© John Trotter

I’d hoped to get on the road early Tuesday, knowing that I’d have a long, grinding climb over Berthoud Pass.  Last night, I even had designs on making it to Granby.  But as tired as I was, I slept terribly in my tent at the Indian Spring campground and by morning I felt as though I’d been awake more than I’d been asleep.  Any cyclist riding the Tour de France could count on being shelled by the competition after such a night.

Nevertheless, I rolled out of my sleeping bag, got on my bike and rode down Main Street in Idaho Falls for some coffee and a little breakfast.  But it was after 9am before I hit the road and I lamented the loss my best laid plans from the night before.  And I hadn’t been riding for an hour before I ran across a Starbucks, with wireless internet access, where I stopped to check my email and update this blog.

Before noon, I left the Interstate 70 access roads I’d been following and turned onto U.S. Highway 40 and the approach to Berthoud Pass in earnest.  As I settled into the climb, I saw a gash of brown trees scarring a mountain to my left and realized that I was riding into the elevation where the Mountain pine beetle (Dendroctonus ponderosae) were laying waste to the alpine evergreen forest across the Western United States.  The higher I rode, the more the mountainsides reminded me of piles of discarded Christmas trees in February.

This vast scourge across an entire region is yet another symptom of global warming.  The larvae deposited in the bark of pine trees by adult beetles have not been frozen to death during winters that are trending warmer in the higher altitudes.  As the pine forests are already stressed by the protracted drought that has gripped the West for a decade, the perfect storm has arrived.  Millions of acres of pines are dying or dead and we may very soon not recognize a part of our country that has long fired our collective imagination and shaped our identity.

But mostly today, I’ve been focused on moving myself closer to the Colorado River headwaters and frankly, the suitcase trailer I’m towing up these mountains behind my folding Bike Friday is overloaded with camping and photography gear.  Turning the pedals, even in my very lowest gear, is hard labor.  For the curious, I’m hauling: Two Mamiya 7 cameras, with three lenses; two flashes (one of which is a backup); a Sekonic meter; about 50 rolls of Tri-X 220 film; an old Leitz Tiltall monopod; a Canon Vixia HV30 video camera, with a Sennheiser mic and four tapes; an Edirol R9 digital audio recorder and of course, the 15” MacBook Pro on which I write these words.  The laptop alone must weigh over six pounds.

I’m sitting tonight in a lightweight one person tent on a featherweight ¾ length sleeping pad, with only a wisp of a sleeping bag to keep out the chill of the mountain night (I’m generally a warm sleeper, but I’m not as hardy as a pine bark beetle).  I guess I’ll know in the morning if leaving the heavier sleeping bag at home was worth it.

At the top of Berthoud Pass is a sign marking the Continental Divide.  East of there, all the rivers flow to the mighty Mississippi.  To the west, everything flows into the Colorado.

John Trotter

This entry was posted on Friday, July 24th, 2009 at 12:21 pm and is filed under From The Field, News, Project Photographer. Both comments and pings are currently closed.