there’s any ambient noise. Today, however, I was accompanied only by silence, and could hear a car approaching from a safe distance.

When I saw a motorcyclist pass me, a huge grin on his face, WITH HIS ENGINE OFF, I knew I was in for a workout.

That was also when it dawned on me...  “If a motorcycle could coast down the mountain with his engine off, so could a car.” After that I tacked less, and when I did I put my hearing on High Alert.

My modus operandi was to set a goal: “I’m just going to make it to that tree.” When I got close, if I still had any breath, I would adjust it. “I’ll stop at the sign.” In this fashion, I inched my way up the mountain.

The scenery was stunning, although it might’ve been the euphoria from my hypoxia.

At one point, some guys in a car slowed down as they passed and asked me if I wanted a cold beer. A little dehydration, a little hypoxia, a little alcohol… tempting, but probably not the best combination.

I was determined to make it without pushing my bike up a single inch when… all of a sudden… it was over.  “That’s it?” I wondered. Having ridden in Colorado, albeit not very much, I had been expecting to pedal for several hours before reaching the summit.