Hartsel to Canon City, a beautiful ride

     64 miles, bucking a stiff wind the whole way didn't detract from the beautify of land I bicycled through.  I remind myself daily of the great experience I am having riding across this huge country.  

      Hartsel to Canon city included a few significant  climbs but the monsters are behind me.  I found a catholic monastery to camp at for the night, facilities included.  Canon City is spotless with no vacant downtown buildings. Refreshing given New London's deteriorating downtown.  Once again, another brewery smack in the middle town with a delicious IPA. Life is real good.  Tomorrow Pueblo.  

       

Conquerred Hossier pass, my Everest

        Warmershows accommodations are always great fun.  Dave made me outrageously delicious cinnamon rolls this  morning. He banged them out in no time.   Fueled up with sugar and carbs, I set off on a slow and steady pace up the pass, four miles of switch backing.   By 10:30 the man was on the top,  a huge relief.  For months I have dreaded this high elevation pass.  Exacerbating the situation, I had attitude breathing problems when I hit the sack last night.  Waking up this morning, I had serious reservation as to whether or not I would reach the top.  It was way over rated; several of the previous pass were far worse.   Now  it is basically all downhill with the trip  half over.  

     For the third day I limited the miles covered to just over forty miles.  Let the young guys rack up the high mileage.  Youth is wasted on the young    

      I stopped at Hartsel, Colorado and had a great lunch at the town's only diner. After lunch and some good jawboning with the locals, I rode two miles out of town and settled into a guest ranch with excellent camping facilities.  This place is out in nowhere, surrounded by miles of arid grazing land and next to a meandering stream/river.

           I am in chill mode on  the prairie until tomorrow morning.

Higher and higher

     A short ride from Hot Sulphur Springs (43 miles) brought me to the Green Mountain Resevoir just past Heeney.  What a site, surrounding mountains with a huge beautiful lake in the middle. Rather than push on for Silverthorne, I found this iydillic camp site on right on the Resevoir.  The site had a small number of campers, quietude and a place to soak my feet.  No running water but a neighboring camper replenished my dwindling supply. 

        7:40 am I clipped the shoes to the pedals and headed south.  Nearing Silverthorne, I picked up a bike path that took me all the way to Breckinridge, a welcome reprieve from the cars.  The path was loaded with bikers and it appeared I was the only long distance rider. The path took me through Silverthorne, Frisco and into Breckinridge.  All three towns were gentrified to the max, upscale everything, virtually no fast food chains and not a soul who looked less than middle class.  All the houses are brown, homogenous, tastefully done but pretty dull.  My warmershowers accommodation is an apartment smack in the middle of Breckinridge.  Dave Dean, the renter, his eccentric brother, Abel and I dined at the local brewery, great IPAs. Very smart guys, well versed in the classic reads and very computer savy. Dave's robotic vacuum cleaner was hilarious roaming around the room periodically bouncing off me.

       Breckinridge is one giant tourist Mecca, making Mystic look like an undiscovered backwater town. It is at 9600 feet with huge snow covered mountains in your face, very impressive.

        Tomorrow I make the ten mile climb from 9600 feet to 11,500 feet; slow and steady, loads of water, numerous stops.  After this point the Transamerica route is all downhill. Thank god for small favors. I need to go out an buy on oxygen supply before the stores close.

9700 feet and climbing

      Sixty-four miles, over the Continental Divide again at 9700 feet and a soak in the hot sulphur springs of Hot Sulphur Springs, Colorado.  Keeping up with Nigel and Derek has pushed me a little over the top.  They headed for Granby this afternoon so we part company after having a real fun together.  Despite the pace, Colorado is just a masterpiece of snow covered mountains and green Valleys of  grazing land.  This morning we rode 30 miles in pretty much a never ending straight road. We climbed 9700 over another continental divide pass. Four other bicyclists going the other direction met us at the top. Pictures, stories and plenty of laughs between us all was a real treat for us hardened cyclists.  With the exception of a one mile climb, it was twenty miles of flying downhill at speeds of over thirty mph once on the other side of the pass!

      I arrived in Hot Sulphur Springs to find a dot on the map with a partially flooded camping park.  Days of rain have swelled the Colorado River to flood stage. I made do, set up my tent in a thunder storm and head out for a dinner and a thorough soaking in the hot springs. The hot springs comprised many different pools ranging in temperature from 97-112 degrees.  At present, I am putty trying to write this update.  Tomorrow I am backing off the throttle after having driven myself to keep up with the boys.

Crossed into Colorado

     Three of use crossed into Colorado via route 125, my fifth state and nearly two thousand miles into the trip.   Derek and Nigel have been excellent companions, especially while riding through some desolate areas. When we get to Hot Sulpher Springs, I will chill for a day.  The boys have a deadline and I don't.  

   Only fifty-one miles today; nevertheless a challenge given all the hills.  Running out of water was a major concern.

   We blew into Walden, Colorada, a pokie town with a library, court house, park ( where we are camping) and few stores, bars and motels/hotels.  Most of the small towns I go through are either nearly ghost towns or struggling economically.  Mining, lumbering, tourism, cattle ranches and not much else keeps these places alive.

     Everyday, we pass several cyclists on their way to some distant destination.  All of us are having the experience of our life.

Most of our friends think we are crazy.  

       

64 miles from Rawlins to Riverside.

      Thirteen miles on Interstate 80, the cars and trucks were flying by but we had a wide shoulder.  Derek and Nigel,  25 and 21 respectively, kept me moving at a pace more than my usual. After the lunch break at Saratogo (a nice little town where the wealthy flock to in the winter and summer months), we hammer out the last nineteen miles.  It was hot, hilly and the wind was on our nose. A cold beer was the first thing on our agenda upon arrival. The camp site was across the street from the watering hole,  gorgeous place right on the fast flowing Encampment River. When you see Airsteam RVs at a site you know the place is nice.

     I am in my tent, laying onl my back, twenty feet back from the river. It doesn't get any better.  

      Wyoming is a wide open  expanse of mountains and plains.  I liked Montana better but the state was well worth the ride through.  I have gotten a birdsye view of the landscape and hope to get back here soon.  

    Tomorrow I am off to  Walden, fifty miles south east.

 

Long and hot

        Two things special about Jeffrey City, the Mosquitos and the giant pot holes.  The town is one sorry place.

         I headed for Rawlins this AM thinking I could stop at Lamont for lunch and water.  After 36 miles, I was not happy to find the only store/cafe was closed.  I found some shade but finding water was not to be.  33 miles to go with two bottles of water and pushing 90 degrees!  Making the situation worse, the road shoulder was a wreck and the wind against me.   Just before I started a five mile climb over the Divided again,  I saw two tractor trailers moving slowly down a dirt road leading to the main road.  I waved them down holding up my water bottle. One driver had enough water to almost fill up one of my bottles. God bless the man, I rolled into Rawlins with only a quarter bottle of water remaining and the air temperature registering 94 degrees.

    Rawlins is a railroad hub/intersection  with a lot of everything but not much to see or do.   Derek and Nigel Pell and myself have been meeting up the past several nights. They are 21 and 25 and  very bright.  We have been having a lot of laughs.

      So today, I covered seventy miles, peaked over the Divide twice and damn near ran out of water.  By Saturday I may make it over Hossier pass, 11,500 feet!