Mt. Evans - June 28, 2014

On June 28, Josh from my team decided to do a training ride up Mt. Evans, to help get ready for the Bob Cook Memorial Mt. Evans Hill Climb.  The race is on July 26, and I'll be on vacation at the time, so I won't be able to participate.  But I've always wanted to climb Mt. Evans anyway, so I decided to go.

Mt. Evans is one of Colorado's fourteeners, mountains with summits over 14,000 in altitude.  I used to think there were 54 of them in Colorado, but recently heard there are 58.  I guess it depends on how they are counted.  Anyway, the Mt. Evans road also happens to be the highest paved road in the United States.  The road extends to a small parking lot just below the 14,130' summit.  I'd driven the road a few times before, since it's a popular spot to take visitors to Colorado, but I'd never hiked or biked to the summit.

We started our ride in Idaho Springs, just off I-70 at about 7,500'.  Although it was supposed to be a "team" ride, the only Zillas attending were me and Josh.  We also had a couple other racers along for the ride, Michael (Cat 4) and Tyler (Cat 3).

We headed out from the parking lot at about 8:30am to begin the long slog to the summit.  The route to the summit is about 28 miles, basically all uphill.  There are a couple very short sections of downhill, but not much.  The first 6 or 7 miles has a pretty steady grade of about 2-3%.  Past that, the grade increases to about 4-6% for the rest of the ride.

About 13 miles in, you come to Echo Lake and then the Mt. Evans entrance station, at about elevation 10,750'.  After passing through the entrance station, you climb a little more to the Mt. Goliath Natural Area, where you can walk among 1,000 bristlecone pines.  The hardy trees exist right at treeline, the boundary between the forest below and tundra above.  After passing through this area, you then make a left turn and come face-to-face with the beauty of the Colorado mountains.  Unfortunately, you also come face-to-face with the wind.  From here until the summit, you are above treeline and exposed to sun, wind, rain, hail, or whatever Mother Nature wants to throw at you.  It's amazing the difference that one left turn can make.

At this point, Josh started to feel kind of crappy.  The altitude was getting to him, and he just didn't have the strength to go on.  Michael and Tyler had already ridden ahead, so I chatted with Josh for a few minutes, and he said he was turning around.  We told each other to be safe, and I went on ahead while he turned around and started to head back down.

Josh, just before turning around for the day.  He's giving me a thumb's up, but I don't think he really means it.

The great views you get once you're above treeline.

After riding a few more miles, and enjoying the great views in every direction, you finally get a nice little downhill to Summit Lake.  Then it's time to go up again.  It's really not that much further to the summit, but by this time, the altitude really starts to take its toll, and it's a long slog to the finish.  After a couple miles, you make a left turn and the summit finally comes into view in the distance, and it just seems so far away.  It's really disheartening to see how much further you still have to go.  The observatory at the summit just sits there taunting you for the rest of the ride.  Maybe some people will look at it and it will help them drive to the finish.  But to me, it just makes you think about how much climbing you have left to go.

End of June, and still some really deep snow up here.

The altitude was really starting to get to me, and I started to think I couldn't do it.  I was cold and hungry, and just didn't know if I had the energy to get to the top.  But I was so close.  I stopped to take a couple breaks, eating and drinking, and giving my legs a break.  There are a bunch of tight switchbacks just before the summit, and I had to ride into a strong headwind.  Even when the wind was blasting me as I tried to climb, I talked myself into pushing ahead, knowing that when I turned up ahead, I would have a strong tailwind.  That really kept me going, looking forward to the upcoming tailwind.  A little below the summit, I ran into Michael and Tyler on their way down.  They had gotten to the summit parking lot, stuck around for about a minute, and turned right around.  They were both really cold, and just wanted to get back down the mountain.  I told them I was going to get myself to the summit, and would see them back in town soon.


After a couple more switchbacks, I finally got to the parking lot.  Then, even though I was cold and tired, I decided that there was no way I was riding this far and not actually going to the summit.  From the parking lot, it's about a 5-minute walk up a bunch of rocks to get to the actual summit of Mt. Evans.  I put on my wind/rain jacket, put some rubber cleat covers on my shoes, and started walking.  I hung around the summit for a couple minutes to take some pictures, then headed back down to my bike.

14,116 feet.  7,094' of elevation gain to the parking lot.  Ignore that temperature reading.  That thing has never worked right from the day I got this computer.

View from the summit.

USGS marker on the summit.

Happy to be done climbing for the day.

Usually, after a long, long climb, the downhill makes up for all the pain of ascending.  That's not really true for Mt. Evans.  The descent off Mt. Evans is miserable.  The road is in terrible shape.  There are cracks, bumps and potholes everywhere.  Going up, you're going so slow that you don't even notice.  But on the way down, at high speed and a cold, tired body, you feel every bump.  The edge of the road just kind of falls away down the mountain, and there are some enormous potholes that could just swallow a bike.  Truthfully, I think it's really dangerous, and I was very uncomfortable and nervous for most of the descent.  The wind was terrible, the temperature was about 30-35 degrees at the summit, and I didn't have much in the way of warm clothes.  I could barely feel my fingers, and every bump in the road seemed to rattle my entire body.  I was swearing to myself pretty much the entire descent.

Back down at the entrance station, the weather is warmer, and the road is smooth all the way back to Idaho Springs.  Unfortunately, by that time, I was so miserable, I couldn't even enjoy it.  I just wanted to be done.

I got back to the car, changed my clothes and texted the guys to find out where they were.  They were already sitting down at the Main Street Restaurant.  I headed over to relax with some food and beer.  The best way to end a tough ride.