Mountain Falcon Park, Castle Trail

The cold season hit us hard this last week, so despite ridiculous un-cold-seasonably warm temperatures, I was not able to muster up much interest from a sickly [s]caq in logging some trail time this weekend. Saturday, despite our sore throats and runny noses, we put up some lights on the house, picked up a Christmas tree, cleaned and refilled the pond, cleaned the bathrooms, and, at the instruction of the homeowner, spread excess nitrogen on our yard so that the nearby reservoir will stay green. Abbey marched with her band, decorated in lights, in Denver's Parade of Lights both Friday and Saturday night -- and she stayed out pretty late Saturday night after the parade.

That left me riding alone Sunday morning, which doesn't happen very often, so I thought I would ride something none of the rest of the scaq would want to ride. Something steep and rocky. Mount Falcon Park's Castle Trail, from the east side, would be that. I'd ridden this once before, back in 2012, prior to the knee surgery in which my friendly surgeon destroyed the underside of my left patella. Whether the Castle Trail is a tough ride or not depends on your perspective, and whether you're an ordinary human, but it climbs a solid 1600 feet in a little over two miles on a rather rocky trail. It's a good ride, a solid work out. Once up top, I head to the other side of the park and did a loop around the Parmalee Gulch trail, which drops steeply and then climbs back up a few hundred feet. It was on the ascent from Parmalee Gulch where I started feeling patella pain again. Since we don't usually ride trails that are quite this intense, and we haven't been riding as frequently this fall, it might have been a little much. And I'm not very good at taking it easy.

On the way up the Castle Trail, there are some nice views of Denver and the surrounding foothills.

It was short ride, only about 12 miles, so I was off the trail before noon. If my knee holds, perhaps I'll do it with Quinn in another year or two.

The Imperial Armada

I thought I'd write a quick note about our 2004 Nissan Armada, pictures of which have made it into a couple of our recent blog posts. The short story is that our 2008 Nissan Frontier was a great truck, but didn't provide the passenger space we needed on many trips. The Frontier worked when the kids were smaller and there were only the four of us, but the kids are not small anymore, and we often want or need to transport more than just five. We were reluctant to go to a gargantuan SUV because of the higher cost of the vehicle and the poor gas mileage, but our options were limited. We could possibly have gone with a minivan -- that worked for us for several years -- but we also wanted the four wheel drive and extra ground clearance. The Armada seats up to eight passengers, and while the gas mileage is impressively low, it's actually only slightly worse than that of the Frontier. As for the cost, we found this 2004 Armada with less than 80,000 miles, fewer than we had on the Frontier, and since it was older, the cost seemed reasonable. So we did it, for better or for worse. We call it the Armageddon, and sing The Imperial March (Darth Vader's Theme) when we start the engine.

We plan to acquire a hitch-mounted bike rack to use on the Armada, rather than putting the bikes on top as we've been doing on our vehicles for the last 15 years. That will leave room on the top for a big cargo box. We will also put our two tandem racks up top, one on each side, even though it's been a while since we went anywhere with the tandems. That arrangement will allow us to carry four single bikes and two tandems, or six single bikes. We hope it will provide us enough space to go mountain biking and camping with six people. And a dog. It might, if we we're careful.

There are a couple of interesting stories about the Armada. Note that in the first picture below, which is from our ride the day after Halloween, the roof rails were different from the rails in the lower picture, which was taken today. Those half racks that came on the 2004 - 2007 Armadas are less than ideal - too much span front to rear if you use the singe bar up front, and too little if you don't -- so I replaced our half rack with a full rack I found on a salvaged 2009 Armada. It seemed like it would be a straightforward swap; I had read that the mounting holes were the same on the old and new racks -- so just pull the bolts, remove the old rack, and bolt on the new.

It wasn't quite that simple. In fact, it was quite a process. Some of the bolts on the old rack came out, and some just spun in place when I turned them with a wrench. It turns out that half of the rack mounting nuts on the Armada are rivet-style nuts; inserted from above and then sqeezed so they are mushroomed out like a rivet. Most of these had loosened and just spun in place with the bolts, so the bolts would not come out. We had to drill out four of the bolts to remove the old rack. That worked, and the rack was off. Next we had to drill out the original rivet nuts, and replace them with new ones. That actually worked pretty well. I used a little epoxy with the new nuts so that when they mushroomed into place, the epoxy would seal the hole and I hope will keep them from spinning if I ever need to remove the rack. After all that, the 2009 rack bolted in just like was supposed to. I'm pleased with how it worked in the end. It feels very solid.

Here's the stupid half rack:

Here's the full rack from the 2009 Armada on our 2004 Armada, below. In this picture, I have temporarily mounted a couple of our bike trays to the factory cross bars so that Quinn and I could get out and ride today. That won't be the permanent setup.

One last story. Another issue that had come up was that the rear liftgate strike plate kept coming loose, allowing the liftgate to rattle. The strike plate is the little bar and mounting plate that the liftgate latches to so that it stays closed and doesn't rattle. I don't recall when I first noticed that the plate was loose, but right before our Thanksgiving trip to GJ, I noted the plate had loosened again, so I tightened the two bolts with a big flat-bladed screwdriver. Noting that the bolts didn't seat properly in the tapered holes of the plate, I began to think that something was amiss. When we got to GJ, the stupid thing was loose again. So Chris and I looked at it, and might have pulled it clear off, but one of the bolts was stuck. So we stopped at that point and dripped some threadlock down the bolts and tightened them again, hoping that would get us home. When we got to Vail that afternoon, the bolts were loose again. I just hoped the liftgate would stay closed for the rest of the drive home!

Saturday morning I pulled one of the bolts, the one that wasn't stuck, clear out. To my surprise, the nut that was holding the bolt was a not a nut, but an ordinary 3/16" dry-wall anchor! The sort that is made with a little mini nut and two expanding, spring-loaded wings. In addition, the holes in the frame had been cut wider with a saw to make enough room to insert the drywall anchors. This was a completely stupid attempt at a solution. It was nowhere near strong enough for the task of holding the liftgate closed, and the cutting could have caused even more problems! Eventually, I got the second bolt unstuck (by breaking the stripped-out drywall anchor) and removed the strike plate entirely. Down inside the body, inside the closed frame box, I could see the original strike plate backing plate with two large nuts welded to it (along with bits and pieces of broken drywall anchors).

So I ran out to Lowe's and picked up some correctly sized 8mm machine bolts, with a tapered head to match the tapered holes in the strike plate. Easy enough. I used a magnet on a stick to raise the backing plate from down inside the frame, and with a bit of trial and error, eventually got the bolts threaded into the original backing plate. I also added a little bit of rubber from an old inner tube to the metal sandwich to help keep the strike plate from sliding. It feels quite solid now, and I don't think the previous owner's cutting to widen the original holes will cause any problems. It stayed in place and tight during today's trip to Monument, so I think I've solved the problem. I'm still rather dumbfounded by the use of drywall anchors and a hacksaw. It was so easy to do it right.  

Monument

Sunday, 30 November 2014. The last day of Thanksgiving break. On Saturday, the day before, the high temperature here was about 65 degrees F. Nice. We knew that Sunday was going be a good 20 degrees colder, but Quinn and I thought we'd take the opportunity to get in one more ride. It might be the last trail ride of the year.

In the morning while were eating breakfast, Sharon mentioned that we'd better start riding soon because there was front coming through around noon. The weather apps on our phones said otherwise: the front wouldn't be here in until evening. Foolishly, we ignored the conflicting information and packed up the bikes, along with not nearly enough cold weather gear, and headed for Heil Valley Ranch, which is a little north of Boulder. It was nearly 40 degrees when we left home, but about 15 minutes into our drive, as downtown Denver came into view, we could see a thick, low cloud approaching. At the same time, the wind picked up from the north, and the temperature dropped quickly from the 40s to the 20s. Sharon's forecast was right; ours was not. We turned around and headed home.

Frustrated and disappointed, I was reluctant to give up. Could we find somewhere that wasn't cold yet? It was still warm to the south, so we gathered up gloves and warmer layers, replaced shorts with tights, and headed to Monument, which is maybe 40 miles south; a few miles north of the Air Force Academy. For future reference, we followed ride 23 in our Mountain Biking Colorado Springs guidebook. I still haven't found my GPS unit.

We parked at the Nursery Road trailhead. It was 55 degrees and now we were overdressed. Nonetheless with the front on its way, we packed extra warm clothes with us as we set off on the ride. We followed the trail aroud the north side of the "the maze," which is an area that apparently has a confusing network of unmarked trails. We figured if we stuck to the side, we could get through without getting lost.

After a mile or so, we came to the monument that gives Monument its name. It's a big rock, seemingly plopped down in the middle of a field.

We followed another mile or so if nice smooth singletrack until we reached a road. Up to this point, the singletrack had been smooth and easy. Fun for just about anyone. The next bit of our ride was to follow a smooth gravel road for another three miles up, and eventually return on downhill singletrack. Three miles of uphill gravel road was just about Quinn's limit. He was getting irritated and frustrated by the time we reached the trail. So we stopped for a snack. We were sweating from our uphill climb, but the temperature was starting to drop. A snack always helps.

This is where the trail takes off from the road. It appeared that if we continued on the road, we'd be getting into more snow.

The trail dropped fast, with lots of rocks, loose gravel, and snow. It was tricky, crazy, fun. We found ourselves in a narrow canyon with steep walls far above an icy creek.

There were footprints, but no tire tracks in the snow. It was apparent that this trail receives little use, relative to many of those we ride here in Colorado.

The return ride was tough. We had burned most of our downhill early with that steep descent. After that we followed a couple miles of really rough, rocky trail, that was probably mostly downhill, but was dominated by constant ups and downs. It was hard, but I think we both loved it. I'm amazed at Quinn's rock-crawling capabilities.

Eventually we got out in the open, the rocks got smaller, and the trail flowed nicely for some more relaxing fun. The sun was slipping behind Mount Herman.

We found the monument again and followed a similar route around the maze. When we returned to the trailhead at about 3:30 p.m., the temperature had dropped to 36 degrees. Our total ride time was around 3 hours and 30 minutes, our distance around 9 miles.

Thanksgiving in Grand Junction

We spent Thanksgiving in Grand Junction with Heather, Chris, and Cailan. We drove from our side of mountains to theirs on Wednesday, setting a record slow travel time of 6 hours and 30-something minutes. It seemed that everyone was leaving Denver that day. I was concerned that H&C would not have enough turkey. We didn't get to GJ much before sunset, so we spent a little time in the park across the street, ate some burritos, watched Edward Scissorhands, and went to bed.

The next morning, we eased into Thanksgiving Day in H&C's kitchen, sipping coffee and waiting for the sun. Once we had that, we made a short drive to the Palisade Rim trail to stretch our legs, our kids, and our dogs. It was a nice trail. I enjoy a rim trail that has minimal frightening exposure.

Surprisingly, we were not the first people to follow the rim into this valley. It appeared that the previous visitors had tallied their kills on the rocks.

A beautiful view, with Grand Junction in the background.

And I-70 snaking through the valley below.

After our hike, we went back to H&C's for a Thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat. Sharon had traveled with us, and Bobbie came over for dinner, so they had a full house. Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet potatoes, green beans, and rolls with pumpkin pie and apple pie for desert. It was pretty much the traditional fare, and quite delicious. We went to bed early.

We had to pack a lot into the Friday after Thanksgiving, but most importantly we wanted to get in a little more desert trail time. Leaving the dogs at home, we piled into our Armada (wanted to try it with seven people) and headed for the Devil's Kitchen in the Colorado Monument, hoping for another Thanksgiving dinner and maybe a desert dessert, prepared by the Devil himself. But he was nowhere to be found.

It's a short hike up the trail to some nice scrambling in his kitchen. That's Cailan in the red jacket, dwarfed by the Devil's boulders.

Yes, it looks like Abbey and Quinn are hugging, but they were actually trying to squeeze really hard and see whose lungs would pop out first.

Quinn is also dwarfed by the Devil's boulders.

Abbey focuses on friction.

We spent a few hours exploring the sandstone kitchen and climbing around on the nearby rock formations, and eventually headed back to H&C's for a quick pizza lunch before packing up and driving to Vail, where Abbey's boy's family has a condo. They served us a nice pasta dinner, and then we spent a couple hours hanging around talking, embarrassing our children, before we headed for home. Abbey stayed with them in Vail for the rest of the weekend.

The Ride The Day After Halloween, Including Little Scraggy Trail

After eating 17 buckets of Halloween candy, Quinn and I set off on a Saturday morning boys-only ride. The girls had other Saturday plans. Pull out your Buffalo Creek map. We rode up the road along Buff Creek to Shingle Mill Trail, over to the Colorado Trail and back to the Little Scraggy Trailhead. Then we took the new Little Scraggy Trail south-ish to the Kelsey Campground, back to the Little Scraggy Trailhead, down Nice Kitty (which we often call Hello Kitty) to the road and parking area. Sorry, still can't find the GPS unit. But the total distance was 26 miles. Pretty good for an old man and a little boy.

We parked our big black battleship at the Buff Creek Area trailhead. Unlike Thursday and Friday mornings, there were 17,000 cars at the trailhead. We joined and made it 17,001, although ours was the biggest. That is our (not so) new 10-year old going-to-the-mountains-with-a-bunch-of-people-and-bikes truck. Of course there were only two of us today, so maybe it is just a big black bad idea. It wouldn't be my first.

Most of the pictures below are from the Little Scraggy Trail, which was just completed this year. Many thanks to those who constructed it and those who permitted its construction. We hope to help out with the completion of the next segment. Little Scraggy is quite a bit more technical (rocky and boulderous) than most of the other Buff Creek trails. There are quite a few spots with alternate routes, giving the rider the opportunity to choose a more or less technical option.

I would like to have taken more pictures, but we were trying to move quickly so we wouldn't be gone all day. The slab below is pretty cool. It's big, steep, granite that's super grippy, so it's not too difficult to ascend once you're on it, but there's a tricky step-up at the bottom.

Normally, I think Quinn could easily get onto the slab, but we were about 15 miles into our third successive day of riding, and he was getting pretty tired. He nearly went over backwards in the attempt.

Quinn snapped this rare picture of the awesome author, and the "s" in "scaqabout."

Quinn got this one, and climbed to the top.

Coming down on Nice Kitty is just amazing. Almost continual downhill, on fabulous flowing singletrack through a surreal landscape of boulders, grasses, and burnt timber. And we know there's a big cat hiding somewhere out there and watching.

Quinn says someday he's going to bite that tongue right off.

The Ride on Halloween

We recently learned about the newly completed North Fork Trail, which heads down and southeast out of Reynolds Park, one of the Jefferson County Open Space parks. It's located just a little to the east of the Buffalo Creek Recreation Area. Since it was an out-and-back ride, we wanted to be sure to start from the bottom of the trail so we could ride up first and then return going down (possibly the mountain biking Prime Directive). The trail head is a little off the beaten path, so rather than follow our usual paved route out Highway 285 towards Buffalo Creek, we took the road much less traveled: Highway 67, which included a long winding drive over steep, unpaved back roads.

The trail was nice. Freshly machine-cut into the side of the mountain, and painstakingly worked by hand into a wide smooth tread. Lot's of labor went into this. One could easily ride a cyclo-cross style bike on it (but, why would you want to do that?). The only obstacles were the occasional unconsolidated stretches of trail where horse hooves had sunken several inches into unconsolidated soil. The scenery was nice. It was quiet and remote. The ride uphill was pleasant, if a little slow. We rode about 8 miles up to Reynolds Park. The ride down was quick, but not especially exciting, as mountain bike rides go.

Haven't tried to figure out what this peak is, but we usually see it from the other side.

Some of that smooth trail, with some interesting smooth granite faces in the background.

The North Fork Trail coming up the valley.

Obnoxious boy on a bike.

Looking out over Reynolds Park. From here the trail drops quickly into the park, so we called it "the end" and turned around.

  
Happy Halloween.

The Ride Before Halloween

Back-to-school chaos. Math homework. Language Arts and World History. Marching band. As usual at this time of year, lots of important stuff has been going on in our real world, so our outdoor adventures have been less frequent. But the state marching band finals were last weekend, so marching band is over, and this week Cindy and the kids have been on fall break. I couldn't really take the whole week off, but managed to get free for a couple days. No Moab trip this fall, but we got in some really nice Buffalo Creek rides.

On October 30th we rode our "usual" Buffalo Creek Recreation Area route: Up the dirt road to Mount Baldy Trail, over Mount Baldy Trail to Miller's Road, or whatever it's called, and then down Charlie's Cutoff to Homestead to Sandy Wash. It's about 15 miles total, and I would do it every day if I could.  

Yellow Aspens in Crested Butte

It takes more than four hours to get from our place to Crested Butte, so it's not something we do often. In fact, we hadn't been since 2010. But Abbey has a friend whose family has a house in Crested Butte, and somehow we managed to get ourselves invited to spend a three-day weekend with them. We lucked out and had a couple of days of great weather and cycling. This was last Friday and Saturday, the 19th and 20th of September.

I've lost my Garmin 400! I used it on our Monarch Crest Trail ride, and downloaded the data while sitting at our kitchen table. That was apparently the last time anybody saw it. So no more Garmin logs on our trips unless we can find it.

We drove out on Friday morning, arriving around noon, and wasted no time pulling down the bikes and hitting the trail. It was a short distance to some of the resort trails, so we rode up Prospector, Painter Boy, and Primer trails to the top where the bike lifts drop off riders, and then down Upper and Lower Westside trails back to the park.

Getting out of the car and immediately pedaling up Prospector wasn't easy. Look closely and you can see Cindy and Quinn working their way up the switchbacks below.

Coming down Westside was nice, once we were out of the rocks and into the meadow.

This was crazy. Our friends have this old Scrambler in their garage. It's been completely disassembled and rebuilt with a modern fuel-injected engine and newer drivetrain. It's the engine and drivetrain from a Chevy Suburban under a Jeep frame and body. Most importantly, with three rows of seats, it can carry six people and six bikes. That's Quinn's bike strapped on top of the roll cage. 

A view from the inside, with Quinn's bike on top.

We used the Jeep to shuttle part way up the road to the pass where the 401 trail takes off.

From the pass, the initial climb up the 401 was tough. At the top, there was a large congregation of cyclists. Some of them were really annoying.

Outstanding views down the valley from the 401.

It was hot. This is Abbey's "I'm hot and tired" look.

Once we had finished on the trail, our shuttle driver rode up to get his jeep, while the rest of rode back to the house. The Aspens were ridiculous.

Mount Gothic.

After eating a quick lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at the house, we split up for the rest of the afternoon. Q and I rode Lupine trail, which starts a little down the road from the resort, and traverses westward down the valley wall north of the town of Crested Butte. It' a newer trail, well-designed, fairly easy, fast and fun.

Lupine left us up the valley from town, so we caught the Upper Lower Loop trail back to town, where we met our girls, picked up some groceries, and headed back to the house. We had logged 28 miles that day, none of them flat, although more of them down than up.