Day 6 (Aug 20)

My alarm went off at 2am. “Last day!”

To my surprise John was still there. I asked if he’d spooned the weasel for warmth. He said “No,” but I knew this was bullshit. How else could the man have survived a night in a shower curtain at 11,500?

“John the Pirate.” I thought that would make a good trail name for him, “he who raids high places, at night, during storms, with nothing but a pet weasel and shower curtain cape/sleep system.”

We got moving quickly. It was immediately evident my body wasn’t ready to cooperate with my brain. My coordination was off – exacerbated by the night riding over chunky wet rocks.

I told John to go on ahead. I didn’t want to hold him up. He told me to do the same, though it was quite clear he was riding faster. It was never spoken, but we were basically ‘Ride or die’ CTR brothers at this point. The trail had spontaneously brought us together for so many core moments. There was no fighting it and I appreciated his company.

I’m not sure what Bolam Pass looks like during the day.

At 3am on the last day of my race it looked like a giant pile of Rocky Road ice cream – except the ice-cream was excrement and the chocolate chunks were kidney stones. Fifty-eight miles to go and the first five took forever. Will they all be this hard?

I couldn’t wait for sunrise and a hit of vitamin-D. Instead, dawn brought a cold, misty rain. Not heavy enough to cause much worry. Just one more gut-punch from the trail gods.

Fortunately, Blackhawk was beautiful (must go back for an unloaded day-ride) and the 10-miles of flow between Hotel Draw and Indian Trail Ridge were just what the doctor ordered.

I finally found my hike-a-bike legs on Indian Trail Ridge, in-part because the clouds were everywhere and seemed to be darkening. It was a huge relief when we descended off Kennebec… our last foray above tree line.

As a CTR rookie, I was really looking forward to Segment 28 – the grand finale!

The trail guide said 21.7 miles, 1,900’ of climbing and 6,500’ of descending.

Sounds like a blast, right?

Now, as a freshly minted CTRsplainer, I will tell you that no single section of the trail inflicted more damage on my body than that chunk-show. This was the only section I regretted riding a hardtail. My fingertips are still numb, and my knees are still swollen, because of the roughness of the downhill on that section. The terrain was mostly rideable, but it was continuously rocky and rooty. Tires and wheels were constantly in mortal danger.

The large hike-a-bike in the middle was a relief from the downhill pounding… right up until John rode off a cliff near the top. Luckily, he picked a good spot to do it and nailed the landing.

I judged it a “10” for no damage to self or bike. My reaction was lighthearted, but I experienced something surreal at that moment. John’s fall was big – several feet – and over the top of the bike. It was the kind of fall that could easily break bones. Yet, from the point my brain first acknowledged he was falling, I already knew outcome – that he was unscathed. Maybe my sensors and processors were out of sync? Or perhaps this fog of invincibility was real?

I felt numb, but certainly not immune to pain. Every joint ached, and my trench foot had gone apocalyptic. The soles of my feet had transformed into an oozing half-inch slab of floppy hamburger patty that felt ready to slough off at any moment.

We were both on “high alert” after John’s fall…

…or at least as alert as two dudes who have been on the move for 65 of the last 70 hours can be. After a few miles of easy rolling, (and letting my guard down) the single-track battering picked right back up again. I had to stop sooooo many times in the last 8 miles. I’m not sure why John still waited, but he did. Thank you, brother.

We finally reached the Junction Creek finish line just before 7pm. A small crowd of riders, their families, and nice folks waiting for other racers were there to cheer us in.

It was a great way to finish.

Marco took my finish picture and gave me a slice of pizza. (Love that guy!)

I hung out for an hour before the urgency of finding a place to sleep that night chased me down to town.

I didn’t have time or energy to find good food; just got some cold chicken and cake from City Market and woke up wearing it in the chair of my cheap motel room.

I love you CTR.

Route & Elevation Profile

2022 Colorado Trail Race