Gunnison-Crawford: Scenic Hwy 92 comes at a price.

July 15, 2009

Lodging: Crawford Country Store and Motel 970-921-5040 $60. Queen Bed

Isn't it interesting that the fellow who doesn't like to get up in the morning thinks we should start at first light (5:30 AM)? Yes, Jacinto thinks we should start early. He just rode Highway 92 on Ride the Rockies and found it to be a very long day. Jacinto is a fast rider, if he was suffering, then you know it's a tough road. Ken and I agreed to the 5:30 start

I spent the night tossing and turning, checking the clock to see how much longer I could sleep. I felt like I hadn't slept at all when I finally got up at 4:30. Ironically enough, Jacinto opted out of the early start. He decided to take a chance with the terrain and the wind - he said it was just too dark and cold at 5:30.

Ken arrived at the door right on time. Off we went down the deserted Main Street. I had a tail light, but no head light. Ken had a nifty front light generated by the hub of the front wheel - he rode in front and I followed. Three - four miles out of town I told Ken to go ahead and take advantage of the early start. I knew he was a much faster rider and was just hanging with me to be polite. Off he went and I was left alone to enjoy the sunrise, lack of traffic and the birds singing good morning.

Ken and I started at 5:30 AM - we knew it would be a long, hot climb up Hwy 92. The early start was Jacinto's idea - but he couldn't peel himself out of bed.

I very much enjoy cycling in the early mornings. The air is fresh and clean. The scenery changes as the sun rises. Often there are animals out eating their breakfast. It's more fun for me when I get out early and beat the heat, wind, and RV's.

I kept watching for the camping people to appear. I didn't know if they would be ahead or behind me. When I reached the turn for Hwy 92 I saw a couple of cyclists. But they weren't our group. It was a young couple who were headed to California. This would be their first day cycling together, although they previously knew each other. They were just starting out, having camped at the reservoir. Their destination was Telluride, at least 100 miles and a couple of stiff climbs away. I wonder if they arrived on schedule?

I always enjoy a pretty sunrise. This is Blue Mesa Reservoir.

John showed up just as we were going our separate ways. He and I would leap frog each other the rest of the day. He said the camping had been nice, they were able to get a spot with some shade. There was food available at the campground. Moni and Fred hadn't left camp yet. I would be able to entertain myself watching for them in my rear view mirror.

Should we be worried about these clouds?

I now know the name of this rock formation - Dillon Pinnacles.

This couple was headed all the way to Telluride today - over 100 miles. I wonder if they made it?

To be honest, I approached this day with some trepidation. In 2001 I had ridden Hwy 92 fully loaded, heading into Gunnison. I did not know what I was getting in to. It seemed the climb would never end. Yes, the scenery was beautiful and the lack of traffic ideal. But I did not have any idea about the terrain. Up, down, up down, repeat. None of the grades were too steep, but they were never ending. Hwy 92 for me was like giving birth. I remembered that it was tough, really tough. But several years later the difficulty had faded in my mind and all that was left was the beauty of the ride. Until today - then there were some niggling thoughts in the back of my mind that this would be one of those character building days. It did not help that Jacinto had just ridden Hwy 92 and spoke over and over again of how tough the day was. He generally enjoys a challenge. If Jacinto thinks it's a difficult day . . . .

As I approached each corner and climb I thought to myself, "This isn't so bad. This isn't so bad." There was one extended climb that I could see from far off. It was a switch back type road. We went down hill on one side. I couldn't enjoy the downhill fully because on the other side I could see where we had to regain all of the elevation we lost. It wasn't difficult in steepness - just long. Other than the one extended climb, Hwy 92 is very reasonable heading out of Gunnison. Or maybe I really am in good shape this year. Truthfully, I think I'm in average riding condition. So, this must be one of those roads that has a hard side and an easy side.

My camera takes pretty good close up photos. I should try it more often.

It's strange that I've cycled all of these years and never took note that when you cross a river, you go downhill to the river and uphill away from it. I learned that lesson in Canada last summer. We rode across many drainages. Up, down, up, down. There was plenty of opportunity to confirm this on Hwy 92. Hwy 92 also follows the curve of the mountain rather than building bridges across the valley. This ride is unique for following the curves of the mountain. We would be curving to the right, heading downhill and be able to look directly across the valley and see the long, long road we would next be climbing.

This man from Lyons and his brother were riding a two week loop.

I had seen the couple cycling earlier in the day. Then a man flashed past me as I was climbing. It appeared he was out for a day ride, with only a large seat bag. Some time later another fellow came along, this time with panniers. It was his brother, the minimalist, I had seen earlier. They had dry camped along Hwy 92. I presumed the pannier guy was carrying most of the gear, but he said they both had all of their own stuff. Just that he wanted more comfort than his brother. He was the pack mule and the brother was the scout. They were out for a Colorado tour, finding as much climbing as possible. Hwy 92 is a good road for climbing!

The very small blob to the bottom left of the photo is a largish boat. It is a long, long way to the bottom of the Black Canyon.

I bicycled up to a road crew mowing grass along the roadside. I stopped to chat with the foreman. I asked how far to the top. One of the crew snorted at the question. I took his reaction to mean I was naive about the road conditions ahead. The boss was a bit more gentle in his reaction. He said that the road goes up and down all the way to Crawford, but the worst of the climb was over by the Hermit's Rest pull out. We chatted some more about the wet weather this spring and how beautiful the area was. I agreed that he had quite a good view from his 'office'.

More climbing and descending, lots of looking around at the beautiful views. That is one advantage of riding a recumbent, my head is in the perfect sight seeing position! Finally I arrived at Hermit's Rest pull out. I had been somewhat worried all morning about water. I had five bottles of water, one bottle of Spiz and two bottles of Gatorade. Which equaled a gallon of water. But I drank far more than that on the Kebler Pass day - in fact I was down to the last swallow in my last water bottle when we arrived in town. That was including the water Tim and Dustin left us. There's nothing worse than running out of water. There were quite a few cars at the pull out. I approached the first man. He sounded German and tried to hand me the bottle he was drinking out of, saying it was his only bottle and we could share. That was very kind. I told him I was sure someone else would have extra water, but thank you very much. The next person I approached had a gallon glass jar full of water. I'm sure there was a story, such as a pure water spring in some remote mountain area that she got the water from. But I did not hang out and chit chat, as I could see Ken was over under the picnic area and it appeared he was ready to leave. The lady filled one bottle up for me and I rode over to Ken.

Ken raised his voice and told me that he got a flat riding 'right there'. I quickly stopped, turned around, and parked my bike over by the rest room. I walked back to the picnic area with my burrito. Ken had just finished fixing the rear flat, but delayed leaving while he chatted with me. Soon we could see Moni and Fred coming around the bend. Moni rode right on in, over a little drainage. Fred, on his recumbent, started to follow her and came to an abrupt stop just before the dip. You can't stand up and get the weight off of the seat with a recumbent!

Moni is headed for a burrito lunch at Hermit's Rest near the top of the climb on Hwy 92.

Ken unpacked his rear roll. Inside of his space blanket he had several Taco Bell burritos he had purchased for Fred. They joked over the delivery charge for carrying the extra weight up all of those hills. Fred and Moni sat right down to their burrito stop. All of these years I thought peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were the essential touring lunch. Not this trip. Burritos it is!

These motorcycle riders from Phoenix were working their way home. They are #1 in my book as they topped off my water bottles with ice.

I was hardly around the bend before I saw three motorcyclists stopped alongside the road. I had to ask - at the risk of one of them snorting at me as the roadcrew worker had - how much further to the downhill. Of course, asking that question of someone with a combustion engine doesn't always result in a factual answer. I ended up crossing to their side of the road and we exchanged travel tales. They had been touring Colorado, seen quite a bit of the country and were now heading back home to Phoenix. They were hoteling it, but one fellow was pulling a trailer with camp chairs, BBQ, cooler, etc. They typically stopped somewhere along the road for an extended lunch. During the day they stopped every 50 miles, or about every hour, to give their butts a break. I agreed that I also stopped about once an hour, but since I ride a cushy recumbent I don't need to give my butt a break. I stop for a bathroom break and to rest my legs. They offered water - but I had already begged a refill at the rest area, instead I requested some of the ice in their cooler. Mmmmm, I was set for the rest of the day - it didn't matter how much more climbing there was. I had ice in my water bottle! Yahoo! It's funny how the smallest thing, such as ice in my water, means so much when bicycling.

Not long after talking to the motorcycle guys I hit the downhill. Yeeha! Wait? A bathroom - got to stop there. Moni and Fred caught up with me. Moni and I both stopped at the bathroom. We caught up with Fred soon. He didn't downhill over 25 mph. Moni is a downhill demon - she was long gone in a hurry. It was in this section that Jacinto caught up with me. We stopped together to chat and have a snack. We agreed that riding Hwy 92 the other direction was much more difficult.I can't tell you how many times on the very nice downhill run into Crawford I was thankful that we weren't riding the other direction. The gradual uphill from Crawford to the real start of the climb lasted forever. To me a 2-3% uphill grade feels as if I'm riding in cement. The road doesn't appear to go up, but I'm sure putting out alot of effort for the speed I'm going.

Home sweet home for the evening in Crawford at the Crawford Country Store and Motel. Lucky us, we were on the third floor.

We knew that there was camping at the reservoir a couple of miles before town. We also knew we were the last riders in. We passed one lake. Hmmm, no camping there. Ah, here's another lake. Yes, camping. Hmmm, there's a tent. But no obvious bike. Is it John? We hadn't been camping so we didn't know what color John's tent is. Then we came upon Fred and Moni at the office. We stopped to see what was up. They decided to keep going into town, I think looking for groceries as they pulled in at a large convenience store just down the road. We went down and back up a big hill. Jacinto had asked me how I liked the climb - but I didn't remember it at all from my previous Hwy 92 trip. He certainly remembered it. Now I will also - after all of that downhill, my legs were complaining about working. Jacinto and I agreed that Moni and Fred probably wouldn't come into town as they'd have to ride up/down the big hill twice. But, nope, here they came. We all milled around outside, having snacks and sitting on the bench. Fred ended up sharing a room with John. Moni went back to the reservoir to camp.

Crawford is built on a slope. Our hotel had two floors in the front, three in the back. The third floor has only two rooms - guess who got to haul their bikes up to the third floor? There were two rooms on the third floor. Yep, Ken had one room. We had the other. Turns out the single bed rooms are on the third floor. If we wanted to haul our bikes only to the second floor, we'd have to pay for two beds. To the third floor we went.

It's a habit of mine to check over my bike as I approach it. Wait a minute. Doesn't that rear tire look a little soft? Darn. Yes, it is squishy. Fred recommended waiting until morning to see if it was entirely flat. I'd rather do any repairs the evening before. I wonder if I picked up something at the rest area where Ken had his flat? It was a bit of a chore getting the rear wheel off while the bike was on the walkway outside of our room. I found a small piece of wire Good at least I know what caused the flat. Jacinto took the opportunity of fixing the tube from his Lake City flat tire.

Finally I took a shower. At least it was after the tube changing. Ken, John, Jacinto and I headed off to dinner. there was one restaurant in town. Luckily for us it was open. John gathered Fred from the library. Free internet and open until 7 PM. Isn't that a deal? I'll be darned if I remember what I had for dinner, other than the salad bar was good. One thing about cycling in small town America. Typically the food is diner style - lots of deep fried things and veggies are usually corn and potatoes. A salad is iceberg lettuce with one cherry tomato on top. But we lucked out here - a nice variety of green food. And homemade rolls.

Today's ride: 69 miles (111 km)
Total: 517 miles (832 km)

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