I felt adventurous yesterday, and the weather was more or less cooperative for a change, so I took another stab at the Gold Camp ride. No bears this time, but the Universe tried rolling rocks on me in a couple of the pucker-passes, so my Get Out of Danger Free card must still be expired.
The last time I was this far up Gold Camp Road — 20 miles from Chez Dog — I was coming down, not climbing up. A few of us thought it smart to ride mountain bikes up Old Stage Road, then descend Gold Camp to Bibleburg. Hey, it seemed like a good idea at the time … until it began raining lightly as we started the steep, seven-mile grind, then sleeting, and finally snowing.
By the time we hit Gold Camp it was a full-on whiteout, and none of us was prepared for winter weather. What a fun descent that was. I had new respect for Andy Hampsten’s Gavia ride after that one.
No snow this time around, but it wasn’t exactly toasty warm, either. I kept the knee warmers on throughout and rolled the arm warmers back up for the descent, which was a little dicey on the Voodoo Nakisi with wire-bead 700×38 WTB Allterrainasauruses. Gold Camp is in decent shape from where it goes to gravel up to the High Drive parking lot, but the surface gets a whole lot looser past the third tunnel, which is collapsed and requires a brief, steep, single-track detour with a water crossing. I had to get off and walk for 50 meters or so on one climb, which was rim-deep in pea gravel and sand.
The 40-mile out-and-back involved five tunnels, all told — four navigable and the one collapsed — and man, is it nice to have a set of Rudy Project prescription shades for that action. Just flip up the sunglass portion and you can see where the hell you’re going, kinda, sorta.
But I miss my old Avocet altimeter. I’d love to know how much vertical gain I bagged yesterday.
Mad Blog Media 
Sounds like we were both workin’ on the old railroad yesterday. Did you go by the old Geniella party palace in Cheyenne Canyon?
Nope — I took the scenic route to Gold Camp Road, which involves taking the bike path south and west into Bear Creek Park, then following a blend of single-track racecourse and a pulverized-granite trail southwest to Gold Camp, just up the road from its intersection with the exit from High Drive.
It’s a nice way to loosen up the legs while avoiding asphalt and those who love it, but you almost always encounter a few equestrians, which slows the march of progress a bit. They’re mostly all good folks, though, and so far the horses have been patient, too.
The tunnels remind me of a ride we did many years ago in the Italian Alps from one of the towns high above the Val d’Aosta. We crashed along on our MTB’s, yours truly almost going off the tiny trail through a scree slope to arrive at a dark, spooky tunnel. Painted on the rocks was the length, 800 meters. We had no lights of course, who figures there’ll be tunnels? There were a few candles left outside but we didn’t even have any matches. We thought about going back over the dicey scree for awhile but then a guy with a couple of small children emerged from the tunnel – with a flashlight of course! The wife asked him about the tunnel and he replied that it was really no big deal – even without lights. He advised us to feel our way along (there was an aqueduct running through it with a footpath along the side) walking our bikes and watching out for low spots in the ceiling ie keep your helmet on. We looked at each other, then back at the dicey scree slope and figured we’d try the lesser of the two evils – the tunnel. Since I’m typing this you know we made it through but this was the first time the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel” was NOT visible for awhile as we shuffled our way along. Finally, after what seemed like forever the light appeared…but way up high where I would NEVER have expected the exit to be. Once we came out the other side, there was NO way we were going back and luckily the trail continued so we could loop around and return to our hotel. One of those “been there, done that” experiences for sure.
Larry, these are pretty short tunnels, so no biggie. A couple have a slight curve, which makes you think, “Judas Priest, this thing goes on forever!” And then a couple pedal strokes later you see the light.
Nonetheless, since I’d like to make this a regular ride, I’m popping a Princeton Tec EOS light on the Voodoo somewhere. Probably on the right-front dropout using a nifty little Gino mount from the fine folks at Paul’s Components. There are a few divots in the deck in those tunnels, and my night vision sucks even worse than my day vision.
Not to take food off the table at Paul’s Components, but I built up the same thing about 5 years ago using a Schedule 40, 1/2 inch PVC coupler and glued in an end cap drilled to fit the appropriate bolt to fit the fork’s braze-on.
Fits a Light and Motion Vega just fine and really highlights the edges of all our spring potholes.
(Is there a way to clutter up a post with photos?)
I seem to remember the junction of GC/Old Stage is a hair over 9000′ and google earth concurs.
So, doing the math, you climbed…well, I’m not that good at math.
Its been a few years since I’ve done this ride but you planted a seed.
Doug, it’s a nice, steady climb, as you no doubt remember. It reminds me of our old haunts outside Weirdcliffe, where Herself and I lived at 8,800 feet and routinely exercised well above that.
I wouldn’t mind a slightly burlier set of tires for this ride — I have a pair of 700×45 Panaracer knobbies that fit the Voodoo — but then I’d suffer more on the low-rolling-resistance bits. I may have to do a little tire-shopping.
Impressive view. To get that high around here we’d have to take an elevator or two.
Ben, you should see some of the views we had in Weirdcliffe. My man Hal Walter at Hardscrabble Times posts a scenic from time to time, and I may root through the archives, see if I can find an old shot from our deck.
I don’t miss living there — not often, anyway — but the views were spectacular. For some reason the Sangre de Cristos Mountains as seen from the Wet Mountains seem much more imposing than the Front Range, perhaps because there’s not much interrupting the view. Weirdcliffe has more cows than people and the last time I was through town they still hadn’t acquired a stop light, though they had gotten a Subway.
Looks like summer to my eyes. I’m sure summer in your neck of the woods does look different…Gorgeous views. What a ride! A bicycle? It looks like you should be on a horse in an Anthony Mann Western. Sure enough – I looked to make certain – ‘The Far Country’ (1953; James Stewart,Janet Leigh,Robert Ryan, Ralph Meeker) was filmed in Durango, the San Juan Mountains and the Rockies.
Sounds like a fun ride Patrick. Do a few for me as I snapped my collarbone (again!) this week trying to race off-road on the local MX track. Needless to say the road less traveled is that way for a reason. Either that or I need another foot of travel on my bike.
Damn, James … how many c-bones is that for you now? Heal up quick and get back after it. I’ve only done two (one each side) and hope never to do another. That shit hurts.
This is the third time (all on the right). Sadly I have no idea how bad since the original ER diagnosis was “sprained shoulder w/ possible separation.” Strangely this one is not hurting at all. Now the road rash frickin’ is killing me!
Either way it stinks as the weather has finally gotten nice and if it is 6-8 weeks, I’ll be back on it just about the time of year when 100 degrees will be the norm. I can’t buy a break (pun not intended)…..
Heal quickly, James. Its finally nice out. I had to take the Subaru in for service on Friday and used it as an excuse to leave the shop with the car and do a 55 miler down NM 14 along the Turquoise Trail. The huffing and puffing up into the Ortiz Mts. was worth it for the view from the top and also for the fast if sometimes bumpy ride down.
Oh, and of course, happy Mother’s Day to all.