RIDE THE ROCKIES

For those of you who are not familiar, Ride the Rockies is a bike tour whose chief sponsor is the Denver Post. It is a week-long, sometimes tortuous 450-mile bike ride through the magnificent Colorado Rocky Mountains. I was suckered into riding my first one in 1991 by John, my boss at the time. Despite my initial reservations, we had a great time and went on to do two more RTR in 1992 and 1993. Back then we were hardened studs, our ripped bodies attracting the envy of even the most rock-hard firemen in the land. We'd scoff at the 12,000 foot mountain passes, guffaw at the tightest switchback turns and eat up the road with a fervor that only a veteran Tour de France cyclist could appreciate.

Fast forward 20 years. Without providing before and after pictures, John and I have, shall we say, changed a bit. In short, the years have taken their toll and those firemen's bodies are now more like fire hydrant bodies. However, some women still drool at the sight of us in our tight lycra bike shorts. We know because we see them when we ride past the nursing homes. 

I got a wild hair this past week, knowing that the RTR route would be announced on Saturday. It would be a good chance to perhaps recapture those special moments 20 years ago. When the announcement of the route was posted on the Internet, I was downright giddy. The 2013 route is a very favorable one whose direction is such that it will take advantage of prevailing west to east winds; tailwinds for most of the ride will be a reality and the dreaded headwinds all but nonexistent.

With a great fervor I contacted John, gave him the details and we both agreed that we'd make this happen. I spent last Sunday morning putting together the plan. First, I looked at the fees involved and gasped. The $100 fee in 2003 has ballooned to $500. The $40/night motels that we stayed in 20 years ago are now $150/night. Transportation to the start of the ride is a 207-mile journey; the return trip at the conclusion of the ride is equally long.

Despite the challenges, I trudged on.

I detailed the costs and logistics in a lengthy email to John with the promise that we'd decide the next day whether we would move forward with this. The more I thought about it, the worse it sounded - costs and logistics being the key factors. So, with my tail stuck firmly between my legs I notified John via email that I was bagging the idea. 

I waited to hear from him for several hours, all the while thinking that he would come back to me in a bitter fashion, chastising me for getting his hopes up then wimping out on the ride. I envisioned the end of a great friendship, one which was riding on our recapturing the fun, challenges and accomplishment that we had 20 years ago. Yes, I was convinced that, should he ever talk to me again, it would be through a sneer in his lips that could only mean you sniveling whiner - we could have burned up the route this year.

My phone made the bonking sound that indicated that an email was awaiting my attention. It was from John. With great trepidation I opened it and read that he, too, had come to the same conclusion about the ride. Perhaps another time would be better. Another time, indeed. When? Five years from now we'll be either pushing 70 or pushing up daisies. Ten years from now...I don't want to think about it.

Regardless of the outcome of our decision not to ride this year, for a brief time when we were considering this year's RTR we were the men who we were 20 years ago, men with a hardened resolve to conquer the highest peaks. We relived the tremendous sensation of the finish line, the sweat, the emotions, the reward of a cold beer, of being reunited with loved ones, of looking forward to sleeping in one's own bed, of a huge steak sizzling on the grill, of a few days not tied to a bike seat, of the many tales that we would tell endlessly over the following years, of the memory of a Colorado sky so blue that it's beyond beauty and description.

Of being in our 40's again.

Readers, enjoy your day.