When I first told an old roommate of my plans to ride Colorado's Monarch Crest Trail, his advice was clear and concise. "Bring all your tools, lots of food and as much water as you can carry," he told me.
Another friend who remembers first reading about the 35-mile length of single-track a decade ago in some outdoor rag, had heard similar warnings.
That friend of mine, John Fitzmaurice, had been itching to take a spin on Monarch Crest ever since he perused that magazine article way back when. And I'd wanted to get there since first hearing those stories about tools, food, water and possible danger. So, we put it on the summer list of epic rides and proceeded to talk about it at least once a week until one day late last August.
When it dawned on us the High Country summer was retreating rapidly, we jumped in John's '78 primer white Dodge utility van and headed for Monarch Pass from our recreational basecamp in Summit County, Colo.
Monarch, without a doubt, was everything we were looking for--maybe even a bit more.
Despite the broad mix of cyclists we spoke to before heading out, one general theme-- that of getting hopelessly lost for hours on end -- seemed to prevail in most accounts. Even the bike shop gurus in nearby Salida, admitted the Crest sends many a rider astray, sometimes spitting them out dehydrated and starving 50 miles off-course with only a few minutes of daylight to spare. It's not unheard of for the local shuttle service to pick up a few random cyclists hours after dark on the wrong side of the Pass several times during the trail's short season.
John and Frisco-ite Rob Weeks, the final link in our fat tire power trio, had attempted the trail a week prior to our successful venture. Their ride was filled with exciting mishaps, including an extra 20 miles after John took a wrong turn (which, of course, was blamed on a "low-quality" map) that kept them on the Colorado Trail slightly longer than anticipated. Eventually, they made it to the one-horse cabin town of Sergeant. They ended up hitching a ride back up the pass after a few hours of late-season, roadside mosquito wrestling.
So, when we set out for Monarch, it was with as much trepidation as food, maps, survival gear and water. If we were going to get lost, we'd have enough supplies to bivouac comfortably through the entire winter. Camelbacks stuffed, we made our departure from the Monarch Pass summit just after dawn and few cups o` joe.
But despite the warnings--all partnered with curiously wide grins--we found having a blast on Monarch Crest isn't reserved exclusively for shaved-legged hammerheads.
"It's not as easy to climb so fast when you're pushing 70," one Denverite said as we passed him early into the ride.
His group rolled into Poncha Springs and was cracking Buds within an hour of our possee's arrival at the local Conoco station. They had also stopped during their adventure to gather batches of wild mushrooms and hunt the season's last wildflowers. This deflated our twenty-something, testosterone-fueled egos just slightly, but a few brews seemed to soothe those bruises quickly.
Their arrival, however, was proof that with accurate information, this ride is for all cyclists. That's not to say it isn't strenuous, and with a few variations, can task a seasoned rider to the edge of his or her ability, but for those out for an extended, single-track spin on the Continental Divide, Monarch Crest is undeniably an ethereal slice of Rocky Mountain backcountry.
The ride offers a quick warm-up as it climbs steeply up a jeep road, immediately crossing under Monarch's scenic tram. A mile or so in, we took a right onto the well-marked Continental Divide Trail, spinning through the trees on hard-packed single-track. Much of the trail here is tacked neatly to the 35-degree mountainside, offering high-damage potential for slight technical errors. The first 10 miles mount above-timberline saddles, cross through pine forests and shoot through talus fields.
Following the initial turn onto the Continental Divide Trail, riders will encounter a carved wooden sign. Go right here, turning toward Marshall Pass.
At 11.3, miles the trail intersects a gravel road and parking area complete with bathrooms. This is the Marshall Pass Trailhead, a poorly marked intersection that leaves many riders wondering where the hell to go.
Turn right onto the gravel road, continuing up the hill, a pasture (potentially full of cows and definitely full of cow pies) and a few small ponds should be on your left as you climb the road for a few hundred yards. The road splits with one trail, on the left, leading to Starvation Creek. (As a general rule of thumb, try to avoid trails that lead to death, i.e. Death Valley, Crushed Skull Junction) Do not turn here, but follow the road farther to a cattle guard and a sign with mileage information for Saguache (and a few other towns).
Turn left here, leaving the road to climb a mouthwatering section of single-track that returns to the gravel road after about 4 miles. The initial climb is what your granny gear was made for, but once on top, the buffed-out, this-is-better-than-great-sex downhill sections will have you drooling for more.
Continue to climb when the single-track rejoins the logging road, and at 14.5 miles turn left onto more single-track at a makeshift sign with "Rainbow?Silver" painted in yellow. Less than a mile later, turn left into a meadow at a well marked intersection (a rusted iron sign marked "closed to motor vehicles" should be at the start of this trail). This is the Silver Creek Trail.
Again, more vertebrae smashing downhill is ahead of you. The trail becomes deceptive here, tempting you to let go of the levers, only to throw large rocks in front of your wheels at the worst moments. If there are any loose parts on your bike, this stretch will claim them as trail toll.
Following this bone-jarring single-track, the trail joins a jeep road with stadium-air-style water bars every 50 yards. If you feel comfortable going big at 30 mph, this is your playground. If not, do not continue without health insurance.
The Rainbow Trail, a popular extension of the Monarch Crest ride, intersects shortly after the single-track joins the jeep road. Staying on the road, the remainder of the ride is a big-ring spin for about six miles to Hwy. 285, where riders should turn left down the hill to Poncha Springs.
From the summit of Monarch Pass, we rode 34 miles, and it took us about 3.5 hours with plenty of breaks.
A Conoco gas station at the High Valley Center, 6250 Hwy. 285 in Poncha Springs, offers shuttle service to the Monarch Pass summit at 8 a.m., 10 a.m. and noon, seven days a week. The van and its trailer can haul 14 people and their bikes per run, however reservations are strongly suggested. Special arrangements can be made for larger groups. Monarch Crest's season usually runs from the beginning of July through the end of September, when the first snows make the trail inaccessible.
The shuttle costs $11.50 per person, and a rudimentary trailmap of the area is handed out with the service. The info in this article should be accompanied by a topo map, compass and a basic level of common sense. Parking, gas, food, liquor and cold beer are also available at the High Valley Center. Call (800) 871-5145 for shuttle reservations. |
