To my left, the Roaring Fork does just that. Filled beyond its banks with gritty spring snowmelt, the unbound river incessantly rumbles passed me as I run. It seems to be keeping up with my 8-9 minute a mile pace. In the fall, when I take to Rio Grande Trail from the Catherine trailhead, I can see clear to the bottom, with whispering rushes and glottal gurgles covering the rounded rocks below. But this spring, the deluge has begun, and the river rafters and kayakers couldn’t be happier.
The Rio Grande Trail has to be the best off-road paved path of substantial length in the USA. I haven’t seen them all, but I might even sell my house in Snowmass if I ever find a better place to run and bike outdoors. This trail follows the 19th century rail line of the Denver and Rio Grande, connecting the silver mines of Aspen with the mainline along the Colorado at Glenwood. Back then, land was free for the asking (just asking the government, that is), and the perfect 0.5-1.5% gradient could be followed for the entire 40 miles from the confluence of the Roaring Fork and the Colorado, at 5750 feet above sea level, to Aspen, at 7900.
The trail was finally completed last year, making it possible, by connecting with the Glenwood canyon trail, to bike for 112 miles round-trip. That just happens to be the length of the Ironman bike leg. There is literally only one mandatory stop, about half way, in Carbondale.
While almost any spot along this trail serves up scenery which people – around here at least – pay millions of dollars for, the most sublime mile heads from Rock Bottom Ranch to the Catherine Trailhead. Here, the rail-trail is tucked curvaceously between the southern ridge and the river. Brushes, Cottonwood, Aspen, and occasional sage fill the narrow space between me and the river. To the north, just west of Carbondale, is Mt. Sopris. Not high, only 12,900’, but rising in isolation 7,000’ above the Crystal Creek valley. Moving eastward, I see the shoulder ridge hiding the Sunlight ski area, and then the T shaped gorge where the Roaring Fork and Colorado meet. West from there, the river transects Hogback ridge and enters the Roan Plateau region, where gas well jockeys are replacing cowboys.
To the east, the Colorado emerges from Glenwood Canyon, where the environment, savaged though it was by the rail line of the 19 century, and the two lane highway of the early 20th, finally fought back and said, “No more!” For decades, the momentum of Interstate 70, relentless in its push from the east coast to San Francisco, butted up against the sheer beauty and ruggedness of this narrow canyon. FInally, four lanes were built, but with a speed limit of 50 mph, and basically a series of bridges holding the highway to the side of the cliff – no more blasting here!
To the west, Missouri Heights, where Last Chancers built their dream homes for peanuts 30 years ago, only to see the prices soar into 7 figures during the beastly bubble of 2004-7. And then to the south, the river makes its S turn into the upper valley, where Aspen’s riches, ski mountains and wilderness peaks lie hidden behind me.
But I see none of this, as I am more than two hours into my long run for the week. I’ve parked at the trailhead, and carried a water bottle about 4 miles up, to Hicks Road. The first two miles are in this section by the river, and are just about heaven. It’s the start of the run, going easy, with some cloud cover and a temperature of 55F. Although rain was forecast, none appears, and this Saturday morning before Memorial Day finds the trail filled with families, roadies, leisurely tourists, all beaming with their good fortune at being here, now, in this time and place. But no dogs!. This section is pet free, to protect wildlife. After the two mile river-side section, I drop down onto the gravel/dirt road connecting Rock Bottom to Hicks Rd. This avoid the cyclists, and gives ma chance to watch a working rancher as he – and his dog – cut some brush, and spread out hay for the equine stock.
I turn around just after the only real hill on this route, and head back down towards Carbondale. I’ve been going steadily up a gentle grade for 35 minutes, and the downhill speed I gather goes to my head. I pump up my heart rate from 120 to 126, and bring my pace from about 9:20 down to 8:30. It’s 7 miles into Carbondale, where I will turn back uphill (I stop to pick up a fresh water bottle at my car.)
Once past the river section, the trail heads out of the woods and onto pastureland, a straight shot into “town”. The sun peaks out now and then, and I conjure a little plan. I’ll turn around about 1/2 mile ahead of schedule, and then do my favorite river run one more time!
Of course, in order to get there, I have to go BACK UP HILL, after turning on the juice for over an hour. Poor choice of pacing there. But at least I am looking up valley, where the mountains lie, and I will get into the shade soon.
All this magic scenery, as I say, is lost on me, as I run myself slowly into exhaustion. I need to keep a bit in reserve, knowing that, tomorrow, I will be back here once again, but not to run. Rather, I intend to ride the whole trail, all 112 miles of it, for my “360-420 minute” bike ride (to be followed by a 50 minute run. I’ve chosen to flip the scheduled days, as I thought the weather might be nicer for riding on Sunday.
(To be continued)