With the in-town trails mostly melted out and muddy I decided to take the fat bike on an adventure a little farther afield in search of rideable snow.  I wanted to try segment 15 of the Colorado Trail which runs south from Highway 50 just above Maysville to the top of Continental Divide.  

In the winter this area is popular with cross-country skiers and snowshoers so I knew there would be a rideable trail for at least part of the way up.  I was sure there would be no way to actually reach the top because by this time of year the snow along the divide is at least 10 feet deep but I figured I’d go as far as the trench would take me and then just turn around and come home.  The day wasn’t so much about a destination as about getting a little fresh air and exploring a new area on the bike. 

Yes, a Kuat rack will hold a fat bike. 

Segment 15 of the Colorado Trail starts out as the Fooses creek trail, which I described from the opposite (upper) end in this post.  

Fun fact:  I learned how to fish at Fooses Creek reservoir.  In fact, some of the earliest inklings of memories of my life are fishing with my mom, dad and sisters at Fooses.  Something about impaling earthworms on hooks and disemboweling fish with a pocket knife that makes an indelible impression on the brain of a five year old, I guess.  I never developed into much of a fisherman but I have fond memories of summer days spent next to the cold mountain water of Fooses lunching on fresh-caught trout cooked by my mom in a cast iron skillet over an open fire. But I digress.

Segment 15 starts with a ride up county road 225.

Which takes you to Fooses Creek resevoir

No one fishing today!

County road 225 turns into a 4WD road at this sign.

Nice, hard packed trail from all the skiers.

Into the aspens.

A couple of miles up the double track I came upon a skier gliding up the trail.  He was in the left track so as I approached him, I hopped into the right one and called out “on your right”.  From the look on his face as I went by, I think I surprised him.  He was an older guy, maybe late 60s, early 70s, tall and lanky, clearly fit, wearing a rag wool hat and old-school knitted sweater.  He had the craggy, tanned face of someone who has spent a lot of time in the mountains.  If his name wasn’t Sven, I would be disappointed.  I said thanks as I passed him and continued rolling up the trail, feeling somewhat smug about passing my first skier in their own terrain. 

As I climbed higher the snow became less tracked and considerably softer.  This made for greater effort, slower going and frequent breaks to catch my breath and to keep my heart from beating itself right through my sternum.  At this point I was climbing at around 9,500 feet.  During one such recovery break I heard a voice behind me, “It gets a lot softer from here on up”.  It was ‘Sven’, who had managed to reel me back in.  

He continued, “I’ve skied this trail 10-15 times a year for the past 20 years.  I don’t get passed very often and I’ve never seen a fat bike up here.  Have you ridden this before?”  

“No, I just don’t know any better,” I replied.  

He smiled and repeated, “Well good luck, it gets a loft softer from here on up.”  

I thanked him for the advice and stepped aside to let him pass.  Humbled, I got back on my bike and continued my slow grind up the hill.

Me, getting dropped by ‘Sven’.

Trail junction

A pair of skiers heading back down.

This sign marked the start of the single track.

The Colorado Trail in all its winter finery.

Mt. Shavano comes into view through the trees.

Snowy bridge over Fooses creek.

Snow getting deeper.

End of the line. At around 10,000 feet, approximately five miles from the reservoir, the trench abruptly ended. I stepped off the bike and sunk up to my waist in snow. Whelp, guess that’s it for today!

But the best part was still to come. Since it was uphill all the way to this point, the trip back to the car was a fast, fun downhill. Nothing like flying downhill on a bike in snow! I managed to stack it up once in the single track when my front tire left the track and sunk up to the axle, launching me into a full-body flop in deep snow. Whee!

All in all, it was a short but fun ride. It was especially cool to see an old, familiar place in a new light and a new way.