Mood:  a-ok

All was going according to plan.  I slept well, arose at 4:45 AM, did devotions, packed and was out the door by 5:30 AM.  There are several cafes in Grand Lake that open at 6 AM, but I had forgotten that this was Sunday.

Every place that I stopped at did not open until 7 AM.  They had "Open" signs up, but I guess they were permanent signs, left up all night.  I asked a local who replied that I might try the "Black Bear Cafe".  I did and it was closed.  Turning around, I decided to walk around the lake a bit, and wait until 7 AM.  Hearing a noise behind me, I turned, and the door the the Black Bear Cafe was propped open.  I asked if they were open.  He replied "We are now."  It had not yet been 6 AM when I tried the door.  So I had the perfect breakfast for this assault of Trail Ridge.

At 6:45 AM I entered the National Park.  At 7 AM, I pulled up to the gates.  Even though the park is open 24 hours a day, the gates aren't staffed until 7 AM.  Normal fee is $20.  Bicyclers, I learned, can enter for free. 

I asked the ranger what was the distance to the Visitor's Center, which was near the top.  He said 20 miles.  This is critical information since I like to know how many miles to the top (or at least somewhat close to the top) so that I could check my progress.  I had been told that the first part of the 20 miles would be relatively flat, then the climbing would start somewhere between 7-10 miles past the gate.

The park is beautiful.  Because it was so early there was little traffic, and the elk were active.  I saw a number of them, some close up.  Three males, each with antlers, were on the side of the road when I approached slowly.  They crossed in front and entered the woods.  They were much larger than I had realized.

My strategy for the climb was to just buckle down, averaging 4-4.5 mph, and take a break every hour.  If it worked, I would be at the Visitor's Center in 3-4- hours of climbing, depending on whether it was 10 miles or 13 miles of climbing.  As the miles on the flat section progressed, it became clear that it would be 10 miles, not 13.  Hurray!

The climbing started.  It was going almost exactly as I had hoped.  My legs had felt a bit weak early in the morning, but now felt strong.  At four miles, I took a break.  At 8 miles I took a break.  Still feeling strong.  I broke out of the treeline and could see, way up on the side of the mountain, the visitor's center.  The road curved way off the the left for quite a ways, then made a sharp turn and, still climbing went up to the visitors center.  I passed a sign that said "You are two miles above sea level.  10,560 feet".  Because of the elevation gain needed to get to the top over such a short number of miles, there were no level spots, just climbing:  some steep parts, some not so steep parts.  I continued up the road as it angled left, knowing that it would still be quite some time before arriving at the visitor's center.  I was getting tired but still feeling fine, feeling for the first time the effect of the high altitude.  I reached the hairpin turn leading up to the visitor's center, probably 1/4 to 1/2 mile away, when the roof started to cave in.

A combination of events created alot of consternation on my part, which created physical difficulties.  The traffic, by now, was getting heavy.  When the road angled up to the left, the mountainside was on my right, but as I rounded the hairpin turn to the right, I was, all of a sudden, on the unprotected side of the road.  It was narrow, with a 4 inch shoulder, and a sharp 60-70 degree drop off, with no guard rails.  For the first time, I became scared.  When I go slower than 5 mph,and when I am nervous, I tend to wobble a bit, and several times I wobbled perilously close to the edge of the road.  Traffic was lined up behind me.  I was having a hard time getting the needed amount of oxygen into my lungs.  My stomach was starting to get nauseous.  When I reached the Visitor's Center, I stopped on the side, and walked the bike into the parking lot, which was large and full of cars and people.  My breathing was hard for the 15 minutes that I was there, not back to normal even when I resumed my ride.  There was still more climbing for perhaps another mile or so, I wasn't sure.

My new strategy was to forget about trying to be polite to the cars behind me, and stick close to the center of my lane, a reasonable distance from the sheer drop on the side.  It worked, and not one driver showed displeasure by honking or shouting.  As I reached what I thought was the top, I rounded the corner and the road kept going up, seemingly forever.  At this point I am in sort of an automatic, emergency mode:  just pedalling;  not thinking too clearly;  trying to stay safe.  At least three times, maybe more, I don't even remember, I had to pull over and stop to catch my breath for a couple of minutes.  To go from such strength to such weakness was discouraging and humbling.  But at some point, shortly after a stop for a breather, I started to descend.  Estes Park was 15 miles away.  There was a small climb near the bottom but nothing serious.  My leg strength is gone but I'm safe.  I did Trail Ridge.  And I am only a few miles from the home of my cousin, Dick Cross.  He is waiting for me.

But I made it!  Trail Ridge and all of the other mountain passes and Continental Divides became things of the past.  I lost track of the number of mountain passes-it was more than the 14 I had originally projected.  The Continental Divide was crossed 6-8 times.  Now it will mainly be rolling hills.  The steepness of the hills will increase from southern Illinois into Kentucky, Virginia and North Carolina, but they are a ways off.

Dick, my cousin, was waiting in the driveway when I walked the bike up the hill (my legs had given out on me) and he graciously opened up his refrigerator and prepared a large meal.  I was in bad need of a shower and took care of that next.  Dick's brother, Greg, showed up and the three of us went out for dinner in Estes Park.  Surprisingly I was still hungry.  We had a great time.

Tomorrow will be a rest day in Estes Park.  Dick is going to show me the sights around the area, and his sister, Richelle, and her husband, Dave, would come over for dinner.  Tuesday morning, after a full day's rest, I would depart for Boulder. 

Will McMahan