Tri Hearter: Glory Ride to Pikes Peak

By Bill Plock
Of all the thousands of miles that you have ridden, what makes one particular ride or road or moment standout from the blurriness of all the others? Many reasons probably; the people you ride with, new scenery, a first of this or first of that, or accomplishing something you wanted to quit or didn’t even think you could do.
Maybe it’s one of those things or in the case of my ride on July 4th it was all of them. For 25 miles I climbed with my good friends, Amy Mosser Romero and Stacia Wilkins McCormack up and up to the summit of Pikes Peak. What I will never forget was how close to not making we were and how each of us motivated the others to keep forging ahead. All of us have completed multiple Ironmans, Amy and Stacia both competed in Kona just last year, so we have ability. We understand goals and fortitude, but I can promise you there was “quit” in each of us. Maybe a small hope that the dark clouds looming would force us back. Perhaps Amy’s flaring knee pain would cause us to turn in sympathy. Perhaps we were just sick of turning our legs at 50 to 60 rpms for 25 miles. It wouldn’t have taken much, yet it would’ve taken everything to make us turn.
It could’ve been anything and there was no reason other than the awful feeling of failure that kept us going. Yes, reaching the summit would be awesome, but nothing compared to the glory or running down the finisher shoot (especially in Kona I can only imagine).
To be vulnerable with you, the fear of failure, for me at least and I think for them, was far greater than the reward of sharing the top with a couple of thousand tourist bustling for trinkets and doughnuts. Though I must say, given the road rage and tragic accidents littering the front range Colorado, our journey brought out the best in motorist. Many would slowly pass us and cheer us on and at the top countless folks wanted to understand our why and congratulate us. It was quite refreshing.
But back to the road, the grind. We climbed ever so slowly up switch back after switchback, wondering how much further. Well, actually we knew how many more miles, but I kept wondering, as it seemed we would almost be there, how could we still have “x” miles to go? Where was this damn road leading us? The top is right there for crying out loud!
My concern for Amy’s knee grew and if she had been running (if she could), she would have been limping along. The grimace on her face told the story. We had to make it. Just had to.
Then, the defining moment, with about three miles to go, from somewhere deep in her tiny body driven by a huge heart, she belted out an expletive starting with the letter “F” that probably was heard all the way into Colorado Springs. I can see that word now echoing through the peaks and valleys carrying frustration of pain as the only thing standing between a strong ride and one of failure. That word we don’t say in front of kids but sometimes it’s the perfect word. Timing is everything. It was then I knew she and us were going to push through. That guttural yell carried away the demon of defeat. It’s no wonder she conquered Kona.
Conversely I keep seeing Stacia’s perma-smile and my wonder of how she does it–all the time. There is no quit here. I feel like I am a strong rider but slowly this mountain was wearing me down. I kept a good pace and hopefully was motivating in my own ways. I’m not gonna say I wouldn’t have made it without them, nor would Amy and Stacia say the same thing. But I bet we would all say we wouldn’t choose to do it without each other. At least on that day.
To me, the essence of endurance sports like triathlons and each of its components, creates bonds and motivations that makes us humans. It makes friendships and lifts spirits and abilities to new heights and creates a sense of discovery.
Pikes Peak hurt, hurt as much as any ride or event I’ve done. To share that with friends is something the three of us will never forget. Who knows what the future brings and how many more rides we have or times together, but at least for me, every time I see Pikes Peak now, I will think of them and this ride.
Go forth and make memories, that is my point. We all train and follow plans and get caught up in our races, but don’t forget to make the memories and share them.
As I get ready for the final push to Ironman Boulder I will draw on this ride and I will draw on the determination of my friends Amy and Stacia—thanks you two!!!

Footnote:
As a native of Colorado I’m sorry to say I have never been to the top. I have ridden the only comparable ride in the United States, that of Mount Evans. To get this out of the way, Pikes Peak is tougher. This is not a route report, but I must warn you that Pikes Peak is steeper with an average grade of 6% and many miles greater than 8% and approaching 12% in places. Mount Evans doesn’t get above 6%. Most of us have probably ridden roads such as Flagstaff and High Grade with similar steepness, so now double or triple the distance and imagine that at 13,000 feet. We chose to ride from downtown Manitou Springs which made this ride 25 miles each direction. Obviously this route could be shorter (or longer). This route offers 7,700 feet of climbing. There are two tourist shops along the way for nutrition and warmth. The one at tree line had the best soup ever after the chilly decent! Just saying….