Labor Day picnic ride on the High Line Canal trail

View from the Big Dummy.

I'm not ready to acquiesce to the common perception that Labor Day is the end of Summer. It just doesn't feel like it. For the past week or more, the temperatures have been in the 80s and 90s, and look to maintain at roughly that level for some time. Besides, the calendar says it's still Summer until September 22, and I'm sticking with that date.

Regardless of my peculiarities with acceptance of seasonal change, the rest of the family seemed ready for a ride. With the day off from work and school, we assembled the necessary items to have a nice ride to a favorite picnic spot. While I was packing the cooler, filling water bottles, and checking tire inflation, Julie made sure that the baby's fuel tank was topped off. Lil Sis has recently taken up the big girl pursuit of eating food. On the menu today was a first experience with carrots, followed by sweet potatoes, the old standby of her food eating career, which now spans a little more than a week.

The only problem she has with eating is when the spoonfuls don't arrive quickly enough.

Once we were loaded and fueled, we hit the trail. We selected the High Line Canal trail as the focal point of the day. The High Line Canal trail system meanders about 66 miles throughout the Denver Metro area, beginning at the outlet of Waterton Canyon, where just a couple of days ago Nicholas and Lael entered the Colorado Trail. The High Line Canal system is one of the best easy recreational features of the region, and has a long history in the development of Denver and surrounding communities.

The canal and a parallel maintenance trail were originally built in 1883 for the purpose of agricultural irrigation. As agriculture gave way to urban development in the modern era, the canal is only intermittently filled with water, but the trail has become the premier non-paved trail system in the metropolitan area. Because the trail runs parallel to the canal, any changes in elevation are very slight. The trail only occasionally intersects with streets with motorized traffic, and often underpasses have been constructed to facilitate crossing major roads. Parks and recreational facilities are located throughout much of its length. Additionally, the High Line Canal has long supported more vegetation than ordinarily occurs in our semi-arid region, meaning that much of the trail is shaded by Cottonwood and various other trees lining its course. All of these features make the High Line Canal trail an excellent choice for recreational family riding.

Our little bike convoy cruising along the High Line Canal trail.

Shady parking for the trail train.

Hungry riders chowing down, while an alert dog makes sure nothing goes to waste.

Most of Denver and its suburbs have views of the mountains of the Front Range. Though peaks and forests may appear to be crystal clear and not too distant, for us, the mountains and even the foothills are just too far away to be readily accessible without hopping in a car. Little verdant oases like those sprinkled along the High Line Canal trail and elsewhere within our part of the metro area are easily accessible by bike, and allow us to feel as though we got away from the city, at least for a little while.

Our first objective was lunch, and as I was carrying the bulk of the food, I was more than happy to redistribute it to everyone else. After putting a big dent in the food, we spent some time looking at crayfish and other aquatic life while cooling off near a section of Big Dry Creek. During the heat of the day, finding a little bit of water for cooling off makes a ride just that much more fun. Both human and canine components of our group took advantage.

Darting little fish hide in the shady outcroppings along the banks of Big Dry Creek.

For a cattle dog mix, presumably with an ancestry in parched, landlocked environs, Scout sure seems to enjoy being in water.

Smiling in a snazzy bike outfit, thanks to the ever stylish Fixed Gal.

There were plenty of people out on the trails today, many of them riding bikes. From an informal accounting, the majority of bikes seen were mountain bikes of multiple vintage, but a wide range of other variants were represented. Single-speed cruisers, skinny-tired road bikes, and recumbent trikes, all plied the unpaved trail.

However, our bikes, loaded with kids and equipment, a sizable cooler, various picnic paraphernalia, and a dog pacing alongside, still deviated noticeably from the norm. After four years, the Big Dummy still draws about as many looks and questions as it did when it was new. Julie's Breezer Villager is now more than 7 years old, and remains her favorite bike of all time. It has a comfortable upright riding style that is perfect for her purposes, and has required remarkably low maintenance. It's just about the perfect Mommy bike.

The Surly Big Dummy continues to be a do-it-all family truckster of a bike.

The Breezer Villager carrying its share of the load.

As we took our time, alternately riding and stopping to check out playground equipment, we started to get hot. At some point, some of us began to accurately predict when "rain" might selectively shower individuals in our group. Of course, the source of these showers was quickly found to be errant streams from water bottles, arched just right to drench unsuspecting riders. This degenerated into an all out soaking of everyone involved, with some protest but little complaint.

Just prior to a full-scale escalation into a water fight.

Scout knows that at the end of every ride...

... a welcome dip in her water tub is awaiting.

So, that was the bulk of our Labor Day. Just remember, Summer is not over. Here's to its continuation for at least the next 19 days.

Our girls, little and big. Ages 6 months and 7 years, respectively.

Lest the occasion slip by unnoticed, welcome to the double 20-year old club, Jennie. Drinks are on me, next time you're around.

Launching pad for Colorado Trail adventurers

On the Platte River Trail heading toward the trailhead for the Colorado Trail in Waterton Canyon.

I've long enjoyed reading first-hand accounts of travel and adventure, often undertaken by committed individuals testing their mettle by venturing into unfamiliar territory. Among my favorites is Harry A. Franck's A Vagabond Journey Around the World (available as a free ebook here). The book was published in 1910, and features a young man recounting his experiences of alternately working and traveling on a quest to circumnavigate the globe. It should therefore be no surprise that several blogs that I gravitate toward reading are written by self-supported adventurers of various stripes.

For the past couple of days we hosted a couple of the figurative descendants of Harry Franck. Nicholas and Lael of gypsy by trade are in the midst of a quest of similar magnitude, even if their goal is different. Our part in their story was to provide the staging area for their final preparations for a venture onto the Colorado Trail.

Originally, I became aware of Nicholas' travels through Bike wRider, the Alaskan iteration of a Big Dummy Daddy, and I've been following his exploits through his blog entries for a while now. When I observed from afar his embarkation from Anchorage, Alaska in June, I had no idea that I'd eventually meet up with him, as I did a week or so ago. (BTW, the next Surly Owner's Society (S.O.S.) is soon, details here.)

By his reckoning, Nicholas has ridden about 5,000 miles since leaving Anchorage. That works out to roughly 55 miles a day, every day for three months. Keep in mind, he's ridden mostly off-road or on gravel roads for much of the way, on a loaded fatbike weighing 70+ pounds. Across some sections of Montana and Wyoming, he managed 75 or more miles a day. He's climbed and descended innumerable passes, and braved the heat and hardships of vast open expanses. Needless to say, the guy is a powerhouse; his build is reminiscent of images of the burly-yet-sinewy riders from the early days of the Tour de France, back when it was an actual tour on dirt roads and mountain passes. All he's missing is the handlebar mustache.

Nicholas' girlfriend Lael recently returned from a bike touring, organic farming and yoga filled trip to Europe, centered on visits to France and Corsica. She met back up with Nicholas in Colorado to join him on the Colorado Trail. One small logistical issue was that when she arrived, she didn't have a bike suited for mountain riding. However, Nicholas had been busily assembling a steel 29er for her, using Craigslist and community bike shops to spice it up with just the right mix of equipment to make it trail worthy.

Nicholas and his MacBook Air blogging machine.

Stamps on Nick's outgoing mail appear to suggest bicycling is forever.

Lael's bike is a small framed Raleigh XXIX 29er mountain bike, which, until very recently, was a single speed. It now sports a rear gear cluster and a snazzy gold On-One Mary handlebar. Details of the build are here. A frame builder in Fort Collins grafted on some bottle cage mounts on the underside of the down tube for extra water capacity, and various bikepacking bags hold other necessities. Overall, it's a great looking, highly capable trail rig. The bike had its shakedown cruise from Fort Collins to our house via Boulder. According to Lael, she's doubly excited at the prospect of this, her first mountain bike, as well as being her first bike equipped with a suspension fork.

Lael's Raleigh XXIX 29er. Note the folded spare tire tucked under the down tube.

A svelte, lean trail machine, much like its rider.

Nicholas' bike is a first generation 18-inch Surly Pugsley, in its original grape Kool-aid purple color. The bike is an obvious trail veteran, highly integrated with a challenge-proven and well-honed kit of baggage and parts. Seeing elements of a bike that have been modified through a co-evolution with its rider speaks volumes. As I have a thing for home-built fenders, of particular aesthetic appeal for me are the bike's fenders, hand-made by Nicholas out of coroplast political yard signs. A typically xenophobic tea party message on the front fender exhorts voters to "take America back," however, from whom it should be taken is not quite clear. Nicholas has shown himself to be a master of karmic jujitsu in appropriating the yard sign and the message, claiming large swaths of the country as his own, a mile at a time.

Nicholas' classic purple Pugsley carrying a full trail load.

A gleaming, highly polished rear rotor alludes to seasoned experience in descending mountain passes with a heavy load. 

A Pugsley fork with narrow (100mm O.L.D.) dropouts allows for a generator hub. Check out that big 203mm rotor.

I greatly appreciate creatively repurposed stuff, and Nick's tea party coroplast fenders are things of beauty. The bottle carries denatured alcohol to fuel a home-built beer can stove.

On Friday morning, Lael and Nicholas accompanied us on our ride to school. A spunky kid, our girl chatted profusely about their bikes, where they had come from, where they were going, things they liked or didn't like, and mountain biking in general. Later, she told me that she was quite impressed that someone could ride all the way across the country, camping out every day. "Does that mean s'mores every night?" she asked me. "Why not?" I replied.

Our little mountain bike ballerina says goodbye on the way to dance class.

On their way out of town this morning, I escorted Nicholas and Lael to the Platte River Trail. It was fun to ride along in a little squadron of big-wheeled bikes, including another Pugsley. As appears to be the case when on a fatbike, attention abounds from anyone within the vicinity. Comments about our fat tires were issued profusely by other trail users; road bike riders in particular seem to be most surprised and inquisitive as to the purpose of big rubber.

At the top of Chatfield Dam, with Waterton Canyon in sight, we parted ways. Although they undoubtedly had the rest of the day of riding ahead of them, I knew my considerably less fit, old guy limitations and didn't want to exceed them. With loaded bikes, they wheeled away toward the mountains and adventure. All of us who stayed behind wish them luck and discovery along the trail.

Lael on the trail. Say this three times quickly.

The intrepid explorers with Chatfield Reservoir and the Waterton Canyon starting point of the Colorado Trail ahead of them.

I said goodbye and happy journey here. 

On the ride home, I took the opportunity to enjoy a rare recreational ride by myself. I ride a bike of some sort every day, but during most rides I find myself preoccupied with getting to a meeting or catching a train or being vigilant of cars around my family. As much as my life involves bicycling, I do sometimes miss riding a bike just for its own sake.

On my way home I found some gravel, which agrees with the Pugsley much more than pavement. 

Cacti with fruit.

Little conical pits near the base of a tree, presumably dug by an insect or spider.

One of the nice things about showing people around the area where we live is that I get to rediscover it through their eyes. Nicholas and Lael were genuinely impressed by the quantity and quality of trail systems in our area, which made me appreciate them all the more. Within a mile or few, there are four major trail systems and perhaps another half dozen smaller trails. In addition to that, there are many more informal trail connectors interwoven between the larger trails. It can be easy to take these trails for granted, but we truly are fortunate to have them.

A pleasant section of the Lee Gulch Trail.

An old railroad tunnel. This photo is specifically for Pat S., who rode off-road across an entire state to get a railroad tunnel fix.

Okay, so maybe the rail may not have actually gone through the tunnel, but it goes over, and has been revamped into a first-rate trail passage. 

Suburban off-road trail riding

Sporting a CamelBak and a smile.

Last week was the first week of school, but reading and math weren't the only things worthy of study. She has had been awash with confidence riding her mountain bike, so we took an afternoon to get out on the trails.

One of my biggest barriers to mountain biking in the past several years has been the time involvement, both real and perceived. Probably my biggest hangup is the time investment to load a car with bikes and gear then to drive to a trailhead. However, since serving as sensei to a budding mountain biking grasshopper, I've become attuned to seeking out off-road opportunities in urbana situ, reducing time requirements for preparation.

Cruising some open singletrack.

We fortuitously live in an area with a quite a few off-road trails of various types. Most are not particularly technical or demanding, but can be a lot of fun regardless. With a little imagination, it's possible to link together several informally developed segments of double and singletrack via more officially sanctioned sections of trail surfaced with crusher fines.

Although there are not tremendous opportunities for long downhill runs, we have been working on some skills that will eventually be useful for descending. Big Sis soaks up new challenges, and has recently had fun mastering the skill of getting behind her seat to shift weight balance over the rear wheel. This is a position to allow for safe and controlled descent down slopes. She's a good climber and seems to enjoy topping hills, so developing the skills to go back down is naturally in the cards.

Showing the people how it's done.

We had a great time poking around the trails, and will continue to do so. The experiences of seeking out places to develop mountain biking skills is reminiscent of the way I rode a bike as a kid; just exploring the outdoors and having fun. There's no competition other than the occasional friendly sprint, and we stop to look at flowers or to get snacks whenever we feel like it. It's all been a valuable reminder that in biking, as well as life in general, the journey is the destination.

Nick the Gypsy

Just in from Fort Collins to a typically small-scale meeting of the Denver Surly Owner's Society (S.O.S.).

This past Wednesday, I met up with Nick, otherwise known as Gypsy by Trade, an adventurous young guy who has ridden his Surly Pugsley all the way from Anchorage, Alaska, a good chunk of which was along the Continental Divide trail. Nick has been alternately riding vast sections of the world, largely offroad, and working intermittently to fund his adventures for the past four years. I like to think that if I were his age and similarly unconnected to obligations such as parenthood and a mortgage, I'd be doing something along the same lines. In any case, his travels are inspiring, and I vicariously tag along when he checks in from the trail.

Nick's loaded rig is in the 75 pound weight range, but you wouldn't know it by the way he makes those fat tires move. Phil of Denver B-cycle leads the way. 

Tracy, the illustrious organizer of the S.O.S. brings up the rear.

I opted for my befendered Surly Cross Check, as a menacing sky seemed to indicate rain in the near future.

A small group of Surly owners had some beer and shot the breeze with Nick on his way through town. We then took a ride up into the Highlands to the new location of Salvagetti, where a benefit party for Mountain2Mountain was in progress. The new shop space is really nice, and there is a lot of room for the shop to continue its role as a community gathering spot for bicyclists.

Scott of Salvagetti and Nick talking about bikes 'n' stuff.

Justin Simoni's CDT conquering single speed Kona on display at Salvagetti.

On my way home, I took advantage of a nice cool evening with slight occasional sprinkles to enjoy my trip home. I don't often ride in the Highlands and am rarely downtown at night. My effort was rewarded with seeing a glimpse of the urban nightlife, much of it seemingly enjoyed by others on bikes.

Little Man Ice Cream is a popular destination.

The Highlands Bridge is teeming with activity, even after the late-for-me-to-be-out time of 10PM.

Nick is spending a bit of time in Fort Collins getting ready for the next segment of his quest, riding the Colorado Trail starting in Waterton Canyon just South of Denver. He's in the midst of setting up a 29er trail machine for his girlfriend Lael, who will be his traveling partner for the route. Best of luck to you both, and stop in any time you're in the area.

First day of 2nd Grade

Ready to go.

 Today was the first day of school for 2012-2013. We were ready to go bright and early and had a nice ride. Here's to another great year!

Cruising on the trail in perfect color coordination.

We were the first bikers to arrive, but a couple more showed up. This is the only bike rack at a school of ~400 kids.