June 13, 2010 – 54 miles

We ate a very good breakfast at the hotel this morning. While eating, we met a family that was driving around Colorado, visiting popular tourist destinations. The father was so impressed with our trip that he went out of his way to introduce me to his daughter. She seemed annoyed to be awake so early.

We checked out and rode to the Wal-Mart to resupply. The weather was amazing compared to yesterday – clear, cool, and sunny. On our way out of the store, as I packed too much food into my panniers, a group of middle-aged male road cyclists came and asked about our trip. Thinking in terms of road cycling, they thought our 50 to 60 mile days were short. They did not realize how much more difficult it is to ride that distance on dirt roads with 45+ pounds of food, water, and gear.

We left and headed for the business district where there would be bicycle shops. As we cycled there, a roadie passed us and welcomed us to Salida. I was starting to like this town already. There were people riding all kinds of bikes around town – commuter, road, and mountain bikes. I definitely felt a bike-friendly vibe.

It took a while to find the Absolute Bikes in the maze of streets. When we found it, I bought a tire boot (for patching that tear in my outer tire) and four spare tubes. I applied the boot to the rear tire and replaced the patched tubes with fresh ones. Auke ordered a new tire (to replace one that was significantly worn out) and had it shipped ahead on the route. Mathieu upgraded one of his brakes from 160 mm to 180 mm rotors – more stopping power.

We left Salida around 11:00 and had a huge climb out of the valley. On the start of the climb, a mountain biker rode next to me. We chatted about the town, my lack of experience riding in mountains, and our trip. I was riding at 100% effort while he easily paralleled me. When cars passed us, he easily sprinted ahead to make more room for them.

I soon became too exhausted to continue with the other rider, but did not want to stop. I pushed another 5 minutes before finally giving in to my legs’ desire to rest. “I have to put a foot down” was how I announced it. My temporary riding partner said he’d be thinking of us and seemingly sprinted up the mountain.

I rested while Mathieu and Auke caught up. They were smart to have taken it slower.

I was alone for the rest of this portion of the climb from Salida…and I was exhausted. I stopped multiple times to regain some strength and catch my breath. By the time I met with Mathieu and Auke, it was past 12:30 and I was getting hungry. I told them and hinted at eating once we crested the upcoming watershed divide.

It was another slow haul to get there. While I climbed, it began snowing! It was very cold at the top of the divide, so we did not eat there. We coldly descended through a rocky forest into high plains. The descent leveled and became short rolling hills. Rain from the past days made the road very muddy in places. It stuck to our tires, made our chains gritty and noisy, and sucked away at my energy.

By the time the mud section ended, Mathieu and Auke were far ahead of me. It was nearly 15:00 and I still hadn’t eaten. At each turn and hill, I hoped to see them stopped so I could have a meal. It wasn’t until 16:30 that I saw them stopped ahead.

During the 5 minute ride to them, I thought of what to say. I wanted to express my frustration without sounding whiney. Afterall, I had been riding 4 hours past being ready to eat. Once I reached my partners I said, “I’m going to eat.” No question. No complaint. No stopping me.

It turned out that Mathieu and Auke had eaten while waiting at the watershed divide and assumed I had a meal before the top.

Now, it was 17:00 and we had another 20-some miles to Hartsel. I was tired, frustrated, and low on water (and none to be found). There were storms building all around us. The situation did not look good.

The road was generally downhill and we had a slight tailwind to make the miles easier. Naturally, though, the roads were very washboarded at times.

I finally rolled onto pavement, then into Hartsel. I found two familiar bikes outside the town’s restaurant. I went in and ate two turkey sandwiches and hot coffee. After talking to Rick, our server, I found out he is a Chicago native like me. He lived in Wilmette and went to New Trier High School (class of ‘53) – then and now my high school’s biggest rival. The schools are not even two miles apart. Rick landed in Hartsel in his early 20’s and never left – except to move out of Chicago and tell his parents goodbye.

Our maps indicated there are no overnight accommodations available in Hartsel, so we were taking a risk ending our day here. It paid off, though. Rick is the Mayor of Hartsel (he claims) and said we could camp in the schoolyard.

We set up camp right next to a sign saying camping was not allowed. The temperature dropped quickly making us hurry into our warm sleeping bags.

June 12, 2010 – 82 miles

We went to a cafe to eat a hearty breakfast…and that’s what we got. I had eggs, hash browns, bacon, biscuits and gravy, a huge cinnamon roll, and lots of coffee. The weather didn’t look good – overcast skies threatening to drop rain.

As we left town, we saw the Texans tent still pitched in the park. They seem to have a very relaxed (or non-existent) schedule compared to us.

It rained lightly as we rolled easily on flat pavement. It was as though we were in some kind of paradox. The storm was moving away from us in the direction that we were riding, yet still we had a strong headwind.

I was only five minutes behind when we met at the junction of CO 15 and US 285. I bought a coffee at a gas station. Next stop: Saguache – 25 miles north on 285.

This was a very pleasant ride. We had tailwinds almost the entire way. At times I did a steady 25 mph!

In Saguache, I bought lunch and energy foods (Oreos, Dr. Pepper, and little brownie snacks, and trail mix). We still had 40 miles and a mountain pass between us and Salida.

I ate and phoned home. When I was talking to my father, he got online and checked my SPOT to see (down to streetview) exactly where I was.

Mathieu and Auke found the local library and were getting caught up on internet things. I called my mother (she wasn’t home when I called my father) while waiting for them.

It was past 15:00 before we rode out of town. Right away, I saw a storm brewing to the south of us, heading our direction. It looked like it would rain heavily and soon, so I cleverly put on my rain jacket.

The wind from the storm was blowing right to left for us. It was so strong that at times it tossed me from the right edge of the shoulder nearly into the traffic lane.

Our road slowly curved to the left, meaning we would get to enjoy the wind at our back. Still, the storm had not hit us yet. So much for my preemptive rain protection. With the tailwind, I easily rode the remaining miles to our next meeting place – a roadside coffee shop. I had another coffee and a piece of pie. A motorist came in to ask for directions. He had no idea where he was or where he came from. He had to be asked “did you just come over a big mountain?” (our upcoming pass) to figure out his direction. It was beyond our comprehension to be so clueless to and unaware of the surroundings. If it happened to us, we could easily get in serious trouble.

We left the cafe and started the long, slow ascent up a valley to Poncha Pass. There were ominously dark clouds on the pass, from which lightening occasionally flashed. Low clouds poured over the mountains to our left and right like fog out of a bucket of dry ice. “We are riding into hell,” Auke noted. How right he would be…

Although we were heading the same direction as before, the wind was no longer helping – it was now blowing directly in our faces…hard. 35 mph gusting to 50, if I had to guess.

With my flat font end, I had difficulty keeping the bike moving forward. When I lost momentum, I’d pull the handlebars one way of the other, and then the wind would pull me further to that side. With traffic on one side and a guardrail on the other, I had to put a foot down often to keep from running into either.

The temperature dropped quickly, so I stopped to put full rain and wind gear on. I continued riding/walking. A lot of drivers gave me sympathetic waves and head nods.

I was going nowhere fast and needed quick energy. I ate a dozen Oreos from a pack I bought in Saguache. Up ahead, I saw a green sign…the kind that denotes the top of a pass! I rode to it and read “Poncha Pass 5 miles ahead.” That was disappointing.

I kept my cycle of riding and walking. I didn’t know if I could make it all the way to Salida. I constantly looked on the side of the road for places to pitch a tent just in case. The few ranches and houses I passed, I judged whether they would let me camp in their yard for the night.

I rode on, though. The wind lessened in intensity and the grade leveled. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my neck. It felt like a pinched nerve – probably caused from gripping and pulling on the handlebars so tightly. The pain came and went. At times, it was so sudden and intense that I had to stop riding.

After one last push, I finally made it to the top! I ate more Oreos and briefly shed my rain/wint layers. I needed to dry out before descending to Poncha Springs. Without having to pedal, there was no way of keeping warm – not when riding 20 to 30 mph with temperatures in the low 50’s.

As I descended, the valley in which Poncha Springs and Salida resided came into view. It was filled with dark rain clouds. At the base of the descent, I found Mathieu and Auke waiting in a gas station. As soon as I arrived, we continued the last 6 miles to Salida. It started raining, making the miles very unpleasant.

We checked into a Day’s Inn and shed our wet clothes. The desk clerk was from Poland and ensured us he would give us a good price because my European partners. I picked up a pizza from Dominos and ate it in the comfort of our warm, dry room. Tomorrow, we will visit a bike shop – the first since Silver City, NM. I can’t wait to get new tubes.

June 11, 2010 – 49 miles

We ate an excellent breakfast at a small restaurant in town this morning. Auke showed up late due to a flat tire which occurred overnight – his first since the two he had in Tucson. It was odd because he thoroughly cleaned his bike, tires included, just yesterday.

After eating, we climbed Stunner Pass. It was slow for me – riding with a full stomach isn’t comfortable. Part of the way up the pass, I stopped to take a picture of the valley in which Platoro resides.

We descended the opposite side of Stunner Pass into the shade of the mountain. I was chilled after working up a sweat climbing. As we lost altitude, a mountain with eroded sides, exposing colorful oxidized minerals, came into view.

At the bottom of the descent we crossed a river and immediately began climbing again. I rode ahead while Mathieu waited for Auke, who was taking pictures of the colorful landscape. The caught up and overtook me very soon. We would meet again near Elwood Pass – 10 miles (almost entirely up) ahead.

I could not get into good rhythm, so I found an alternate means of keeping my legs turning. With 6 miles to go, I stopped for a small stack. I ate one Oreo from a pack of 6 that I bought in Platoro then kept riding. I told myself I would eat one cookie at each mile mark until Elwood. This turned out to be a bad strategy as I watched the odometer slowly increment. Sometimes I would not look for a while, and then guess the mileage. Often I would guess a higher number than my actual distance, making it seem even longer of a climb.

Just before Elwood, woods gave way to a high open meadow. The Texans had camped here the night before – they were cold the entire time and were nearly blown off the mountain, they said.

When I arrived (fashionably late) at Elwood, I snacked and rested. After a few minutes, we were riding again, this time to Summitville – an abandoned mining town. The mine now leaks heavy metals and toxic chemicals into the surrounding streams.

On the way there, Mathieu’s tire went flat. I stayed behind to offer moral support as he replaced the tube. He sure picked a bad place for a flat – very cold and windy!

Afterwards, we rode on toward Summitville. Within a few miles, his tire went flat again. This time Auke was there, so I rode ahead up a steep climb which leveled out at Summitville. The town wasn’t quite as abandoned as I expected. People were working to clean the mine’s toxic runoff.

Past Summitville we had a 5 mile climb to Indiana Pass. At 11,910 feet, it is the highest point on the Great Divide. The first half mile was extremely steep. I dismounted the bike and pushed up this section. Things didn’t get easier for me even after the grade became rideable again. Maybe it was the altitude. Maybe it was something I ate. I felt dizzy and nauseous. I alternated between riding and walking often on my way up to Indiana Pass.

Then finally, I saw the top! I got back on the bike and tried to convince myself to ride the final half mile without stopping. I didn’t go too far before stopping again. As I rested, gathering strength for a final push, a hunter drove by. We talked for a while about the trip and the route. He seemed very impressed and told me his son is a Navy Seal and the toughest guy he knows…and he wouldn’t be able to what we were doing. Before driving away, he asked if I was hungry. “What do you have?” He gave me a bag of trail mix!

When he left, I stood and ate handfuls of mix, reflecting on what he said. Now I was motivated to finish the climb without rest. And I did.

The actual top was anti-climactic. There were no markers or signs indicating the pass. Nothing but cold wind, snow drifts, and sparse trees. I took some pictures, a short video, then began descending. The hard part of the day was over. All that was left was 25 miles to Del Norte, which was 4,000 feet below where I stood.

After a few miles of coasting downhill, I met up with Mathieu and Auke. As I ate lunch, storm clouds started coming over the mountain we just conquered. That ended my meal quickly.

I put a rain jacked on and began descending with the others. In an every-man-for-himself style, Del Norte was our next meeting point.

It started raining, lightly at first, and then harder. I stopped to put rain pants on. As I did, Auke passed me. The road was loose gravel, which is hard for Mathieu with his trailer.

Going down the road, I could see tire marks in the gravel. At the turn of a switchback, I saw tire marks leading straight into an aspen stand – like someone forgot to turn. I slowed, expecting to see Auke and his bike in a messy heap. I did not, though. Inspecting further, I saw that right at the edge of the road, the tracks made a sharp turn heading down the switchback. Auke had stopped at the edge to take a picture.

As I continued downward, the temperatures rose and the rain subsided. Gravel turned to pavement for the last 10 miles, which made fast riding easier and safer.

Right where the route entered Del Norte is a coffee shop/grocery store called the Organic Peddler. On the roof was a bicycle, so we decided this was a good place to wait for Mathieu.

It was a very hippy-ish place. The people working in the shop knew about the route – lots of riders have stopped for food and drinks in years past.

Mathieu arrived unusually late. He had mechanical problems with his disc brakes – not good on a 25 mile gravelly descent. We started thinking of where to spend the night. The Organic Peddler had a small cabin/house available. Rain was coming soon, so we took it. As we hauled our gear inside, it started pouring.

After the rain stopped, we rode through town to find Gary Blakely – a guy who offers basic bike repair and sells some spare parts. I bought two new tubes to replace some of my patched ones.

Afterwards, we stopped at Subway for dinner. While eating, the Texans rode in and joined us. They are camping in the local park tonight. It looked like more rain and wind was in the forecast, so I was happy to be inside.

The ride back to the Peddler wasn’t fun. It was cold and windy. The cold soda I drank with dinner didn’t help either…nor did the rain that came upon us.

Before going to bed, Auke reminded us of the dilemma we faced. For him to photograph the national parks, we would have to up the mileage or take paved shortcuts. We decided to ride 80 miles on pavement to Salida tomorrow. It would bypass 3 days of on-route riding.

I slept well (on a cot mattress on the floor) knowing Indiana Pass was tackled. Afterall, it’s all downhill from here, right?

June 10, 2010 – 17 miles

Today, we woke up later and broke camp slower than usual. Platoro, only 17 miles away, was our target. We originally planned to have a full rest day there, but we could not manage the distance yesterday. This short day would substitute as a rest day.

Platoro is 1,000 feet higher than our campsite. Over 17 miles, we didn’t think it would be too hard. The gravel road followed a stream all the way to Platoro, which mane for nice scenery. Unfortunately, loose gravel made it a slow grind for me. The last miles were also straight into a fierce headwind.

When I made it to Platoro, Mathieu told me his altimeter device counted 2,000 feet of climbing. This it typical for the roads we ride on. There are so many short ups and downs that the total ascent is far greater than the net ascent.

Mathieu and Auke already rented a cabin for the evening – and it looked fantastic. It had 4 beds, an open second floor, full kitchen, common room, indoor plumbing, and a porch with an amazing view.

I cleaned and tuned my bike and patched some punctured tubes on the porch. At 10,000 feet, the wind was brisk but the sun warmed us well.

The Texans arrived in the afternoon and hung out with us for a while. A little later, a solo cyclist w/ a BOB rode into town. Nadia White is tracing her great grandmother’s westward journey as a pioneer. She keeps a blog at travelswithjosie.com.

The three BOB-pulling cyclists decided to put more mileage in for the day and rode out of Platoro into some strong headwinds. I was glad not to have to ride any further today.

For dinner, we had homemade burgers, fries, and a dessert of pie – slightly overpriced, but very good.

Back in the cabin, we started discussing long term plans/goals for the trip. Auke really wants to see the Tetons, Yellowstone, and Glacier National Park – spending multiple days in each. Our place would not accommodate that, so we might need to take shortcuts off route, increase mileage, or both. We all have different goals and abilities, which causes some tensions within our group.

June 09, 2010

I ate an extra large breakfast this morning – I knew it would be a tough day. We were scheduled to climb to 11,000 ft. via Brazos Ridge, which is known for bad road conditions.

From out campsite, we gradually climbed on steep gravel roads. Mathieu stopped to filter water at the first stream we crossed – I pedaled ahead as stopping to wait would only put me further behind.

While riding, I frequently glanced over my shoulder expecting to see Mathieu ready to pass me. When I ran into Auke waiting at the Lagunitas campground, Mathieu had not passed me. Maybe I am getting stronger, I thought.

10 minutes later, Mathieu showed up. He was late because he had a flat…so it wasn’t me being stronger. We decided to meet at the top of Brazos Ridge – 5 miles ahead and 1,000 ft. up.

The scenery was spectacular! At the top, a snowdrift blocked our path. With some trailblazing, we found a way around. Over the next half mile Mathieu and I walked down a steep/rocky section of trail. Somehow Auke descended it on his bike.

We dropped about a 1,000 ft. then leveled out for a while. Mathieu stopped to filter water again, but his filter wasn’t working. While I filled his bottles, two dirt bikers rode up to us. They were familiar with the area so we asked about the trail conditions ahead. A short amount of climbing then a downhill, they said.

I definitely did not consider the climb short! It seems that people on motorized vehicles are too far disconnected from the road to answer questions of condition, distance, and grade. The roads were horribly rutted.

After a lot of up and down, I finally descended into the pleasant Apache Canyon. This was my last look at New Mexico as the Colorado border was just ahead.

Just before it, I joined Mathieu who was waiting. He said Auke rode ahead – probably to Horca. He is a cyclist and wants to ride on and on – waiting for me is the opposite. I was exhausted, though. We’ve had 6 hard days without rest. Plus, it was close to 15:30 and I hadn’t eaten lunch yet.

We rested a while then crossed into CO. We knew a few miles ahead was a paved highway we would go on. Rounding a corner, we saw an 18-wheeler perched high on a mountain. The last mile before pavement certainly was not easy!

At the top, we found Auke and two other cyclists who were pulling BOB trailers. Bryan and Cody are two Texan college students riding the Great Divide South to North. They started on the border the day after me and said they had seen and followed my tracks.

We rode fast downhill on the highway and turned off where our maps indicate a restaurant/bar. It was closed…the boarded-up windows type of closed.

The Texans stopped to cook lunch there – we decided to ride on to Horca. There is a restaurant/grocery there, but between us and it was La Manga pass.

In Horca, we found the restaurant also closed…we tried the grocery. It was open, but unfortunately was understocked. Apparently we arrived very early in the tourist season. It was almost 17:00 now and I still hadn’t had a lunch. I bought Graham Crackers and jelly to make PB&J cracker sandwiches.

As we ate, Cody and Bryan rolled in. They joined us and downed some beers. While we ate and they drank, a dirt biker – Sanjay – arrived. He was also riding the Great Divide, then continuing to Prudhoe Bay, AK. He started in Antelope Wells two days ago! We started two weeks ago!

Sanjay said mountain biking the route was the “real” way to do this trip – we said the Continental Divide Trail hikers were doing it the “real” way.

It was getting late quickly and we needed to decide what to do with the rest of the day. 23 miles separated us and Platoro. Auke wanted to push it to there tonight – as did I, but being exhausted with limited hours of light it was out of the picture.

We camped 6 miles down the road at the Spectacle Lake campground. An hour after we arrived and set up camp, Cody & Bryan rolled in. We camped together.

July 18, 2010

Well, I made it to Banff yesterday evening after pedaling 2,790 miles over 57 days. My adventure is not quite finished yet, though. We are going to continue north to Jasper AB – another three riding days through spectacular landscapes.

The scenery here is already amazing – possibly the best on the route. Unfortunately, I do not have the access to upload photos from the past few days. Maybe when I get to Jasper…

When time and computer access permits, I will continue to post journal entries from the trip. My apologies for being so far behind – each entry takes a lot of time and energy, both of which are often in short supply.

June 08, 2010

After breaking camp this morning, as I was walking my bike to the road, I found an unopened can of beer buried in the dirt. “It’s good calories,” Mathieu said, so I put it in my pannier.

We rode on pavement to Canon Plaza where our maps say “Snack stand on left may be open.” It was not open…this was just the start of a bad day. Auke posed in front of the stand while Mathieu took a picture.

The pavement turned to gravel and we started to climb switchbacks, giving us a good view over the valley town.

I found the guys waiting for me at the top of the climb. We decided our next meeting point would be 8 miles ahead. Soon enough, I was riding alone again. I simply cannot keep pace with Mathieu or Auke on the climbs.

I really do not mind riding alone – I am not forced to push myself to stay with a stronger rider or slow for a weaker one. I can stop when I want, pee when I want (which is often since I drink so much water), and there is no one around to see the frustration on my face from a tough climb, bad road, lack of energy, headwinds, etc.

At our meeting point, I found the guys waiting again. I ate a granola bar and drank the beer – it was 9:30.

The next section was a tough uphill to the first of two 10,000 ft summits. Close to the top, I passed a cool looking ranch. Just beyond it was an old abandoned cabin, presumably used my miners. There was a mine going into the mountain, hidden by overgrown shrubs. I looked inside (and wanted to go in, but didn’t) and continued on my way.

I had to walk the next section to the top. As I was pushing, I saw other bike shoe footprints in the gravel – so I wasn’t the only one struggling.

At the top, we again decided on a new meeting point – the Hopewell Lake campground, 13 miles ahead. This was a very tough section for me. I arrived at the campground 45 minutes after the other two.

I made stuffing and chocolate pudding to re-energize. It was too much to eat and I was uncomfortably stuffed for the next few hours.

Out of Hopewell, we descended on the paved US 64. I reached 40.2 mph! We turned off the highway and soon started climbing uphill at 5 mph. What a difference! One minute, 20 mph feels slow…the next, 6 mph is fast.

It was a difficult climb to the top. My stomach was overstuffed (borderline uber-stuffed) and it was quite warm outside. I rode slowly and stopped to rest often in the shade of pine trees.

We met at the top and I informed they guys of my exhaustion. I did not know how much further I could go.

We rode a short downhill, then continued up again. The landscape changed from forest to high plains. In the distance, we could see the snow-covered peaks (presumably across the CO border).

We turned west and descended. The road was loose gravel and we had a strong headwind. We had to pedal hard to go anywhere. When we crossed the Rio San Antonio, I stopped to filter water. The mosquitoes were horrible!

Shortly past the river was a steep climb on more loose gravel. When I got to the base of the climb, I could see Auke at the top and Mathieu pushing his bike up the last 100 meters.

After such a tough morning, I couldn’t muster the strength to mash the pedals uphills. It was a long walk to the top. There wasn’t even a descent to enjoy. We stayed level on the frustratingly loose gravel and still had a terribly headwind.

Mathieu and Auke were nowhere to be found, so I continued. I was getting increasingly frustrated with everything. I really wanted to stop and pitch my tent at every patch of flat grass I passed. But my partners were up ahead somewhere, so I had to continue.

Even at my breaking point, I had a huge smile on my face when I turned a corner and saw Auke sitting by his bike. Unfortunately, this was not going to be our campsite for the night. We rode another painful mile to the campsite. We assembled our shelters and cooked much-deserved meals.

While eating, we heard strange grunting/growling noises in the nearby woods. It wasn’t anything we had heard before…could it be bears?

It made us nervous for a while until we figured out it was cattle. I slept easier knowing that.

June 07, 2010

I slept on the couch in the hotel room last night. For that reason, I paid a smaller portion of the cost. Good deal, I think.

We slept in this morning (6:30 for us is sleeping late). After slowly getting ready, we rode to the only grocery store in town – a Route 66 gas station. There was a wide selection of foods, but none were good for camping. I’ll have to ration my food for the next few days.

We left Abiquiu with the intention of only riding the 20 paved miles to El Rito. When we got there, we were disappointed. It is not a place to spend a rest day. We used the computers and ate lunch at the local community college and hit the road again at 16:00. We would try to get in another 20 miles.

We made the distance by 18:45, but found ourselves without a place to camp. We continued on pavement, searching for any decent place to set up three tent (decent means public land, away from the main road, and preferably flat).

While on the road, we rode past a truck sitting idle on the side of the road. Auke rode over to ask if there were any places to camp in the area. The driver was taking a piss and, by the way he talked, was quite drunk.

We turned off the pavement onto a forest road (wild camping is allowed in national forests). A few hundred meters down it, we found a flat area to camp. We set up camp just before dark. I hurriedly cooked a pot of stuffing and ate it while walking – walking was the only way to keep mosquitoes off me.

So much for a rest day…

June 06, 2010

I woke up at 6:00 today, cooked breakfast, and dried my sleeping bag. Good thing my air mattress held air last night – the ground was very cold this morning.

I was the last to be ready – it took me longer than usual to get ready. Still, we were riding by 7:45.

The first 4 miles were on steep, rocky, rutted roads. I pushed the bike much of that distance.

At the top , we reached 10,400 ft. I could really feel the altitude’s affect on my body. Any extra effort while riding uphill made me breathe heavy. I had to control my pace and effort to keep from hyperventilating.

After the summit, we started downward for a while, only to climb above 10,000 feet 10 miles later. It was lunch time, but no one else was hungry, so I quickly ate trail mix and a granola bar. From here, we had a long, steep, rocky descent. It was so bad that at times I had to go under 5 mph. Any faster and I couldn’t control the bike and I feared the intense vibrations may crack the welds on my frame or racks.

To make matters worse, a storm was brewing behind us. The storm made me want to ride fast, but the rough terrain did not allow it. I am surprised to have made it down with my bike in one piece.

When we first started the descent, we agreed to meet 20 miles ahead at a critical turn. Looking back, this was not smart – especially with the terrain and coming storm. I knew I was very alone on the descent – the others went faster down the initial rough section. Being in back, if I fell I would be alone for quite some time before anyone realized.

I made it down fine, though – singing Iron Maiden and Epica songs to distract myself and alert bears of my presence (possibly I wasn’t even in bear territory…but I wanted to be on the safe side).

Every few minutes, I would look back to check the progress of the storm. The thunderheads kept getting bigger, but hardly closed distance on me.

Eventually, it blew close enough for me to hear rolling thunder. It was not very threatening (no visible lightening), so I continued riding. When it started raining, I took shelter under trees and ate some food. I though the storm would blow over, but it did not. It seemed not to move – only continuously threaten me. When I realized the storm would not pass, I continued riding.

I arrived at our meeting place, but no one was there. It was an exposed area – not a place to be during a thunderstorm, so I assumed they rode the last 8 miles to Abiquiu. Tire marks confirmed my assumption. Mathieu and Auke actually left a note on a sign at the intersection, but I did not see it.

The last miles to town were all downhill, but washboarded. I can not imagine doing this day backward. The Tour Divide rookies are in for a surprise!

I met the guys sitting outside a gas station. Mathieu jumped up and went inside the store to get me a Dr. Pepper. They had been waiting an hour.

We rested, drank sodas, and ate chips before riding another mile to the Abiquiu Inn. Its the only place in town to stay indoors, so it was very expensive. It was very fancy, also. Too upscale for us dirty bikers. I bet this place is the nicest hotel we stay in on the entire trip.

As I lay on the couch, writing this entry, I noticed the coffee maker is the same model as the one I used in school. Just for the memories, I had to make myself a cup. Mathieu also bought some Budweiser, so I drank one also. This is luxury…I cannot get used to this, otherwise I may not want to finish the trip.

Tomorrow, our supposed rest day, we may ride 20 miles to El Rito, NM. The hotel should be cheaper and there may be a computer I could use to post updates. I am very far behind.