44303 - Evil M and work

M flies over for a week of work. Well my current occupation, climbing, hiking, scrambling, camping. That kind of work. Its good to see him again.

Petit Grepon, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
We are dragging heavy packs up the mountain. As the map indicates only 3 miles, the reality is 6 miles and we are struggling more then anticipated. Just before dark we crash down on some rocks and define it our bivy side.

Some call him evil M, but I think with afternoon thunderstorms, this time it makes sense to wake up very early. Petit Grepon with 8 pitches of 5.7 is waiting.

While its only easy climbing, we both have a hard time. Me with the chossy rock, M with the altitude, 3900 meter at the top.

The views are amazing though, the rap challenging, with a stuck rope (thanks you R), a missed rap station and thunder clouds looming above.

That night we move into a cave while the rain is pouring down on us. Another good night of sleep for me, another bad night of sleep for M.

Decision made, the Diamond is off the plan, that will be to much. We hike out instead.


Mount Neva, Thursday
M wakes me up early again. This time we have to drive in and scramble up Mount Neva. 3900 meters high and a class 3-4 scramble to the top. We start hiking through amazing wild flowers.

We climb above the tree line towards the ridge.

Which is amazing scrambling.

With pretty exposed moves here and there.

Its awesome.

Almost at the top.

Before plunging down into the valley.

Were we decide to follow the valley instead of the route, which curves back to the trail.

We just follow the river down.

And can't get enough of taking pictures of the amazing wild flowers.

Back on the trail we don't make better time either. Soaked to the bone we arrive at the car.

For sure one of the best hikes ever...

Mount Torrey and Mount Gray, Friday
M wakes me up in the middle of a dream again at 6:00 and when I fall back to sleep he taps more vigorously on my window. This becomes a little evil. Today Torrey and Gray peak are scheduled. Both part of the 14th thousand feet list and both very popular. Its just a normal Friday morning, but when we arrive at 7:00 at the trail head, I slide Oto in the last available parking spot. At least 75 people are ahead of us. This Colorado fitness is getting real challenging.

The route goes over a class 3 scramble ridge up to Torrey peak, 4349 meter.

Its a bit loose, but with people all over the rock, as a climber you can't get defeated easily. And soon we find ourselves on top.

Its down to the saddle.

And up to Gray peak, 4348 meter.

We get back before the afternoon storms roll in. In Colorado words: Not bad for a morning hike.


Its 6:00 again. Okey this is evil. I drop M back on the plane, and sleep 4 more hours at home. Its not the early starts that bothers me, its the only 6 hrs of sleep every night, I need 8! Its also pretty tiring such a work week, running behind M to keep up. Luckily I am in shape at the moment and acclimated at 3000 meter for a while now. Otherwise this blog would have called him eM through out.

Dag,
   Iris (Boulder, 44303 miles)

42521 - Perfect bluegrass again

I wake up alone in an hotel room in Ridgway. Thats my life. I can't say that I haven't been running away from some men, but I can't say either that there haven't been some men running away from me. It doesn't make it easier that I am attracted to these solitary, introvert men, but it seems the only way to keep my own freedom inside a relation. Please go climb a mountain, hunt an animal, raft a river, kayak an ocean, so I can go ride my bike, climb a rock, travel the world.

There is one exception though. Somebody who doesn't run away, somebody I won't run away from. Somebody I can look dreamily in the eyes, somebody who plays music just for me. It may help that there is a girlfriend, an age difference, and a very good communication that things are so easy. Jeh, I meet up with J again.

Its 10:00 and I still don't hear any sound in the room besides me. Yesterday after J's band Bearfoot played the Pickin' in the Park in Ridgway, we all went to a local bar for some more music. After a couple of beers the band joined the already performing band on stage. The sound was crappy but the vibe made up for it. When there were more people performing then dancing, the doors of the bar closed, but the music continued. And I continued dancing with the locals until deep into the night. J had changed to unplugged and was still playing, when I walked tired to my hotel room (from another band member), under the early morning stars.

Its 11:00 when J burst into my room to give me a hug and drags me to breakfast with the rest. The afternoon we spend in the outdoors. Thats something you can't beat out of us, tired or not, the outdoors is always good. We join O (the lead singer from California) to the Blue lakes high up in the Sneffels Wilderness.

J takes me out for dinner in the evening in Ouray. I love these moments talking with him. Its so freely and open. We cross the street to a local bar, for what I love him even more for.

Having been here before and connected, some of the locals drove over to see the band perform in Ridgway. And now J is thanking them, with some free picking on the terrasse. O and another band member and some locals join and the community is gathering around. The atmosphere is so relax, the beer so good, the music so beautiful, this is an evening to remember for ever.

With his talent to express his emotions through his instrument, with his social outreach to the community, with his charming dinner, it doesn't sound like a man to my heart. But J is from Alaska, and thats where the men are real men (and the woman too). And when we California girls only dip in for 5 seconds in the snow fed Blue lake, J goes for a swim.

That was perfect again. Love you.

Dag,
   Iris (Ridgway, 42521 miles)

42389 - Mountain biking, me?

I met B while bike trekking, and now that we meet again in one of the meccas of mountain biking, Crested Butte, there is only one thing to do, biking. Me however, is commuter biker, road biker and trekking biker, that mountain biking is not really my thing.

Here in Colorado however it seems that everybody mountain bikes and the standards are high. W showed me how to descend some stairs, H emailed: The ride was pretty crazy - 88 miles over 10,000ft of climbing - 13 hours in the saddle. Oh and if you think thats not to bad, she did it on a single speed!!!!

My luck, B just paced somebody for 60 miles in the Hardrock 100 mile Endurance Run (a 100-mile run with 10.000 meter of climb and a high point of 4300 meter), and doesn't mind to take it easy for a couple of days. Yes, being in shape in Colorado has its own standard.

I look at my bike and smilingly see a trekking bike. Its a mind set I have learned in Alaska. "You do it with the equipment you have, and don't forget to enjoy." A ridged frame and semi-slick tires (I rent a helmet), if thats what it is, than thats what I will use. On the other hand, we can do something about my mountain bike skills. And with B as a very patient teacher I learn lots. Weight to the back and using my front brake more when descending, keep peddling and keep my weight in the front but still on the seat uphill, let my bike finds its way on the flats, enjoy the booming wild flowers when walking. Its so nice when the learning curve is still steep.

For 4 days we bike around, watch a Tour de France stage at some friends house, cook healthy, talk about life and books, drink liters of coffee, listen to the music in the park, enjoy the beautiful surrounding and bike even more.

B, thanks for the wonderful days, you succeeded. I really start liking mountain biking. Maybe I should sell my fixie and buy a good mountainbike?

Dag,
   Iris (Crested Butte, 42389 miles)

42265 - Surrounded by idiots

Yes, I am surrounded by idiots. And I am talking about you, you American idiot.

You who name some games between 2 national baseball leagues, the world series. Don't you know that the world exist out of more countries then the USA, you idiot.

But indeed you don't know much about the world. You think that when I say I am Dutch, that I am from Denmark and speak Deutsch. Don't you know thats an insult to me, you idiot.

We Dutch people dislike the German people. Indeed we are not so political correct over there in the Old World, we really dislike them. And no, that has nothing to do with the war. That was before my times. It all has to do with the lost world cup soccer final in 1974. Yes indeed, I was only 2 years old and shouldn't be aware of that fact either. Except every parent in NL will imprint that national trauma in their kids (I still see you father turning white, when Germany scored).

And now we are talking about insulting me. Why do you write on my flag. Indeed you idiot, that Red/White/Blue flag is from my country and you shouldn't write on it. Oh and if you question why we are playing in Orange instead of our national colours. Well Oranje (orange) is the last name of our queen, queen Beatrix van Oranje. Indeed we have a queen and we like her, you idiot.

And did you know that my country is called the Netherlands, thats because its below sea level. Holland is just 2 provinces, which I have never lived in, you idiot, don't call it that way. Oh and you idiot, Amsterdam is not synonym for drugs, it has amazing museums too. And yes, we have legal drugs, legal prostitution, legal abortion, legal euthanasia and legal guy marriage. Oh and free health care, free education, 40hr work weeks and 7 weeks of vacation. The way it should be, you idiot.

Do you know when you ask me what I am doing today, July 11, 2010 I think you are an idiot. Do you know that the rest of the world does know what I am doing today, you idiot. Do you know that when we talk about the game today, we talk about the World cup final, and you shouldn't think: baseball?, football?, ice-hockey?, basketball? There is soccer too, you idiot.

Its good that there are some light points though. My former CEO is working from home today, well he is Dutch. My brother wishes me luck, well he is from Ukraine and grew up in Canada. My friend T sends me an email that he is wearing orange today, well he is from Alaska and thats now for sure not part of the USA. They know. Thank you.

The one I should thank the most though is H. Not American but Canadian and she knows the game from inside out. Thank you for letting me come to Salida. Thank you for watching the game with me. Thank you for arranging a quite place with a big television. Thank you for your friend, who was cheering very quietly (for Spain). Thank you for being my friend in this country full of idiots.

And you idiot, if you even care about the result of the World cup soccer final between Spain and the Netherlands. Here it is. We lost.

Its so nice to vent my emotions for once. That helps at least a little bit with the disappointment.

Dag,
   Iris (Salida, 42265 miles)

41843 - June update

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Dag,
   Iris (Chromo, 41843 miles)

41843 - The Great Divide

There were three reasons to take a bike with me:

1. As a Dutchie, you simply never travel without one.


2. The White Rim, with 30 cars and numerous supported bikers passing by every day, I opt out.


3. The Great Divide Mountain Bike Route.

Hikers have the Appalachian and Pacific Crest trails, we trekking bikers have the GDMBR, with 2465 miles from Canada to Mexico the longest off-pavement cycling route in the world. The route parallels the Continental Divide, the line where rain falling on the west side ends up in the Pacific Ocean and rain falling on the east side in the Gulf of Mexico. Having read about it years ago in a Dutch outdoor magazine, it has occupied my thoughts ever since. The most scenic part is the 320 mile stretch in Colorado, from Platoro to Silverthorn. The route here hovers between 2100 and 3600 meter and thats breath taking in several ways. Thats what I am going to ride.

I drive to Platoro, which turned out to be an isolated little village high up in the mountains with no paved access. There is another Dutch biking coupe and together we drink coffee and eat cookies. I feel so Dutch.

The next morning its time to pack my stuff, dig out my panniers, mount my front rack on the bike, change pedals, boil the last eggs, drink the last milk and at 10:00 hit the road. The first challenge is also immediately the biggest one. Indiana pass with 3630 meter the high point of my trip. The route climbs through a natural contaminated area, with all the water carrying toxic metals and abandoned mines all over. I have to ration my water intake, but still run out of it after a while.

Whoosh! What was that. Another biker with hardly any gear comes down the road. There is no time to stop, an hellooo is all I get. I have heard that the Self supporting GDMBR race is on the way and in the area. Would this be one of them? My thought are going to my left rear pannier. This morning when I finished all the food in my cooler there was one item I decided to just take. A water melon. So here I am encountering these light weight bikers, and me, I carry a heavy water melon over the highest pass on the route. I should have listen to W, who shove me a light weight backpacking know-how book under my nose last week.

At the top of the climb there is no sign but the views are immense. The whole day feels more like hiking than biking, this high up in the mountains.

On the downhill I find an amazing camping spot. Out of sight, a stone fire ring with wood, a grassy field for my tent and a magnificent view. Oh damm, I have no water. I am so used that Oto carries everything I need, that I hadn't give it a second thought. So I mount my bike again and descent more. Two more bikers with hardly any gear are coming up the road. They have time to stop and tell me that indeed they are doing the GDMBR as a race. They are talking about 100 to 160 mile days, hardly any gear and around 20 days for the whole route. They are insane! The guy I passed this morning is from French and is riding a single speed. Hmmm, insane or just fucking cool.

I continue my descend and in the early evening finally find some surface water to filter. The camp spot I choose is covered with fire ants, the views are non. My only light point in the evening, the water melon tastes very good.

The next day I do some shoppings in Del Norte before riding a trail through a barren landscape. The Rocky Mountains are still part of the Colorado Plateau and rainfall can also here be very low.

Also today I have to climb a pass, Carnero Pass with 3100 meter of altitude another hard day. This time however I take water just after the high point and can camp when ever I feel for it. It only takes me a while to hang my bags high up in a tree, for the rest its a perfect spot.

When the sun comes up, I wake up and after some coffee and pancake breakfast another long day is waiting for me. This time Cochetopa pass, 3050 meter, is on route. With more racers and more irissen around, I never feel alone and love the ride and have no worries.

Its late in the evening and again I am looking for water. The map indicates a river crossing, but when I arrive I know when cows are not my best friends.

Its goes up and down again and the road is filled with the so hated washboard.

Finally I arrive in Doyleville, 3 houses and a haystack. I knock on the most organized house and X opens. Yes, I can get some water and yes I can pitch my tent in the garden. A couple minutes later we head instead to the Taylor river for some whitewater kayaking for X and shuttling the car for me.

On the way home X gets a phone call, if we wanne catch some bluegrass music in Crested Butte. My legs are sore, I am longing for a bed, but bluegrass, sure. At the entrance of the bar I ask which band is playing. Something Turtle. My favorite bluegrass band Blue Turtle Seduction has recently stopped. This was the first bluegrass band my friend H took me, and also the last day in the Bay Area we went together to see them. Something Turtle?

I order a beer and scan the posters above the bar. Trampled by Turtles, Monday June 28. What what, this is the band V introduced me to in Alaska, and has been a favorite while driving through this country for the last year. Is it really Monday today. It is, and sore legs or not, with some beer and good music I can dance until 2 o'clock in the morning.

Well the next day I do feel it. And Marshall pass with 3300 meters in altitude is far, high and lots of suffering. From the top however its all downhill to Salida.

I drop by the bike store and H invites me to take a shower at her house. From one comes the other and I spend a rest day riding on a cruiser bike around town. Salida, is one of these secret little gems with wonderful people and lots of outdoor activities. H is an hardcore single speed mountainbiker and I like her a lot. Until late at night we talk and it feels like friends from way back then.

The road climbs steep out of Salida onto a high plain. Here and there are some second homes, but most of the area is empty, with hardly any other traffic.

The views to the west are immense. And several 4000 meter peaks are dotted along the Continental Divide.

This is when you forget the numb hands, the sore bud, the pinched nerve in your shoulder. This is why you do it for. The feel to live on top of the world.

The night I spend in the wide open. No hiding possible, but I make it another time save through the night.

The last day I continue in the wide open plains before arriving in Como.

Almost every day I had rain, hail and thunder in the early afternoon and sometimes I had to pitch up my tent again to wait out the worst. This time I drink coffee in the post office lobby with B, who is also biking around and of course knows W and H. This Colorado outdoor world is so small. When the sun is back one more last pass is waiting for me. Boreas pass, 3500 meters, but with a gradual climb not bad at all.

The other side of the pass drops me into Breckenridge, with the 4th of July weekend a place not to be. I continue on a busy bike path along a busy highway to Frisco and the same is true here. I hide myself in the woods for the night, the last 10 miles to Silverthorn are not for me.

The next day is a day I have been dragging a bit. So first I go to the local bakery for a croissant and some bread. Now I am ready to try my luck. Hitch hiking back to Oto with the bike. 5 minutes and ride one is ready to be loading my bike in the pick up truck. For the next 5 hrs, I have 4 more rides until Del Norte. And there I am sitting. Its only 30 miles, but with dirt roads and Indiana pass between me and Oto, not an option for biking. I am waiting only 30 minutes and get anxious already. Probably the effect of being a blond woman, and wiating so for for only 10 min max. Why did I start in Platoro, oh jeh right, because its at the bottom of my map. But it would have been so much wiser to start in a normal reachable village. Then M stops and has time to bring me all the way for a big fat hamburger lunch. It takes us 2 more hrs, but there he is. Oto is still waiting for me as ever and its good to be together again.

My bike and me however, thats even a better combination. Just not in this country, here Oto is favorite. But GDMBR, that was another wonderful trip. As always, life is so good.

Dag,
   Iris (Platoro, 41843 miles)