Tour Divide Day 12

Tour Divide Day 12- Past Steam Boat Springs to Breckenridge, 150ish miles

I awoke in the morning feeling refreshed. Despite the last couple days of complete and utter mental/physical annihilation I was still intent on ripping it up and doing the best a cripple could do. I got out of my outhouse/bed and breakfast just in time to watch the sun rise as I rode the remaining miles around the lake.

It was a beautiful morning. I spent a few hours following some tracks that told a story of squishy mud riding. The tracks were pretty deep and looking at them made me feel better about all the mud hiking I had done in the last few days. Even better yet, the road was dry for me and I was smoking right along.

As I was riding I noticed it looked like there was a matching set of tire tracks but one was going the opposite direction. That meant either two guys were riding together with the same tires and one had the tires on backwards OR the same rider had backtracked for some reason. I started to get worried I was on the wrong road but my GPS quelled my fears and I continued on for some time.

Then I figured out what the back tracking was all about. I came to a river that was obviously severely flooded. I recall seeing a photo that Fixie Dave posted showing this river. He said it was eight feet deep just a few weeks before the tour started. I looked up river and down river for a shallow crossing spot. It all looked swift and deep. The only way to find out was to give it a go.

I waded in, at first up to knee, then up to mid thigh, then above waist then above belly button. There was no end in sight to the rising level and I wasn't anywhere near the other side. However..... I was near enough to the other side to see that there were no other bike tire tracks or muddy shoe imprints. That told me the leaders had gone around.

I knew that going around had been discussed as a race legal possibility if it was too deep and swift. I was being swept away by the river and I'm a big guy. I figured discretion was the better part of valor. I waded back to the shore and went around. As I went around I spotted other racer tracks so I was confident I had made a race legal and morally responsible choice.

After I was back on the course and had ridden a few miles I saw a van driving towards me. It was pretty surreal. The road I was on was pretty rough and I was really surprised to see anything besides a 4x4 out there. The driver stopped next to me and rolled down the window. The sweetest lady started chatting me up about how I was feeling and such.

She was so nice I was starting to wonder if I was hallucinating. Then she asked me my name and said, "Dave will want to know who I met." I said, "Uhhhhh..." She replied, "I mean Fixie Dave, he is my son!" I thought, "No way I am meeting FIXIE DAVE'S mom. After a bit more chatting she told me I could stop by their ranch for water if I wanted and we parted ways. I still can't believe I met the mother of a TD legend!

As the day progressed it got warmer and warmer. My arch nemesis, heat, came out to play by 11 am and I was fighting it pretty hard. This would be the first of many days that the heat really got to me...

I continued on climbing and descending some totally epic passes. I began to realize that I was starting to get into TD mode. I kinda just watched the climbs go by as my body automatically climbed them. Don't get me wrong, I was really working hard and suffering as I raced but... It just seemed like it was easy to distract myself. I think I was discovering the "inner diesel" that Matthew Lee speaks of.

I encountered a few more northbounders and I stopped for a brief chat.

I continued on.

I rode more.

I rode more.

I rode more.

I started to run out of water.

I ran out of food.

I continued to ride.

Half way up the big climb before Silverthorne I bonked. Hardcore. I was seeing stars, having tunnel vision, and my body was shaking with weakness. The worst part of the climb was that it went past a chemical treatment plant and it's treatment areas for about 20 miles. I couldn't filter any of that water, or at least I wasn't willing to risk it.

I finally made it above the treatment area and found a small flowing creek. I filled a bottle and put some treatment tabs in it. Now all I had to do was wait for thirty minutes for it to work.

In my bonking haze I remembered I had spare 'emergency calories' in my Revelate seat bag. I tried to devour a bag of trail mix but my mouth was so dry I couldn't eat more that a few nuts. I decided that waiting twenty five more minutes was not worth it. I put the trail mix in my jersey and pushed myself to ride further.

After another several miles of climbing the water was finally done being treated. I tore into that bottle of water and my emergency trail mix like a scene from that Tom Hanks movie where he has a love affair with Wilson the Volleyball. I was so weak I actually fell to my knees as I ate and drank that beautiful, wonderful, and horrible tasting bottle of water.

After eating and drinking I still felt incredibly weak. I knew that my blood sugar level would rise in 5-10 minutes but I was so weak I just couldn't move. So, I just hung out on the side of the road, in the gravel,  on my hands and knees while I waited until I had the energy to get up.

Eventually, ever so slowly, I was able to get up. I got my bike upright, got a leg over, got one foot clipped in, and tried to push off. Failure. I was so weak I couldn't stay balanced long enough to get the other foot clipped in. I was also so weak I couldn't keep my unclipped foot on the pedal while I tried to ride the bike up hill. I kept trying and trying to actually get on the bike and ride.

After several stutter starts and near falls, I was able to get on the bike. I rounded a corner and saw the top of the climb. I then realized I had bonk about 800 feet from the top of the pass. So close yet so far.....

I descended the paved road towards Silverthorne in a haze. I realize now it was pretty dangerous but these self preservation thoughts aren't what you have when you are bonking. I should have taken a break but I just wanted food so bad.

As I was descending I saw a truck coming up the road towards me. It looked to me like the truck was in MY LANE. After a few blinks and squints I realized he really was in my lane. I had nowhere to go. The shoulder of my lane was only six inches wide and there was a guard rail that had a huge drop off on the other side of it.

A quick math check, me going about 40 MPH and him going 40 MPH..... Yup, that's gonna be a big collision. I started waiving my arms frantically and hollering at the top of my lungs. As the vehicle got closer I realized the driver was looking down.

At the very last second I yelled, "Hey mother f)#$&#($*&, I'm going to kill you if you hit me!!!" The driver must have heard me because they looked up and veered out of the way into their proper lane of travel just in time. They looked mortified. I must have looked pissed. Reminded me of my old cop days. I guess I haven't lost my touch!

I finished bombing the descent and ended up about ten miles from Silverthorne on a highway. I started slowly riding towards town. My legs were still jello from the bonkfest. Those ten miles of pavement might as well have been the distance of the great Basin all over again. I just wanted to lay on the ground and never get back up.

I kept pedaling with all I had. One slow revolution after another. My cadence must have been about 40. I looked down and I was in Granny gear... on pavement.... flat pavement. What a joke.

Just then a silver truck pulled up that had two nice mountain bikes in the back. A guy and a gal were in the truck. They were hooting and hollering and cheering. They knew my name. They said they had been following me on the Spot Leaderboard. I tried to talk back but I felt like I was jibbering. They just kept on with the well wishes. As they cheered I felt my spirits lift and the strength flow to my legs.

They moved on but their spirit stayed with me. I was able to rider stronger into town and despite my weakness I made it. I found a restaurant. I made it to chair. I ordered food. (I know these sentences are really simple but they are the only memories I have. I guess it really reflects that simple state of mind that one experiences when they are bonking like no other.)

After the food hit my stomach I began to feel better. I ate a ton. I drank a ton. After I could stand again I went out to my bike and kept riding through Silverthorne. I stopped at a gas station and refueled for the next day. I tried to call a bed and breakfast in Como to get a room. They were closed on Tuesdays. It was a tuesday.

To be honest I was relieved. It would be a huge push to Como in the dark and it was getting cold. I was tempted to stop in Silverthorne since it was dark but I pushed on about fifteen more miles to Breckenridge.

In Breckenridge I tried to find a hotel room. Most of the hotels were full. It was really cold out and I really didn't want to camp. I decided to check one more hotel and I was relieved to find a room. By time I got to a room I realized I had spent an hour of my evening looking for a room. I was pretty upset to waste that much time but I just didn't have an option. My sleep system was just a bit out of range at this elevation thanks to all of my body fat loss.

I called my wife to drown my sorrows. While looking at my GPS I realized I had been up and riding for seventeen hours of which I had only stopped for one hour total. That includes stopping to pee, eat, resupply, and a few chats with northbounders. It was quite a productive day and I slept like it had been.