My CT Journey 2023 — Durango to Silverton

Patricia George
Life At 5280
Published in
8 min readSep 11, 2023
The author in her Panache cycling jersey, wearing sunglasses and helmet and sitting at the top of Stony Pass, which is at the Continental Divide at 12,650 feet. In the background is her WhyCycles Big Iron bike leaning against the sign.

It has been a long time since I’ve written a blog post. But after the past week, feeling like I have to process it and so here is my ride report.

My second attempt at the CT lasted 5 days (3.5 days on the bike), starting in Durango and ending at the top of Stony Pass, just outside of Silverton at 12,650 feet.

This attempt was much shorter than my first attempt in 2021, which ended with mechanical issues at Marshall Pass, and I think it taught me so much more.

About the CT: It is one of the most incredible places in the world. From the trail you see such remote, incredible beauty. It’s Colorado in its glory: waterfalls, mountain streams, evergreens, aspen trees, marmots, pika, deer, sheep, birds, butterflies and wildflowers, and so many different shades and colors of mountains. And quiet. Absolute quiet. Sunny days and blue skies, and cold mornings where you warm up clothes in your sleeping bag before getting dressed again in your bib shorts and jersey for the day.

I am grateful for the days I took out there. But when I got to the top of Stony Pass, I also knew that I was not ready for 2 more days of exposed, challenging trail in high country (between 11,000– over 12,000 feet).

Biggest lessons…

You cannot cram for the something as big as the CT. Bikepacking the Colorado Trail is one of the most difficult athletic challenges one can choose to take on. It is 527 miles with over 70, 000 feet of elevation gain, and a lot of technical (ROCKY) terrain on a bike loaded with gear, and lots of miles, especially at the beginning of the northbound (NOBO) trek, near or above tree line. You have to be fit, strong, mentally prepared and focused. You have do keep yourself safe — from falls, blisters, sunburn, hypothemia, lightning, dehydration, and more. You also have to keep your bike running, solving any rattle when you first hear it, making sure your gear is tightly secured. If anything happens — if you or your bike incur injury, you must solve it yourself. You may have a satellite tracker (I use the Garmin InReach Mini 2) and insurance, but if something happens you may literally be days from rescue.

So preparing for this requires respect for the trail, focus and obsession and a lot of training.

I was doing well in my training this year until May brought extra levels of stress and what people call moral injury. The details are not important, but from May through July, I felt that my focus had to be on work and family matters, and my training took a huge hit. I put off the Breck Epic for another year and decided the CT was just not in the cards this year. But then at the end of July as the fog of moral injury lifted, and as I felt back to my old self, I decided I wanted to attempt this ride for me. Not to prove anything. Just for me. Riding my bike is a true joy and how I choose to express a part of myself in the world. “What if I can?” I asked myself. So mid-August (less than one month out) I started focusing on the goal.

With a busy schedule with important work and life issues, workouts and prep still fell short of what I would have liked. I felt heavy and more breathless than I had remembered in past rides when riding this summer in Crested Butte and Breckenridge. Yet I wanted to try, to attempt to ride what I could, and regain that piece of myself for myself — the cyclist piece.

My kit (what I carried and how I packed my bike) actually turned out well. In the future I’ll look for ways to lighten the load, but overall I had what I needed and used almost everything I packed. Whereas last time I had bike mechanical issues but my body felt okay, my body struggled more this time. The soreness, fatigue, and impact of altitude were great. If I just had had 8 more weeks of consistent training… Yeah, as I mentioned, you just can’t cram for the CT.

When you take on the CT, be aware of whether you are riding from something or riding toward something… A large part of the impetus to ride the CT is to be alone in the mountains and truly offline. There are no pages, texts or emails. You are 100% justifiably out of office. The focus is to ride, eat, drink, and stay safe. It is not on email inbox zero or Epic Inbox zero. It truly is freedom. And as I made the transition to the wilderness, I started riding toward passes, toward water sources, and toward the first town. When I arrived in Silverton on day 3, I turned off airplane mode on my iPhone, and my phone blew up with messages. The well-wishes from friends and family were so kind and welcome after that hard first effort. But then there were also also secure Tigertext messages (even though I was not on call) a reminder that in our profession how hard it is to truly set boundaries. And we overstep them so often with each other all the time. So a huge part of riding on was to ride away from this, to have the boundary imposed for me, rather than riding toward some of the most gorgeous high country you ever saw. How can I shift my regular life ever so slightly so my focus is on riding toward the passes and the trail and less to escape what I struggle with in the day-to-day?

In order to bikepack the CT successfully, I’ll need to be more intentional in my preparation, how/where I spend my energy, and in setting limits in other areas of my life.

Intentionality. Riding intentionally means riding segments of the trail (sectioning it, as they say, as opposed to thru-biking it) and bikepacking on weekends and enjoying pieces of it. Learning it. Getting to know it, which I can do easily as so much of it is practically in my backyard.

In terms of energy, when you bikepack, you become acutely aware of how you’re spending energy — how anxiety and tension drains energy. How riding a little too steep might put you in a hole, or how hiking a little too long may also do the same (ouch, upper back, neck and shoulders). So you have to choose where to put your energy. Choose to respond and not react. No drama. Just ride. In life, no drama. Just do you.

As for setting boundaries — this is the most difficult task. A friend of mine says that being available, affable, and able are key to success in our (and honestly any) profession. So how do we balance this? How do we take protected off-time for our own goals? Maybe in smaller increments.

What would it look like going forward if when I am on call and during the workday you have 100% of me, but when I’m off, I’m unapologetically unavailable?

It looks like:

· Choosing to send no emails on weekends (timing the send for Monday mornings). And setting the out of office setting on email and on secure text app when I am not on call.

· Avoiding sending after hours work-related texts to respect my colleagues’ space.

· Not always immediately responding with a text or email back. Not all emails require a reply. And sometimes it helps break the inbox stacking for others.

· More focused reading and working offline, without notifications and in do not disturb mode.

· Choosing what you say yes to and politely saying no to projects assigned by others without your assent.

It also looks like:

· Having more energy for the important aspects of my work: taking care of our patients, and beyond that, transforming how we think of healthcare and strengthening our community.

· Being present with the people I love.

· More time on the bike. More time on the trail.

· Reducing what feels like palpable c-reactive protein levels with that constant low-level stress.

· Being my healthiest and fittest yet.

These are the lessons I took from the trail. The next (and harder) step is implementation… The workaholic tendencies to be always connected is internally driven. It started with conditioning of our training in residency and fellowship, but continuing on this path is a choice. Nobody tells me to not set limits. So I need to do this myself for myself. As I continue to recover this week (I have it blocked as vacation and I will take it), I’ll be designing tactics to be able to be a more complete physician athlete, a more complete version of myself.

Now time to continue to catch up on sleep, clean my bike, recover, and enjoy these cooler days.

I want to send a sincere thanks to my family, my friends, my work colleagues, and all who supported me. I want to especially thank Coach Jason of Team Wilpers, who helped get me through this tough summer with workouts and helping me focus on the important parts of getting fit and healthy. I am grateful for my health and the privilege to attempt stuff like this. I’ll be back.

In Durango on the morning of departure
Pictures from the trail between Durango and Silverton

--

--

Patricia George
Life At 5280

Physician, athlete, and lover of the outdoors. Seeking to understand how we manifest our best selves. Inspired by hope. Opinions are my own.