Getting to the Starting Point

Getting to the Starting Point 

This summer’s tour had a complicated start. In addition to and prior to my bike tour I was bringing my mother’s remains to the summit of Flattop Mountain in Rocky Mountain National Park. There were so many complicated moving parts that needed to perfectly mesh, and I was particularly nervous this time.

I began organizing and packing for the tour about a week before my flight to Denver. On Monday I had brought my bike back over to Sun & Air bike shop in Brooklyn. My chain had been skipping on the front middle chain ring and I thought that maybe the chain needed to be shortened. After my spring tour in April the mechanics had replaced the chain, rear cassette, rear derailleur, and all of the cables and housing. Back at the shop, I was told that my middle chain ring was worn, and that there wasn’t enough time to order a replacement. Why had this not been pointed out to me the first time? The mechanic compared the transmission parts to roommates. The new chain and cassette weren’t getting along with the old chain ring. My granny gear was still in good shape, and the large ring was worn but still rideable. This crankset had gotten me over 15,000 miles. I could ride without the middle ring, but I felt more secure with a replacement. I ordered a 32 tooth ring and had it Fedexed to Denver. The mechanic verified the part before I placed the order. 

I wrapped up my semester’s grading and was fully packed by Thursday evening. I completed and mailed my NYC primaries absentee ballot. My packed equipment box weighed 48lbs and the bike box was under the 115” combined dimension limit. I had to remove the front fork and handle bars to fit it into the box. I zip-tied all of the parts together inside the box. I was additionally traveling with a backpack, containing my mother’s ashes, my sleeping bag, cycling outfits, a sweater, my power pack, and my laptop. My helmet would travel on my head. 

The Uber showed up at 5:06AM Friday morning and I was at JFK by 5:37AM. There were so many potential problems, but everything went smoothly. Oversized baggage accepted the large boxes, and I later noticed that TSA inspected the bike box as per usual. The wooden box containing my mom's remains was repeatedly swabbed, and eventually released to me. All flights suck, especially when you have long legs, you're in the middle seat, and a heavy person is besides you. In Denver my boxes were waiting as soon as I got to baggage claim. The rental car bus pulled up to the curb right as I got there. Since I was ahead of schedule and didn’t want to show up to the Denver bike shop with a bike in pieces, I assembled my bike out in front of the rental car place and then put everything in the car. 

I was staying with my college friend Don, who made a guest appearance in my 2018 TransAm blog. Coincidentally my college friend Sam and his girlfriend Scarlett (who made guest appearances in my 2019 and 2020 cross-country blogs) would be in Denver for the weekend. We all met at Charlie Brown’s for sandwiches and beers.

My new middle chain ring had arrived by the time we got back to Don’s so I brought my bike over to Z Cycle shop for Eduardo the mechanic to take a look at. I drove over to REI to purchased cooking gas and reserved snow shoe and pole rentals. The Denver REI was impressive to say the least. Eduardo called to tell me that the chain ring I ordered was the wrong size. Why do Brooklyn bike shops suck? Is it the high rent? Eduardo asked to hold onto my bike, and told me he’d call me tomorrow.

Don and I took his dog Wayne over to the Watering Bowl, which was an amazing dog park and outdoor bar. Somebody in Brooklyn should copy this idea, jack up the prices, and make it sucky. For dinner, Don cooked an amazing shrimp pasta dish and we stayed up drinking beer and sipping cognac. I was definitely feeling the altitude.

In the morning Don and I walked over to Crepes n' Crepes for breakfast and Bloody Mary’s. I got a call from Eduardo. Bike shops out in the heartland are amazing! He had taken a middle ring from another crank set and put it on mine. My bike was all ready to go! I brought it back to Don’s where I installed the fenders, front rack, and handlebar bag mount. It was time to go for a long bike ride! Don smoked ribs in his backyard, which we enjoyed for dinner while watching Papillon (the 1973 version with Steve McQueen). Once again we sipped beer and cognac. 

When we woke up on Sunday morning, there was heavy rain, and I was nervous about the mountain conditions at Flattop. I bid farewell to Don, and drove over to REI to pick up the snow shoes and pole rentals. I then drove through the heavy rain north to Boulder, where I’d be having dinner with my college friend Kara. During dinner, she mentioned that the trail to Flattop might not be accessible because of a limited COVID registration system. I drove to my hotel in Estes Park and asked the receptionist about this while checking in. I was told that no one was at the park gate between the hours of 6PM and 5AM. It was going to be an early start.

I woke up at 4AM and was at the trailhead by 4:30AM. There were a few skiers and hikers in the parking lot with the same idea. It was freezing, and I was wearing wool socks, water-proof socks, running shoes, my travel pants, rain pants, a short-sleeve jersey, a long sleeve jersey, a cycling sweater, a down jacket that had been pushed on me at REI, a balaclava, and my rain jacket. 

My mother had been an avid hiker who loved this area. She died in 2019 and and had wanted her remains to be brought to the summit of Flattop. The out and back trail length was 8.2 mi, with an elevation gain of 2,870' to the  12,327’ summit. I was still having difficulty adjusting to the mile-high altitude in Denver. Fortunately my friends Eileen and Klaus from my 2018 TransAm tour had been in Colorado the week before. They were celebrating their third wedding anniversary by attempting to hike to the top of 14,440’ Mt. Elbert, Colorado’s highest peak. Unfortunately because of bad weather, they didn’t summit. The silver lining for me, was that they give me every piece of advice I’d need to get mom to the top of Flattop. In addition to the snow shoes and poles, they told me to get a pair of gaiters and a bottle of oxygen. I never would have made it without their sage advice.

It was a long epic climb. Beginning at the parking lot, the entire trail was snow-covered. I had never used snow shoes and it took some adjusting and practice to become acclimated. The pink plastic trail blazing ties were hard to follow and my GPS was unreliable, so I followed footprints. At one point I realized that I was lost and that my oxygen bottle was missing. Lucky me, two Australians in snow shoes appeared and seemed to know where they were going. They had spotted my oxygen bottle a hundred meters back on the trail. We hiked together to the tree line, where they turned around. It was now 8:30Am and I was apparently halfway there. They warned me about afternoon storms and high-altitude breathing difficulties as I continued. The snow was deep and I felt like quitting many times. The temperature warmed, and I stopped several times to shed layers. A female cross-country skier appeared followed by two male skiers. They were all headed to the summit of Flattop, and I now had a trail I could follow. Sometimes I could only walk twenty feet before I needed to stop and take oxygen. It was a difficult long ascent. Near the top I heard loud thunder-cracks of avalanches, that terrified the skiers. I avoided the edge of the mountain. I reached the summit at noon, and spread my mother’s ashes at the highest point.

The descent was easier, as the thickening oxygen worked in my favor. I was back in the parking area by 3PM. I had a burger and a few beers at the Wapiti Pub. Afterward I drove over to Safeway where I purchased a six pack of Sam Adams and a large bag of epsom salts. I soaked in the hotel room tub for hours before editing this report. 

I slept OK in my bed. Puss oozed from the sunburned scabs on my face and I had thought the liquid was blood. My face was blistering and it was painful to shave. I could now see the brown puss that had frightened me in the night. My alarm was set for 6AM and I did a quick methodical pack. I broke my rule of not allowing items waiting to be packed to sit on the unmade bed. There was frost on the car windshield and it was chilly out. The nights up in the Rockies were cold. It was a fast drive back down to Denver. I went to the post office and mailed home my backpack, running shoes, and dress shirts. I returned my rentals to REI and began the 90 minute drive to Pueblo. The Rocky Mountains were to the west and the plains to the east. I pulled into the rental car place 30 minutes ahead of schedule.

⥢ prev -home- next ⥤