Wordless Wednesday

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Lanterne Rouge

I was swept half a mile from the summit of Pikes Peak. This was the first time I've ever been the Lanterne Rouge. I didn't make the summit cutoff. I'm the only rider who got swept without reaching the summit.

The literal silver lining is that because I went down in the broom wagon, I didn't have to pay for the commercial summit shuttle. And yes, I'd planned to. I had absolutely no interest in contending with that wind on a descent.

We were told the tundra temperature was 40 degrees and the wind was 30 mph.

I had the right clothing. My legs got a little chilled twice, but I stayed pretty comfy most of the ride.

But that wind! That brutal enemy did me in.

On the bright side, we had no thunderstorms. The day was beautiful. Except for the wind. We also had no biting flies, which is what I remember best about the day I drove to the summit some 12 or so years ago. I guess flies can't stomach that kind of wind.

Riders had to reach Glen Cove by 12:30 to attempt the summit. So I set my goal for 11:30. I reached Glen Cove at 11:18. Making the summit wasn't a guarantee yet. I had only until 2:30. I calculated how many miles per hour I had to ride all the rest of the way to make it to the top by cutoff. I couldn't hold that speed in the headwind.

On one of our favorite movies, "Race Across the Sky," which tells the story of Lance Armstrong beating David Weins in the 2009 Leadville 100, narrator Bob Roll comments about riders pushing too hard in a really big ride. "When you blow to the moon," he says, "you never come back."

I pushed. I wanted this moon-like summit. Pikes Peak by bike was a ten-year goal, but bikes had not been allowed, and I wasn't sure I'd get another chance. I wasn't sure the ride would ever be offered again. Plus, there was this alluring nostalgic tickle. I climbed my first and most difficult 14er when I was 40. Now I'm 50. I was one of 48 women in the first Pikes Peak hill climb ever, and I wanted this special 14er to commemorate 10 years of peakbagging and half a century of keeping on keeping on. Even if I was the 48th woman to the top. Pikes Peak by bike would be the hardest ride I'd ever done in my life. If I could make it to the top.

I blew, in Bob Roll's terminology, about four miles from the summit. I had nothing left. But I kept going. I didn't turn back. I kept pushing, even though the clock was ticking and my chances were growing slimmer by the pedal stroke. Or by the gust. Gusts powerful enough to knock riders off their bikes.

At 2:20, I could see the end. One more switchback. About two and a half stories. I had it. I knew I could make it. I wondered if they would sweep me if I was that close.

Yes.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to beg. The broom wagon driver said he'd already sent all the rest of the volunteers home. There were no more SAG wagons. There was no medical staff. There was no more food, oxygen or bike maintenance on the summit if I had a problem.

I've done enough volunteer work in my life that I know how it feels when you plan on giving a whole day and someone asks you to give more. Ride sweepers have the longest day of all ride volunteers, and this sweeper just happened to be the ride director. He'd done his time. He'd already had a long day. I was so close, but I couldn't ask him to give more than he'd already given. Later I learned he and his co-organizer invested their own funds in pulling off this ride because registration wasn't as successful as they had hoped. Closing Pikes Peak to automobiles on a summer weekend day is very, very expensive. Insuring an event like this is a bill I'd never want to have to cover.

He asked if I would call it a day. I briefly hesitated, then wordlessly surrendered my bike to put on the roof of the broom wagon. I could have melted right there on the road. I almost didn't have the strength to get into the vehicle. My emotions were absolutely shot.

I always cry during the cutoff scene in Race Across the Sky. Three men who gave it their best shot are shown getting their event armbands cut because they didn't make the first checkpoint in the allotted time. Their race was over. I've always been intimidated by races with time limits because it seemed like it would hurt so much to be cut off after training so hard. And coming so close.

And now I've lived it in real life.

I'd known from the day I signed up for this ride I might not make it to the top. I wasn't sure I could make the checkpoints in time.

A lot of riders turned back when they hit the two-mile dirt section of the road. A lot of riders turned back at Glen Cove. I made the choice to keep going at Glen Cove because I believed I could make it. I even designed a snowflake in my head when I learned I was the Lanterne Rouge, or the last rider. Everyone behind me had turned back. They don't give badges for being last, but I could certainly make something special to show I'd made it up the mountain in my most difficult ride ever.

Even though the wind was battering me, I still kept hoping I would make it. I never stopped believing. I kept pushing, even when everything in my body was spent.

The blow was tremendously crushing. It's the only time I've ever been swept. And yet, I know I've done something Lance, Levi, Contador and the Schleck brothers have never done. I'm trying really hard to be proud. Or at least satisfied.

Even though I didn't make it all the way to the top, I did my best. I gave it my all. I didn't give up, and I didn't turn back.

I guess it's somewhat like raising troubled adoptive kids who run away before you finish trying to teach them the things they need to know. You spend a while feeling like a failure, and then one day, suddenly it feels good. You know from the deepest caverns within your heart you did your best. And you smile at the memories.

Here's to hoping my Pikes Peak memories will one day bring smiles.

PS: I was 50-60 vertical feet shy of Pikes Peak's 14,110 altitude. The following day, I climbed 60 flights of stairs (44 flights non-stop) for an altitude gain of approximately 730 feet. So I've climbed my 14er. I just didn't do it in 7.5 hours.

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Snowflake Monday

I've been doing a lot of really big flakes lately, so I thought it might be time to do a tiny one for a change. I call it Petite Flake.

You may do whatever you'd like with snowflakes you make from this pattern, but you may not sell the pattern. Thanks, and enjoy!

Finished Size: 2 inches from point to point
Materials: Size 10 crochet thread, size 11 crochet hook, empty pizza box, wax paper or foil, cellophane tape, glue, water, glitter, small container for glue/water mixture, paintbrush, stick pins that won't be used later for sewing, clear thread or fishing line

Petite Snowflake Instructions

Ch 4, sl st into 1st ch OR make magic ring.

Round 1: 12 sc in ring; sl st in starting sc. Pull magic circle tight, but leave opening big enough to allow stitches inside it to lay flat.

Round 2: *Ch 2, dc in next sc, ch 2, sl st in next sc; repeat from * around 5 times, sl st in sc of final sl st of Round 1.
If you're not reading this pattern on Snowcatcher, you're not reading the designer's blog. Please go here to see the original.

Round 3: *Ch 4, dc in next dc, ch 4, sl st over next sl into sc below; repeat from * around 5 times, sl st in final sl st of Round 2.

Round 4: *4 sc in next ch 4 sp, ch 2, dc in next dc, ch 2, 4 sc in next ch 4 sp; repeat from * around 5 times, sl st in final sl st of Round 3; bind off. Weave in ends.

Finish: Tape wax paper or foil to top of empty pizza box. Pin snowflake to box on top of wax paper or foil.

Mix a few drops of water with a teaspoon of glue in small washable container. Paint snowflake with glue mixture. Sprinkle lightly with glitter. Wash paintbrush and container thoroughly. Allow snowflake to dry at least 24 hours. Remove pins. Gently peel snowflake from wax paper or foil. Attach 10-inch clear thread to one spoke, weaving in end. Wrap fishing line around tree branch (or tape to ceiling or any overhead surface) and watch the snowflake twirl freely whenever you walk by! Snowflake also may be taped to window or tied to doorknob or cabinet handle.

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Pedal to the Metal

I built my first ever Treasury on Etsy!

Before Ride the Rockies, I didn't know what a Treasury was. Then just a few days before I left to pedal across the state on my bicycle, one of my scarves was featured in a Treasury. I was on top of the clouds! Someone liked something I made enough to feature it in a Treasury!

I didn't have time to play around and experiment then, but I've wanted to pass on that magical feeling ever since. I've been in catch-up mode now for a few days, so this is as good a time as any. A bit of hit and miss was involved; I had to make a few edits because I made a few mistakes building this. But I finally got it right, and here it is!

For those who don't know what a Treasury is, it's a giant-sized warm fuzzy crafters give each other by picking items in a theme, which Etsy then features, sometimes even on Etsy's front page.

I, of course, picked bicycles for my theme, and was quite surprised by the variety of handmade crafts I found that would make the perfect gift for any cyclist.

So now, loyal readers, you can pass on that warm fuzzy feeling that enveloped me back in June by clicking on the picture above or here and leaving a comment on the Treasury or by clicking onto any of the 16 shops in the Treasury and "hearting" something you like. I promise, just a minute or two of your time will absolutely make someone's whole weekend!

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Friday Funny

Gotta keep going with this sock kick...

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Catching Up

I've been such a busy little bee. Did you know "bee" is what Deborah means?!?

I spent so many months preparing for Ride the Rockies, then claiming a 1,000-mile month, I didn't pay enough attention to other things on my plate. Now I'm getting back on track. Which means, of course, my bikes are suffering from neglect. Which means I'm totally neglecting fitness. Ugh. Just can't win!

Nevertheless, I've finally finished uploading photos from the Denver National Quilt Festival I shot way back in May.

I've finished retouching but not uploading Ride the Rockies photos. I haven't made a slide show yet. (My family expects to see proof each year of all the miles I've pedaled. Choreographed to fun music. But they do make their own popcorn.)

I've finished retouching and uploading senior portraits.

I've finished retouching and almost uploading all my Leadville 100 photos.

I've finished 30 socks, including 14 actual pairs!

I've backed up all my photos, organized my hard drives and cleaned up my laptop.

Oh, and I got to shoot the moon last night. We had no clouds! I remembered where to find the camera settings I wanted, I got my shots, and then by the light of a fill flash and a headlamp, I shot some more pictures of my sunflowers. Then I used star trails-type PhotoShop maneuvers to combine the best moon shot with the best sunflower shot.

Mission: Accomplished!

Transformed my sunflower into a moonflower and found out who pollinates and keeps the uglies away when the bees go to sleep at night.

And now I just need to finish... well, I'll start my To Do list with a quilt for next year's Denver National Quilt Festival and leave it at that for now. Because I still have to get up Pikes Peak. There's a possibility I might get to go back into calendar production, which would mean putting together a 56-photo weekly planner by about mid-October. And I just found out I need to learn to turn a heel pronto so I can knit a pair of socks by Christmas. The Lizard wants a pair. The Lizard likes my handmade sock so much, he wants a pair!!! (Insert more happy, exhilarated, joyful, dancing exclamation points here.) Somehow, I just don't think crocheted lacy frilly socks would work. I wonder if I could design a pair with gecko toes...

Man, do I ever have my work cut out for me. But just see if you can wipe the permagrin off my face. Life doesn't get any better than this.

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Wordless Wednesday

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1,000 feet short

My final training ride to prepare for the first ever bicycle Pikes Peak Ascent was last weekend. I thought a ride up Mount Evans might be the perfect way to find out if I'm ready.

I've been to the summit of Mount Evans from Echo Lake seven times on my road bike, but I've never been able to reach the top when I start in Evergreen or Idaho Springs. To start in Idaho Springs would be shorter mileage than Pikes Peak, but almost the same 7,000 feet in elevation gain.

I'd decided a few weeks earlier to take the mountain bike instead of the road bike because the freeze cracks and sinkholes high on Mount Evans are so treacherous. I didn't want to ruin a rim on my road bike, especially after all the mechanical bike failures I've already experienced this year.

I began to feel the effect of fat tires on pavement at about mile five into my final training ride. By the time I reached Echo Lake, the halfway point, I was tired. But I knew I couldn't make it to the top if I wasn't sure I could make it, so I kept telling myself I could make it. I WOULD make it.

The first five miles after Echo Lake have always seemed to be the hardest, perhaps because it takes me that long to get accustomed to less air, but also because I can pedal 7 miles per hour at mile 7 and 8 miles per hour at mile 8 as the incline eases just a tad. I typically ride about 4.8 mph when climbing a mountain or mountain pass on my bike. Yes, I'm slow. Chipmunks and rabbits on the side of the road can fly uphill faster than me. But some people can't ride uphill at all. Some people can't ride. So I am not discouraged by my snail's pace.

At mile 18, I thought I had a chance to really make it because I'd made it past what feels like the steepest part. The higher I went, the more frequently I had to stop to breathe, however, and one particular bank of clouds was beginning to turn too dark for comfort.

Near Summit Lake, I could see a ton of vehicles pulled over, and I knew that meant mountain goats must be within camera range. By the time I reached that point, I was too tired to pull my camera out of my pack, and that dark cloud was now black and heavy. I decided I should end my climb. The mountain will always be there. I didn't want to go home lightning dead. I did not make it to the top. Again.

I also didn't get pictures of the mountain goats, even though I got to hear one very talkative baby letting his mom know tourists were on the loose. So mountain goat pictures from my last photo trip up Mount Evans will have to suffice for now.

I didn't take any pictures along the way this trip, so I've decided not to carry my camera on Pikes Peak, as much as that stinks. I've also decided to ride the road bike instead of the mountain bike because it will be easier, even if the road is bad. I want to go as light as I can to increase my chance of being able to make it to the summit. I've been up Mount Evans 10 times without a car. I've been up Pikes Peak once — inside a car. I may not get another chance to bike up it. I want the miles I've paid for. I want to reach the top. This climb is so important to me.

Because I nearly ran out of water on my last ride up Mount Evans, last weekend I carried a full bladder in my pack in addition to the two water bottles I always carry. There is no water (or food) on Mount Evans if you aren't carrying a purifier. I also carried all my own food. Fully self-supported, Mr. Tough Guy. Take that!

There will be four official aid stations on Pikes Peak, plenty of opportunities to refill my water bottles. So I may leave the bladder at home. I'll probably still carry some of my own food, just to make sure I will have food I can eat. Not all supported rides stock nutrition for diabetic riders.

I'm disappointed I didn't make the summit of Mount Evans, and I'm not sure I'll be able to make it to the top of Pikes Peak in the amount of time allowed or before storms set in, if they do. But I will give it my best shot. As long as I can still ride, I won't give up. I'll never stop trying to get up those hills!

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Snowflake Monday

I designed this flake during the Paralympics back in March, and it has a special story to go along with it.

While working on my husband's cycling glove on the train one day, I reached a point I couldn't go any further without his hand. (I needed to check the fit.) I didn't feel like working on a bear or a lizard, so I decided to make a flake.

I didn't have a picture or drawing with me to replicate, so I just began stitching. This is what happened. Well, sort of. This pattern is the perfected version of what I made on the train. While I was writing up the pattern later that night, I realized one point didn't match the rest. That must have been when train security asked to see my pass. I must have been distracted. This forced me to stay up way too late making another without the stunted point. That's Stumpy with the sunflowers up above.

HOPEFULLY HUMOROUS UPDATE: I had to change the name of this snowflake when the US Olympic Committee decided the word could no longer be spoken. Because all Paralympians are special, in my mind, I gave it that name. And then I found out about the tongue-in-cheek meaning of "Speshul Snowflakes," and I wish I had named this one differently. I REALLY wish I had named this differently.

Perhaps I might think of a better name one day and change it yet again. Until then, I hope you get a good laugh out of this.

HOPEFULLY JOYOUS 2022 UPDATE: I finally came up with a new name for this snowflake. Because times are what they are now.

You may do whatever you'd like with snowflakes you make from this pattern, but you may not sell the pattern. Thanks, and enjoy!

Finished Size: 7.25 inches from point to point
Materials: Size 10 crochet thread, size 11 crochet hook, empty pizza box, wax paper or foil, cellophane tape, glue, water, glitter, small container for glue/water mixture, paintbrush, stick pins that won't be used later for sewing, clear thread or fishing line

Resilient Snowflake Instructions

Make magic ring.

Round 1: 6 sc in ring; sl st in 1st sc. Pull magic circle tight.

Round 2: Ch 2 (counts as hdc), dc in same sc, hdc in same sc, * in next sc work 1 hdc, 1dc, 1hdc; repeat from * around 4 more times, sl st in 2nd ch of starting ch 2.

Round 3: Sl st in next dc, ch 8 (counts as 1 dc, ch 5), * in next dc work 1 dc, ch 5; repeat from * around 4 times; sl st in 3rd ch of starting ch 8.

Round 4: Ch 5 (counts as 1dc, ch 2), 1 dc in same st, ch 5, * in next dc work 1 dc, ch 2, 1 dc, ch 5; repeat from * around 4 times; sl st in 3rd ch of starting ch 5.
If you're not reading this pattern on Snowcatcher, you're not reading the designer's blog. Please go here to see the original.

< Round 5: Sl st into ch 2 sp, ch 5 (counts as 1 dc, ch 2), in same space work 1 dc, ch 2, 1 dc, ch 5, * in next ch 2 sp work 1 dc, ch 2, 1 dc, ch 2, 1 dc, ch 5; repeat from * around 4 times, sl st in 3rd ch of starting ch 5.

Round 6: Sl st into next ch 2 sp, ch 5 (counts as 1 dc, ch 2), in same ch 2 sp work 1 dc, ch 5, in next ch 2 sp work 1 dc, ch 2, 1 dc, ch 5, * in next ch 2 sp work 1 dc, ch 2, 1 dc, ch 5, in next ch 2 sp work 1 dc, ch 2, 1 dc, ch 5; repeat from * around 4 times; sl st in 3rd ch of starting ch 5.

Round 7: Ch 1, * in next ch 2 sp work 2 sc, in next ch 5 sp work 1 sc, ch 2, 1 hdc, ch 2, 1 dc, ch 2, 1 tr, ch 2, sl st in top of tr, ch 2, 1 dc, ch 2, 1 [hdc], ch 3, turn; in ch 2 sp just made, working from back of flake and not in the round, work 1 hdc, ch 2, in next ch 2 sp work 1 dc, ch 5, in next ch 2 sp work 1 dc, ch 2, in next ch 2 sp work 1 hdc, ch 2, in next ch 2 sp work 1 sc, ch 1, turn; working from front of flake, in next ch 2 sp work 2 sc, in next ch 2 sp work 2 sc, in next ch 5 sp, work 3 sc, ch 8, sl st in 2nd ch from hook and in each of next 4 ch, ch 6, sl st in 2nd ch from hook and in each of next 3 ch, ch 5, sl st in 2nd ch from hook and in each of next 2 ch, ch 6, sc in 5th ch from hook, ch 5, sl st in sc, ch 5, sl st in sc, working down other side of "tree" sl st in next ch, ch 4, sl st in 2nd ch from hook and in each of next 2 ch, sl st in next ch of branch, ch 5, sl st in 2nd ch from hook and in each of next 3 ch, sl st in next ch of branch, ch 6, sl st in 2nd ch from hook and in each of next 4 ch, sl st in next 2 ch, in ch 5 sp work 3 sc, in next ch 2 sp work 2 sc, in next ch 2 sp work 2 sc, ch 2, sl st in top of [hdc] where you turned, ch 2, sc next to [hdc], in next ch 2 sp work 2 sc, in next ch 5 sp work 2 sc, 2hdc, 2 dc, ch 2, 2 dc, 2 hdc, 2 sc; repeat from * around 5 times; sl st in starting sc; bind off. Weave in ends.

Finish: Tape wax paper or foil to top of empty pizza box. Pin snowflake to box on top of wax paper or foil.

Mix a few drops of water with a teaspoon of glue in small washable container. Paint snowflake with glue mixture. Sprinkle lightly with glitter. Wash paintbrush and container thoroughly. Allow snowflake to dry at least 24 hours. Remove pins. Gently peel snowflake from wax paper or foil. Attach 10-inch clear thread to one spoke, weaving in end. Wrap fishing line around tree branch (or tape to ceiling or any overhead surface) and watch the snowflake twirl freely whenever you walk by! Snowflake also may be taped to window or tied to doorknob or cabinet handle.

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Friday Funny

Laughing so hard, I can hardly type!

View it here if you are unable to see it above. You absolutely should not miss this one!

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Sock Hop

Socks are so much fun. Socks are addictive. Want to read some fun sock quotes? Go here. But then come back. Because I've got more sock heaven to talk about!

During a recent mountain bike adventure, I learned I can wind yarn hanks into balls in the dark. No kidding!

We left home at 3:30 a.m. I had brought socks to work on, but asking my Lizard to drive dark and curvy mountain roads with the distracting dashboard light on isn't a wise idea. So I also stashed a couple hanks of yarn in my pack, in addition to current WIP socks, tiny scissors, crochet hook and double-pointed needles. (This also was the day I forgot to take my water bottles, Hammer gel and Luna bars on my mountain bike ride. So how handy that I just happened to have socks and yarn balls along for the ride. You can't eat 'em, but they sure can keep you occupied when your tummy is growling.)

I began winding the first hank of yarn into a ball maybe a mile from home. I didn't know if I'd be able to do the whole thing. If I came upon a giant tangle, or worse, I'd be stuck until daylight. You don't want to move a tangled hank before you untangle; you could make it much worse! Nevertheless, I took a chance, began winding, and it worked! I had that baby balled up before the horizon began to appear. So I did the second one. It was finished even faster than the first. Too bad I didn't bring more hanks.

Eight bargain hanks of yarn still need to be wound. Instead of trying to make time for them in the evenings after work and frequent visits to my friend Shonna in the hospital, I'm carrying this stuff on road trips from now on. I can wind in the dark! Not to be confused, of course, with whine in the dark, at which I'm sure I excel. Just ask The Lizard.

During another recent mountain biking adventure, I learned I can finish an entire sock during a daylight drive to and from Crested Butte! (Which is precisely why you rarely see handmade socks for sale. One pair takes from 12 to 18 hours to complete, depending upon the speed of the needleworker. Sock yarn is not cheap, even when you buy it on clearance. Some knitters on Ravelry estimate one pair of handmade socks is worth about $300. And I got choked up over the price of my first pair of cycling socks: $8... So consider yourself blessed, loved or just plain lucky if you ever find a pair of handmade socks beneath your Christmas tree.)

I didn't plan this particular sock-in-a-day project in advance. I grabbed two balls of yarn that looked good together: pink and gray Noro and silvery gray Karabella. The Noro had been calling out to me ever since I first grabbed it at a rare half-price sale. I wanted to make more miniature critter goodies with the gorgeous leftovers, so making the sock toe, heel and cuff gray seemed like a super smart thing to do.

As I finished up one silvery heel on the way home, I glanced out the window just in time to see Mount Silverheels, and I crocheted even faster so I could get a shot of my Silver Heeled sock with Silverheels! Upon request, The Lizard lovingly found a safe pullout, patiently waited for me to finish, then carefully held the sock up so I could shoot this shot. He then didn't utter a single complaint when I begged, "Can I shoot the moon, too?"

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Wordless Wednesday

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