The Bucket Rider – Kicking Off the Rockies Campaign at the Santa Fe Gran Fondo

"I'm packing the car. Are your bags ready?"

"Yes," says my wife.

Opening the garage door, I see luggage stacked to the ceiling.

"What in the world are you bringing??"

"Clothes and shoes."

"Must be a lot of shoes."

"Just what I need. Gym shoes, bike shoes, hiking boots, cowboy boots, crocs, loafers, flats, sandals and heels."

"We don't have room in the car. Nobody needs that many shoes."

"EXCUSE ME. Is that your stuff?" pointing at the Everest size mountain on the floor."

"Uhm. Yea?"

"What are YOU bringing?" as she stands there with hands on hips, tapping foot.

"Bike shoes......and...uh...just what I need....in case...

"In case of what?"

"Cycling Armageddon. Just bringing spare wheels, shifters, derailleurs, chains, bars, brakes, pedals, cranks, post, and a seat. Oh, and tires 'n' tubes plus a frame with a blinky rear tail light thingy to keep me safe. The Bucket Rider is always prepared."

"That's ridiculous. You can't fit a bike shop in the car. At least I'll use my shoes." as she turns and walks away.

"Hmmm. I'll figure something out."

Three hours later with the car looking more like The Beverly Hillbillies truck with wheels, frames and bike parts strapped all over it I'm ready to begin The Bucket Rider Rocky Mountain High Campaign. A six pack of bucket rides from New Mexico to Canada: The Santa Fe Gran Fondo, Rough Riders 200, GFNCS Golden, West Elk Bicycle Classic, Beartooth Blitz and Kootenay Rockies Gran Fondo.

First up, The Santa Fe Gran Fondo-Century - Medio Fondo - ½ Century.

Confused? Me too. The event presents more personalities than Sybil. The Fondo and Century rides start at the same time, ride the same course, cover the same distance and use the same aid stops. The only difference is a $15 Fondo fee to get an "official" result.

Asking around, I learn most everyone signs up for the Century and saves the $15 for post-ride beer from Santa Fe Brewing. Which is exactly what I did.

Arriving Sunday morning I discover 1000 riders lined up 147 rows deep. So in classic ex-faux pro style I try to move up. "Excuse me." "Excuse me." "Sorry, didn't mean to knock you over." Elbowing, pushing and cajoling my way forward I successfully move from 1001st to 972nd . I've got a long way to go...

At 7:00am the 1000 start - well, except those of us at the back with time to enjoy an extra cup of coffee and read The Santa Fe New Mexican early edition. Eventually, we too clip-in and begin our journey.

Chaos quickly ensues. Forget about a safe, coordinated and reasonable start. Riders from every category, distance and political party mix together in no particular order or grouping. Imagine the Indianapolis 500 with 1000 nervous rush hour drivers all hopped up on caffeine diving into Turn 1 en masse. It's not a pretty sight.

Bikes fall like dominoes in a tangled mess. Screams of "ON YOUR LEFT", "HOLD YOUR LINE" and "STOPPING" echo. Burning cork and carbon waft through the air. I cringe and watch in slow motion as riders go asphalt butt surfing. With the event's title sponsor a local hospital hopefully the injured get a discount.

Rolling downhill at 25mph past century-old adobe homes we follow a lone police moto "safety" escort. 10 miles later the moto abandons us. Our 1000 strong biker gang now heads south, intimidating motorists as we cover the highway shoulder to shoulder.

Safely tucked in back with a nice buffer I wait for the caffeine to kick in and chat with Russell from the Santa Fe Road Riders. With decades of experience here he cautions me to move up before Stagecoach Pass - or risk getting gapped.

Of course I ignore his sage advice. By the time we start up Stagecoach, the pack is strung out like a strand of Christmas lights. I carefully pick my way through burned out riders, each seemingly one step closer to death with every pedal stroke. Looking at the soon-to-be cadavers all around me it feels like I'm in a Dia de los Muertos parade. At the summit, I finally make it up front - in the top 20. Unfortunately, 15 of those riders are already up the road. Russell was right. Now in a small group I roll through Golden arriving at the hardest climb of the day - Heartbreak Hill. The name says it all, ½ mile at 15% at 7000ft elevation. Guaranteed suffering for lowlanders like me. Somehow I make it up without a heart attack and luckily we regroup at the top.

Next we start the long slog to Galisteo. The route is not very remarkable or memorable, just wide open spaces, scrubland and a rolling yellow line to follow. Riding a rotating echelon, we efficiently cut into a stiff crosswind mile after mile.

Climbing out of Galisteo we catch riders from the front group, mix in with the Medio

Fondo-½ Century riders and, unfortunately, lose two from our group as mileage takes its toll. By the top only 4 old guys remain - Silvio, Aibel, Mark and me. A geriatric foursome fighting Father Time.

In El Dorado we see a rider sitting upright, wearing running shorts and pedaling softly just in front of us. I stare down at my stem just like Chris Froome, pedal hard and try to reel him in. It's futile. He just pulls away - with ease. This makes no sense, especially to my ego. We should roll up on this guy faster than a roadrunner crossing I25.

At the finish line I discover he is riding an electric bike, or more accurately an electric moped disguised as a bike. Nonetheless, chasing the Mech-Doper helps us finish in 4:29. One minute under my goal, but I asterisk the result as "Doper Assisted".

The Santa Fe Century is a cool event in a world class destination city. A perfect first time high altitude/mountain century - tough, but not too tough for lowland flatlanders.

The Gran Fondo, on the other hand, would be truly epic if it incorporated local venues like Truchas, Bandelier, Ski Santa Fe and the culture rich Indian Pueblos. Throw in some timed segments plus award winning New Mexico green chili cheeseburgers and it turns into a one-of- a-kind must do enchanted bucket ride. Until then, I'll save the $15 and just enjoy the century.

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