Urban Assault Ride

Yesterday I delivered Jo's old Saturn to it's new owner in South Denver. The buyer needed the car this week and I needed to get a training ride in - I saw an opportunity. The problem was, yet another, winter storm looming in the mountains. The rain was supposed to start around noon and turn into snow later in the afternoon. As I walked out of the house I felt a moist chill in the air, that could only mean precipitation was on the way. It would be a race against time.

The buyer's house was deep in the South Denver Suburbs. This was good because it would mean a 40 to 50 mile ride depending on how straight my route home was, but bad because it meant I had to cover those miles before the rain and snow hit. I packed a base layer, mid layer, shell, rain shell, arm warmers, knee warmers, toe warmers, two pairs of socks, and a wool hat. In the short time it took to replace a marker light on the Saturn and load the bike up I could feel the temperature dropping.

Proper route finding would be huge in preventing my urban assault ride from turning into an epic. I know both major bike paths in Denver and felt confident I could navigate to downtown, the hard part would getting from downtown to Superior, just south of Boulder. The area North of Denver is an "industrial no-man's land" in my mental map of the area. I was armed with my new phone, sporting Google Maps, but the battery was low so I could only depend on it as a back up. Before I left the house I spent a solid 20 minutes trying to memorize the area on my laptop.

I dropped the car off in the buyer's driveway, but nobody was home. I raised quite a suspicion with the neighbors as I took the license plates off and then shocked them all by changing into my biking clothes right there in the drive way. I could just hear the phone call to the police, "Help! There is a naked man abandoning a vehicle in my neighbors driveway."

Once I got suited up, I headed out of the neighborhood to the main traffic artery I came in on. I knew if I continued West I'd eventually get to the South Platte River and Bike Path. After a short jog South and then Northwest I saw the river and then the path which would take me straight to downtown Denver. The South Platte Bike Path runs through the ruins of Denver's industrial era, its a stark contrast to Boulder's country roads. I enjoyed the path and foolishly used precious cell phone battery power to take pictures (sorry for the poor quality). Although cold, the sun was still out and my spirits were high.

South Platte Bike Path

Downtown

I rolled by the REI flagship store downtown after just over an hour. I was feeling strong and ready for the unknown that lay ahead. I headed Northeast through the Highlands, but as I crossed over I-70 the weather started to turn. Within about 10 minutes the sun had disappeared, gust front winds pelted me with street trash, and it started to drizzle. I kept my focus and headed North into the "industrial no-man's land". I made it about a mile before I hit my first real obstacle, a wall of train cars 2 deep. I waited at the crossing for about 15 minutes before cold and impatience drove me to seek a new route.

Highlands

I jogged South then West which spit me out on Federal Blvd. Federal is a 3 lane thoroughfare that is not safe to bike on. After about 5 minutes I saw salvation, a bike path to the West. I busted a quick U turn in the next traffic break and rode towards the path. It soon became evident that I was on the wrong side of the creek that the path followed. Luckily, the same train tracks that stopped me earlier provided a solution in the form of a bridge. Just walking in road cycling shoes is hard, so jumping a fence with my bike, hiking up the steep grade to the tracks, crossing the railroad tie bridge, and stumbling down the other side was a huge expenditure of energy. It would have been worth it if the path lead me somewhere useful, instead it took me right back to Federal Blvd! Argh!!

My Route

Problem & Solution

There isn't much of a story from this point on. The constant sprinting and stopping of riding in traffic was taking a toll on my legs. I tried to use my cell phone to Google Map my way home, but the battery was dead. I suffered in cold, wind, and occasional rain through an endless maze of industrial areas and old neighborhoods until I found my way to Indiana Street. In my mental image Indiana was the straightest route North, it wouldn't take long to leave the residential areas for open prairie and cross a couple ridges. In reality, Indiana proved to be a horrible choice compounded by my own underestimating the distance I would have to ride on it to get home. It was a seemingly never ending hell of wind, hills, no shoulder, and constant traffic. I was too cold and exhausted to celebrate as I crested the last hill into Superior, but I was happy to be home. I'll never ride on Indiana again.

Total time including lights, traffic, trains, fences and train bridges: 3:02. Distance 51 miles.