Leoti to Scott City

Miles today: 29.92
Ave speed: 12.68
Max speed: 21.25

Total miles: 1,862.65

Well, guys, some days I’m lazier than others. I think after shredding my elbow on the road, my body wasn’t up for a lot of mileage. I slept in, and woke up in a bit of pain, and moseyed around with breakfast and hanging out.
Once I finally left, it was afternoon and gorgeous. The road spread out before me like a carpet (okay, smoother than that), the wind not too strong, I enjoyed my short ride.

I even saw wind turbines! They don’t scare me like oil drills, despite their being entirely massive in comparison.

Just like every other day on the plains, I passed several small towns, many of which were off the main highway on a small county road by several miles.

The clouds today were really gorgeous, and I had trouble figuring out which ones were jet trails and which had been formed naturally.

It’s interesting to me that the counties here tend to be named for a town I’m headed toward or passing through. In Minnesota, I’m familiar with Hennepin county, where I live, but not with a town called Hennepin. Similarly, I can’t recall whether there’s a town called Carver or Ramsey (these are two other counties near mine in Minnesota). I knew I was headed toward Scott City, though, when I entered Scott County.

Another thing that amuses me on the road, aside from the idea of riding up a long county road to get to “town”, is the names of the small towns, like Modoc. It seems that a lot of these town names are pronounced differently than I’d think–for example, I was saying Lee-oh-tie, but it’s Lee-oh-ta.

Lately, there have been a lot of “Feed Lots”, which I found out are places where cattle go to be fed before going up for sale or slaughter. The heavier the cow, I suppose, the more meat it produces, and thus the more valuable it is. In the feed lots, tons and tons of cows sit in enclosures. This makes whistling at them very entertaining, because a lot of heads pop up when I do.

I hit another construction zone, and it looks like I should’ve been heading the other direction on this one. To my left, in the westbound lane, was a gorgeous, brand-new layer of pavement. I don’t mind so much riding on the ground-up part, because it’s usually quite smooth..

After a pleasant ride without a terrible amount of wind (just enough to keep me on my toes), I reached Scott City.

My first stop was to find chocolate milk. This time, I found it at Casey’s General Store, one of my favorite convenience/gas stops. They tend to have a ton of stuff there, and there are benches to sit on inside.

After that, I headed to the grocery store to restock some things. I called the local police to double check that it would be okay for me to camp in the city park, and they said it would be fine. Once I got there, there were a lot of kids playing on the playground, despite it being almost dark. With kids watching me curiously, I started unloading my panniers and set up my tent.

There was a Dairy Queen across the street, and I didn’t really feel much like setting up my stove in the dark, given that it was getting pretty cold, so I wandered over there and got a fast-food dinner.

While sitting in my tent enjoying hot food and celebrating the fact that I could eat (carefully) in the tent without attracting bears or mountain lions (yay, plains!), I heard footsteps approaching me.

I began to get a little scared, but then a voice called out. It was Officer Cuffler, just swinging past to check on me. Phew.

It was a big relief to know that a really kind police officer was working, and we talked for a while about his daughter, who’s excelling in school, and is hoping to be accepted to a higher-education program at a nearby college for her junior and senior year, and eventually be a medical examiner. It’s cool to hear people’s stories, and I’m rooting for the Cuffler family.

It got pretty chilly, but I stayed warm in the tent due to my bundling abilities. When I realized that the grocery store had forgotten to bag some of my things, Officer Cuffler was kind enough to go and grab them for me, saving me from having to leave my tent and bike alone and walk twelve blocks.

I even got lucky enough not to be trick-or-treated (more likely tricked) on the night before Halloween, and didn’t have any more visitors all night.

Eads to Leoti

Miles today: 82.20
Ave speed: 13.33
Max speed: 22.83

Total miles: 1,832.73

I woke up in Doris’ extra bed, with its vibrant floral bedspread, cozy and comfy.

After chatting for a bit and going about our respective morning routines, I decided to grab breakfast up the street, and hoped to see Doris there sometime before her meeting with the Red Hat Society. It was chilly, just like most mornings, but the sun was up and I had a pleasant ride down the street to the cafe.

Doris and I had some time to talk before her friends started showing up, but as we were finishing breakfast, it was clear that the Society had gathered.

The ladies had quite a few questions about my trip, and we had a nice time joking and chatting. They seemed ready for their meeting soon enough, and I was ready to get on the road.
A couple of miles in, I saw what appeared to be a yellow flag atop a long pole. As I got closer, though, I realized that it was flame atop a long pipe, and an ominous-looking machine and some tanks accompanied it.
This was my first encounter with oil drilling.
As I kept riding, I saw more and more of the pumps plunging repeatedly into the earth. It was fascinating to me that they were right in the middle of people’s crops, but I guess if there’s oil there…

The machines and their process smelled horrible. The constant pumping of the machine tied my stomach in knots. I’m not sure I can explain why, but passing by all of these drills, or wells, or pumps, sucking oil out of the earth, is both scary and sickening to me.
I guess I’m going to be passing a lot of these here, so I’ll have to make my peace with them. It’s definitely not possible to turn away my head, because there’ll always be another one on the other side of the road, and beside that the smell permeates the air.
I hit a few small towns on my way toward Leoti. Chivington was first.

Then there was Brandon. I try and take note of which tiny spots have a grain elevator, which have only houses, and which look deserted. It’s interesting to ponder what these towns looked like 60 years ago, or a hundred years ago.

One thing these tiny towns all have in common is that they spit you back out onto the open road just as quickly as you entered them.

I didn’t see any purple mountains’ majesties today, but I think I saw some amber waves of grain. Farmers are busy at work getting their hay baled, and it all seems pretty dry around here.

As I was admiring the amber waves, I managed to fall off the side of the road. This is both understandable and not–with the frequency of cars coming along, there’s absolutely no reason for me to stick to the shoulder, but at the same time, there ISN’T a shoulder.
And so off I went, getting a nice patch of skin torn off below the elbow, a substantial bruise on my hip and knee, and a decent nick in my bike frame. The silver caps on my brake hoods went flying off, I later discovered, and my bar tape got a little shredded.
Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner, and after a few minutes of sitting, shaken up, and a couple of phone calls, I got back on the bike and limped my way to the next town.

When I hit Sheridan Lake, I went into the gas station to clean up and inspect the damage. I had ripped through my brand new smartwool shirt in a few places, and my elbow was extremely tender, but I think I’ll survive.

After a few conversations with road guys and water guys and cow guys and hay guys, I got back on the bike. One of the road guys informed me that I had dirt roads to look forward to for a few miles, so I pressed on, not knowing what to expect.
Then I found it.

It really wasn’t bad, save for when a truck went past, leaving me in a cloud of dust.
After riding on this surface, I hit the town of Towner, which meant I was getting closer and closer to a new state. Two miles from it, in fact.

And then I could see my new state sign! Yippee! New state!

I kid, I kid. I’ve been in Colorado for a while! That was the sign on the other side of the street.
But KANSAS! That’s news.

I think there’s a hawk in this picture. It would be representative of the bazillion I’ve already seen.

Riding in Kansas is pretty much the same as riding in eastern Colorado. Actually, the only difference I’ve found so far is in the highway sign for route 96. So, Tribune was my first big Kansas city.

Tribune isn’t big by Minneapolis standards, or even Excelsior standards. I believe it boasts about 1500 people, but it has a gas station and a bowling alley, which make it practically NYC for me.
But even the biggest Kansas metropolis just plunges you back onto the open highway. I got ready for an epic sunset on the plains.

Another big milestone in my trip which will make my family and friends in Minnesota happy, but not so much my new friends from the West, is that I entered the central time zone! That means that when it’s noon for me, it’s noon for my mom. Cool!

Another big thing to happen today was my realization that there is nothing separating me from the wind. No hills, no mountains, no trees. And so, I have begun to beware.

The wind wasn’t too bad, and neither was the sunset. Oh, the colors…

I rolled into Leoti (pronounced lee-OH-ta) just as it got dark. Here are the signs. It’s the best I could do, but apparently they’re reflective, as demonstrated by my camera’s flash.

I had called ahead to the Hi-Plains motel, a nice little place with a special rate for bikers. I ended up with a king sized bed, and free breakfast in the morning! YAY. Rhonda was at the front desk, ready to check me in, when I got there.

Hooray for Kansas!

Ordway to Eads

Miles today: 63.93
Ave speed: 13.73
Max speed: 23.26

Total miles: 1,750.53

When I woke up, it was still cold, but the sun was coming out so I knew it’d at least start to warm the air a little. I took a look out the east-facing window of the trailer to se the sunrise, but instead I saw a brown goat.
That brown goat was probably my favorite part of Gillian’s place. I’ll miss my little buddy.
If you’re wondering what my digs were like for the night, this is where I slept. Notice the many mattresses, from which I made somewhat of a fort. I slept within the bottom bunk.

I wandered and found Gillian working on feeding the animals, so we chatted while she shoveled hay. She’s a fascinating lady, who loves being outside and working hard. I’m hopeful that someday I can stumble across her again, because I’d like to learn more about her story and philosophy on things.
I moseyed to the end of town near the highway, where I had heard there was cheap, good breakfast.
Bits and Spurs delivered. My waitress, Jen, was so kind, and the food was AMAZING. I had my eggs, bacon, toast, hashbrowns, coffee, and a biscuit with gravy for under ten bucks. Wow.

When I was leaving, I got to chatting with some locals, and one of them told me to look for Doris once I got to Eads. I took note, and got going.
I wasn’t a mile onto the highway when I saw a llama grazing just over the railroad tracks.

And then there were two!

The third llama was the last one, but it was funny to whistle at them and watch them stare in wonder at the thing going past.

I cranked my iPod again, and began watching the road stretch on in both directions. I hit Sugar City, which wasn’t but a blip on the radar.

Then I was entertained by a hawk circling above me. It’s fun to watch the hawks, because they’ll swoop from one side of the road to the other, scoping out the grass for something to grab and eat. I’ve never spent so much time close to a hawk–sometimes, they’ll fly not ten feet over my head.

But alas, my entertainment was short-lived. The road through Kansas is a boring, lonely place.

I stopped because I was overheating, and shed my knee-high wool socks for some ankle-high wool socks.

And then I got back to being bored out of my skull.

Sometimes I wonder if George is bored, too. His view really isn’t any better. (please notice George’s new safety restraint system. Thanks to Evan’s drill, he no longer lists to one side all the time.)

And so. Blip, blip, blip, I passed many signs that meant nothing more than a changing of hands for the land. Kiowa county, after which a lot of schools and streets are named around here,

The town of Arlington,

And a big cell tower that gave me a full five bars of service all day. Unfortunately, I’ve never heard of Viaero, and it ain’t AT&T, so those bars were fairly useless.

Back into boredom I plunged. Road, road, road.

Then I hit Haswell! According to my map, there was stuff here! So I went in search of the stuff.

I found a strange little park with a pavilion and outhouses, but the hinges on the door to the women’s side were so rusty I had to pry it open. I didn’t mind using the restroom with the door ajar in a town where nobody was out and about.

I made a phone call and ate a snack, and then set to leaving Haswell. I didn’t bother looking for the store.
Goodbye, Haswell.

Hello, road. I swear I’ve seen you before.

Can somebody tell me what a draw is? When I passed this sign, I immediately felt it a command to draw my surroundings.

With no paper or crayons, though, I kept going. Maybe somebody else will draw the draw.

Finally, after a long day that tested my self-entertainment skills, I saw Eads’ FFA sign. It’s cool to come into these towns and see that the FFA and 4H kids are active and welcoming you to their place.

I headed into town in search of a cafe called Cinnamon Joe, and there I found Denise. She, too, told me to contact Doris, before I even had a chance to ask her if she knew Doris.
I sat a while and chatted with her, met her husband Sam and her kids, Hatch, Case and Aspen (cutest red-headed two year old I’ve seen all trip…), and then gave Doris a call.
She invited me to her home, where I met Jose, a junior in high school whose birthday is coming up (happy birthday on the 2nd!), and was treated to dinner, a hot shower, plenty of conversation, and a warm bed.
The hospitality in small towns never ceases to amaze me, and Doris, a retired art teacher with a passion for others, was no exception.
I went to bed warm and happy, glad for another good riding day.

Boone to Ordway

Miles today: 32.81
Average speed: 11.55
Max speed: 15.53

Total miles: 1,686.6

I had gone to sleep knowing the snow would be gone by morning, and I woke up to clear skies and crisp air. It was still cold, and I realized that Shawna had deposited my soaking wet mittens IN my pannier, where they spent the night staying cold and wet in the breezeway. So I waited around the house, chatted with Joanie, and made some quinoa on a real stove in a real pot. By the time I set out, it was a gorgeous fall day.

Jeff and Joanie live a mile or so off the main stretch on a dirt road, so Jeff was kind enough to load my bike into his truck, as the dirt roads had turned to mud with the precipitation. I said goodbye to Mac, Mooch and Pete, and hopped in the truck.

With a final thank you and goodbye to Jeff, I finished packing up. As I was putting snacks in my front pack, Terry, a local from the night before, pulled up. He was en route to do his daily water stuff–he manages the water for Boone. Honestly, I’m still a little fuzzy on what that means. He checks to make sure people’s water supplies are in good order, and maybe that they aren’t abusing their water rights. This has been a mystery to me throughout the dry areas of the country–people must buy their right to have water, and there is only so much, and farmers often battle for the right to water their crops. Coming from the Land of 10,000 Lakes, this baffles me.
Anyway, I was finally packed up and ready to roll. The sun was out, and it was a glorious fall morning.

The road wasn’t top-quality, but I was loving the air and the music coming from my iPod. I entered a new county, which is always a good feeling.

With maybe fifteen miles to go, I decided to stop and have a rest and a snack at Olney Springs.

I found a little pavilion in town, and ate the rest of an ancient bag of beef jerky and some triscuits. It was nice to sit in the shade on a bench, and because yesterday’s riding had been cut in half, today’s was, too.

And so, just as I was beginning to feel the length of my trip, I rolled into Ordway.

As has become customary on this trip, my first goal upon getting into town was to find a chocolate cow. I haven’t succeeded yet. I did, however, find a grocery store, and left with chocolate milk and a coconut Popsicle.
Then up to the end of town I went, in search of Gillian.
What I found at the end of a dirt road was a beautiful piece of land, out of the way, with Guinea hens and geese and turkeys and horses and goats and dogs living peacefully together. And in the garage I found Gillian, a New Zealander, working on some gates for her property.
She showed me to the trailer, where I could spread out and relax, and told me I was welcome to use the kitchen and bathroom and washer. I opted for just a shower, and rinsed out my bike clothes to hang them on the line for the afternoon.
Then I made the rounds and greeted some animals.

The brown goat was very curious about me, so we visited several times throughout the evening.

Once the sun started to set, I retreated to the trailer and worked on putting cleats on my new shoes.

The trailer didn’t have a heater, so I slept with the lamp on and imagined that it was giving off a couple of degrees of heat. I guess that when it’s below freezing, a couple of degrees isn’t much, so it was pretty chilly. Bundled up and in my coat, I fell asleep atop a few cot mattresses, comfy in my nest.

Salida to Westcliffe

Miles today: 49.94
Average speed: 13.43
Max speed: 34.18

Total miles: 1,571.95

After spending some days recuperating in Salida and getting to know Evan, the day that I realized I HAD to get back on the road finally came. Evan had offered to take my panniers in his truck and meet me in my next town for some camping, and I gladly agreed. Riding without panniers sounded, in two words, freaking amazing.

So because I would have a lighter bike, I figured I’d move faster, and wasn’t in a huge rush to get out of town. We went for lunch at a little pizza spot called Moonlight, and it was delicious. You can barely see her, but we rode our bikes down to the restaurant–Black Betty sits behind my pannier-less bike on the rack.

She sure is a beauty.

Once I got on the road, I was faced with open road and no load! The sun was shining, there was a little breeze, and all of the car drivers seemed to be smiling and waving.

I texted Justin, a fellow cross-country rider, and his lady friend, Sarah–“look ma, no panniers!”

Then, I continued to enjoy the scenery. Seeing this sign, I hoped to see some bighorn sheep.

Alas, none. But there were some great views. A river to my left, complete with fly-fishers in waders, and a nice road ahead.

Just as I entered Fremont county, I got a text from Sarah.

She said, “Welcome to the flat lands :)”… and then I ran over a rock.

Yeah. Thanks, Sarah. Welcome to the flat lands, indeed. My first pinch flat of the trip! If you’re not savvy, a pinch flat occurs when the tube gets pinched between the rim and the tire due to a blunt force against the tire. Like a big rock.

So not five miles into my blissful pannier-less trip, I was on the side of the road fixing a flat. Oh, well. At least I know how to patch a tube. Back to the gorgeous…

On my docket were many small towns, none of which really had much to say for themselves.

As I had discovered earler, there were many rocks in the shoulder. I didn’t really need it, but it was nice to see a sign reminding me that there were, in facts, rocks around me.

Now, I don’t mean to point out the same thing I’ve been pointing out throughout the, uhh, ROCKies… But there ARE rocks here. They’re really nice looking, too.

When I hit the town of Cotopaxi, it was time to turn onto a different road, which my maps showed me would shave off several miles from my trip for the day.

The leaves on this side road were beautiful. The road was deserted, and I was able to take whatever part of the lane I wanted.

I giggled when I saw this sign. Littering IS awful. And, by the way, illegal.

As I kept riding, I began to realize that there were no cars on this road because the pavement SUCKED. It didn’t matter that Evan had my panniers somewhere out in the world, because the pavement was so chewed up that my knees hurt anyway from bumping around.

But hey. Frustration? Oh, well. It was still GORGEOUS out.

I finally got to turn off of the hellish red-paved road that needed serious help, and then I hit the little town of Hillside. This meant I was getting close to Westcliffe.

First, I had to get to Custer County.

I saw deer and cows, both enjoying grass in the fields.

And then! Hallelujah! I saw Westcliffe.

Evan showed up shortly after I got there, and found me in the little coffeeshop drinking Agave Limeade. We tried to go to the state park outside of town, but were greeted by “No Camping” and “Contract Area” signs. The No Camping part had to do with the campground being closed for the season, and the Contract Area signs pertained to the trees they were planning to chop. We didn’t really want to get crushed by falling trees, or deafened by chainsaws at 6am, so we headed back into Westcliffe with sadness in our hearts.

There was a little motel in town that had kitchens in its rooms, and wasn’t too pricy, so we ended up settling for that. Evan made fantastic quesadillas while I called my mom, and then we both worked to get my new tires on the bike. Apparently, brand new wire-bead tires aren’t a one-person job. Or a one-Abbi job, at least. But I did get them on, and neither Evan nor I had to go to sleep cold in a tent.

Pueblo to Boone, in Which I am Temporarily Snowed In

Miles today: 25.37
Average speed 10.97
Max speed: 22.83

Total miles: 1,653.79

I spent the night in a little motel room that smelled like heavy perfume (think of a visit to your grandmother’s house as a child, if you had the pleasure of a heavily perfumed grandma), because I knew that the weather wouldn’t look too kindly on a tent by morning.
I was right, and when I woke up the sky looked ominous and the clouds appeared ready to dump something. The air wasn’t quite cold enough for snow, but not warm enough for rain, and by the time I had checked out, a mist of sleet was falling from the sky.

I braved the sleet for a few miles in order to get back on route, and ended up at the Starbucks I had enjoyed the day before. Sitting inside, I prayed and hoped for the temperature to drop just a tiny bit, and give me some snow.
Sure enough, as I sat there, the grey slowly turned white, and the cars started gathering a coat of wet snow.

My plan was to head to Ordway, CO, where a warmshowers host with a separate trailer for bikers lived. With a sixty mile trip ahead of me, I headed out as soon as I was sufficiently warmed up and bundled.
Unfortunately, the snow was still more wet than fluffy. I am really lucky that I picked up the coat that I got in Moab–waterproof and warm, and with a substantial hood, my torso stayed dry. My hands and legs were a different story, as I hadn’t put on my rain pants, and the mittens I put over my gloves aren’t waterproof. But warm I stayed.

As I rode, I watched the slush gather on parts of my bike, and when I stopped to have a snack, I noticed a coating of snow on the fronts of my panniers.

After about 15 miles, I could feel the wet seeping toward the base layer on my legs, so I checked the map for a place to stop and dry off a bit.
About ten miles later, I hit the town of Boone.

Seeing an all-purpose type of store on my right, I pulled in and a woman hollered from her car that I could go in and warm up, and hang out for a while. Once I got in, I was immediately welcomed, and Shawna practically commanded me to shed my wet layers and dry off.
After about fifteen minutes, I was putting price tags on inventory, and gossiping with Shawna.

I realized pretty quickly that I wasn’t leaving town that day… Shawna wouldn’t have it, and I’m lucky she was so adamant because the snow continued to fall, and the temperature to drop. She made a few calls, and found me a place to stay with Jeff and Joanie, the owners of the store.
After an evening of meeting the locals at the VFW, chatting with a different Abby, and finally being driven to Jeff and Joanie’s, I fell asleep in a warm bed, glad to be inside and excited to make my way to Ordway in the morning.

Westcliffe to Pueblo

Miles today: 56.47
Average speed: 13.84
Max speed: 48.35

Total miles: 1,628.42

I left Westcliffe in the morning with a nice tailwind, and well-wishes from Evan, who had to get back to Salida. Not a half mile out of town, I hit another town.

I have a feeling Silver Cliff and Westcliffe should be one town, but maybe somebody doesn’t like somebody, or somebody wants to be different from somebody else, so they decided to be separate municipalities. Like Norway and Sweden.

This day was important, because it was my last day of Rockies climbing for the trip. I had a few miles to climb, then it was downhill! With mountains behind me, I enjoyed looking in my rearview mirror.

Then I hit the top, and OH BOY. It was time to descend!

I felt the wind in my face, and the sun on my back, and the joy in my heart as I went down my last elevation-profile worthy climb of the West. From here on out, my maps don’t bother listing the elevation, because it’s pretty dang flat, and the hills aren’t anything you have to plan for in advance.

There were some dilapidated buildings, and it was cool to see the ones that had a new house built right next to them.

I was excited to see that I was less than 40 miles from Pueblo, and on a downhill.

Then, I hit a real downhill… and a really fun one.

The road twisted and turned, and hardly a car accompanied me… it wouldn’t have mattered much, because I was going faster than the cars around curves. The nice thing about being on a bike is the fact that I get some leeway when taking curves.

And hey! Rocks!

Once I emerged from the curves, I was still going downhill, though not on as steep a grade. Fun, fun, fun.

Wetmore wasn’t much to see, and it wasn’t where I was headed.

I giggled several times, as real, live tumbleweeds crossed my path. No matter that this means I had a crosswind–the idea of the tumbleweeds chasing me in a tailwind was a little nervewracking, because I’m used to seeing them go ACROSS roads.

Just as I thought I was out of the steep hills, I saw another one! Wahoo!

The steep gave way to rolling, and up and down I went.

Then it flattened out, and I started seeing some of the most gorgeous leaves of the trip.

After rolling through the tree-lined area of West Pueblo, which I later found out is where all the wealthy folks build their houses to escape the city, I hit Pueblo proper.

Pueblo is where the Western Express route ends, and meets up with the TransAm, so this is a major turning point for me in the trip.

I had to ride to the other end of town, where I found a walgreens and picked up chocolate milk. As I left, I met Rita, who moved to Salida after meeting a guy on her TransAm trip last summer. CUTE BIKER STORY. We agreed to try and meet up later in the evening, as Rita and Ryan had to be at juggling club.

So I settled into the Starbucks next door with my third siren-emblazoned cup of the trip.

It was nice to hang out, and I met Darrell, Joe, Toni and Shayne.

I can tell that this store has a great manager, because the whole team is HAPPY to work there. They work well together, and their joy for their job shines in their customer interactions. Kudos to this crew.

The other big thing I did in Pueblo involved a ZOO.

Eagles!

A peacock blocking the door!

An ostrich that wouldn’t leave the fence!

RED PANDAS! These are my roomate Kendra’s Favorite Animal Ever.

So, umm, yeah. Pueblo was a win. Rita and Ryan are awesome, and the zoo was fabulous, and I got Starbucks! I’ll be sad to leave Colorado, because it’s proving to be a pretty great place.

A brief update!

Hey all. It’s been a long week filled with some tough decisions, and I ended up staying for some days in Salida, CO to recuperate mentally.
I’m writing from Pueblo, where I completed the Western Express portion of my trip. From here on, I’ll be on the TransAmerica route. It’s pretty exciting to say I’m through a tangible portion of the trip, as my maps will have a different name on them.
Getting to Pueblo also means that I’m over the Rockies! Yesterday’s ride had a bit of a climb in the morning, and then it was for the most part a rolling downhill trip.
I have tons of pictures and words to share, and am hoping to find a computer to use so that I can catch up. In the meantime, I just want to send a thank you to everyone who has followed me thus far and supported me in my trip. I wouldn’t be experiencing this the same way without the kind words and comments I receive on the blog, and I’m sorry I haven’t stayed on top of my entries this last week!
Stay tuned for more. 🙂

Salida!

After climbing Monarch and getting into Salida around dark, I wasn’t super keen on heading out the very next day. Evan’s house is pretty fantastic, Salida has small-town allure that I felt wasn’t well-enough explored yet, and I wanted to spend a day getting my head back in the game. So when I woke up to Evan making lattes, I decided to stick around Salida for a bit.

First, I had to send Evan off to work. He’s helping to build a timber-frame home for his good friends Chris and Rita, and left me with free reign of the house and permission to be lazy, while he went off to work really, really hard.

So I did just that. I hung out around the house for a while, caught up on the blog (and then promptly got behind again.. sorry), and admired the sun coming in through the kitchen.

When I finally set out, I stumbled across this cute duo, who are renting a house here for a bit and enjoying town. Joan and J…. Jim? John? crap.

Anyway, J&J are from Santa Fe, and are seriously considering moving to Salida. After spending some time there, I totally understand where they’re coming from.

Lani and Kendall, who I had met the night before, both work for a shop called Yolo, so I stopped in to check out Lani’s wares, and visit with them. Of course, I left with things. BUT. One of the things was wool tights (multipurpose! utilitarian! cute!), and the other a long-sleeved dress made of BAMBOO. A great sustainable resource, and completely packable.

Then I wandered down the street to Salida Mountain Sports, where I had a care package waiting for me, thanks to LJ from GearHeads in Moab. It was SO exciting to remember that I have this support network that now spans four states.

I took all of my stuff to a restaurant called Amicas, where I was told they have wood-fired pizza.

Uhh, yeah. They do.

I don’t remember what mine was called, but it had big mushrooms, and red onions, and kalamata olives, and tomatoes and cheese and prosciutto! YUM.

Once I finally got home, I checked out the care package. Remember how much I was raving about the holiday Clif bars? Well, LJ remembered!

I haven’t seen the holiday Clif bars ANYWHERE since GearHeads in Moab. In addition to these tasty treats, LJ sent me a cool light from Tactical Lighting Solutions, a Moab-based company. The flashlight has interchangeable parts, so that you can make it light up red or white in the middle, like a glow-stick, or it can be a red or white flashlight (red can blink, or be solid, and white can be dim or bright). In looking at the brochure, it seems you can also order other colors of light, other colors of tube, and different strengths and functions for the lights. So, you can pretty much make it do whatever you want.

I played with the flashlight for a long time. A really long time. When Evan finally got home from work, I then showed him the flashlight for a while. Then we went mountain biking.

Do you see how ready Evan looks to mountain bike? And do you see the silver bike, which I am supposed to use to mountain bike?

Umm, okay. So this is me after two miles of mountain biking, which felt like a zillion years.

That was the point at which I started crying. Actually, that was taken AFTER I had started crying, stopped crying, and been informed by Evan that we needed a picture of me mountain biking.

So, I loved it. It was fun, and I’m a baby, apparently. But here’s what happened. I went mountain biking, right? But it was after a month and some change of the following rules:

a) DO NOT ride on rough terrain. This includes SAND, GRAVEL, and surfaces with POINTY ROCKS.

b) DO NOT take sharp turns. EVER.

c) DO NOT sprint up steep hills.

d) DO NOT fly down steep hills.

e) DO NOT ride recklessly. Ever.

f) DO maintain a steady pace.

g) DO be aware of surroundings at all times.

So you take me, who has been riding on a bike with drop handlebars and 80 pounds of gear down fairly straight roads and with a healthy awareness of what’s ahead and behind, and then you tell me to take a bike with flat bars and no gear load, and throw myself along a rocky, rough, steep, unpredictable trail.

It went against everything I’ve been doing, and it scared the crap out of me. So I cried. And then we took a picture and pretended everything was peachy.

So, anyway, mountain biking was AWESOME! I’d definitely do it again, but maybe not in the middle of a tour…

I’ll take a minute here to explain Evan as one of the most patient and kind people I’ve had the pleasure of staying with. He cut his ride in half, and refused to let me just mosey on home. Instead, we rode home after half a mountain bike ride… and then he cooked dinner.

No. You guys. He cooked DINNER.

It was nice to sit down to a real meal, and it was absolutely delicious. Knock-you-over delicious. Thank you, Evan.

After dinner, I had a phone call that I had been dreading, and returned inside to discover that Evan had just gotten off the phone after a somewhat dreadful call. I had to call my mom and hash some things out with her, and I finished the night completely drained of energy, and not really wanting to do anything at all except sleep.

Enter rest day two… when I woke up, I realized that I was in no place to ride. I was drained emotionally, and that left me with little physical energy. As I poked my head out from the guest room, I saw the same thing as I had seen the morning before.

Evan, at the espresso machine.

Evan had already told me I could stay as long as I liked, so the decision not to go on was pretty much already made before I had finished my coffee. It was beautiful out.

And I had discovered a slow leak the night before, so I bid Evan well as he left for work, and got to my own work.

The flat had been caused by wire, and two patches later I had a good tube again.

I headed down to the bike shop in town, since I needed to replenish my patches, and I’m still holding out hope that SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE will have Schwalbe Marathon Plus tires, which I have been seeking for over 900 miles.

So in I went, and Craig, the guy helping me, didn’t sound too promising about the tires. But he went in the back…

AND EMERGED WITH 700x32c SCHWALBE MARATHON PLUS TIRES.

Exactly what I’ve been looking for FOR THREE STATES. Holy crap, you guys. I danced. And then I called my mom to make sure I wasn’t making a stupid purchase. As with every time I call my mom, I was reminded that I already knew the answer, and that I’m not nuts. So I bought the tires.

Then I met up with Justin’s lady friend Sarah (Justin’s the one riding from Maine to Tucson for Make a Wish), who was passing through Salida on her way back to Colorado Springs after going camping with Justin (awwwwww…). I’m bummed that I didn’t get a picture with her, but we got coffee and sandwiches, and looked for a new book for me at the bookstore to no avail, and stopped in this neat little consignment sports store, and then found a yarn/fabric shop. I got yarn! and needles! and now I’m going to knit! And Sarah picked up some fabric, because she sews. YAY.

I was supposed to have gone to the grocery store, because Evan had made such a good dinner, and I was in charge of picnic stuff… and hanging with Sarah gave me very little time before Evan got off work.

But Sarah came to the grocery store with me, and we were able to pick out a very nice picnic spread, and Evan returned home to me chopping veggies and stuff. Then we packed it all up and got in the truck.

We drove and drove and drove, and then hiked and hiked and hiked…

And then we relaxed in the hot pools. With a picnic. Man, oh man. My brain was tired, and I was kinda cranky, and it felt so good to have a hot bath and watch the sun go down. I could handle this kind of thing more often.

Once we got back, I had the opportunity to hear Evan play his stringed instruments. He can play the guitar, which is impressive, but I was really and truly impressed when he pulled out his lap steel!

The fact that he plays lap steel is awesome. The fact that he made the instrument is phenomenal. Wow.

As we were chatting before bedtime, Evan told me that he had planned to go to a bike swap in Denver the next day. I was a little bummed when I heard that, because it sounded fun, and I’ve been thinking about a new pair of shoes that are maybe warmer, or maybe better off the bike, or maybe just different than the one pair I have with me. But off to bed I went.

You can guess where this is going, I bet.

So we headed to Denver the next day, after stopping at Chris and Rita’s house (the timber-frame that Evan is helping to build)–it’s beautiful! I’m a little jealous, because Rita has a spinning and weaving loft with big windows, and there’ll be a sauna, and a woodworking shop…

Once at the bike swap, Evan found clipless pedals for his mountain bike, and a new disc for his disc brakes, and a new front brake, and a new wheelset. And I found shoes! They’re Shimano brand, and made for winter biking. Woop woop!

But with new shoes, I needed new cleats. So we went over to Salvaretti, the bike shop. Kyle, Kyle, and Scott weren’t able to help me with cleats, but they were super nice, and we talked bikes for a while, and they gave me stickers. I love stickers. Thanks, guys!

We did find a shop with the cleats I needed, and then grabbed some Mexican food for dinner. Our server, Fernando, was really nice, and I swear I saw a pro football player. Evan insists he was just a dude.

It was starting to get dark when we finally left Denver, and not a half hour out of town we ran into a complete standstill of traffic.

After waiting for about an hour, we finally reached the site of the accident. A cattle truck had tipped over on a curve, and hit the cement median. The driver was okay, but some of the cattle were killed, and they had to have a veterinarian and a lot of ranchers on site to load the cattle into smaller trailers and get the whole mess cleaned up.

What an eventful day. I fell asleep in the car, and once we got home I swore that this would have to be my last day in Salida, because I’ve been here long enough and it took a chunk out of my riding days! I’m really grateful that Evan let me stay and recuperate, and that he was willing to drive me all the way to Denver. Hooray for Salida, and hooray for Evan!

Sargents to Salida, in which I conquer the Great Divide

Miles today: 36.24
Average speed: 10.13
Max speed: 41.87

Total miles: 1522.01

As I had mentioned, it was ridiculously cold in the teepee after the propane campfire went out at 5am. Luckily, I had extra pants, mittens, and many a blanket.

Upon emerging from the tent, I saw exactly what I predicted would be coating everything: frost. The 11 degree low had coated the ground, picnic table, and RVs in a thin layer of sparkly frost. I guess it was sort of pretty, or something.

Once I had gotten the stove going to boil my quinoa, I went inside to try and dry my bibs, which were still damp from their shower the night before. The hair dryer kept overheating, so I accepted that my bibs would just be a little damp.
Of course, what with the hairdryer overheating and my taking extra long waiting for it, my quinoa had scorched to the bottom of the pot when I finally came back. I hoped that this would make for a nuttier flavor, and it did. Apparently, the burnt quinoa added just enough variety that I sort of forgot I was eating the same dish as every other morning. Sort of.
After spending forever getting ready, I realized I was still hungry, and headed inside for some biscuits and gravy. Once inside, I met Nancy and Cass, who are on the Great Divide mountain bike route, and won’t be seeing any services for a couple hundred miles… So we had a bit of a ‘shopping’ event on the bench outside.

This worked perfectly–I got to drop a bit of weight by giving some of my food to them, and would be able to replenish once I got over monarch pass, in Salida. They got to take with them some real food, instead of having to shop the shelves of the Tomichi Creek Trading Post, home of bologna, beef jerky and fritos.
They were really nice, and are hoping to get all the way to Mexico, where they may continue on.

Once we had parted ways, I began trying to start getting ready to leave. Of course, I had to say goodbye to the cows.

Then Jim, the nice gentleman I had met in Gunnison, pulled up on his Harley. He wanted to see if I’d be up for dinner in Salida, and wish me luck going up the mountain.
Once I pulled out, I was immediately told to watch for rocks. I’m still not exactly sure where they were coming from, but I didn’t really see any.

Before I started any of the real climbing, I had some things to enter. First, Gunnison county.

Then, a national forest.

I had climbed for a few miles when I saw my first sign of progress.

Though definitely difficult, the climb more than made up for itself with pungent trees and ever-changing rocks.

Every once in a while, I caught a look down, and the view was stunning every time.

Halfway up was this water pipe sticking out of the mountain. A cool refueling spot, though my water supply was very intact.

To add to the list of interesting things I saw, there were these runaway truck ramps. I guess if a truck’s brakes go out, it’ll need an up-hill place to stop it, so they stick these in after particularly steep spots to keep trucks from flying off a curve.

To be completely honest, I was embroiled in a really emotionally draining interaction the whole way up. As I climbed, I pondered a difficult situation back home, and tried to reason my way through it while doing one of the more difficult tasks of the trip, and while approaching what should have been one of the most fulfilling summits of the whole country.
The sun seemed to feel the weight of the whole thing, and as I neared the top, it was throwing long, red-glowing rays through the branches of the trees.

It was interesting to look out at other mountains and ponder that I would be above 11,000 feet, above the tops of some of the lower ones.

When I finally reached monarch pass, I didn’t do a dance or anything funky, but went inside to look for chocolate milk. The lady working the counter asked how I was doing, and after not accepting ‘I’m all right’ for an answer and pressing for a different one, I finally told her that I was actually kind of sh*tty and was now going to use her restroom.
As much as I’ve tried to keep a really positive blog, and show you guys the best stuff I’ve seen, there are some days that take it out of me in an unexplainable way. It has been really difficult for me to maintain some kind of life back home while my whole life has been on a bike for the better part of two months. I found myself reflecting on this as I cried in a bathroom stall, frustrated with my inability to cope with stress sometimes, frustrated with the fact that I had just reached the physical high point of my trip, and yet felt so completely low.
God must have heard me crying, and as I stood outside on the phone with my mom trying to make sense of anything I possibly could, the universe offered me a bit of humor.
I had been watching a chipmunk, watching me from a retaining wall, and as I got ready to say goodbye to my mom, I discovered why he was staring so intently at me.

I was blocking his dinner, the baby Ruth bar that he found in my fanny pack and shredded into while I was busy bemoaning my life.
The lesson in that? There’s ALWAYS something else going on. No matter how important I think the thing I’m dealing with is, someone else is doing something else that’s probably equally important. Like trying to eat dinner.
I was able to giggle at the chipmunk, and Jim from Gunnison rolled up as I was wiping my tears. He snapped a picture for me–and I was reminded that… I did it.

There’s still a LOT of trip left, as I’ve still got 5 states to cover, but this is the continental divide! A tangible milestone!
I contacted my host for the night, Evan, to let him know I’d be coming down the mountain shortly.
Jim had to get back to Gunnison, but made me promise I’d get a good dinner even though he wouldn’t be along.
And with that, I bundled up for the ride down. It was mighty chilly, in the shade and the breeze.

I passed the town of Monarch, with its pretty houses.

I flew past Maysville.

And after a brief stint in Poncha Springs trying to figure out where the heck I was going, I finally hit Salida.

Evan walked out his front door as I rolled up. I guess he had been waiting, and was excited to have his very first warmshowers guest.
I grabbed a quick shower, got settled into the guest bedroom, and off we went. Evan had dinner plans with some friends, and let me tag along, where I met Lani, Kendall, Jodi, and a bunch of guys whose names I don’t remember. Dang it.
It was fun meeting his friends, and I was downright starving after my big day. So I got a burger and sweet potato fries.

Hoo boy, guys. If you’re ever in Salida, CO, stop into The Fritz for a burger.
Heck, if you’re ever in Salida, you should probably just stay there. It’s a great little town.