June 21, 2010 – 77 miles

I was slow to get packed this morning. Probably because I subconsciously did not want to venture into the Great Divide Basin – 135 miles of nothingness.

When I was finally ready to depart the hotel, I had about 10 liters of water. That’s 22 pounds of water!!!

The first 40 miles were paved, so I was able to get into a decent rhythm…until the winds started picking up. It was a head/cross wind.

Our route alternated between going north and west, so the winds sometimes helped, and sometimes hurt.

We put in 55 miles before lunch. As I was about to reach our lunch meeting point, a TD racer passed. I gave a thumbs up and offered a “good job, man.”

After lunch we had very strong headwinds. Until we turned north again and had tail/cross winds.

Our goal for the evening was Arapahoe Creek – a possible water source. Just before getting there, a group of 3 TD racers passed. I turned my camera on in time to get video of them. They were in a hurry and did not have time to stop and chat.

Arapahoe Creek was an oasis in the Basin. The water is cool, clear, and flowing! We pitched our tents right next to the creek on a small patch of sand.

Even after doing 77 miles, we arrived here very early in the evening. It was nice and relaxing to cook and set up camp without rushing to beat darkness.

June 20, 2010 – 28 miles

For the first time in a few nights, our tents were not covered with condensation or frost. The warmer morning made breaking camp easier and more pleasant.

We ate quickly so we could get to Rawlins to find Auke. It was only 25 paved miles away. Mathieu rode ahead of me to reach Rawlins faster. During those miles, I thought about how I wanted the rest of my trip to play out.

Either with Mathieu and Auke at a faster pace or alone at a more relaxed pace. I was leaning toward going solo.

When I arrived in Rawlins, I found the bikes outside Huckleberry’s Cafe. I ordered a breakfast burrito and a 32 oz. milkshake. Both were excellent. I’ve been craving a milkshake for quite some time.

As I ate, the three of us discussed our future as a group. I thought it would be best for me to lag behind and continue at my own pace. I was tired of being waited upon and being pulled along.

My plan was to wait until tomorrow morning to ride through the Great Divide Basin, and do it in two days. Afterward, I would reduce my daily mileage.

Mathieu said he’d also like to spend the night in Rawlins. Auke was okay with the plan so far.

We got a hotel, went out to eat, and then went shopping. When I arrived at the store, I saw a guy in a bike jersey on a payphone. I looked at his bike and recognized it as Mathew Lee’s – the famous Tour Divide racer.

We talked for a while when he got off the phone. His goal this year is to break 17 days. He said he was a few hours behind schedule.

I picked up his bike and found it to be about the weight of my unloaded bike! Unfortunately I did not have a camera with me, so I did not get a picture.

His one hour break expired and was soon on his way again.

After shopping, I met a Trans Am rider riding from East to West. We chatted a bit then he went on his way. I went to the hotel and informed the others that I’d met Matt Lee.

Over the next week, we’ll be crossing paths with the Tour Divide racers. It’s something to look forward to.

June 19, 2010 – 70 miles

I woke up relieved to have slept through the night without incident (except having to pee at 03:00). I felt good and had an appetite – almost back to normal.

We left out primitive campsite and continued descending on the same loose gravel roads from yesterday. The miles passed moderately easily. Occasionally there would be a short steep uphill that was challenging due to the gravel.

At one point, I topped a rise and a mansion of a ranch came into. It was the famed Three Forks Ranch. It had acres of manicured lawns, a winding river with occasional man-made ponds, and a helicopter!

I rode closer to the compound and met up with Mathieu and Auke. They were talking with a fishing guide who works there. Supposedly, the ranch is owned by the guy who invented the non-CFC aerosol cans. The clients are mostly millionaires who are willing to pay $1,200 per night to be pampered and fly fish. After some pictures, we left.

I’m content carrying all the necessities on my bike.

10 miles further we rejoined the main route on WY highway 70. We were now in Wyoming! It looked and felt like we were back in the deserts of New Mexico. We ate lunch on the side of the road before riding the 13 miles on the highway.

I left a few minutes before the others. I reached a cattle roadblock and passed through it alone. There were guardrails on both sides of the road, so until they ended I seemed to be a cowboy herding cattle.

Soon enough, Auke then Mathieu passed me. Mathieu mentioned I was doing well given the circumstances. I didn’t feel well, though.

Over the next few miles, I drank my remaining water. Luckily there was a small roadside stream where I could refill my containers. My water filter broke just after filling one bottle with a liter of water. Luckily, I have purification tablets with me.

I got back on my bike, once again feeling less confident in my gear. The miles until meeting the others were terrible for me. I frequently alternated between resting and riding.

When I arrived at a scenic overlook where Mathieu and Auke were waiting…they had there for a long time and looked frustrated. “What happened?”, Auke asked. I explained that I stopped to filter water. “That’s it?” He was very upset about waiting for me so long. I can understand, though. Waiting and not knowing if I’ll show in 5 minutes or 45. He was tired of waiting because it may interfere with his grand plans of spending multiple days in a few National Parks for photography. I’m here to enjoy and experience the surroundings. At this point, the gap between our goals became too wide. I’m tired of high mileage days.

We had already done 45 miles today. If Auke were alone, he would ride the remaining 55 miles to Rawlings, WY today. It was too much for me so we picked a dispersed campsite on the map 25 miles ahead. I could make it there, but no further. I guessed I’d arrive close to sundown.

What was happening to our group? Will our goals and riding styles eventually cause a split?

We started riding again – each alone. I rode through Aspen Alley and was not impressed. Maybe it was just my mood, though. I started thinking of how I wanted my trip to play out. Should I opt out of the group and take it slower? I passed a slow river and thought if I were solo, I’d take a break and jump in. Maybe call it a day and make camp here. Instead, I had another 20+ miles late into the evening.

For the rest of the ride, I though about whether it was worthwhile to say with Mathieu and Auke. It’s nothing personal, just that we have differing goals.

My thoughts were interrupted when I left the Medicine Bow National Forest. Suddenly there were no trees. Just vast stretches of barren plains. Somewhere 15 miles ahead was the Middlewood Hill Continental Divide crossing, followed by the dispersed campsite at Sage Creek.

Leaving the National Forest, I stood at 8,000 ft. I descended 500 ft over the next few miles then climbed back to 8,000 ft again. Up 100, down 75 seemed the trend. After far more climbing than I expected, I reached the Divide!

The roads were very loose gravel and extremely dusty when traffic passed.

5 miles downhill to a water source, a hot meal, and a warm sleeping bag. No problem. I zoomed down the backside of the crossing – probably faster than was safe, but that didn’t bother me. I was determined to get to camp as quickly as possible as it was 30 minutes until sundown.

I rounded a corner and saw the creek far below. One last fast decent and I was there.

I picked up speed and kept my eyes on the ground just in front of me. Hitting a rut, gravel pile, or large rock would be disastrous at my speed. Then, suddenly, I heard a familiar sound from my rear wheel – the air quickly escaping from the tube. I applied the brakes as quickly as I could without losing traction. I laid the bike and pumped air into the tire. Maybe I could limp the last mile without replacing the tube. No go. The air immediately escaped through the puncture. 20 minutes later, I started descending again…but slower.

The bridge over Sage Creek was under construction and the campsite was nowhere to be found. I filled my water bags in the muddy creek and rode forward to where Mathieu was waiting.

This certainly isn’t the best campsite, being right next to the road. It has the same feel as our BLM campsite between Grants and Cuba.

Mathieu explained that Auke wasn’t here when he arrived, meaning he likely rode some of the remaining miles to Rawlins. We set up camp and cooked in silence just before dark. We were both thinking about the fallout experienced earlier.

Tomorrow could be an interesting day – it will probably be the day we decide whether we will continue to ride together or split.

June 18, 2010 – 42 miles

I slept until I felt well enough to stand without getting sick again. We packed slowly and were on the road by 11:30. First stop…Subway.

I was hungry, but nervous about eating. After last night, I was under the impression my body didn’t want food in it right now. Riding without food in my stomach is not an option, so I chanced it with a footlong and a soda. It stayed down!

I still didn’t feel 100%, but was fit enough to ride. No idea how far I can make it, though.

Out of Steamboat we followed CO 129 to Clark. There was moderate traffic with intermittent shoulders. Lots of cyclists passed going the other direction.

The sun was strong and hot in the valley. I occasionally needed to stop and sit to overcome nausea.

In Clark, we visited a well-stocked convenience store. It seemed like all the motorists on this road stop here. I recognized many of the cars parked here as ones that passed me earlier.

I bought and slowly drank an Arizona Green Tea. We discussed our options for the rest of the day and decided to take the Columbine Alternate. It avoided a large climb and allowed us to ride further on pavement.

We had the choice of staying in Steamboat Lake State Park, a lodge in Columbine, or wild camping on national forest land.

We made it to the state park early in the evening and decided to ride further to Columbine. The lodge was fully booked and the grocery store closed. Option three it is, then.

The pavement ended past Columbine as we forked left onto loose gravel. From here, we were going mostly downhill which, with the gravel, was very slippery.

After a few miles we found a dry clearing to call home for the night. We pitched tents and cooked food. I opted to eat a Mountain House meal – one that I have carried since Antelope Wells, NM! The food stayed down, but I wasn’t feeling 100%.

I would have preferred to sleep inside tonight to get a better night’s sleep. Not to mention avoiding the nightmare of becoming sick again while in the tent.

June 17, 2010

Very lazy day today.

I cleaned my bike very thoroughly, relocated to another hotel in town, and tried (unsuccessfully) to bring my blog up-to-date.

I ate a lot of food…too much food:
Trail mix, turkey stuffing, Dr Pepper, Pringles, dried fruit, and other things.

Before bed, I decided to clean my camelbak bladder. After all, it was filled with two day old unfiltered stream water. I unintentionally drank some of it in the cleaning process.

Night fell and I went to bed – happily without a stomach ache this time. Little did I know this would be my worse night yet.

I woke up at 1:30 to a churning stomach. I went to the toilet thinking if I sat there long enough my troubles would pass. I stood up and flushed, ready for more sleep…but my body was not done purging itself.

Standing up made me dizzy and soon enough I was on my knees puking into the toilet. When the session ended, I was relieved and glad it was over. At least I can sleep better now, I though.

At the sink, I drank some water and brushed my teeth. I waited a bit before laying back in my cot just to make sure I was finished. I was not…

Another round of puking followed. Afterwards, I went back to bed and slept.

An hour later, I woke with a familiar feeling. I barely made it back to the sink this time. I knelt there for an eternity. Puking…waiting…then puking more. My stomach was empty, but the heaving continued until my body hurt.

When it finally subsided, I ripped the sheets off the bed and slept on the floor. I woke a few hours later and felt good enough to more back to the bed.

June 16, 2010

As we broke camp this morning, we heard loud grunts of cattle in the distance. They were being herded down the mountain we soon had to climb. We switched from packing hurriedly to being more relaxed.

Immediately out of out campground, we crossed a bridge over the Colorado River. We were stopped on one side. The herd of cattle was on the other. They acted stubbornly and did not to want to cross the bridge. After watching the ranchers struggle, we crossed and started climbing.

The road became steep right away. Based on the map elevation profiles, this was the easier section of the climb.

Part of the way up, Mathieu realized a part of his odometer was missing and went back to check the campground. I’m not sure if I would have turned back no matter what I forgot.

I managed the less-steep part of the climb decently. That changed when I reached the more difficult section. I stopped at a section of road that seemingly went straight to a mountain then switchbacked steeply up it. I saw Auke stopped high above me, likely taking pictures from his vantage point.

I turned around and looked back at Inspiration Point, which we descended yesterday. We already were at the same elevation and had more climbing ahead.

I tried to ride further, but my legs wouldn’t do it. Mathieu slowly passed me just before I started walking. I pushed my bike up the the switchbacks for the next few miles – my longest walking stretch yet.

When I finally reached the top, I was in awe at how much I had ascended.

Even though I reached the top of the epic climb, there was only a short downhill. 1,000 feet of climbing followed in the form of quarter to half mile short ups and downs. They were steep and rocky and the descents usually ended in sharp turns, killing all momentum.

As I left the rollers behind, my water levels neared empty. I was very far behind the others so I decided not to stop to filter water. I was mentally beat from walking so long. I also had not payed much attention to my odometer or where I was on my map.

At one intersection, I was at a complete loss as to which way to turn. I stopped and tried to rationalize which crossroad I was at. Without the odometer, I was guessing. I dismounted my bike, and scanned the rocky road for mountain bike tires, though there were none to be found. I made up my mind to go in one direction. Before I left, I filled my camelbak bladder straight from a stream just in case my guess was incorrect. The water was quick and clear, so I didn’t bother filtering it…

Minutes later, I noticed my bike feeling very bouncy – indicating a leak in my rear tube. I decided I would ride it out as long as I could. I had a feeling I was approaching a highway the route intersected.

About a quarter mile before it, the tire was too flat to ride on. So I walked the remaining distance. Mathieu was waiting for me there. Auke had ridden ahead. He had ridden the entire climb! I felt embarrassed to appear out of the woods walking my bike.

Mathieu waited as I fixed the flat and ate some quick energy. We rode on the highway together for a few miles before turning off road again. I needed to stop for a proper meal, so we agreed it was best to meet 45 miles ahead in Steamboat. Since I would undoubtedly be very late into town, Mathieu and Auke would leave instructions in the Subway where we’d be staying.

Mathieu rode ahead at his stronger pace and I was left alone again. The hard part of the day was almost over – a few more miles to Lynx Pass, then 40 miles and 2,000 ft down to Steamboat. Just before Lynx, I stopped for food and rest. I felt relieved knowing no one was waiting for me.

Summiting the pass was easier than expected. I sung aloud as I coasted down the other side. The miles went by quickly.

The route rejoined pavement 15 miles before steamboat. A strong tailwind pushed me into town. Cruising easily at 25 mph felt good!

Once into town, I rode directly to the Subway. Mathieu and Auke were still there. I ate a sandwich before we searched for a hotel. We picked a LaQuinta for one night – the rates were too high for tomorrow night due to an event in town.

I had a taste for fresh fruits/vegetables, so Mathieu and I walked to the Wal-Mart. There was no produce section…so I bought junk food instead. I ate too much of it and went to bed with a stomachache.

June 15, 2010

We were happy to wake up to sun this morning. It is a long ride to Radium. 76 miles with a few thousand feet of climbing. It is too much for me to handle, so I decided to replace 40 of the first unpaved miles with the more direct CO Highway 9. Mathieu and Auke will stay on the main route and we plan to meet where the routes intersect.

From town, we continued north on the bike path to Silverthorne. Clear skies, cool temps, and spectacular views of surrounding peaks the Dillon Reservoir made riding fun and easy. Even after we turned off the bike path onto highway 9, it was enjoyable – we had good shoulders and a slight downhill.

We regrouped after 13 miles on the highway – I go straight on pavement; they turn east and off road. Mathieu mentioned knee pain and did not want do to the off road section. So we all went straight on the highway. Unfortunately, at this point the shoulder went from four feet to three inches and we had to deal with RV’s, 18-wheelers, and fast traffic.

A few miles ahead, the road forked. We could bypass a busy/narrow section with a quieter (yet longer) detour to the town of Heeney. After a short sprint to the fork, we rode more relaxed on the quiet detour. 4 miles passed before a construction truck pulled up. The driver said the road was closed ahead and they wouldn’t stop work to let us through.

I was frustrated for having to backtrack – especially to a busy road. I wanted to see if I could get through the construction, but the others decided to turn back. If I was denied at the road block, I’d be an extra half hour behind.

Backtracking seemed to go slower than the first time riding the road. Probably because I was frustrated.

The busy/narrow section was just as bad as I imagined – cars passing close at high speed and no shoulder. There were a few short climbs that unnerved me. When climbing, I tend to swerve to keep my balance. I was very tense whenever cars passed during these sections.

The traffic eventually lessened, but shoulders never returned. The roads were just windy/hilly enough to block sight of Mathieu and Auke, who were in their usual position…ahead of me.

Noon passed and I was hungry. We were supposed to eat in Heeney, but missed it due to construction. I had no idea where or when the others would stop for food. So I became increasingly exhausted and frustrated.

At 2:00, having ridden 55 miles, I finally caught up with Mathieu and Auke. We sat on hot, glass-covered dirt next to the highway where we were to continue off-road.

Mathieu’s bike was producing high-pitched squeaking noises, so he rode to Kremling to have it checked. Depending on whether it was a quick fix or not, he would meet Auke and me in Radium tonight or Steamboat Springs tomorrow.

Just after lunch, Auke & I crossed over a large river – I was low on water, but didn’t bother stopping to filter some. I thought after one climb it was a long descent into Radium (which is on the Colorado River). Before the top of the climb, I had sucked my camelback dry and drank half of my reserve water bottle.

At the top, I found a house next to a rafting company’s “base camp.” I pulled into what could be called a driveway and greeted a buy outside the house. He happily let me fill up my camelback. I was not the first GD rider to stop there – one of the unicyclists who did the ride a few years back stopped there as well. This guy – Dave was his name – was the third person to mention meeting the unicyclists.

Full on water, I left and descended. The CO River came into view as I rounded Inspiration Point.

The fast (probably too fast) descent ended quickly with a steep uphill. I thought after one climb, it was entirely downhill to Radium…wrong!

I was mentally and physically drained & made slow progress up this unexpected climb. I’m glad I refilled my water at Dave’s – I drank much of it by the time I descended again. A mile before Radium, I passed a dispersed campsite – no sign of Auke, so I rode on to the Radium Campground. He wasn’t there either.

Certainly, Auke was ahead of me – but not where I thought we were meeting. Maybe he took a wrong turn somewhere and would catch up?

I finished setting up camp and Auke was still MIA and I wasn’t sure if Mathieu would arrive tonight. I decided to check back at the dispersed site for Auke. He was there! Even when I rode past the first time, he was already there – probably just out of sight. He had eaten, but not set up his tent, so it wasn’t a problem to relocate to the campground I was at.

Back at the campsite, I decided to go for a swim in the Colorado River. It was less swimming than acclimating to the frigid water. As I was wading, Mathieu arrived. A watchmaker in Kremmling disassembled and greased Mathieu’s rear cassette – which seemed to stop the noise.

As the sun set & mosquitoes came out, I dried off and took refuge in my tent.

Tomorrow, we should arrive in Steamboat and stay for a rest day. It’ll be a difficult day, though. We have a climb out of Radium that past northbounders have identified as one of the toughest climbs on the route.

June 14, 2010 – 64 miles

My sister, Jenn, lives in Colorado Springs and wanted to visit me while I’m in her area. She and Parker (her boyfriend who is on two weeks leave from Iraq) were planning to meet us roughly halfway between Hartsel and Silverthorne in a town called Como. We agreed to meet there at noon, which put us on a tight schedule.

We woke to gold air and dreary, rain-threatening clouds. After breakfast at the same restaurant as last night, we rode – first on highway, then familiar dirt and gravel. I noticed my rear tire was slowly losing pressure. I added air on a few occasions, but this was only a temporary fix. It went flat again, so I flipped my bike and replaced the tube. Auke inspected the tire for the source of the flat. There was no indication of what cause it.

While doing so, I saw a silver Honda driving toward us. I said to Auke, “that might be my sister.” When the hazard lights flashed, I knew it was.

Jenn jumped out of the car and ran to hug me. For the first few seconds talking to her, I was overwhelmed by the perfume she wore. After so much time spent in fresh air, I wasn’t used to such smells. I’m sure she had similar thoughts about me, as well.

We chatted, ate some brownies, and decided to ride on. Mathieu was somewhere ahead of us. My sister offered to carry our bags in the car…an offer we couldn’t refuse. She took my food bags and some of Auke’s.

They drove ahead toward Como and Auke and I started riding the last miles. The wind suddenly picked up as a storm came upon us. At first it rained, then it started hailing lightly. We topped a hill and saw Jenn’s car stopped ahead. She wanted to make sure we didn’t need anything from the bags in her car. I didn’t, but Auke sure did – his rain gear.

Just after Jenn left us again, it started hailing stronger. Auke and I took shelter in an aspen stand. In the minimal shelter of the trees, I stripped my rain layers off and added a pair of tights and a warm ski fleece. The storm lasted 15 minutes and chilled us to the bone – especially my hands and feet.

It ended as quickly as it started. As we walked our bikes to the road, we watched the icy snow rapidly melt into small streams running down the road. The freshly graded road was already eroding!

The next few miles were about warming up. My fingers stung from the cold. After a while, Jenn showed up to check on us. We were alright, so they drove ahead to Como. Soon enough, the clouds parted and let the sun shine on us. I removed my rain gear and warm layers since I was sweating already.

The miles passed slowly. I thought only of the goodies my sister brought us to eat. The sandy/gravelly water from the road did a number on my drivetrain. Each revolution of the pedals sounded awfully gritty and inefficient.

When I eventually made it to Como, I was surrounded by good food – Subway sandwiches, chips, popcorn, brownies, Oreos, and cokes. It was too much to eat and too much to carry. The 5 of us chatted for awhile and enjoyed the food. It turned out Mathieu was not caught by the hailstorm. He barely rode in any rain.

Jenn and Parker planned to go to Frisco for the evening, which was 10 miles short of Silverthorne. Instead of stuffing our bellies and panniers, we decided to end our day in Frisco. Jenn would keep the food (and Auke and my panniers) in the car for the rest of the day.

Another storm looked like it was approaching, so we left Como in a hurry. Straight out of town we started climbing Boreas Pass – a railroad grade road cresting 11,500 ft. After a few minutes out of Como, it looked like the storm would not come afterall. Having geared up for another hailstorm, I needed to shed layers.

Not even 30 minutes later, a storm blew in – rain, snow, and wind. Luckily, I was on the side of a mountain opposite from where the storm was coming. I was protected while I put the cold weather and rain gear back on for the third time.

I rounded the mountainside and was completely exposed to the storm. The icy snow stung my face. Luckily, like most Colorado storms, this one did not last long. Soon enough the sun was out and the protective layers were shoved back into my camelback.

There was a fresh dusting of snow on the sides of the towering surrounding mountains.

Even with a stomach full of energy and a gentle-graded road, I could not keep myself from stopping to rest often. When I reached the top of Boreas Pass, I took the stereotypical “I climbed this mountain pass” picture. It was cold and windy at the top, so I quickly suited up for the descent to Breckenridge.

As I descended, it rained again. Not much, but enough to chill me further. It was over in a few minutes and the rest of the descent was in sun. I must have looked odd riding through the outskirts of Breckenridge – the locals were walking/jogging/biking in shorts and t-shirts while I was dressed for rain and freezing temperatures. Before I arrived in downtown Breckenridge, I stopped to stow the pants, hat, and gloves.

Mathieu and Auke were waiting at a closed cafe right where the route enters town. We rode through it together looking for the bike path that would take us the rest of the way to Frisco. After riding through roundabout (my first time riding one) and a few miles of busy highway, we found our bike path. Clouds were now pouring over the mountains to the west – more rain was on the way.

We geared up again and pushed hard on the pedals for the last 7 miles to Frisco. We got dumped on! Rain fell on my head bringing sweat into my eyes and mouth. We pushed harder – to get out of the rain and to stay warm.

On the way, we passed a number of cyclists and runners miserably heading for home/shelter. They were unprepared for the rain and cold.

In Frisco, we rode down the main street and checked into the first hotel we found. We warmed ourselves and waited for Jenn’s arrival with our gear and food. Three hot showers later, we were nearly good as new.

The 5 of us went out for a meal at a Himalayan restaurant. I think Mathieu was most interested in this place having attempted to summit Everest.

We finished dinner later – near 22:30. We walked back to our hotel and I said goodbye to my sister and Parker. It was great to see both of them!

I snacked on the plethora of food we now had and reflected on the day. I’m glad that it is over and hope tomorrow’s weather is better…or at least consistent.

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.