Trail Angels. They're not just on the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route.
Tales of Trail Angels fill the annals of Great Divide lore. Many who live along the route offer water, food, and even shelter to bikepackers riding by. Some Trail Angels are now legendary, after years of rider testimonies of their selfless service. The Ovando Jail, Lost Llama Ranch, Brush Mountain Lodge, The Resort at the River, and Toaster House were "must-stops" for me on the Great Divide.
Here are links to prior posts that tell a little about those special places and people. Kathy and the Ovando Jail; Barb & John at Lost Llama Ranch; Basin Community Center & Strawberry Safety Shelter; Kirsten at Brush Mountain Lodge; Sylvia & Joe at the Canon Plaza Summer Store and Goldie at The Resort at the River; Nita and the Toaster House in Pie Town; A-F Ranch. There are many more, such as Hanson Livestock Ranch, TLC Ranch, and Hachita Community Center, places I missed, and new places since.
Another kind of Trail Angel exists that are not connected with any establishment, but rather simply appear randomly at the most unexpected place out in the middle of nowhere particular. Those kind, caring, generous, friendly folks are just out there in the backcountry, maybe playing, maybe working, maybe in need of something themselves. But they notice a solitary bike rider plodding along.
They don't just drive by. They stop to check on you. Are you OK? Are you lost? Do you need anything? Can I give you some water? Are you sure you're OK? Where did you say you were going? And you started from where? On a bike? Are you sure you don't need anything?
I could not tell you how many encounters like that I had on the Great Divide. I'd say most days, except perhaps through the busy, distracted, more developed area of Central Colorado between Kremmling and Como. Perhaps not coincidentally, that was my least favorite section.
Here are links to prior posts that tell a little of a few of those special Random Trail Angels that divinely appeared on my ride. Again, there were many more. Marlene & Paul in Grizzly Country (my most profound Trail Angel experience); Jeff & Colleen at Como; Rock Hounds Barbara & Dave; Dropped Camera Returned; Dawn the Campground Host at Hopewell Lake; Tom Atop Polvadera Mesa; George the Elk Hunter.
Random Trail Angels are not restricted to big, cross-country routes through remote backcountry.
I enjoyed that experience right here on a moderately busy, paved highway in the Black Hills of South Dakota near Mt. Rushmore on a hot day after the Fourth of July weekend.
| RideWithGPS file for my Mt. Rushmore Loop (Hill City) |
On little more than a whim, last Monday I decided to ride a favorite, mostly paved loop out of Hill City. It climbs Sylvan Lake Road to the Needles, threads the Needles Eye Tunnel, screams down Needles Highway, meanders along somewhat graveled Camp Remington Road and single track Iron Creek Trail, connects with Iron Mountain Road (aka PigTail Highway) for another climb and then quick descends to Peter Norbeck Scenic Highway (Highway 244), climbs to Mt. Rushmore, rolls to USFS Low Standard Road 356 to connect with Old Hill City Road, and returns to Hill City.
All told, that's 44 miles, with almost 5,000 feet of elevation gain. It's not a route to just hop off the couch to ride, unless, of course, that's what you do.
I've ridden this loop many times over the years. Some question riding those roads due to the level of car, motorcycle, and tour bus traffic. But they were built for tourism, not for buzzing from Point A to Point B. As a cyclist, I've never had a bad encounter there.
Riding through the one-lane Needles Eye Tunnel, with a pickup escort.
Starting late morning (I know, I know) from Hill City, the initial climb up Sylvan Lake Road to the Needles takes more out of me than usual, due to my relative lack of conditioning and inconsistent riding of late. But the growing heat and relentless sunshine pile on.
Screaming down Needles Highway amp up the average speed and cool the jets. In no time, I turn onto Camp Remington Road, a gravel-sprinkled dirt road that quietly slips into two track and leads to the single track Iron Creek Trail. This smooth stretch trends gently downhill and is often shaded, making for a very nice break from the paved busyness of Sylvan Lake Road and Needles Highway.
Then I'm back to pavement for the climb up Iron Mountain on PigTail Highway.
| One of many creek crossings on Iron Creek Trail. |
Now, it's downright hot. 90-some degrees, bright sunshine, little wind. I'm sitting at Mile 23, about halfway around this loop and at the lowest elevation spot of the day.
The grade is up, but steady and moderate. The views are inspiring, including occasional glimpses of Mt. Rushmore in the distance. This is normally a nice, smooth spin to the top.
Not today. The exertion and heat hammer my speed and psyche. I reach for another gel to find but one left. I reach for a drink to find just a bit left. Even though I'm approaching the summit, I know the warning signs of heat exhaustion. It's time to stop before cratering.
| Out of a tunnel, the pigtail goes over, and then under, a bridge. Or, from the other direction, under a bridge, over the same bridge, and through a tunnel. |
I pull off the road, grab the remaining gel and water bottle, and plop down against a pine tree in the shade. I just need to cool off. Take a short break. Finish this climb. Carve a fun, quick descent before a final, nasty pitch up to Mt. Rushmore. Then roll back to Hill City. No problem. Just cool off a bit.
A pretty steady stream of car and motorcycle traffic drifts by. Most probably don't even notice me sitting under a tree. All good. I got this.
| Cooled with multiple Cokes and re-fueled with a buffalo burger at Mt. Rushmore. |
Then a car with Alabama plates stops. A 30-something year old man leans out his window and yells, "Hey! Are you OK?"
I smile, give a thumbs up, and wave, thinking that would send him on his way.
But then a woman from the passenger side chips in, with concern in her voice, "Are you sure? It's really hot. Would you at least like some water?"
Well, I must of looked worse than I felt. And how do I turn down such kindness? So, I walk over to that young couple, accept two, ice-cold bottles of water, and share a delightful conversation with them.
I tell them that they are my Trail Angels today. And they just made my day a whole lot better.