Monthly Archives: June 2018

Cycling from Colorado Springs to Denver

It started with a two hour bus ride, from Denver to Colorado Springs, on something called the Bustang. Bustang is a pretty good service for cyclists in Colorado, as each bus has bike racks on the front. It would be a great service with more schedule options. For anyone thinking of making this journey, the only real option is the 7:35 A.M. departure from Denver, which arrived in downtown Colorado Springs just after 9:30.

Colorado Springs is an interesting town. People who think about Colorado Springs often think about one of two things; its affiliation with Christian conservative causes, as it is where Focus on the Family is headquartered, and Pike’s Peak, the mountain that towers over the city to the west.

Pike’s Peak is actually only the 20th tallest peak in the State. Yet, it is often amongst the most visited and talked about because, compared to many of Colorado’s other mountains, it is relatively isolated.

14ers_PikesPeak

Perhaps most importantly, Colorado Springs is among the most active and fittest cities in America.

This was apparent as I began to pedal north from downtown Colorado Springs. The Pike’s Peak Greenway, was quite crowded for much of the journey, with joggers, packs of runners, and other cyclists.

At the northern border of Colorado Springs, the Pike’s Peak Greenway connects to the New Santa Fe Trail. Both of these trails are part of a long term plan to create what is being called the Front Range Trail, a network of trails that will eventually cross the entire state from the Wyoming border to the New Mexico border, through many of Colorado’s most populated cities. Sings for the Front Range Trail have already been put in place here.

For some riders, the New Santa Fe Trail has the potential to be the roughest part of the ride. Much of it is both uphill, and unpaved. It also runs right through the property of the United States Air Force Academy.

Many sections of it are quite rough, probably more suitable for mountain bikes than road or touring bikes. Along this stretch, there were about half a dozen instances where I had to dismount and walk my bike for a short distance.

It was still a beautiful place to bike. The trail cuts through fields of Piñon Pines, and Monument Creek creates some picturesque mini-cliffs in front of the mountains.

However, although the journey up the hill is actually quite subtle, with no switchbacks or steep climbs, it did take more time and energy than anticipated to get to Palmer Lake, the high point of the trip, at an elevation of about 7,300 feet (2225 m).

The next part of the ride was my favorite, north along Perry Park Road. This section is mostly downhill, but with some rolling hills. It was a wonderful 25 mile per hour ride on a smooth road, with bright blue skies, wide open spaces, rock formations popping out on both sides around every turn, and a light cooling breeze.

There are a few route options at this point, and following Perry Park Road as long as I did, a little over 10 miles to Tomah Road, does bypass the town of Larkspur. I found it worthwhile, as I was enjoying the ride, but it does mean a total of about 20 miles between towns.

Turning East, Tomah Road was actually the most challenging climb on the entire ride. The total climb is pretty small, from about 6200 feet to just over 6800. However, that climb occurred in less than two miles, and can be unexpected, as Castle Rock is at 6200 feet and this climb came from one of the subtle terrain features east of the Rocky Mountains.

After climbing and descending Tomah Road, the route was follows the Frontage Road along I-25 for about four miles into Castle Rock. Despite it being right next to the interstate, the road was quite crowded, and with no shoulder. It was probably the least enjoyable part of the ride.

This was also where I struggled the most. It was the hottest part of the day, and after the unanticipated challenges, I began to doubt whether or not I could complete the ride. In these situations, it is usually good to stop and take a rest. The additional time it took on the unpaved trail up Monument Hill had set me back at least half an hour, but I definitely needed a rest, a snack, and, most importantly, I had a coke.

Maybe it was the caffeine, maybe it was the sugar, but the coke re-energized me, and I was back on my way.

Crawfoot Valley Road, the road that connects Castle Rock and Parker was surprisingly crowded. It is a good thing there is a wide enough shoulder for bikes. This area is growing quite rapidly, and seems to get busier every time I ride this segment.

My next burst of energy was actually mental, which is usually the battle we are actually facing when we decide to undertake physical challenges like this. In Parker, the route connects to the Cherry Creek Trail, an amazing trail that is fun, well kept, and mostly flat.

From here, it is 30 miles to downtown Denver. This sign (the Cherry Creek Trail has one every 1/2 a mile, but this is the first one I saw when I joined the trail) felt like a welcoming of sorts, to the home stretch. The final 30 miles of the trip would feel like a victory lap.

I knew there was only one real climb remaining, the part where the trail goes around the Cherry Creek Reservoir.

It reminded me of this weird place we often find ourselves in life, where we know some sort of “victory” is coming. We can sense it on the horizon. We are anticipating it. However, it is not there yet. There is still some amount of work that needs to be done, and there is still some things that can go wrong.

Is it too soon to start feeling good about ourselves? Can we start celebrating something that is “about” to happen? Or, do we remain cautious and diligent, understanding that although we feel we deserve this victory, it has not yet happened, and it is still not yet time to celebrate?

That was how the final 30 miles felt for me. The first half went by fast. However, as I got closer and closer, anticipation increased, and this “homestretch” seemed to drag on.

At that point, there really is no choice but to pound out that final ten miles, with those mixed emotions. I knew I had persevered, ended up having to take on more than expected, and would arrive at home triumphant that I had ridden my bike from Colorado Springs to Denver. However, I would have to keep pedaling those last few miles before I could check that box off my internally kept bucket list.

Moose at Rocky Mountain National Park

Leave a reply

We humans seem to have some kind of fascination with moose. There must be something about that animal. Several years ago I was on a weekend ski trip in Breckenridge. The condo our group stayed in had a moose theme. Every decoration .. moose. The pictures hung on the wall. The design on the pillows. Even the back of the couches. It was impossible to rotate my head more than 15 degrees without seeing six new images of moose, in one form or another.

It is nearly impossible to drive around Colorado, or anywhere in the West, without eventually seeing cars with decals like this one.

Moose_Decal

Two years ago, when I rode my bike through the White Mountains of Central New Hampshire, I saw advertisements for numerous “Moose Tours”, in the town of Lincoln, NH. These tours involve a bunch of people crowding in a van of some sorts and heading out into the wilderness to look for moose. A subsequent Google search revealed page after page of companies offering moose tours. There are a lot in New Hampshire, some in Maine, a bunch in Canada. There are even “Moose Safaris” in Norway and Sweden!

Added altogether, there has to be at least hundreds, possibly thousands, of people who earn a livelihood helping tourists see moose!

I woke up on a mid-summer Saturday morning without a real plan. I wanted to go by instinct, as I’ve been trying to avoid overtaking things lately. That instinct told me to head to Grand Lake, a place I had actually not been to before.

Grand Lake is perhaps best known for having Colorado’s largest naturally occurring lake, however, the town itself is pretty interesting too.

Just West of Rocky Mountain National Park, it attracts a lot of visitors and tourists, not unlike Estes Park, the more well known town east of the park. Compared with Estes, it is a little bit quieter, and the buildings also have somewhat of a more western feel.

It is also apparently near the part of Rocky Mountain National Park where visitors are most likely to find moose. I had no idea when I decided to hit up the Green Mountain Trail, the first major trailhead one encounters after entering the National Park from the West.

I just knew I wanted to be out in nature, and have a break from my pursuits back in Denver. I knew there was some sort of healing power in being immersed in a place like this.

I wasn’t even tracking my progress along the trail. I wasn’t thinking about where I was, where I was headed, or what I was hoping to see. I was just there, in the moment, in the deep evergreen forests of the Upper Colorado River valley, apparently headed for a meadow, when a woman walked up to me and told me that there was a family of moose 200 feet past the next trail junction, in the meadow, where moose are typically expected to be spotted.

I must admit, that although I do not count myself as one of those moose obsessed people, when I heard this, I got extremely excited- almost giddy. It was a feeling that is hard to explain. It felt almost like the excitement that comes over someone’s entire body when they suddenly hear their favorite song, or that their secret crush asked about them, or that their best friend got them tickets to see their favorite performer. It’s that suddenly bubbly feeling that often comes more frequently from anticipation than an actual event.

They first appeared in the distance, walking up toward big meadow. Two other families were watching them, in awe.

It is never a good idea to get too close to moose. They are dangerous and powerful. This was about as close as I wanted to get.

Even from somewhat of a protected distance, it was still an amazing experience. We watched them gradually walk downstream along the Tonahutu Creek in this wide open meadow. I am really not sure if they saw us at all. I imagine they did, but serious did not care. It is as if the moose are the ones that have perfected the art of not caring about the judgements of those around them.

I am actually nearly 100% certain that had there not been a bunch of humans taking pictures of them and watching them slowly walk by, they would not be acting any differently. Maybe I deeply respect that about them. If only more of us humans can learn to stop relying on the approval and attention of others.

What is it about these creatures that capture so many of our imaginations? There are, after all, plenty of large mammals to be spotted on this planet. What makes the moose worthy of hundreds of tour companies in Eastern North America, decals on countless SUVs, and an entire section of nearly every Western themed home decoration store.

It is probably that the quest to spot a moose has all of the ingredients that any other worthwhile life quest could have. As is the case with learning a new skill like car repair, finding the right date for a school dance, or finding a rare collectable, it is a challenge, a deep one, but an obtainable one. This is important because if a challenge seems impossible, it would not be taken on by too many people. People who do not believe in the existence of BigFoot are not going to go searching for it.

There is also something amazing about the end result. This is important because there has to be some sort of reward that makes the challenge worth pursuing. I do not see a market for a 1,000 piece puzzle that is pure white, with no color, picture, or design. The end result would be nothing. Moose are something.

They are also unique, at least in the realm of the experiences the average human being has throughout their lives, but unique in a non-threatening way. Finding a moose in an open meadow is the right kind of unique. It is a unique people can relate to based on their own experiences, having likely seen something somewhat similar, like a horse, or some of the animals at the zoo. It is not too far out there for one to relate to.

So, in a way, seeing a moose after trying and failing a bunch of times, is a metaphor for obtaining the things we most cherish in this life. We have to work for it. There is some amount of reliance on luck. The reward is something amazing and unique, but also tangible, obtainable, and relatable. Now I understand why so many people love these creatures.

The Largest Farmers Market in the USA

Leave a reply

It is the farmers market that ruined me for all other farmers markets. When I lived in Madison, Wisconsin, for several years, I would regularly attend the Dane County Farmer’s Market, the largest producer-only farmer’s market in the country. Every Saturday morning during the warm season, the entire capital square would be filled with vendors, selling fresh produce, flowers, baked goods, and, of course, because this is Wisconsin, cheese and meat.

Each Saturday, between 9 A.M. and noon, crowds of people pack the sidewalks that surround the capitol square, creating a lively scene. It was enough volume, enough activity, that every other farmer’s market I visited after this one has left me asking “Is this it”?

That is partially because the Dane County Farmers Market is a unique experience in a unique place. It was included as a “must see” in the book 1,000 Places to See in the USA & Canada Before You Die.

The book, however, was published in 2007, and a lot has changed since then. One distinct characteristic of the 21st century is the presence of simultaneous contradictory trends. For example, we have a new generation of people emerging who both spend over nine hours per day in front of screens and prefer face-to-face interactions. Likewise, while obesity rates continue to climb, people are also becoming more health conscious and more aware of the food they consume.

Specifically, with detox diets, and awareness of the amount of waste caused by our food distribution system, more and more people are desiring locally sourced food. This can be seen at grocery stores and even some restaurants, where more and more displays indicate that food was produced on a “local” farm. Farmers markets are expanding everywhere to meet this increasing demand to buy locally produced preservative free produce. Some lists of top farmers markets in the USA published more recently do not even include the Dane County Farmers Market.

The Dane County Farmers Market still certainly represents a unique experience, as it has always been about more than just the vendors.

As far as I can remember, Madison has always been a very political town. On all four corners of the square, booths promoting political causes and local candidates are an expected presence. Along the roads that radiate outward from the Capitol Square, more interesting activity can be found, including live performances, some additional vendors and demonstrations of activities like wood carving, and even an impromptu children’s play area placed in front of the children’s museum.

I would say that Madison, Wisconsin is certainly more interesting than most towns around this size. The college campus guarantees plenty of interesting cultural activities. The pedestrian mall, State Street, that connects the capitol with campus is always active, even if it does have a speed limit that just begs people to break it… on their bicycles.

And there are the lakes, four of them to be exact, of pretty good size, one of which is directly adjacent to the University.

The city has two other characteristics that, having visited a lot of different places, feel quite surprising.

One is how strong drinks are mixed here, particularly on State Street. I ordered a make-your-own-bloody mary at one of the many establishments on State Street. Restaurants that offer this beverage typically provide a glass with vodka to mix with the other ingredients at the bloody mary bar. This is the only place where the glass provided to me was filled halfway up! Mixed drinks at other bars are also quite strong compared to the ones in most other cities.

From a now outsider perspective, it is also surprising to see how politically one-sided Madison is. Signs promoting events and groups, conversations around town and even signs in front of local businesses are quite frequently politically charged, way more so than in most other cities and towns. They are all from one side. It is as if those on the other side had been silenced or run out of town. In a State that is quite close to evenly divided politically, it feels strange to be in a place where one side has near 100% dominance of the discussion.

Sometimes I find it depressingly easy for people who live in cities to forget what region they are in, on a larger scale. Traveling around the country, it often feels like all cities are tying to build the exact same amenities as each other; luxury apartments, shared workspaces, microbreweries, and art galleries. In my current hometown of Denver there is a constant reminder of where we are, the mountains to the West which tower over the skyscrapers of the city. The Midwest does not have that, however, seeing booth after booth selling cheese curds, other agricultural products, and products like venison jerky is as clear of a reminder to any that Madison is part of Wisconsin, which is part of the Midwest.

The Surf Ballroom; A little bit of History in Iowa

Leave a reply

When one thinks of Iowa, a specific image comes to mind: One of soft rolling hills, and farms as far as the eye can see in all directions, where the sky can sometimes take on a characteristically midwestern form of murky thin cloudiness, giving a feeling that is neither cloudy nor sunny. Traveling across the state, this scene shifts quite little as the miles go by. The scenery is as steady and reliable as the culture.

Some people have a deep appreciation for the role that this corridor plays in agriculture and transportation, as indicated by this wall art at the Worlds Largest Truck Stop.

Others find it monotonous and unbearable. People have even written parodies about how uninteresting and unpleasant a drive across Iowa is. However, as is the case with most places, there is more to it than what one will see from an interstate highway, whose primary purpose is to provide the most efficient route between cities for trucks.

Tucked away among the endless miles of corn fields are a surprising number of lakes that cannot be seen from the interstate.

As well as the sites of a surprising amount of our history.

Most music fans are familiar with “The Day the Music Died“, February 3, 1959, when three of Rock and Roll’s biggest stars were all killed in a tragic plane crash. It was an event that nearly torpedoed the still young music genre’s rise to the top. It had the potential to significantly change the path music took for the remainder of the 20th Century, which could have had a major effect on the social and political movements that transformed our society from the middle of the century to where it is today.

What few people know, though, is that all of this occurred in Northern Iowa, in a town called Clear Lake. Clear Lake is a town not unlike many other towns in Iowa, and the structure and establishments feel generally like anywhere in the Midwest.

Like many place in Iowa, it has a surprisingly beautiful lake, depicted at its best by this postcard.

ClearLake_Iowa

It is also home to the Surf Ballroom, the last place anyone would ever hear the three stars of early rock and roll on the night of February 2, 1959.

Why they chose to play at this spot, on this date, feels both natural and confusing at the same time.

Perhaps because it is well preserved in its 1950s form, the venue itself feels like the exact place one would expect to hear Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valley, and the Big Bopper. It was also likely the right size, given the types of crowds that a music genre that was hot, but not quite mainstream would attract at that time in history.

With traveling being a little more difficult than today, as the interstate highway system was just being built and flying was more likely to be prohibitively expensive, it seems logical for tours to come to smaller towns. Today, it would be more likely for musical acts to have tours that cover larger distances, such as a North American tour. Fans in Clear Lake would be expected to come to Des Moines or Minneapolis to see a show. Then, it was harder on both the band and the fans. However, I still wonder, why Iowa, and why in winter? Inclement weather is one of the reasons for the plane crash.

Another is how the tour, labelled the 1959 Winter Dance Party Tour, was planned, as indicated by this display.

1959DanceParty_TripAdvisor

They toured by bus. So, having a tour date in Kenosha right after Milwaukee makes logistical sense. After that, the schedule had them meandering all over the place. These dates were all back-to-back. The show at the Surf Ballroom came at a particularly grueling time, having played in Green Bay, WI the night before, and having a show scheduled in Morehead, MN the next day. Frustrated, Buddy Holly chartered a plane to the next show- the plane that would kill the three performers. One could say that February 3rd was the “Day the Music Died”, but it was a combination of poor planning and a harsh Midwestern winter that killed it.

However, as anyone reading this in the 21st Century knows quite well, the music didn’t really die that day. A few years later, rock music would be infused with fresh life, in the form of new bands that would later be counted amongst the best of all time. The Surf Ballroom also refused to let the music die. They continued to host musical performances of all kinds, and still do to this day. They have hosted some of the all time greats.

It probably helped that the venue itself did a good job of finding the right balance, between preserving this key moment in history…

While also staying in the here and now.

Road trips are certainly more appealing when they involve more than just traveling from one destination to another, but rather, leave time to explore some of the places in between. Every place that exists, big or small, new or old, has a story to tell. The story of one small town, one of many, tucked away behind the interstate by one of Iowa’s gentle rolling hills, certainly ignites the desire to explore more, eagerly anticipating what is around the next corner, over the next hill, just beyond the horizon.

The Action Story

Learning about the world and about ourselves through travel and experiences

Monthly Archives: June 2018

Cycling from Colorado Springs to Denver

Moose at Rocky Mountain National Park

The Largest Farmers Market in the USA

The Surf Ballroom; A little bit of History in Iowa