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HARDSCRABBLE OR BUST!
by Mark Johnson
Hardscrabble on a
triplet?. No way! The echoed sentiment expressed by a select
few at the mere suggestion. The sweet smell
of a challenge would soon be contagious.
Jim Turner, seemingly lifetime
president of the Lawrence Bike Club, peaked my interest resultant of his 1995
recruitment efforts. "Too much was
a happenin," as they say, not to mention no one seemed too excited about
the prospect of sitting on their butt for 10 hours cruising the scenic western
Kansas plains. Not so this year as Sue
expressed excitement at the prospect doing an unfamiliar and potentially scenic
century.
Hardscramble? NO! NO! NO!
"Hardscrabble" stated the gent at the Octoginta whose car
sported familiar green and white Colorado plates. "There is actually a pass called Hardscrabble," he continued.
We finished one of our
many Tuesday evening rides with our tandem buddies (extended family), Jay and
Sandy Sanders, when I remarked about our upcoming September 22nd Colorado
adventure with only 3 days until departure.
I suggested they join us. Jay
"the fly"
(about the only guy on a
single we cannot drop while on our tandem [we got to know him by default that
way starting in 1992]) hesitated a mere 18 hours before calling. If recollection serves me correctly Sue
suggested the triplet. At this point we
had ridden the triplet with Jay only two or three times and at no point on a
century much less in the Rocky Mountains!
I quickly called several
of the Lawrence crowd in search of someone who had ridden it before to try to
figure out the gearing needed and what we would need in the way of BRAKES on
the way down! Everyone was loading up
the Lawrence rental van and the
club trailer when I
first called. I finally reached Jim,
the pres, and learned of his miserable experience the first year with a 50
something low gear and a better experience with a 38 inch low the following
year. He assured me the switch-backs
were on the way up and it was pretty much flat-out going down.
Having never run an
auxiliary drum brake around "these here parts" on the triplet and
having ridden a tandem in the Rockies a few times, I was a little uneasy about
going without one. But being very short
on time and the prospect of carrying another 2 pounds up the mountain (I can be
a gram weenie at times) made the decision easier.
Hardscrabble is
definitely a century. No Kansas grid
work road system exists in this part of Colorado for shorter options. But then you don't need one. You see -- you climb for 20 miles from Florence
(located 35 or so miles west of Pueblo or southwest of the Springs) which is at
5,000 feet to 9,000 feet in 18 miles and it is down hill for 80 MILES! With the exception of a 1.5 mile or so blip
west of Royal Gorge.
The ride is on Sunday
and is held the same weekend as their Pioneer Days celebration. Quite the social event I must say. A few of the cowboy boot stomping locals of
all ages really get into it with full dress costumes, games, country western
bands in the park, cookouts and craft booths of all varieties.
Anticipation of leaving
shortly after 6 pm directly from my Lawrence office was nixed by the needs and
arrival of a new patient in distress before closing. Dedication to my patients
and chiropractic
resulted in an hour delay. It was going
on 7:30 while filling the twin tanks of the old Ford van when Jay (who had been
so patient) was heard to say, "Let's just get on
the turnpike and floor
it!"
We drove to Goodland,
slept several hours, and headed southwest across eastern Colorado. We arrived (gaining an hour always helps) in
the A.M., checked into the motor inn, walked the Pioneer Days event in the park
and registered for the ride at the Hardees.
You are on a triplet? No
way! I have never seen one before! No one has done that before! Sound tiring yet? A well deserved nap was in order before meeting the Lawrence
group, some 23 or so, at the local Italian restaurant. They put us in the basement of this fine
establishment but then these guys had been there before. The wait passed quickly as the abundance of merriment
and socializing (biker stories) diverted the mind from
hunger pangs. The food was good and plentiful.
The start was 6:30am to
8:30am. The general consensus of the Lawrence
crowd was to wait until the sun came (a visual aid) and hopefully the chill in
the air would leave shortly thereafter.
7:00am seemed to be the target time of most. Being fashionably late, it was 7:30 by the time we got our act
together (we ate cardboard pancakes at Hardees) and headed out. The chill lasted only a mile (until we
reached the prison) as the steady slight
grade (average of 14
mph) warmed us up. About 8 miles into
the climb with a few teaser flat areas (and some that looked flat) and an
occasional down slope we were congratulating each other on our 14+
average. We had previously heard it was
2 hours to the top depending upon your physical condition. Then the grade increased to 8%, you know the
ones with the signs showing a silhouette of a truck standing on its nose. A welcome sag was strategically placed at
the maximum wheeze point. Having
stopped we realized many of the 700 or so riders had started while we were
eating that stuff at Hardees evidenced by the food and potty lines.
Standing on the road
holding the bike, I could not believe the effort required to keep it from
rolling down the mountain. "Check
this out" I said to Jay, "Try to hold this thing!" He
used the brakes and said
"no problem."
One rider was heard
hollering and asking if "Bill McCready (owner of Santana Cycles) was
paying us to ride the event on one of his triplets. We also heard the first of what was to be repeated multiple times
throughout the day, "We heard about you guys!" "I bet it will be
a blast going down!" We did not
hear much of anything once on the other side for obvious reasons.
The steepest part of our
climb was in a 1:1 ratio, i.e., 32t rear and 32t front. About 1.5 miles of the climb would have been
better with a 28t front sprocket as a cadence of 70 was a struggle to maintain. We paced ourselves by loosely following our
strategy of running a heart rate of 160 or so.
There were times we started to blow up by hitting 170 and 180 just to
keep the gear turning. 2 hours and 20
minutes later we were rewarded with an awesome view of the snow covered
mountain range, a Kodak moment we could not pass up.
It was time to boogie,
"Let the fun begin", I exclaimed as we mounted up. Scrolling through the computer I discovered
our earlier 14.6 mph average had dropped to a dismal 10.0 which does not quite
ad up for you math wizards but that is what it said.
Awesome hardly does
justice to the smooth sailing decent experienced while turning our 60t x 12t
(had to remove the 11t for the climb) at 45 mph mile after mile. We arrived at the next sag, discovered more
lines, said to heck with it and headed into town for a Coke. As we headed north to U.S. 50, the terrain flattened
out to familiar light rolling cruising terrain. And then the grade steepened as we spun out our high gear at 46
mph. A 35 mph curve sign loomed at an
alarming rate causing me to glance at the computer which was all of 2"
from my face while in a full tuck. I
thought, wow a figure I have never seen before while clipped to pedals! I momentarily feathered the brake while sitting
up catching the wind which dropped our speed immediately from 58.5 into the
40's., slower than needed for the under rated curve.
The effort put forth
(evidenced by a heart rate monitor check) was starting to wear on the now less
than dynamic trio. Wrapped up with the
sensation of speed we found ourselves working harder than ever with heart rates
up in the 180's and occasional 190's. Sue
was averaging around 160 for the whole ride!
Her best effort ever! The only time any real braking was needed
was for the stop sign at U.S. 50 highway which was no big deal. A sag was soon to come. It was a relief to get off as the speed and
increased concentration also takes its toll.
We consistently spent considerable time at the sags as the friendly
riders and atmosphere of the event led to more socializing.
Back on the road
again! Sue had fun (when she had enough
thin Colorado air to do it) blowing her new train whistle as we passed other
tandems. We passed single bikes so fast
and so often it seemed futile to blow and blow!
The cruise down highway
50 following the Colorado river was enjoyable.
But all good things must end which is exactly what happened west of
Royal Gorge as we SLOWLY churned our way up a 1.5 or so mile grade. Another sag at the top and no lines! Most
of the riders were
behind us at this point evidenced by a computer average closing in on 18 mph up
from 10 mph. Leaving the sag we headed
down the other side. What goes up must
go down. We spun out at 46 mph, tucked
down, and proceeded to experience cross winds, nothing severe but at 58 mph it
felt a little spooky to more than one of us.
Sitting up and letting the wind catch us with the hands on the hoods
provided the additional stability we were looking for.
We joked that the post
ride meal would likely be a hot dog as we cruised the last few miles into
Florence at 28-30 mph. We showered,
checked out of our room 2 hours later than first anticipated and headed over
for our hot dog or whatever meal.
The “whatever” turned
out to be a barbecue beef sandwich, a bowl of cauliflower, broccoli and or
carrots, a baked potato with choice of trimmings, potato chips (for the salt
lover in you), ice cream and punch. Not
bad for $25 bucks including a T-shirt!
Ranks right up there with the Hotter'n Hell for value.
We left town at 5:00pm
our time, each getting about 3 hours sleep in the bed we hauled, and arrived in
the metro about 3:15 am. Sue and I
crashed at 4:30am after dropping Jay off in Bonner getting a total of 6.5 or 7
hours of sleep. (Sue was a little shy of that!)
We highly recommend this
rewarding ride and plan on doing it again.
The increasing participation within the Lawrence group speaks for
itself. Jim Turner (pres for life?)
would love to get 30 or so together, can the van idea, and move up to a charter
bus!
If you do it our way,
you may want to take Monday off from work.
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