Iron Horses & cowboys, broke bike mountain..

It’s hard to believe that this was so very long ago, but still a classic ride and a great read (I hope).

Just like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid Steve Thomas and Bob Roll saddle up for a Wild West adventure as they take on the legendary Iron Horse Classic route.

“ Well, they crush you like that, then strip the flesh off you..” Bob was just continuing with the in depth description of how exactly a bear kills his unfortunate human victims. As intrigued as I was I couldn’t help but think about how slowly we were climbing along a near deserted high Rocky Mountain road, right through Bobkes favourite hunting country, bear country. 

It was a blisteringly hot mid summers day, and for some reason we’d been teamed up to take on one of the areas classic rides, okay, maybe the classic local ride would be more appropriate. This route is a sniff under 50 miles. Huh, an average mornings ride out you may think, and yes in distance terms that is indeed true. But, this ride is no ordinary ride, it’s the route of the Iron Horse Bicycle Classic, a route which even strikes fear into the heart of big bad bear hugging Bob Roll himself. Yes this is one of those rides that even the locals don’t take on without a great deal of forethought and bravado. It is a mother of mother rides. 

Our adventure had started out from the wild west town of Durango, home to Bob for some 15 years now. “ I came here for the Iron Horse race, and thought yeah!” grinned Bob in a way that only he could. We were set to call for Ivan along the way, another ex pro living in town, who looks frighteningly fit. Not what you really need on a journey into hitherto uncharted high altitude sufferance. Fortunately Ivan had other commitments, so couldn’t make the ride anyway, shame!

I’d heard the legend of the Iron Horse Classic many times, but didn’t really know anything about the parcours it’s self. Though judging by the worried and concerned looks of just about every local cyclist when I calmly banded about my intention to take on the ride, it must be pretty damn serious. All of a sudden nobody was available to go riding, except Bob and me that was, and that pretty well says it all given relevant reputations. The thought of two crazy cyclists racing a steam train through the Wild West, over mountains and through forests was all so Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. So like two latter day cowboys we hit the trail. Talking of Butch and the Kid, much of the film was shot in these parts – including the famous waterfall jump scene, and we rode past that very spot (Bakers bridge). 

Today however there were no raindrops falling on our head, just beads of sweat dropping from two weary brows as we grovelled high beneath the mid day sun. Durango it’s self lies over a mile high, so to say the least the air is thin. But this ride climbs two monster passes along the way to Silverton, both over 10,000 feet tall, a terrifying thought!

As the bear story turned another chapter the suffering begun in earnest. My poor flat guy lungs were hurting bad, and the lack of oxygen getting through was making things very heavy indead. Meanwhile I ground down through my gears in search of salvation – but didn’t find it. Bob was still eating the mountain with his big ring, and turning the commentary towards stories of epic battles fought out on these very roads; “ The first time I came up here in the race I thought I was gonna die, this is truly a classic race.” Umm, and in real terms we’d only just started, there were still some ten miles plus of climbing to do, and this was just the first of the double headed snakes ferocious bites, Coal Bank Pass (10,700ft).

Rising up through the trees we climbed on and on, Bob obviously more at home with the altitude and gradient than myself; “ Oh boy, there have been some battle royales fought out here. This is definitely the hardest of the passes.” That crazed glint in his eye told a million stories of pain and suffering.

Riding out above the tree line and the vista was amazing; the whole San Juan mountainscape panned out around us, rugged and wild. But things were not getting any easier as the air thinned down so much that it almost fell to the ground; “ This is where the men are separated from the boys. “ Grunted Bob, as I gasped helplessly. “Then, then the freaks of nature take over. It just isn’t right, not normal. “ Continued Bob referring to the mountain goats who generally take home the thin air honours in the race.

Thundering off Coal Bank like two outlaws on the run we headed towards the foot of the mighty Molas Pass, the final and the highest pass of the day. Luckily we don’t drop right back down to Durango level, so despite being higher than Coal Bank the Molas is not quite as severe. Even so, with the pains of Coal Bank in your legs it’s no mean task. 

A long and winding road climbs along the valley side, then on to a spectacular high mountain plateau. The views are really something else up here, and what’s more it was the end of the days climbing. Deep in the valley bellow lay the dotted sight of Silverton, the end of the days ride. Screeching and twisting our way off the mountain the painted wooden buildings of the old rail town grew closer and closer until they finally became full sized saloons and eateries. The ride was over, much to our relief. Now I could fully appreciate the “Classic” title given to this race.

Just like in the movie, the two saddle weary cowboys first stop in town was the local saloon, where copious amounts of fire water and frolicking with young beauties would round off a great days adventure in mountains.

Local cycling scene

Over the years the town has not only been the venue of bundles of great road races, it also hosted the first mountain bike World Championships in 1990 as well as several World Cups. It’s also been home to countless top pros including Mike Engleman, Ned Overend, John Tomac, Bob Roll, Missy Giove, Myles Rockwell, Julie Furtado and Greg Herbold, and new climbing sensation Tom Danielson of the Saturn team.

The Durango Wheel Club

The local Durango Wheel Club have weekly road rides at 6.30 p.m. on Tuesdays. Check in at the bike shop first to confirm times – you may well see Ned, Bobke, Danielson or some of the other local stars on the ride – but be warned this is no ordinary ride – it’s run off at full on race pace with race rules, primes all included! 

The Iron Horse Bicycle Classic

The idea for the Iron Horse Classic started out many years ago when Tom Mayer, a local cyclist, challenged his brother – who was an engineer of the historic Durango-Silverton steam railway, to a race. As the train passed by their Durango home Tom set off on the shorter road route to the old mining town of Silverton, and duly beat the train and his brother.

In 1972 a group of local cyclists organised a small time race to celebrate Toms original ride, this has since developed into the Iron Horse Bicycle Classic, one of the most famous and toughest races in America.

Over the years almost every top American racer has competed here, past winners include Jonathan Vaughters, Ned Overend, John Tomac, Jonathan Boyer, Leonard Zinn and Alexi Grewal. The course record stands to Vaughters at 1.58.27.

This year will be the 32nd addition of the race, and will take place over the last weekend in May. A full 4 days of cycling events take place over the weekend, including the Iron Horse race it’s self, and a mass citizen challenge ride along the route. Be sure to sign up early, as places are limited and tend to fill up early. All competitors also get a free ride back to Durango on the steam train, which is one of the most spectacular train rides in the country.

Steve’s hill report. Molas Pass 10,900feet high!

Oh my, what the heck can I say? Err, not a lot actually! The air up here is so damn thin that it’s not only hard to breath, I even started to lose my voice for a while, which may be a relief to others, but to me it means that this is one pretty serious master of a climb.

By the time you reach the foot of the climb you’re already dizzy and your lungs hurt so bad after the cruelty of Coal Bank. The scenery is absolutely stunning, but it does little to ease things. 

The gradient is steady enough, but even so my 39x25 bottom really isn’t enough for a flatlander at this kind of height. Every pedal rev takes you in to thinner air, your legs get heavier and your breathing becomes like a broken tin whistle. Eventually, and I mean eventually with a long drawn out pause, the suffering stops and the road eases out making the summit experience slightly less painful, but not that much less!