The weather has turned toward spring, and the mountain roads are getting a bit more manageable. Everyone is headed into the western hills to find their winter climbing legs.
It's tough transitioning from CX racing and 2 months of short climbs and roller rides to head into the mountains. A week of life getting in the way left me beat up and I was not exactly ready for an extended climb. The trails are still socked in, but temps in the 60s and clear roads made for a good day to head up to higher ground.
Not a well traveled climbed, but it has been on my rotation for some time, either as a supplement headed to higher ground or back from my old friends "Grapevine". Often it is a nice 35 miles out and back.
Just a few miles up highway 40 is the Mother of Cabrini shrine. The climb is short in Colorado terms. Only about a mile or so. It has a few steep graded sections and it is treeless, odd for a climb at elevation of just about 7200 ft.
It feels very European or "euro". Steep right off the bat from 40 and then is a gradual zig zag switch back to the top. Along the way are signs of religion. The blessed mother, crosses, a stream of Catholics in cars head up to visit. No bumper stickers that say "climbing for Jesus"
Today was a typical spring day, "in February". Sunny, warm and windy as hell. I make it to the base of the road and I am out of the saddle. I make the transition and start spinning on the less steep sections. The wind is a bear. In form, the climb is like knocking of a rosary for penance in grade school, knocking out a steady tempo of Hail Mary's and Our Fathers. The beads run fast through the hand like a steady cadence. 
Today it is more the Stations of theCross for me, February form, wind, and virgin climbing legs of winter, I am hurting. I make it to the not so pearly white gates of the entrance, they are more like chain-link grey. I pass the old stone structures. I do my loop around the visitor center and gift shop. Take a long pull off the bottle and zipper up for the descent. On the saddle from the center to the entrance, a majestic view of the plains and the city of Denver appears. I feel high up, I sit about 2000 ft above my house, sixteen miles away. I fail to take a picture, but I have it saved in my mental file. It's wonderful.

I descend in the wind back to 40. Without breaking and pedaling, the decent is a fun bomb that hits speeds in the mid 30s to 40 mile per hour. I make it to the gas station that is my staple stop on the way home from Gennesee, Kitridge or other mountain towns off of 40. A 95 cent can Coke is always on the menu. I get back on the bike and more descending back to the city.
I love being a Denver urbanite. I can leave my house through the old neighborhoods of North Denver and spin for 10 miles before the "mountain" climbs begin. I can see the city from high above and return home in less than 2 hours. Best of both worlds.
If you find yourself needing to mix it up, go see the Mother, you will not be disappointed.
Ride Log - Feb 19th
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