Trail Time by Brad

Okay this weekend I chose some familiar grounds to tread on and one of my all time favorite trails, Buffalo Creek/Pine Valley. The trail system is between the towns of Pine Junction and Deckers just west of Denver off of Hwy 285. (sorry Dad and Rick, I did not bring my fly fishing gear)

Just about 1000 feet of elevation change.

The trail system is inside the Pike National Forest with some trails weaving through the old Hayman Fire burn area. Coincidentally, this weekend marked the 5 year anniversary of that very tragic record setting wild fire (http://denver.rockymountainnews.com/news/hayman/).

The day was perfect for riding. Around 70 degrees with not a cloud in sight and this ride would remain sunny and dry. I opted to ride the south half of the trail system and parked at the usual Buffalo Creek Ranger Station. I was not surprised when I pulled in and saw a number of other riders had the same idea. Maybe I should have went fishing instead of riding.

Entering Pike National Forest from Buffalo Creek Road is pretty easy. Starts with a very gradual 3 mile climb that parallels Buffalo Creek all the way to Gashouse and Baldy trails heads. The constant hum of the gravel road put me in a trance and I dreamed of landing a monster brown on a #16 Olive Caddis fly or where I would build my dream mountain retreat.

As the road wound its way gradually toward the upper sections of the forest, it started to get warmer and I began to notice how intense the sun was. Buffalo Creek was looking pretty good for a quick dip.

Unlike Centennial Cone, Buffalo Creek was sparsely populated by wildflowers. It even seemed less green too despite the generous amounts of moisture this area had received this spring as well. I did manage to spot a few beauties along the road. More prevalent were the bright yellow butterflies and rainbow colored humming birds that whizzed around me with that unmistakable buzz.

As I climbed farther up, the air was thick with that great dry pine smell. That smell instantly reminded me of where I was at. I wish I could bottle it up and take it with me everywhere.

Buffalo Creek

Solid rock!

Gotta watch out for those falling snags!

Buffalo Creek

After about 45 minutes, I finally made it to the "real" starting point. My path today was going to be Gashouse to Baldy to Miller Gulch to Sandy Wash.

As you can see, the scenery changed dramatically once at the trailhead. The remnants of the Hayman Fire are still present but signs of life (and green) have begun to emerge from the ashes.

Beside the fear of getting knocked unconscious by a falling snag, Gashouse rocked. Almost rollercoaster like with its numerous ups-and-downs and side-to-side as the trail cleverly snaked it way through the burned pines.

More burn areas

By this point I still have not seen one person yet. Being all alone out in the middle of nowhere can sometimes feel a tad intimidating but at the same time, empowering. I sprinted up Gashouse and eventually made it back out of the burn area and into better smelling trees.

Baldy was much of the same but with a few technical sections thrown in for some injury opportunities. Luckily my card was not drawn this time and I made it through without a single reminder of my last ride. Yes, it is rideable but just barely and it took me a couple of tries.

Up through Baldy to Miller Gulch. Miller was great. Nice wide fire road with great hills but was mostly downhill with very little pedal effort. Had to watch out for those sneaky water bars otherwise one could shoot you easily 3 feet into the air.

Made it about halfway through Miller toward Sandy Wash before I was hailed to stop. Three guys were pulled over along side the trail looking a tad confused and tired. Before they said one word I knew they were lost and wanted to find the easiest back to their car. Two of the three guys were from Europe with a great British accent the other was apparently a local who either had too much sun or hadn't ridden these trails in a while. A quick peek at a map I had stashed in my pocket and they opted to follow me out. They were in for a real treat, I saved the best for last. We cruised down Miller for another couple of miles taking turns hitting perfectly spaced water bars for some two wheeled air time. When we finally hit the Sandy Wash turnoff, a breathtaking view greeted us. (Sorry no pics, I was having too much fun and forgot I still had the camera) We took in the view for a couple of minutes and started off again. I forgot how fun and fast Sandy Wash was.

Before we knew it we were back at the parking lot and reminisced for a couple of minutes. I bid them good day and was off again. I forgot how fun it can be riding with others but I'd still rather ride alone enjoying the views and sounds.

Mmmm, yummy by Brad

Yeah right!

More California Pics by Melissa

6.8.07

Grandma Johnson sent more photos highlighting our recent trip to California!


A big day for Uncle David...



A beautiful day at Muir Woods:



Any requests? I am great at 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star'



Catch the crab, Grandpa!



the water was FREEZING!







We ate lots of yummy desserts including this milkshake!

Buzzzz by Melissa

6.8.07

I gave Ben a really short haircut - not quite a buzz but definitely the shortest I have cut it. He looks like such a big boy!

NICE!!!!!!! by Brad

Lookin' good to me. Time to ride!

Lions and Tigers and Cows? by Melissa

6.5.07

Ben and I had a (short) visit to the zoo today. Great weather but REALLY crowded. Aunt Cathy, Owen and Gavin joined us!

Owen wanted to see zebras, Ben wasn't really into the animals, and Gavin wanted to see a cow.







Um - where have those hands been?



So, what was the highlight of our trip to the zoo? Giraffes? Mongoose? Lions? Polar Bears? No. Riding the TRAIN of course!

Trail Time by Brad

Managed to get out for what was supposed to be a quick 1-2 hour ride that turned into a semi-epic ride that lasted over 3 painful hours. I was in the mood for something new, so I decided to try a new trail and headed out west of Golden up Hwy 6 almost to Central City/Blackhawk (about 12 miles west of Golden through Clear Creek Canyon).

The drive was great. Traffic was decent and the ever present sound of rushing water made all the distractions disappear as I snaked along next to Clear Creek. Saw tons of great fly fishing spots but the water was running a tad high and fast for my likes. But the numerous rafters and kayackers looked like they were having a blast. Eventully made it to the first of 3 trail heads but after a quick 30 second ride from the car, I was forced to turn around and pack everything up again due to trail maintenance and drive another 15 minutes to the next trail head.

Finally got there and ready to ride. The conditions were perfect. Right around 60-65 degrees at 7000 feet and the sun shining bright. You could definitely tell it was spring in the Mountains. Everywhere you looked, the trails were painted in bright greens, blues, yellows, and whites. I kick myself for not lugging our camera in my hydration pack. But who needed the extra weight, I was about to get my a$$ kicked something hard.

The trail was Centennial Cone in Jefferson County which I heard was on the easier side.

So much for easy.

Over 900 feet of constant elevation change in about 14 miles. Thankfully the trails were glassy smooth and nary a technical section other than one or two rocky stair step sections.

The trail off the upper parking lot was a super fast downhill section for almost 3 miles. It was great rippin through dusty single track while a rainbow of colors blurred past me. But what goes down must come back up.?.?

Up and down up and down as the hours ticked by. I was having a blast. Then, BAMMMMMM......BAMMMMM! A very distant rumble of thunder was making its echoed way up the valleys to where I was biking. Great, just my luck and the weather guy said very slight chance of a spotty shower or two. I guess I was lucky enough to hit that one spot. I kept rippin it through the pines and rocks while keeping an eye out for those dreaded black clouds.

About halfway through the loop, I started to run low on gas and my hams were starting to burn but the trails were too much fun and the scenery kept getting better. Eventually I hit another closure sign about 9 miles in. This time for Elk. Apparently it was prime breeding time for elk and they stake claim to the upper meadow areas of the park. Out of respect for the horny elk, I decided to turn around and go back the way I came. This is where everything started to go very wrong.

Legs burning, running low on water, and no Clif Bars in my pack, I made my way back up and down up and down the mountains back toward the parking lot. About 2 miles into retracing my tracks those dredded black cloads surprised me as I turned a corner and the sky opened up. For the most part it remained just an annoying humidity raising sprinkle. Just enough to add spots to the glasses and make my jersey stick to my already sweaty body. At about 7 miles back from where I left the elk, I had my first crash on my new bike. I guess I have been riding on borrowed time for this long without a flesh wound or worse, a beauty mark on my new ride. Luckily it was my body that took the brunt of my careless momentum into a very tight switch back and not my pretty new bike. Not bad until I got back to the car to pick out the small rocks and dirt.

Post dirt and rock removal from side of knee.

Hams burning, knee getting sore, glasses blurry, shirt sticking I wind my way back up and down up and down thinking the whole way "why did I choose to ride a new trail today"? It was about 2 miles away from the parking lot, exhausted, that I lost the last bit of positive mental attitude I started with. Everything hurt, everything sucked. I stopped a few times to rest and suck my hydration pack dry but eventually made it back to the car.

Once packed up and sitting on the back end of my dirty Ford Explorer, I reflected on the ride and took in the high elevation scenery one more time. I thought, "Man what a ride............., I think I'll do it again next week". And that's why I love mountain biking and living in Colorado. Next time I'll bring the camera.