Days 2 and 3
Day 2 Saturday
We woke on Saturday to blowing snow. Soon after sunrise the clouds parted and the light snow began melting. Eyewitness weather told me that the south end of Taylor Park received much less snow than the north end. I reversed my plans for a big loop ride and led a group of seven riders toward Fossil Ridge Trail. Another group was also headed in this direction, while Rick Ramsey was leading a group in the other direction along the Gunnison Spur Trail.
We pulled out of the Trading Post at 10am. It was a bone-chilling ride over Cumberland Pass (12.3k feet). The FRS radios were great for getting our group back together while doing a little exploring. Greg had to stop on the way up to the pass to wire a dangling muffler back into place. I supplied him with the proper M6 screw, washers and nut when he arrived on the pass. Yes, I really carry all this stuff with me.
Folks started warming up as we wound through the maze of roads to the top of the Fairview Trail. I shot a couple of MikeW pictures on the top of Fairview Trail. Here's a picture from my '97 ride. I remembered this picture was pretty tame, so I took some photos of the upper section, before you drop into the trees. By the time we descended Fairview to Gold Creek, everyone was sweating and jackets were being shed.
The east end of Fossil Ridge is a great single track. You climb hundreds of feet on over a dozen switchbacks. We had a brief stop at Boulder Lake for lunch. Once on top the trail follows timberline for about 10 miles. The rocks appeared to be some type of gray slate or shale, rather than the usual granite. The drop down the west end of Fossil Ridge was pretty knarly. By the time we reached a large boulder pile my legs were starting to cramp and I did my first and last bike drop of the trip. We rested here for quite a while, admiring the turning aspens and old-growth fir trees around us.
The Beaver Creek Trail had recently been rerouted. Despite being an ATV trail, it was a fun couple of miles through the woods. The 8-mile long 1-Mile Road was pea gravel and sand on top of hardpack with 6' tall water bars. A lot of fun if you like jumping. The IRC VE39 front tire did great on this road. In fact, it did great on all of the trails we rode. I think I've ended my search for a front tire. Victor was complaining of his front end washing out.
By the time we got to the pavement, it was getting late and we were all pretty beat. After sampling the "million dollar outhouse" at 1-mile rest area, we buzzed the paved road back to camp. I noticed Jeff on the WR in front of me switching to reserve a few miles from camp. A mileage check with Todd at the cabin showed that my smelly 2-stroke was getting better mileage than the WR400s (just over 30mpg). With a cold wind blowing up off the lake, I did my bike servicing for the evening and decided against a campfire. Due to the weather, it looked like I'd be hauling all my firewood back home with me.
Day 3 Sunday
I decided I would be heading home on Sunday, so Todd and I trailered halfway to Cottonwood Pass and rode south on the Timberline Trail. This is a trail with a little bit of everything. Smooth sections, rocky sections, tundra, water crossings, and incredible aspen groves. The aspens were just starting to turn. Sections of the trail were littered with aromatic golden leaves. This was our best weather yet. Finally, a ride with a single jersey and no jacket. We traveled light and fast. Here's an old picture of Timberline.
We detoured up to the old mine site that I had visited on Day 0. We spent some more time with the old equipment. Incredibly, the valve covers and push-rod covers could still be removed from the old Buick motors. After adjusting the valves, we put everything back just as we found it.
On the final leg down to Mirror Lake I spooked a large red hawk from the tundra beside the trail. From Todd's viewpoint behind me, he said it looked as if the hawk were attacking me. On the return trip, we spooked the hawk from the exact same spot. This time he landed in the top of a tree next to the trail and watched us ride by. There was an incredible view from this section. It felt like the top of the world.
We turned around at the far end of the trail and made good time back to the cars. A few miles from the trailhead we ran into Rick and his group. They were having some trouble with a rider or two getting separated from the group. After passing Jim Westmoreland, I realized he was the guy that lost a couple of toes in Idaho last year. As far as I know, the only injuries on this trip were some sore muscles and a couple of bruises. The weather was a little cool, but everyone got in about as much riding as they could tolerate. I only wish I could qualify for a business card like Rick's. It reads "Professional Trail Rider."
-Jeffrey Deeney-