In honor of Mother's Day, My Grandkids, Aidan and Gabby who are lucky to have such a wonderful mom in Teresa! And, My mom, Mary Jane, in a Kentucky Hat Shop, getting ready to go to the Kentucky Derby. (she bet on the wrong horse!)
I had two death defying experience this week, one while training for the Iron Horse and one on a different kind of Bike.
The Iron Horse experience first. Training is going pretty well. I’m doing something every day, from leg presses to short flat fast rides to rides up and around the Fort Lewis College Campus.
Today, I planned a two hour afternoon bike ride down La Posta road, south of Durango. But in the morning, I was at the Cabin I live at at Electra Lake (8500 feet) and decided that it would be better to get some altitude training. My road bike was in town, but I had my mountain bike and thought that it really doesn’t matter what type of riding you do as long as you do some!
First, I took my mom’s dog, Jewels, with me as I rode on the road around the lake. She got a workout and I got warmed up. Then, I left her are the cabin and headed south of the dam, down a old dirt road that has a lot of up and down in it. The road goest to Four Bay, which is a small lake above the canyon where the Animas River Runs.
Normally, and the plan for today, was to go about 3/4 of the way down that road and then turn off on another dirt road (path, deer trail) that leads to Haviland Lake, a small recreational fishing lake near highway 550. I would then jump on the highway, ride back to Electra and would have gotten a great two hour workout.
The problem started when I missed the turn off to Haviland and ended up at Four Bay. I definitely did not want to pedal up the hill I just came down and I thought to myself, “I bet there is another trail off to the west from here that would lead me back to the highway.”
So, I started out. Had to ford a stream, carry the bike over a small dam and under a flume, and I did find an old road. It wound around a hill and up and down, then mostly down, then disappeared. I was on a ridge and it seemed pretty smooth, so I decided to ride down it. Mistake.
Eventually, after going over lots of logs and through bushes, I found myself at the top of about a 40 foot cliff. Not a straight up and down cliff, but one that had ledges and places where you could find footholds. Now, I had a choice. If I had gone left, or right at the top of the ridge, I could have traveled to the bottom of the canyon in front of me on fairly smooth terrain. As it was, the only way to get back to that terrain would be to push or carry the bike about half a mile back up the hill. That wasn’t going to happen.
I picked the bike up, put it first on my right shoulder and began climbing down the cliff. About ten feet down, I had to reverse directions, so I switched shoulders and moved the other way. I was doing fine until one of the rocks I was standing on broke loose and a was just able to grab an bush that was growing out of the rock.
I stopped and got myself back together and remember thinking, “No one knows where I am. I don’t have a cell phone. If I fall off of this rock and am not hurt too bad, I might be able to crawl out, but if I were hurt badly, or even killed, it could be twenty years before someone discovered a skeleton with a Monavie biking jersey. And everyone would think the same thing I’m thinking now. “What the hell am I doing here?””
But, no choice in the matter, so I edged down and finally reached level ground where I found myself bushwhacking through a pretty dense growth. Then, about a mile in, I found some survey flags, spaced about 10 yards apart that seemed to head in the direction of the highway.
It is an absolutely beautiful canyon and the flags seemed out of place. I knew is was Forest Service Land. Then It dawned on me. During the Bush Administration with Secretary of the Interior Gale Norton, the Government had approved a trade with the Glacier Club, a very nice high end gated community with a golf course owned by a Texas multi-millionaire, a large parcel of land south of Haviland Lake. In return, the Forest Service got a worthless piece of land of top of a mountain where no one will ever go and a piece of land that gave the public access to the Hermosa Trail, which the public already had access to.
So, I’m sitting here, scratched all up, looking at this absolutely pristine forest that was going to be filled with houses and condos that our government traded for absolutely nothing. Hundreds of people wrote letters and protested the trade, the Glacier Club owners and the Forest Service were the only ones in favor of it, but it went through. I’m not saying there was any money under the table, or any political favors involved because this is the United States and we don’t do that, but it really made me see what a completely stupid decision this was by the people who control those decisions.
Shortly after, I came on the hiking and horse trails that wind through the property and rode back towards Haviland. When I got close, the trail wound again to the south, so I opted to cut through the bush and forest to get to the road. As I came out near the camping area at Chris Park, a young man about five years old grabbed his father’s hand and asked, “Why is that man in the bushes with a bicycle?” His father had no reasonable answer and I certainly couldn’t think of one, so I told his wife Happy Mother’s Day and headed to the highway, back to the cabin and the whole adventure only took three and one half hours. And with the exception of the cliff, it was all good.
The second near death experience came a few days earlier. I just bought a 1980 Honda Motorcycle. It weighs about 500 pounds. The first nice day last week, I road it to the cabin, had a great ride, and pulled into the driveway. I put the kickstand down and got off of the bike, never thinking that the ground was soft from the snow the two days earlier.
I turned around and, as I was taking by backpack off, with my arms trapped behind me, the bike fell over and hit me right in the posterior. The force of it sent me flying forward and into the wood pile where, I am certain, my helmet saved my life. I knocked that pile of wood all over the place and then had to deal with getting my arms out of the back pack and my legs out from under the motorcycle!
At 500 pounds, it took me a while to get the leverage to stand it back up, but there was no serious damage to the bike. My ego suffered a little! So, I am a firm believer in motorcycle helmets. Don’t leave home with out them!
Again, thank you to all you have donated the the Lance Armstrong Foundation and supported me and so many other people in riding the Iron Horse. We are three weeks out.
I am reminded that in every sacred text, all the new age literature and the advice of wise people, the rule is that you have to give in order to receive. As Americans, we are the most giving people on the planet. We should be proud of that.
Remember, every dollar makes a difference.
Ten bucks, three lattes at Starbucks, that’s all it takes to help someone through a tough time! The Iron Horse team has now raised over $57,000!
To Donate: http://ride.livestrong.org/teamls2011/jacksonclark
Or mail your check Made out to Livestrong Foundation, % Jackson Clark
P.O. Box 2168, Durango, Colorado 81302
Thank you!
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