I finally made it into Pie Town about 20 minutes before dark. I stayed the night at the Toaster House, a place that welcomes hikers and bikers and provides showers, places to sleep and good memories for travelers. I met a few hikers there and we shared a night filled with good food, laughs, stories of our adventures and our lives. I appreciated that night so very much, since, I had spent most of the Divide alone, it was great to connect with other like minded people and share in one another’s adventures. I slept well that night. In the morning, we all made the short walk to the restaurant to eat pie. I filled up with pie and a huge breakfast. I struggled with what I should, should I stay the day and take a day off or should I get back on my bike and continue onwards. Around noon, I decided to pack up and head out. I filled up my water bladders, bought one more piece of pie, made sure my phone was charged, said goodbye to my new friends and climbed back onto the saddle of my bike.
Turning onto CR 189 and heading onto Abiquiu Grant Lands was a bit nerve wrecking for me. I chose to follow the standard route despite my anxieties and worries about my safety. I rode through a neighborhood where I counted 4 red trucks. I was worried one of those trucks belonged to rhe guy that had been known to harass bikers- hold them up and rob them. I felt very alone, I felt very vulnerable. I questioned my decision to take the standard route over and over as I rode. I was scared. As I pedaled across Abiquiu Creek and rode up to a steep ridge which opened to amazing views I continued to feel scared and worried and unsure of the hours ahead. I reached a plateau about 5 miles in and enjoyed the beautiful views, the juniper trees and piñon. It reminded me of home in Arizona. I still was struggling to wrangle in my anxiety and focus on the riding. Every so often, I would turn around and check to see if there were any vehicles coming up behind me or any vehicle parked on the side roads or in the trees off the route. I turned off of CR 189 and onto FR 27. A few miles later I entered into Santa Fe National Forest, as I made more miles away from that neighborhood I started to feel a tad more safe, but, I still felt vulnerable. I kept praying I would run into other campers at the end of the day so I would not be alone that night. Around 10 miles into the day, I saw a truck and they stopped and talked to me, they were out hunting, it was opening day for the season. That made me so happy because I knew there were others out there, the likelihood of that guy bothering me was starting to become less of a concern. I entered into a canyon, the road was in decent shape and I began to descend for awhile. The riding was enjoyable and the weather was perfect. FR 27 started to get very rough, very uneven, very rocky and very hard to ride- I was beginning the climb up to the top of Polverda Mesa. The slick rock made riding difficult, but, it was nice to be in the tall trees of the forest- it was quiet and beautiful and though the miles were hard to ride, it seemed to go by fast. I continued to climb the volcanic road towards the sky. 12.5 miles after beginning the steep climb, I finally reached the top.
I noticed a group of hunters camped off to my right. I walked right up to them and asked the first guy I saw if I could camp with them for the night? They didn’t even hesitate as they welcomed me into their camp and showed me where I could pitch my tent. The guys then left on their ATV to scout for their hunt the next morning. I setup my tent and went out for a short hike. I felt relieved that I was at the top and that I had stayed safe and was going to be safe all night long. I could feel my anxiety simmer down and my entire being seemed to shift into a calm place. The sky lit up with magnificent colors, the day was coming to an end. I crawled into my tent after cooking some food; right as it became dark, the guys returned to camp and offered me a hamburger and some drinks. I bundled up and joined them around the fire. The night air was cold. The guys built a fire, it was a welcomed addition to the evening. To me, fire is like primitive tv, it is mesmerizing and for some reason they always provide good vibes and good times. We ate, exchanged stories and embraced each others company for the night. They talked about their lives in New Mexico and how Covid was impacting their towns. We talked about my trip on the Divide and where I was from. They were externally generous and told me to take whatever I needed or wanted out of the cooler in the morning before I left camp. We stayed up for a few hours and then called it a night. Around 4 am the next morning the guys left camp, they were determined to get an elk. I was not getting up that early. I laid in my warm sleeping bag until about 7 am and then started my day. It is never fun to pack up in the early morning when it is freezing cold, but, it is part of the journey and the bitter cold against your body reminds you that you are alive. To Cuba, NM I go!!
I had been so exhausted and defeated in the days leading up to Abiqui. I enjoyed a day off at the Abiqui Inn- a neat little respite from the long days on the Divide. A few weeks prior while I was in Colorado; I had been informed about a man who lived outside of Abiquiu who was holding bikers up at gunpoint and robbing them, it had been on my mind ever since learning about it. It had created an immense amount of anxiety and fear in me and I was leaning towards taking an alternate route to avoid that area. I spoke with locals and other bikers who for the most part knew nothing about that guy. After, a nice day off, my plan was to head out. I went to the restaurant to eat breakfast and was seated next to this guy who was also eating alone. He looked like a movie star, he had this sleek, kind and handsome look to him. At some point, we struck up a conversation, we talked about my trip and a little bit about who we each were and where we were from. I have no idea how the topic of losing my sister Martha came up, but somehow it did. He was so easy to talk to and I guess I was in dire need of releasing some of my grief. Grief is a constant ebb and flow of emotion. I hadn’t really been addressing my grief on my ride thus far. More so, I had been hiding it, pretending it wasn’t real and trying to ignore it. I mean, I was on my bike, I couldn’t ride at all or make any miles if all I did was cry and let my grief out. I had to stifle it and put it away. But, grief isn’t just tears, sometimes it shows up in the form of just needing one more day off on a big bike ride, or being extra anxious or lonely or feeling “off.” That morning it knocked me over and consumed me. He began to talk about his own losses and grief and what his process had been. The more we talked, the more both of us started to tear up. There we were two grown strangers crying at breakfast. It was one of the most therapeutic experiences of my life. I then told him I had planned to leave that morning and about my concerns about what I had heard about that guy harassing bikers. He could tell I was struggling with myself to continue riding. He said to me, “you don’t have to ask permission for another day off.” You can take it. He offered to take me into Espanola so I could get to a real store. I told him I’d let him know in a few hours. After, I finished my breakfast and exchanged contact information with him I left the restaurant and noticed that there was horses in the back of the property.
I immediately walked over there and had another big release of grief. Horses are extremely therapeutic and it was exactly what I needed at the moment. The way they smell, the way they feel, the way they can reflect and comfort you without even knowing you, without any questions asked is such a special gift. I stayed there for a while and then decided to walk back to my room. I was so tired and now, I was emotionally exhausted. Grief wears you out. It drains you. It’s so hard. I ended up texting my new friend and he picked me up and drove me into town to Walmart and Dairy Queen. It was awesome and relaxing. I was so glad I had not ridden off that morning. I wasn’t ready to leave and that was okay. I had a kind escort for the day and a cool Kermit Car to ride in.
After we returned to the inn, he offered to take me on his motorcycle up Polvadera Mesa where that guy I was worried about had been known to be. He said it might help to see some of the route and if I did indeed decide to take the alternate then at least I wouldn’t miss some of the beautiful views of the actual route. The ride was amazing, it’s so special out there, so beautiful- the desert, the mountains, the rock, the sky- man, it’s all so indescribably beautiful. It was nearing the end of the day and I knew that in the morning I was leaving. I had to chose the actual route or the alternate. I got back to my room right at dinner time and said goodbye to my friend. It had been a very healing day for me. Though, I still felt sad, uneasy, and anxious. I knew that I had to start allowing my grief to surface more. That I shouldn’t be scared of it or try to ignore it. That it was okay to be a mess, to be vulnerable and lonely and sad even when I was on a big adventure, being a badass or trying to be a badass. It was okay to be just me and to be just where I was with my grief. The next morning, I packed up and rode to the general store. It was either turn left and head up to Polvodera Mesa on the actual route or go straight and take the alternate. I started riding and for some reason turned left onto the actual route. I surprised myself with that decision. But, I was not going to let some guy scare me off the route…
Hitching back to the route from Tres Piedras was difficult, the traffic was almost non exsistent, at least in the direction I needed to go. After an hour and a half I got a ride in the back of a pickup truck, with no bed gate. I had to hold my bike so tight and keep us both from falling out of the back of the truck as the driver drove way too fast for the turns on that road. I was pretty scared to be honest. When I got back to the route, I put my panniers back on my bike and started the 5 mile climb up the paved highway 64 to Hopewell Lake. I was still feeling tired, my body was still exhausted and I was only planning to ride to Canon Plaza, 24 miles away. My riding was sluggish, I was still fading mentally and psychically. FR 91 was in alright condition, the terrain was pretty nice, there were a few climbs up to Burned Mountain and then again to the top a saddle that stood above ranches and wetlands. I loved riding through the tall trees that day. It was so quiet out there, no one else was out there, but me and my bike. Most days on the Divide were like that, but there was generally some vehicle traffic at some point and that day the road belonged to just me and my bike. After only 10 miles of riding I was beginning to feel the fatique worsen. My pernicious anemia and Crohns were giving me trouble as they often do and coupled with the fact that I was riding the Divide and pushing myself day after day for weeks now, my body was admittedly protesting. I rode into Canon Plaza and went to the store Joe and his wife have setup for bikers, I bought a few snacks and talked to Joe for a while. Joe kindly offered to let me stay at his house he was fixing up across from the store. I happily accepted his offer and ended my day on the bike early. As I was writing outside on the patio of the house a dog named Duke came to greet me. He was a skiddish shepard mix, but, sweet as could be. He hungout with me for a while as I wrote and then went on his way.
I struggled to sleep that night. I did not sleep at all in fact. I laid awake all night. You would think I could fall asleep so easy and fast because I was exhausted, but, I have always had trouble with sleep. Even when my body is beyond tired in every single way, there are nights when I cannot turn my mind off and I cannot sleep. It is like torture. Absolute torture. I have grown used to it over the years, but, it makes my days harder, especially when I am out on a big adventure like riding the Divide. The lack of sleep messes with my focus, emotions, appetite, endurance- everything- it throws yet another challenge into the mix for me. I have tried a lot of different things over the years to help with this struggle, but, I have yet to find anything that has worked long term. So, I have no other choice than to accept it as a part of who I am and learn to live with it, just as I do with having Crohns, Pernicous Anemia, anxiety and depression and POTS. All I can do is embrace those struggles and decide to not let them stop me from what I want to do.
As the daylight crept through the windows I knew I was going to have to pack up and start riding. I was headed for Abiquiu, 38 miles away. I left early as I was already awake, I wanted to see Joe again but I was not going to go over and wake him up. The morning air was cold, my eyes burned from staying up all night, my head was all over the place. I was supposed to have been in Abiquiu days ago, I just wasn’t riding as fast as planned because my body was just too tired. The riding out of town wasn’t too bad. The route took me across Rio Vallectios and then it turned onto FR 44 which was rougher riding than the nice gravel and pavement I had just been on. The road climbed up to a remote high point and then continued downhill for a bit. Then it went back up hill, eventually leading me onto Highway 554. I rode into El Rito and stopped at the little store there to get a soda and take a break. I was 18 miles from Abiquiu at that point and it was all pavement from there JAfter I was finished with my soda, I got back onto my bike and headed South on 554. The views were so beautiful riding into Abiquiu, the distant mesas and desert landscape did not disappoint. I was so happy to finally be in Abiquiu, a few days before when I was really struggling I did not think I would ever get there. I went straight to the Inn and got a room and ate a huge lunch.
I was slow to pack up the morning after I entered into New Mexico. It was freezing out. My body was now in trouble. I was really struggling just to get ready that day. Everything seemed so hard. The day started with lots of rocky climbs. I struggled with each mile. FR 87 was rough and I was in no position to be riding that day. A few hours into the day, I called my parents crying- I was exhausted beyond exhaustion. My body was rejecting the physical aspect of the riding. My mom got online to look at maps trying to find a way for me to get off so I could quit. Honestly, I was at that point. My body was giving up on me, it didn’t care about my goals. I could hear my parents concern and worry. They know all too well that I often push myself past my limit and that my health issues cause me a great deal of stress and pain and my body is impacted by all of that. I just kept telling them that I wasn’t going to quit. That of course did not make my mom happy, but, I couldn’t quit. I had to keep going. I tried to reassure them as much as I could, but I think I was really just trying to reassure myself. I hung up and got back on my bike. There was a nice ROCKY descent after my phone call and it gave me some relief from the climbing. That was short lived though. I then began to push my bike up a half mile of some ridiculous terrain filled with sharp rocks and lose gravel. You absolutely couldn’t ride that section. Ugh! Right before the top of the climb I fell to the ground. I was crying like a baby. I was done. Mentally and physically I was done. Little did I know 100 yards away was an amazing view on top of Brazos Ridge looking down into Cruces Basin Wilderness. When I finally got to the top, the view was rewardingly peaceful and pretty epic.
I took a long break up there and then continued on FR 87. I was still struggling a lot. I was fighting each mile. I was fighting myself and I was fading. I always always carry extra food- usually one or two days extra- but I just couldn’t stop eating. I couldn’t get satiated. I was going through all of my extra food and I knew I was going to run out. I wasn’t riding as fast as I had planned and my tummy just couldn’t stop feeling hungry. It’s a terrible feeling to be eating through your extra days of food and knowing you will soon run out. On top of that my Crohn’s was flaring up and I was weak.
Riding down from Brazos Ridge was pretty fun and soon enough the road became smoother. I kept riding on FR 87, it went up and then down some and then back up, but the road was in good shape and the riding was pretty easy. Eventually, I started heading down through the aspen trees towards the Rio San Antonio. I could feel the sun get more intense as I approached the bottom of the descent and I wanted to find a place to camp, but, I knew I had to keep riding and so I did. I crossed the Rio San Antonio and turned off of FR 87 and onto FR 133. A couple miles later I met a guy driving back from a bike ride. I asked him what the closest town was, he told me about Tres Piedras and offered to take me there for some real food and a night of good rest.
Logistically, though getting back to the route from that point would have been too hard, so I decided to continue another 11 miles or so and try and hitch into Tres Piedras from highway 64. I really needed food and I needed some real rest, but I couldn’t put myself in a situation where returning to the route would be difficult. I kept riding, as I rode I felt so lonely, so tired, so defeated. When I got to Cisneros Park I could see the mountains of Colorado and that only made me feel more lonely. I missed my friends. I missed connecting to people and laughing and missed having days where I wasn’t on my bike. I followed FR 133 passed a dry Beehive Spring and began descending into Little Tusas Creek. The cows seemed to be amused by me, they were very vocal as I rode by. A short time later I got to highway 64, walked to the other side of the road and stuck my thumb out. I was going into Tres Piedras for the night. I had ridden only 44 miles that day, but for my body it felt like 100. The traffic was slow on highway 64 and the day was quickly ending. I didn’t want to be on the side of a highway when it got dark. A few cars went by and then the same guy I had met earlier that day pulled over. Unfortunately, my bike tires were too big to fit on his rack, but him and his friends flagged down a truck and I finally told got a ride into town. They dropped me off at the only restaurant in town. I ran in and found out they were closed, I was bummed. I secured a room for the night there at the motel and I bought a handful of goodies they had at the bar. The lady who runs the place stopped me before I left and asked me what I wanted to eat. She knew about bikers on the divide and she stayed late to cook me some food. She also told me to come back in the morning for breakfast. After a nice full dinner, I went to my room to unwind and eat all the goodies I had bought. I sat on the bed and ate for almost an hour and a half straight. It was like I was garbage disposal, I just kept shoving food in my mouth. I was able to really relax and get some good warm sleep and that made a giant difference. I slept in, I didn’t rush back on my bike in the morning. I stayed for breakfast and bought more snacks to take with me. I left around 11 and started to hitch back to where I had gotten off the route the night before. It was amazing how one night with lots and I mean lots of food completely turned me around. It was just what I needed.
I took a day off at Danielle and Trenton’s house outside of Del Norte in South Park. It was a perfect day off, pizza by the creek with their doggies, easy errands, good company and good conversation. The following day, they drove me back into Del Norte where I had gotten off the route. And, the bike mechanic from Salida had texted me that my maps had finally arrived and his mother in law drove out to Del Norte that morning to bring me my new maps. Absolute wonderfully kind people. I was still incredibly tired and decided to just ride 12 miles to a local cabin that hosted bikers. I was anticipating the long hard climb to the summit of Indian Pass, 11,910 feet and decided an easy quick day of riding would set me up for the next day to tackle the big climb. The cabin was very neat, kind of like an artsy Jeremiah Johnson cabin, very unique and cozy and set in the low mountains of the Rio Grande National Forest. I did not sleep well, but, I got enough sleep 🙂
In the morning, I left the cabin prepared to handle the next 12 miles of climbing to reach the Pass. In true Elizabeth style, I walked my bike a lot of the way up. I even called my mom during the climb at one point and had a good conversation with her. Once I neared the top of the Pass the views were beautiful but the sky was hazy and the views were impacted by that. I rode from the Pass down into Summerville and then began to climb yet again. The views were great and the riding wasn’t too bad. I then climbed up to Elwood Pass and the views just kept getting better. I passed by a few lakes and kept riding with the intention of getting into Platoro for the night. I passed Stunner Campground and kept riding focusing on the final climb and final Pass for the day, Stunner Pass. That climb was so pretty. So many colors, so many rocks, lovely Colorado. At the top of the Pass I bundled up a bit, it was starting to get cold. I was ready for some nice downhill riding as the day had been filled with over 5,000 feet of climbing already and I did not want to face any other climbs that day. I rode into Platoro about an hour before dark, the store owners showed me the Great Diivde Cabin and set me up inside for the night. He later brought me some watermelon, cheese and a sausage, I sat on the deck of the cabin and ate my dinner. It was so peaceful there. I had lived in Colorado for 15 years and never even knew about that place or the surrounding areas. It is definitely a special part of Colorado and I plan on visiting it to adventure more one day. I slept very well that night, though my body was sore, so sore. I tried to stretch before bed and again in the morning, but I was beyond that being enough to help. My body was beginning to break down. I was beginning to feel my body breaking down. I was not recovering like I should. My health issues were getting the best of me.
In the morning I again received a generous home cooked meal from the owners of the store. It was delicious and filled me up enough to begin my day. The first part of the day took me along the Conejos River, it was like a scene from a cowboy movie, so much wild land out there. So much to explore. It was mostly flat terrain and easy riding. When I got into Horca, I stopped for a few Amish pies at the store in town and then turned up on Los Caminos Antiguos Scenic Byway to climb to the top of La Mangas Pass. I stopped at a few viewpoints along the way to take in the views and take some pictures. The climb was pretty easy for the most part and only lasted 7 miles. I headed down from the pass absorbing the joy of the downhill riding. I left the highway and turned onto FR 117 which was a nice road with easy riding. Three miles later I left the Rio Grande National Forest and entered into the Carson National Forest/NEW MEXICO!!!! The final state of the Great Divide, getting that far was a huge moment for me. I couldn’t believe that I had actually done it. I was aware I still had hundreds of miles to ride to the Mexican Border, but, that moment, that moment when I knew I was finally in New Mexico brought me to tears. I felt so proud of myself. I was so excited. I rode about another mile or so and camped near a few other people who were out with their RV. One of the guys at camp had Kentucky Fried Chicken and offered me a few pieces along with some water. I was loving New Mexico 🙂 I set up my tent in a cluster of trees near their RV and prepared for the cold night ahead. I was still struggling with my body, it was fighting itself and it was breaking down. I was not feeling rested at all after days off or sleep, I was tired, I was slow, I was hungry. I couldn’t give my body the recovery time it demanded. I kept pushing myself in all ways possible and my body was now rejecting all of the pushing. I was in trouble physically and I felt it. My entire body felt it, but, I was in NEW MEXICO and nothing was going to keep me from getting to the Mexican Border. To be continued…..
I thought about staying in Sargents and waiting out the wind for a day or so, but, ultimately, I decided to keep riding. Although, I do enjoy days off and usually take more than most riders because of my health issues, I also feel restless when I am not moving. The morning air was cold, the wind had died down a bit and the 12 miles of payment along highway 50 was enjoyable. I turned off highway 50 onto a nice wide gravel road after 12 or so miles and rode through remote BLM lands. The climbing was steep in some places and not so bad in others. I was still learning how to efficiently climb on my bike and how to sustain myself during a climb. Climbs were still hard for me and when I felt like getting off my bike and walking it, I did. It was only me, the road and my bike. I had no one to impress or record to break and why not, why shouldn’t get off my bike and take it all in. It is hard to take it all in while riding a bike- you are focused solely on the road ahead, you cannot feel the earth beneath you, you can’t see all angles around you, it is a different feeling and a different pace.
For me, I will take a mixture of both, in doing so, I created some of the most wonderful and perfect days along the Divide. After a handful of miles of climbing, I descended into a basin that was surrounded by distant mountains and lonely sky. The road began to descend more steeply as it was twisting and turning. I loved the ride down, it was quite bumpy in places, but, the feeling of racing down an empty road is pretty awesome, it feeds your inner child in ways that you cannot explain.
I took a turn on highway 114 then onto county rd NN14 towards Cochetopa Pass. I entered Gunnison National Forest and began the climb towards the Pass, this climb seemed to never end for some reason, I would think I was at the top, then there was more climbing to do. When I did get to the top of the Pass, I was feeling tired and the temperature was dropping. I knew that no matter where I camped it was going to be a very cold night. I rode two miles downhill and made camp at Luders Creek, it was freezing, the shadows of the day coming to an end were lingering in the trees. It wasn’t even dark yet and the temperature was too cold for being outside of my tent. I was in my tent early and I was glad that I had bought a sleeping bag liner for extra warmth. However, I did not stay warm at all that night, I was up all night. I did not sleep at all.
Since I had not slept, I was ready to move and get going, thinking it would warm me up a bit and I knew as the day went on that it would warm up. Packing my bike up was hard, my body was so cold, it felt stiff and my fingers burned. I finally got my bike packed up and headed out of camp. I rode down into a red rock canyon filled with piñon and juniper- it reminded me of home, of the desert beauty in Arizona. 9 miles from camp I once again turned onto highway 114 and rode the pavement until I turned onto FR 41G toward Canero Pass and La Garita. After I had been riding that road for awhile I entered into Rio Grande National Forest and started climbing through tall aspens. I summited Canero Pass after 25 miles and decided I was going to ride all the way into Del Norte that day, another 38 miles away. I rode down the pass and into an area of hoodoos and boulders, the road became quite bumpy, but, I was in a good mood and enjoying the day. It did warm up after a few hours, but, not very much. The riding was pretty moderate and easy going until I reached about 18 miles from Del Norte, at that point the road turned into terrible washboards, so bad, I thought it would rip my bike apart. I was running low on water and walking my bike across the really bad washboards when I flagged down a driver and asked them if they had any extra water. The driver got out of his truck and filled my bottle, we began talking and a few minutes later his friends pulled up behind him and walked over to us. They introduced themselves, John, Danielle, and Trenton- Danielle and Trenton invited me to stay at their home when I got to Del Norte. I was so surprised by their kindness and generosity and made a plan to call them when I got into town. They were out for a bike ride so we exchanged contact information and parted ways.
I left CO rd 38A- washboard land- and turned towards La Garita Natural Arch, the road was very rocky and sandy, but the landscape was unbelievable. I then turned onto FR 665 a very primitive narrow road that was insanely fun to ride, rollers, narrow road, it was like being on a race track in the sand. The riding was awesome and I wanted it to last forever. That was truly one of my favorite sections on the Divide. It was so so so much fun 🙂 so much fun. The distant desert buttes, jagged rock formations and mountains made that section perfectly wonderful. I accidentally missed the turn off the road into a drainage and got lost for a good while. Eventually, I found the correct turn and continued up towards a gap. The view was beautiful, from there I rode down into a wash with very sharp pointy rocks and lots of sand. I was beginning to wear out, I knew I hadn’t eaten or drank enough that day and I was now paying the price with extreme fatigue, a bad headache and soreness everywhere. I reached a decent gravel road that had a million turns in it. Right, left, right, left, this road went on forever and all you could see in the distance was more of that damn road. I crossed the Rio Grande River and then got to highway 112, turned right and arrived in Del Norte. I headed straight to Subway. I ate a foot long sandwich and then texted Danielle and Trenton. John picked me up and we drove over to their house for dinner, my second dinner 🙂 Their house was amazing, I had my own wing of their house. I couldn’t believe these strangers were so kind to me. Trenton cooked us all a delicious steak dinner and we stayed up and chatted about the state of the world, my trip, their lives, and instantly we became friends. To be continued…
Leaving Salida, the terrain was easy leading into Poncha Sprigs, though the wind made it much harder, each pedal stroke I was fighting the wind. I was beginning to lose it mentally yet again with the wind. I do not think there is anyone on this earth that hates wind as much as I do. I stopped at a gas station in Poncha Springs for a soda and began to remember the hellish days of wind when I thru hiked the PCT. I remembered other thru hikers and I laughing about how insane the wind was and referring to it as the, “devil,” just so we could try and bring some humor into how bad it was out there in the desert of CA. I missed those days and those friends of mine. I longed for days back on the trail. On the Divide, I felt lonely, I felt sad and scattered inside. I wasn’t a biker. I was out of my element and I was alone. After about 20 minutes I knew I had to keep making miles.
I got back in the saddle and headed uphill on highway 285 towards Poncha Pass. It was not long before I got off my bike and started walking it, the wind was making riding impossible and it was more efficient for me to walk my bike. After 5 or so miles of walking my bike uphill on the side of the highway I made a turn onto County Road 200 which would be the beginning of my climb towards the summit of Marshall Pass. Little did I know that the Wind Gods were plotting against me 🙂 It was a pretty steady climb for 16 miles. The road was not in bad shape, the riding was easy in some places and then the wind would pick up and I was off my bike, pushing it. I refused to fight the wind anymore. If I couldn’t pedal efficiently, I would walk my bike. I have no shame in walking my bike, some riders apparently do and some have even given me slack about walking my bike. For me, I enjoy walking, it gives me a chance to connect to the earth, to slow down, to see things I would not see while riding. Though nothing is enjoyable in the wind. I met a few people along my climb up towards Marshall Pass. I was lovingly jumped on by a beautiful chocolate lab at one point and then a few miles later offered a ham sandwich and water by a couple from Mexico. I stopped and chatted with them for awhile, they too commented on the wind and were trying to get out of it. We shared adventure stories and laughs, it was a very nice distraction from the wind.
I continued to walk my bike up as the road got more rocky and the wind began to pick up. If I didn’t know any better I would think that the wind was doing it on purpose 🙂 About a mile from the summit, the wind began to get extremely bad, dangerous in fact. It was ripping trees out and trees were falling on the road. When I got to the summit of Marshall Pass 10,842 feet, I wanted to hangout a bit and enjoy the views, but, the wind was so bad and I thought riding down would be helpful in getting rid of the wind. It was absolutely beautiful on the way down- the aspens, the colors, the smells, it was all so overwhelming beautiful. But the wind just kept getting worse, trees kept falling around me; I kept pedaling to try and reach Sargents for the night. I did not feel safe setting up camp with trees falling over. I needed to be out of the wind for the night. Mentally, I needed to be out of the wind. I arrived into Sargents, threw my bike down and went right into the store/restaurant. I simply could not be outside anymore for the day. I was lucky they had an open cabin and I was thrilled to be inside. A good dinner, a shower and a few phone calls to the people I love made my night.
I got a late start riding out of Hartsel, due to having to hitchhike back to the route after spending the night at my friend Beth’s house in Alma. I rode out of Hartsel and quickly turned onto county rd 53. The road was bumpy to say the least. I began to get extremely frustrated with the roughness of the road because it made riding not enjoyable. The road traveled through a few different basins and I could see the mountains rising in the distance. The road became more narrow and rougher as I rode and as the day went on. And, then, then, the wind began. Oh you know how I LOVE a great headwind while pedaling 😉 NOT! The climbs felt harder than they probably were. I was fighting myself to make miles. I was yelling at the wind, like a mad women, begging for it to stop or at least calm down a bit. It didn’t work 🙂 The final climb of the day entering into San Isabel National Forest really pissed me off. I was so beaten down by the wind. I was exhausted mentally and physically and really really really wanted to quit. I was set on quitting in Salida. I wondered what was wrong with me to desire wild adventures such as this and why I always measured my worth as a human being as to whether or not I could endure the hell these adventures presented me with. I wondered why I couldn’t be “normal”and just chose to pick the fun enjoyable sections and ride those instead of forcing myself to push through really crappy and not enjoyable sections. But inside I knew the answer and though it might seem silly to some, it’s who I am at my very core and I have to honor that, even during the times when I am doing nothing but complaining and wanting to quit. Right before the top of last climb, a man in his cabin invited me in for oranges and water. He gave me a tour of his old historic cabin and told me stories about the history of the cabin and the land. He talked about meeting other bikers and how he enjoyed helping bikers out and refueling them with water and snacks. He told me I could camp in his lawn, but, I wanted to get into Salida before dark. I graciously refused his offer and got back on my bike.
It was a long long windy windy downhill ride to highway 291, the road into Salida. When the got to the highway I was in tears, the wind had really wiped me. I didn’t enjoy the day hardly at all. That day, I just got through it, that’s all I could do. When I got into town I first went to Absolute Bikes to have my bike checked and pick up my new maps I had sent there. My maps weren’t there and I set up an appointment for the next day to have my bike looked at. I then tried to find a place to stay, all the motels were booked. Thankfully, I found a spot at the Hostel and settled in. I was so happy to find two thru hikers also staying there- finally- I was among my people, hiker trash- 🙂 the three of us enjoyed a good meal at a Mexican restaurant and exchanged stories of our time thru hiking. For the night, I forgot I was biking. I felt so content being around other thru hikers. It felt right. Then I began to feel as though I was on the wrong adventure. I am a thru hiker not a biker and there I was with my bike wishing I had my backpack instead.
I woke up the next morning feeling still tired as though I hadn’t slept. After breakfast, I dropped my bike off to get tuned- it needed new front and back rotors, back brake pads, a new chain, a new derailer cable, and a good wash. I then walked around downtown doing errands and still struggling with wanting to quit and go home. My maps still hadn’t come in by late afternoon. The guy at the bike shop made a few calls and found a friend who had the Divide maps and he kindly brought them to the hostel for me to use. My bike was all ready to continue, I wasn’t. In the morning, I had a huge breakfast cooked by my new thru hiker friend, which included a mint chocolate chip ice cream sandwich 🙂 I knew that when I left the hostel I was going to have to fight the wind again because it was already picking up. 😫 I said my goodbyes and exchanged contact info and headed out of town!! To be continued…..
In Steamboat I took a day off. My bike needed a new rear tire as the tread was almost gone, it also needed new brake pads and some other small tweaks. Both my bike and I received some love and rest in Steamboat. I am grateful to Kathy and Eric for their hospitality and kindness. I left Steamboat eager to arrive in Summit County in the next few days. Summit County is a very special place for me, I spent many many years of my life living there and had many friends I was excited to reconnect with. My first day out of Steamboat was wonderful, beautiful, and perfect. There was a lot of climbing, but, the colors, oh my goodness, the colors were amazing. I arrived at Lynx Pass Campground 39.5 miles later around 4 pm and setup my tent. I enjoyed the rest of the afternoon at camp- reading and stretching. In the early evening, Rachel and her husband, Jacob drove into the campground and took the campsite next to me. I usually always try to chat with people at campgrounds, it makes me feel like I am not all alone. Rachel and Jacob were hands down AWESOME! Unbelievably kind and interesting people. Although I kind of invited myself over to their campsite :), we quickly started up a conversation and ended up sharing a great evening together- talking about life, food, traveling, the pandemic craziness, etc. It was great to connect with these two amazing humans. They even let me have three hot dogs 🙂 The evening began to get pretty cold and I knew I needed to sleep, so I said goodbye and crawled into my tent for the night. The night was chilly and rainy, but, I stayed pretty warm for the most part.
In the early morning I packed up and left. My hands were burning because of the cold. I quickly put on my mittens and started to ride out of the campground. The day started with downhill riding and riding across highway 134. The morning air was freezing, I could see my breathe and I was so cold even though I was bundled up. 4.8 miles into the day I had to ford Rock Creek. I took my Chacos and wool socks off and walked my bike through the frigid water, my feet throbbing because of the cold, my whole body shivering. I sat down after I crossed the creek and put my socks and Chacos back on. I continued riding and in about another hour the day began to warm up and my body started feeling more alive and not so frozen. The roads were pretty good, the scenery was beautiful. After riding up and down and up and down for miles, I rode downhill into Radium. Then the climbing began to get steeper, but, the views did not disappoint. Near Inspiration Point the wind began to pick up, it kept blowing my hat off my head and making pedaling pretty hard. I got off my bike and started pushing my bike uphill, fighting against the wind and at the same time trying to enjoy the views. 31 miles into the day I got to the crest of the climbing and prepared for the 7 mile downhill 🙂 I completed the 7 miles down to highway 9 and turned towards Kremmling. I then quickly turned off the highway onto County rd 33 and decided to ride another 12 miles to get to Williams Fork Resevoir Campground. The 12 miles included a gradual climb and the wind, well, the wind was awful and I was struggling to not lose it. I hate wind. Oh my goodness. I arrived at the campground and just wanted to get out of the wind. However, the campground was pretty treeless and I surely couldn’t setup my tent in that wind. I met this fisherman guy who was camped there and I hunkered down at his site which had the only trees in the area. About two hours later the wind calmed down a bit and three other bikers arrived. They were out for a few days and I setup next to them for the night. The night got really cold.
In the morning, I noticed that my bike seat was covered in frost. So was all of my gear. It was hard to pack up that morning because it was so cold out. I left as early as I could and I was looking forward to arrive in Silverthorne/Dillon that day and meet up with my friend Mark. I bundled up as I had been doing the last few days. The air was bitter cold. I didn’t even stop to eat breakfast because I was too cold to stop. I kept riding towards Ute Pass. The climb up Ute Pass seemed to never end, it just kept going up, but the summit was so rewarding and I could finally see the Gore Range. I knew I was close to Summit County then and that I was soon going to see my buddy. I hung out at the summit for awhile, finally ate some food and took a few pictures. The Gore Range is such a great mountain range and I have had many adventures in those mountains, I was so happy to be there! I got back on my bike after awhile and rode the 5.5 miles down to highway 9, the road that would lead me into Silverthorne/Dillon 🙂 I smiled the entire 5.5 miles down to the highway. I turned on highway 9 and rode into Silverthorne. Along the way, I noticed all of the new development and how very different it had become since I lived there. I didn’t care though, I just wanted to get into town and see my buddy, Mark, it had been years since I saw him. I called him right as I got into town and we agreed to met at Lake Dillon.. To be continued….