The Days that Never Were

We were not here.

At least not officially. The Lizard Head Pro Tour started at 9am on Sunday and yet here we were, 9am on Friday, mulling around Grand Junction with a growing hum of energy vibrating around us. We still had 2 full days before the tour even started. This is what happens when the uncontrollable excitement of several people combines - before you know it you're miles from home, rearing to go. We planned to arrive early to enjoy a 'bonus ride': we were simply too close to NOT add-in one of the incredible routes from the infamous Lizard Head Red Rocks Tour, highlighted on the front page of the New York Times Travel Section not too long ago in an article titled: Four Corners, Two Wheels. A few of the other Pro Tour guests (our soon-to-be-friends from Louisiana) had the same thoughts ....

The Midwest gang had a 6am flight .... and were all up by 330am (as if anyone could sleep anyway), catching rides, parking in the long term lots, some of us slugging our way into the terminal on 3 hours of sleep. Long lines at the airport check-in and the general I-wonder-what-I-forgot nervousness escorted us to our gate and onto our flight. A quick layover in Denver on our way to Grand Junction was highlighted by someone-who-shall-remain-nameless-but-who-is-very-small leaving her phone charging in the terminal after we boarded. While TSA mandates that passengers are NOT allowed to exit a plane after boarding to say, retrieve a forgotten item ...  it turns out that pilots are exempt from that rule (another reason to be extra friendly to your airline pilots).

For those of us who did the tour last year, flying into Grand Junction, on the West side of the Rockies, was a bit of a shock. The dry, brown and rocky 'high desert' was not an environment we ever saw last year. Being the kind of people that can't sit still for long, after hitting the local bike shop (actually called The Bike Shop, check 'em out, there's a particularly stunning Red Rocks poster on the wall leading into the maintenance section of the shop - if you're there see if you can spot it) and finding some lunch, a few of us went out for a blazing hot run. We couldn't find a speck of shade, and struggled to sip water frequently enough to keep our mouths from drying out between breaths, but did spy our first prairie dogs and small lizards.

On our way back into the hotel's breathable air we met part of the Louisiana contingent at the elevator: Louise, Donald and David. We knew who they were as soon as they spoke - it's hard to misplace those incredible southern draaaawls. Terry, our LA friend from last year, wouldn't arrive for a few days but it didn't take too long to establish that these had to be some of his friends. As luck would have it, as we were introducing ourselves Team Sada popped out of the elevator as well and the Lizard Heard Pro Tour party was unofficially started. We learned quickly that there had been a manhunt for a guy named 'Todd Larson' from Louisiana, who was unknown in their local cycling-circuits, and feared to be some sort of ringer .... we laughed as we all realized it was a misprint in the rider list ... Todd is actually one of our original Midwestern cohorts. 

Some folks in the newly-combined LA-Midwest contingent rode over to The Colorado National Monument (for a BONUS-bonus-ride), while others just rode around town (for some fun with Grand Junction traffic, which turned out to be as lovely as it sounds) ... and still others (who I'm not ashamed to admit included me) simply opted for a nap before heading into downtown for dinner. It would be one of the last naps any of us would see for the next 10 days.

The Lizard Head van, with our shipped bikes already assembled and secured on top, arrived early Saturday morning - they had graciously agreed to bring us our bikes a day early so we could do our unsupported-bonus-ride. After a few snags with the small number of folks who opted to rent bikes, and locating one bike that was shipped to the wrong location (all remedied faster than any of us thought possible) we took the complimentary Lizard Head bump to Whitewater (just outside Grand Junction and it's not-so-pretty-and-not-so-enjoyable traffic) where we'd start our bonus-ride: a 40some mile ride from Whitewater to Gateway, in 100+ degree temps, and blazing dry sun. After sending us on our way, the Lizard Head van would 'officially' arrive with all the other guests, and toting all our luggage, later that night. Our destination was the Gateway Canyons Resort (this place is owned by John Hendricks, founder of the Discovery Channel, if that gives you any idea about how utterly spectacular it might be), where we'd relax and wait for our luggage - it was going to be a rough situation but we all agreed to try to make the best of it.

The gang getting ready to head out on the bonus ride (unsupported, but still with a little support from the Lizard Head crew). Photo credit: Ann Kurtenbach

The Gateway Canyons Resort: After the bonus-ride we would be 'stranded' here for a few hours waiting for our luggage to catch up to us. Oh the horror.    Photo Credit: Gateway Canyons Resort

The bonus-ride was one of the hottest, driest, and most fascinating rides I've ever done. It truly felt like we'd been dropped on another planet. I don't know about the rest of the crew, but 4 years of Geology electives in college had my head and neck rattling around like a bobble-head doll. I wished my memory was better and I could recall the hows and the whys and types of rock in the massive formations I was riding by. The heat accosted a few folks, so much so that even some of the screaming descents were taken in slow motion. We hung in small groups making sure everyone was ok (remember this was an unsupported bonus ride - the omnipresent oasis of the Lizard Head support van wouldn't appear for another day).

Whitewater to Gateway. Photo Credit: Ann Kurtenbach

We came from somewhere waaaay back there. Photo Credit: John F Martin, Jr.

One road. 40+ miles. Nary a car. Photo Credit: John F Martin, Jr

Towards the end of our bonus-ride was a loooong descent that ended, literally, at the Gateway Canyons resort. After 30'ish miles of riding in a standard household oven, we flew through an industrial blast-furnace created by the canyon walls ... in spite of taking gasping breaths of the hottest air I've ever felt it was still a ridiculously fun descent. As I neared the start of the descent I saw a lone rider coming back UP towards me. Figuring it was one of ours (no one else was out there) I realized it was Donald, our new long-haired friend from LA. He had already made it to the resort once (half-chased by a preliminary RWTR challenge from Team Sada) and was riding back to do the blast-furnace-descent one more time. When I looked at him quizzically he simply shrugged and said in his thick LA-accent: 'I got there and I just couldn't get off my bike'. All I could do was smile ... and chase him all the way back down to the resort.

We checked in to one of the most magnificent rooms any of us had every seen - giant beds, amazing stone showers, spectacular view, gorgeous fireplace in the corner (it almost made you wish it was the middle of winter and that you and the stunningly gorgeous love-of-your-life were hopelessly snowed in for days, though I don't actually know if it even snows in this other-worldly place?) - and, without luggage, headed to the pool to cool off and find food. We'd hang out here for a few hours, swimming, eating, talking, napping - truly 'roughing' it. There was a little smack talk between future RWTR competitors - the budding love-hate relationship between a particular 5ft tall Louisiana fireball and Sada would take its roots here and flourish throughout the trip. Some fun conversations occurred regarding our first encounters with cattle guards (grates that span the road, in theory, keeping the cows on one side or the other) and the resulting 'activation' that they may or may not invoke in various genders as they ride their bikes over top .... and even some deep and real discussions about love and marriage ... kids (or not) ... and the things that really matter in life. After a few hours, in spite of easy access to great food, drinks, and company, I think we were ALL ready to get out of our wet riding clothes - a few people opted to change into bathrobes (though I suspect had the establishment known what wasn't under those robes they may have frowned upon that public practice) ... but we all agreed having the bonus-day was well worth a little uncomfortable sogginess in what had to be one of the most amazing environments on the planet.

Gateway Canyon's Resort: Between the fire and the view you could probably survive trapped here for quite a while .... Photo Credit: Ann Kurtenbach

Roughing it at the Gateway Resort Pool. Photo Credit: Ann Kurtenbach

Midwest meets South: who knew the fun that would ensue? Photo Credit: Ann Kurtenbach

Some folks couldn't wait for their luggage to arrive. At least it was securely tied. Photo Credit: Ann Kurtenbach

The Lizard Head van, with our luggage and the remaining guests from Atlanta, San Francisco, and a few other places, arrived around 7pm. We scooped up our belongings, got into dry clothes, and fueled up one more time with a meal in one of the resort's restaurants. By then it was pitch black outside without a single cloud in the night sky. Only once before, in the middle of a Californian desert, have I ever seen the milkiness of our galaxy as clearly. A few of us stood simply staring upwards for as long as our necks could handle it, and I couldn't keep myself from finding a soft spot in the grass to just lie down for a while, staring up at everything ... and nothing.

We all ended our nights early. Afterall ... we had a big bike tour starting the next morning.