All the Way to the Water - Day 7

Day 7: Rocky Mountain High

Copper Mountain resort is a fabulous place located about 70 miles west of Denver. Sitting at an elevation of about 9700 feet the air was noticeably thinner, and even the slightest physical exertion required a short rest after. The act of walking around at 10K feet can be a challenge for us Midwesterners who spend most of our lives below 1000 feet above sea level.  Our bikes were parked inside on the lowest level of the structure and it was nice to not have to go through the process of covering or uncovering the bike each time we mounted up. Just attach the gps, and away we go…simple.  The room was big and the beds comfy but a serious lack of background noise made it difficult to sleep. It was actually too quiet and that made it uncomfortable. I prefer a bit of “white noise” while I sleep, usually a fan blowing will suffice but the room had a heating system that did not incorporate the use of a fan (electric) to blow the air around. That first night, sleeping at elevation with a shortness of breath and a lack of noise in general made for a long night and I was eager to get moving the next morning. As we organized ourselves for the day, we immediately noticed the temperatures at altitude were considerably lower in the morning than we had been riding through the past few days. The ride started in 35-degree weather and we elected to plug in our electrics right away. It had been below freezing overnight, and the temperatures in the canyons would not rise until the sun crested the tops, which is some places is well into the morning.

We had planned on taking in certain places while in Colorado, and the rally organizers had spent some time creating “routes” and planned rides for us to follow and Bill had these downloaded onto his gps. This forethought on his part made him the defacto ride leader each day and I had the luxury of just following him. I really enjoy being the 2^nd or 3^rd bike in a small group. Leading a ride is more responsibility due to the idea that you have to watch for turns, obstacles to call out, plan shortcuts and detours, deal with stops for comfort breaks, hunger pains and fuel. The followers simply get to ride along in the pack and see the sights with little pressure to be involved in decision-making.  Bill is comfortable in leading and I am comfortable in following so we make good travel partners. Last night we had discussed our plans for the 3 days we had available to see everything. We knew we wanted to make the days easy, and 300 miles in the mountains is a full day considering we would rarely be on a straight road.

We had chosen to travel through Independence Pass today. I feel this is one of the most beautiful places anywhere and this would be my 2^nd time on this road as we had visited the year before. I knew what to expect from the day but this was my first time here in fall and Colorado did not disappoint us. Each mountainside covered in bursts of yellow, spots of purple, and splashes of green. The canvas of rock underlying this rainbow gave an undertone of grey and red; and the vibrant blue of the sky served to frame the view.

Independence Pass is a canyon through the rugged mountains. It climbs to an elevation of 12,095 feet above sea level as it navigates up and over the continental divide. The road begins innocently as a very nice highway leading past a beautifully serene lake. The splashes of color ending abruptly on the sides of the mountains clearly show the timberline; the elevation that is too high and harsh for trees and brush to grow. The path through the pass is easily recognized as the v-shaped cut just right of center at the far end of the lake.

As one approaches the summit, the road becomes more difficult with switchbacks and climbs toward the summit. The traffic is proceeding slowly as we creep along state highway 82. The road narrows and the 6.5% gradient and tight corners require complete attention by any vehicle driver.

The pass cuts a path through the White River National Forest and the ride into the park is really a nice experience. The temperatures had been rising and the chill of the early morning was off the earth; and the pine tree forest was steadfast in its resolve to cling to the side of the Rockies. The trip to the top was interrupted by large meadows where the climb flattened and the plants had taken hold. Various brush and small stands of pine dotted the landscape; and just as suddenly as it had begun, the meadow ended with a turn and a hill toward the top as if we had passed through a room only to find another staircase.  Soon the side of the valley began to tilt upward on each side forming the deep U shaped canyon pass through the rock. The gentle hills had started to give way to more vertical impasses as we continued the climb upward, weaving back and forth, as the rock surrendered a passageway.  The flat spots were now much smaller in the tight confines of the valley floor and the trees gave way to small brush and grasses; and even these were sprinkled with color.

We entered an area that appeared to be a box canyon, the road seemed to dead-end into the rock face at the far end..? But if you were observant you could make out the road winding it’s way up and around the face of the precipice eventually popping over the top edge after several narrow, tight switchbacks. Near the top were small, gravel pullouts that an adventuring tourist could stop and snap a few quick pictures without being in the flow of traffic and a potential accident.  The view from the pullouts was magnificent, and the winding road we had traveled to get here was in clear view all along the valley floor as it slithered its way toward the steep climb to the top. At the top of the pass there is a sign indicating the altitude, and place we are. This sign is the center of almost every visitors photograph and we waited our turn to pull up.

The sign indicates that we are standing at the continental divide, a place noted as being the hydrological divide between watersheds. This hydrological divide of the Americas separates the watersheds that drain into the Pacific Ocean from those river systems that drain into the Atlantic Ocean.  Located at an elevation of over 12,000 feet it was a stark area of low-lying brush, and wind scoured exposed rock. Well above the timberline and located in a heavy snow area one could tell this was a very difficult place in the winter. 

There is a walkway leading to an observation area and the pathway shows the bleak nature of the area. Covered in deep snows all winter the pass is closed for part of the year and only opens once the snow removal equipment can clear the way for vehicular traffic in spring.

The road then winds down the hill on the far side of the pass just as steeply as when we went up the first side. The switchbacks continue as the road is carved out of the side of the mountain rock forming a ledge to drive on. Not all areas are guard railed and a careless driver would have a difficult time should they miss a curve. As we snake our way down the mountain pass we approach the timberline… and for some odd reason it is a reassuring feeling finding trees and other plants fighting for existence in this difficult environment. The trip away from Independence Pass was less difficult and more scenic as Colorado showed its beauty on this side of the pass. Our trip back to the lodge was not very long but as it was going through many meadows and valleys, we would not be going quickly. Rather the winding roads dictated a more leisurely pace.

It was during this ride back that we had a first hand view of the color show Mother Nature was splashing on the mountainsides.  Each new vista provided a glimpse into the grandeur that is nature at its best.    

The colors swirled in places and climbed the hills in others. The sky changed color and hue and illustrated the complexities of the mountains and the rapidly changing weather conditions one finds in the highest peaks.  Even a minor peak at Notch Mountain (elevation 13,327 feet) served to remind us that it was fall in the Rockies. As we weaved and swerved along the winding roads making our way back to the lodge for an early dinner and a hopefully good nights sleep we made note of the colors and smells and sights that could only be experienced, and not captured in a photograph, nor properly described in any story. The overwhelming feeling of having to be there in order to completely appreciate the scope of the vast colored mountains was intense. The mountains have a presence that is perceptible, a feeling that invades you and begs you to explore more, to see what is over the next peak and beyond the next valley.

 

At a brief resting stop, on a pull out overlooking an abandoned mining camp, we shared a moment of silence as out bikes cooled and we sipped water. The solitude of the mountains is both magnificent and terrifying as you try to absorb the enormity of it all.