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On the flight home we came up with the top 10 reasons to go back and do this trip again (or do it for the first time, if you're considering it) ... you'll notice we ended up with way more than 10, but nobody wanted to throw any out so we just left them all: 

10. It's Colorado
9.  It's Lizard Head  (http://lizardheadcyclingguides.com)
8.  The scenery is gorgeous (meaning: the scenery)
7. The scenery is gorgeous (meaning: the men)
6. The scenery is gorgeous (meaning: the women)
5. Everyone does something: cycling, mountain biking, skiing, snowboarding, hiking, swimming, etc. Everyone.
4. Clear cool high mountain lakes
3. Riding the same stages as the pros and exponentially increasing your cycling skills
2. No stop signs
1. There's very little animosity towards cyclists (probably because everyone is one or at least knows one)
1. The high altitude and the plethora of pro cyclists and other fit people drastically increases testosterone (it's good stuff)
1. All the fit people motivate you to be more fit 
1. Hobnobbing with pro cyclists (or at least getting to say 'Giorno!' to them)
1. The Race Within The Race 
1. Exclusive nutrition and cycling tips from Sada
1. Lizard sightings
1. 20+ mile long descents ... at 40+ mph
1. Making new friends and getting closer to the ones you already have
1. Eat eat eat and still lose weight
1. The possibility of wildlife around every bend
1. Every bend. Every climb. Every descent.
1. The phenomenon of Sada ordering dinner

We've been back a few days now. It's been tough already. Several of us felt the depression starting to set in before we even got out of the Denver airport on Sunday: undoubtedly the sign of a great vacation (though knowing that doesn't really make you feel much better). We're all already thinking about the trip next year ... and a few of us are wondering if we can really wait an entire year to go back.

At the top of one of the mountain (I forget which one now, there were so many) John said two things to me that stuck. First, he said he was actually surprised I didn't back out. As petrified and intimidated as I was of this trip, it never even occurred to me that backing out was an option (my 545am BC workout buddies know this too well - if I say I'll be there, I'll be there - I may be half asleep and dressed a little funny, but I'll be there). Second, he looked at me and said 'Yeah. I can see it'. 'See what?' I asked. 'You. Out here. Riding around Colorado and the mountains on your own'. At first I thought that was a slam as in he was saying out loud that I really am un-mate-able (which could very well be true, though not something I particularly wanted to hear in the middle of my mountain-top zen moment) ... but then with a weird sense of calm I realized, he was right (don't tell him I said so, he gets a big head). I could see it too. And I can't think of too many things that sound better.

A few close friends (the ones who know there's something deeper to all this than just the biking and the scenery) have asked me if this trip has changed me. I say no, not really - although I'm 6 lbs lighter and no longer deathly afraid of screaming descents. Except for one small fact .... I think Ohio just became 'the place I grew up'. My 'home' is someplace else.

Until next time, happy and safe riding!

Heaven and the Incredible Finish

On our final day of riding we leave Steamboat stupid-early to get to our starting location a short ride away. In the deciding stage of The Race Within The Race, Sada is wearing the yellow GC leader jersey, while Humphries is wearing the red King of the Mountains jersey. This stage is from outside Rocky Mountain National Park, to the top of the mountains at 12,300 feet, across the ridge, and into Boulder.

High mountain lake in the early morning, just outside Rocky Mountain National Park

Sada, (not so) gently stretching Todd's tight legs.

The Lizard Head Masterminds making sure the logistics are in order for the day.

Today's route would turn out to have the most breathtaking views of the entire trip, including dropoffs to certain death (or at least serious pain) on either side of the ridge.

One of the many breathtaking views from the ridge.

Near the top. And as close to heaven as I'm likely to ever get.

If you look closely you'll see he's actually smiling

Me. In my happy place.

Eric had lunch setup in the parking lot of the Alpine Lodge at the top of the climb.

The view from our last lunch spot.

After a quick lunch stop we futzed around at the top, none of us really wanting to leave the final mountain top of the trip. We saw a herd of elk manned by a monstrous male with a huge rack. Humphries took time out to explain what 'rutting' season is and why we're glad it isn't right now. Sada gave me a helpful push, even though he knows it jacks up his heart rate. We chatted with various folks along the way and several folks in cars took our pictures, undoubtedly thinking it was nuts to be up there on bikes.

Big Elk daddy and part of his herd.

Me talking to an Ohioan as if I'm not one. He's asking me what it REALLY takes to do such a ride. I'm telling him: lizardheadcyclingguides.com.

It turns out we don't really have a ton of pictures from the top. I think we were all (at least I was) too mesmerized by it that we forgot about cameras and just enjoyed the moments we had up there. We jacked around and leapfrogged each other several times, let our hearts race while making sure to stay far enough from the edge, and simply loved being alive.

And then the race was back on.

Sada went over the mountaintop a couple miles ahead of Todd and Humphries, who worked together descending at above 40mph, catching Sada who, upon being passed, exclaimed 'I'M A CYCLIST! I'M A CYCLIST! YOU CAN'T GET AWAY FROM ME!'. Then an uphill appeared and Humphries and Sada left Todd in the dust.

All of us flew down the incredible descent well above the 35mph speed limit. We actually had to slow down several times for the pokey vehicle traffic, and a few startling wind gusts. I can't print what came out of my mouth after the first several miles, and if I tried to explain it in words it wouldn't even come close to the beauty or magnitude of the experience .... let me just say it was 180 degrees from that first terrifying descent only a week ago. And if you ever Ever EVER get a chance in your life to go do something like this - do not miss it!

(John Martin took a video of the descent - if it ever uploads we'll stick it here on the blog somewhere. It'll only be an echo of what it was really like, but it's better than nothing.)


Found the video!  This a 9 minute clip - kind of long - but even a quick look gives you an idea of what a fantastic descent awaits those who make the climb to the top.

9 minute video of descent from Rocky Mountain National Park

Steve, John and I got caught in oncoming rain about 3 miles from the bottom. Terry reached the bottom earlier and opted to hide out in a Starbucks until the van caught up. When the rain became so bad that I couldn't see the road in front of me anymore, I stopped, took my glasses off, looked up, and lo and behold right in front of me is Erik and the Lizard Head van. I pile in along with Steve and John, we swing by Starbucks to get Terry, and head off to find the others.

We catch Todd on the way up the next big climb. His hind-end now fully recovered, he doesn't want to stop riding but Steve convinces him the best view of the last miles of The Race Within The Race is from within the van, and he concedes. We load up and speed off to witness what would be the most spectacular finishing stage all week.

The rain turns torrential and we're all debating if either Sada or Humphries is going to cry uncle - nobody would even judge that decision in this weather (you notice none of us were still out in it). They each stop for quick aid, a change of glasses, some extra clothes, but neither one of them is even considering quitting.

Looking out the van windshield. The splotch of yellow is Humphries.

Quick stop for aid and something dry.

Now there's an 8 mile downhill stretch with runoff and road suds sheeting down the pavement. Sada's carbon wheels provide him absolutely no braking. We watch from the van behind him as he unclips his right foot preparing to use it to slow down if he needs to. Humphries, who is a fearless descender due to obvious brain damage incurred as a downhill ski racer and mountain biker, shows no mercy and disappears, never even considering touching the brakes. When Sada was asked about the descent later all he said was, "I had absolutely no brakes and I wanted to see my kids again". Humphries noted that he had seen worse, mountain biking in the pouring rain with flowing mud and invisible rocks and roots, so relatively speaking the smooth pavement covered with water wasn't nearly as treacherous as it could've been. Humphries' experience and steady confidence over the bike earns him a full 6 minute lead.

When both riders are safely down the mountain, the race vehicle speeds ahead. In transit we come up with the clever idea to stop and get out the flags and Lizard suit to cheer our riders on in the same way they cheered on the Pro racers. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and the sun was coming out. Our shenanigans slowed oncoming traffic and baffled locals, who wondered who was coming through, which made it even more impressive.

Terry, Todd and the Lizard (Steve) at the final stop before the finish.

Humphries flies by gritting his teeth, tosses his rain gear at the crew and maintains his huge 6 minute lead. Sada arrives with a lone local rider he picked up several miles before, who pulled 1 minute to every 5 of Sada's minutes - just enough to allow his heart rate to stay in check. With determination etched on his face and foam coming out of his mouth, he blasted by our aid and cheering station screaming 'HOW FAR?! HOW FAR?!' - we'd all decided it would be best to flat out lie and screamed back in unison '4 MINUTES! 4 MINUTES!' as Sada pressed on even harder than before.

And More Determination from 6 minutes back.

Determination of the leader.

We hop back in the van with 11 miles of flat-to-rolling terrain to go: it's Sada's speciality but 6 minutes seems almost insurmountable with so little of the course left. In an ironic turn of events, Humphries, who can't see out his soaked glasses, misses a turn and ends up adding a few miles to his route - the finish line remains, as agreed, the hotel front door in Boulder. Sada, with his GPS set, remained on course.

The race vehicle arrived at the hotel mere minutes before the winner, and we all poured out just in time to hear him screaming "WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS HE?!". Families snatched up their small children, and outdoor diners 2 blocks over stopped mid-bite and looked up at the commotion. After 7 days The Race Within The Race was over: Humphries was nowhere to be seen. Sada won the yellow jersey and went nuts exclaiming "NEVER GIVE UP! NEVER NEVER GIVE UP!". Several of us in the chase crew had to wipe the tears from our eyes. It was THE most exciting finish of the week.

A few minutes later, Humphries rolls up with something between a smirk and a grimace, to a still exuberant Sada who immediately greets him with a firm handshake and a tough guy-hug for a worthy and respected competitor. By all rights, Sada won the title, but the jury is still out as to whether that missed turn was truly an accident ... only one person will ever know that truth.

After coming down off the stellar high of the finish, we all get cleaned up and head out for dinner, desert (first time this trip, per Sada's rule), and (for some of us) drinks. Tonight's dinner conversations were wild and varied and for the team's ears only - they won't be shared unless you can get one of us to tell you privately (good luck with that). After dinner a few of us ventured out to see what Boulder nightlife had to offer - it's a neat little town, full of mini-skirts (for the boys' enjoyment), and, as with the rest of the state of Colorado, fit, active and fun guys everywhere you look (for the girls'). We stayed out way too late but considering for the first time in over a week we weren't getting on a bike at the crack of dawn it seemed ok (and was a complete and total blast). We dropped out at varying times throughout the nite, but eventually, everyone found their way home (some in a more round'a'bout way than others) totally exhausted from an unforgettable week.

Sunday we drove to Denver, said our goodbyes to the Lizard Head Racing Team (no, I didn't cry, but I was very sad), and met up with John's friends, Chas Runco and his beautiful and sweet girlfriend, Tarah. They graciously let us stash our luggage at their place and took us downtown to watch the Pro's Finish (how it could be more exciting than yesterday's finish is beyond me). The course did 6 loops downtown and we had a great spot to watch, cheer and simply absorb the last bits of the Inaugural Pro Cycling Challenge and our tour of Colorado.

Chas and Tarha. Makes you believe in love again, doesn't it?

Levi, wrapping it up in downtown Denver

How on earth do you sum up such an incredible experience?

1 woman. 7 guys. 7 days. 17 Pro Cycling teams. 1 breathtaking state. 1 ubiquitous green Lizard. 3 exceptional tour guides. 1 omnipresent sag vehicle ... 1 hell of a ride!