Week 3

We've grown to discover that it's hard to leave a good host, and in Las Animas we had some great hosts--they were interested in our cause, they were accommodating of our needs (laundry! showers! beds! well, many people had beds anyway, and we all slept in comfortable climate control). Their offer to put up weary travellers the likes of us even if they're *not* on a bike tour for a great cause left us all glowing with the sheer kindness of the world. A parishoner led us out of town--which wouldn't have been necessary since it's a pretty straight shot into pueblo but they wanted to herd us past a special spot. I swept, as we descended upon Junkrassic park.

Junkrassic Park is a farm 12ish miles outside of town, which has a front yard full of amateur welded art, with incredibly punny titles. We'd grumbled a little at the detour before we got there, but as we arrived it was apparent that we'd made it to the Right Place, and many photo ops were enjoyed by all.

Claire and I brought up the rear into the town of Rocky Ford for some awesome junk food at a gas station rest stop (A fried pie! And some soda so I could stop nodding off on the bike, which I struggled with for much of the day). The day turned into a hot one as we made it into Pueblo, but sweeping was fine--I don't think the back few were ever more than 15minutes behind the rest of the group and I swept different people all day--Claire, then Katy, then Vinoj/Nelson for a bit after Nelson flatted (we raced back up to Katy in a matter of 10 minutes or so). Suddenly we had an ice cream stop - Daniel/Eric/Claire/myself at "Phat Willie's" just before the 2nd-to-last rest stop. We left, overstuffed on ice cream and french fries, and rolled through the next rest stop since we'd already rested and stopped. Usman got a flat during the second to last leg so I swept him and Vinoj into town. We arrived together at the church and immediately went to the Y for free showers (arranged by our hero, Collin). We're a lot closer to the mountains than we started out, and this cheers us all up whenever we're down, hot, or bothered, all day! Being the hungry sort, I led us out to pizza and cold drinks--the best in town (according to google, and to others we asked after the fact). Possibly the best I've ever had, but I kinda think that about every meal I have after a 90 mile day. Being a pizza fiend and a heavy eater, I convinced Eric to share a large pie with me, and ended up eating 5/8 of it when his appetite petered out after three slices and a couple of beers. He couldn't understand where I put the same amount of liquor and two extra pieces of pie, but I maintain that my hollow leg saves me embarassment and I loved every bite even if it did leave me really full. Not too full, of course, to enjoy the parting shot of "something sweet" on the house to us after we explained what we were about to the bartender. I felt full and happy, but Eric was feeling not so great, and did us the favor of riding shotgun so that when the time came, he could decorate the outside of the van via the only non-driver window that rolls down, rather than leaving his revisitation of dinner inside. I remember driving along and having a raucous good time, and then noticing his head out the window mouth-open screaming, and then realizing that he was actually emptying the tank. His aim was stellar and left little on the outside of the van, which made the morning a lot easier to handle.

Final odometer reading at the end of the day: 1030.1. Today marked mile 1,000 for me and I'm thrilled to be 1/4 of the way there...it's not late enough to feel sad for the end approaching, but it's not early enough that our milestones are insignificant, either.

Today was the third or fourth day that I made a conscious effort to remember a clever passage I'd constructed for this journal while I biked. Sadly I keep composing awesome blog-paragraphs while I'm riding and failing to remember them even at the next rest stop. I need a short-term memory replacement!

It was an awful day.

It was a great day.

I am blessed to have made it so far. I am blessed to have such wonderful teammates. I am thrilled that our hard work can pay off so thoroughly.

I was in a horrible mood yesterday morning, and it persisted until almost the end of the ride. It had nothing to do with sweeping---that was actually the best day of the entire ride to sweep. Tailwinds, friendly terrain, and strong riders all kept it from feeling like any kind of chore. But I just couldn't shake the unsmilingness that Claire kept hounding me about (like the friend she is!) until late afternoon.

Today I woke up smiling, despite sleeping really poorly due to high temperatures in the church we stayed at, and ate some extremely wonderful russian french toast (It's the same as regular french toast, only prepared by a dude of russian descent who likes to not wear shirts while he cooks. Thanks, Alex!), and then sat around waiting to go for almost an hour and a half. I'm always one of the first people ready to roll, but today was an extreme in everyone taking their time to eat, pack, and especially get their bikes ready. When we finally got through dedications (with some special local guests who'd helped arrange our stay at the church), we suffered two last-minute flats in a row that took us another 20 minutes to resolve, and then we had directions that would have sent us the wrong way down a one way street. Fortunately, Usman and I navigated us out to a proper place and we hit the road. 8 miles into the ride was a stretch of dirt road--our first. 14 miles of it. It was uneventful, except the flies that could maintain 18mph and were especially attracted to my coffee-soaked jersey (Claire had gifted me an espresso shot which I accidentally laid down on just before we finally decided to leave. Standing up was a little too wet for just dew, and yup, I'm covered in more wet than the dew can explain. No time to clean off so we set off...coffee and all.). The flies also bit. Ow. I had to keep speeding ahead to drop the flies (who didn't like the speed), but they kept coming back whenever I slowed down. Alex, Daniel, Shawn and I led the group in to the rest stop where I fortunately managed to get my jersey washed out a little bit, and suffered no more.

I led out of the rest stop as well, and all the way til we went the wrong way just before rest stop 2. We pulled into a sonic, ate up, and asked for directions...we found a great route from a local that included the pikes peak greenway which I found fairly reminiscent of the town lake trail...a little curvier and less occupied, and of course, the mountains in the background and the cool weather made it even more wonderful. I rode ahead of the group to scout it out and found it to my liking and 20mph-capable during my tests, so I convinced Collin to bring everyone over to the trailhead from the Sonic where they'd been waiting. However, after a few miles and one huge washout that we had to climb down and back up with our bikes in hand instead of underass, the prevailing opinion among the rest of the riders was that it was a lot too mountainbikey for their tastes and they were only averaging 8mph...sigh. Alex Chang had already shot ahead and never came back, so by popular consensus with dissent of only natalie, shawn, and myself, we took an exit from the trail out towards the freeway...

That was the second route on the same day which I'd mapped, that failed to deliver us. I was totally demoralized; everyone was sitting on the side of the road. I felt like a failure and like I couldn't do anything right. It turns out that the trail route was totally fine since Alex took it all the way into town and finished in fine time, but we didn't know that yet. The weather was looking pretty threatening to the north, and our attempt to ride on the highway we found that went straight to the church was lacking a shoulder and contained way too much traffic, so we sat and waited for the van to come sag us in. Just before the van pulled up, though, a random rider passed on the road we were sitting on and gave us some suggested directions, and so a group of 8 decided we'd fight the weather and give it a try--after all, people suffering through chemotherapy can't sag it in! The rest of the group was tired enough of bumbling through town and wary enough of the weather and the fact that it was rush hour in one of the biggest cities we'd ridden through so far, and took the ride.

So then there were 8: me, Usman, Nelson, Eric, Vinoj, Collin, Shawn, and Alex...and our directions were a combination of google maps (our hero) and random cyclist suggestion. It turned out to be nearly entirely uphill. It was hardcore. I broke a 40mph speed limit heading downhill on a busy street towards a red light that turned green with perfect timing. It was harder than lost creek in austin. I couldn't shift into my lowest set of gears. There was heavy rush hour traffic. We were low on water.

Despite all that, we dominated the hills. One after another, we marched up, stuck together, loved the pain, and rode for everyone who couldn't ride...friends who are gone (I dedicated the ride to my favorite dog ever, Pong), family who are still fighting, and people we've met. But by the end of the ride, I was riding for my team members. After an hour of hills at the end of a long day, it had gotten really personal. Everyone who hadn't made it was missed, and we were riding as a strong team...and I was riding for everyone who wasn't there. Each hill was hard, but I made it with my friends in my head. I made it for everyone, not just for me. I felt like superman; we were rockstars, and we finally crested the last hill and saw the whole Front Range dominated by Pikes Peak. And then we coasted in down a suddenly-appeared-after-15-miles-of-danger-riding bike lane, met the team, and ate some awesome grub provided by a rider from last year who lives in the Springs now. It was such a huge victory. The 8 of us had some big hugs, high fives, and we...won. It was the hardest day so far. It was the best day so far. I can't wait to get back on the bike tomorrow.

But for now, the hot tub.

So, myspace apparently outed me on the birthday situation, and I got a ton of "happy birthday!"'s and the (apparently?) traditional Russian ear-pulling instead of the spankings this morning, and it was good. Also good was waking up in a hotel room bed, with my own bathroom...it was a deluxe early birthday present! Apparently Nathan Archer knew someone in the hotel business and so got us our own conference room to sleep in--and then when we arrived the manager on duty saw how much we could use a shower and donated a suite on top of that. We really had it great...

After the routing fiasco in the Springs, and the subsequent killer victory ride, I was exhausted and didn't last long in the hot tub with Claire and on the phone with Lori. I crashed out in an empty bed which someone else had won fair & square by drawing straws, but for some reason didn't want...and woke up spooning with Vinoj. During the night I got my laundry done by a laundry gnome (which freaked me out when I went to get it from the laundry room in the morning and found it gone! But it was in a pile in the middle of our conference room, as it turned out). I'm pretty sure I got more sleep than almost anyone so I sprung from bed at 5am and was ready in record time (due no doubt to the lack of having to pack up my sleeping gear) and took the extra time to fish more chunks of glass and rock out of my tire (none of which caused a flat--go Armadillo tires!), and superglued all the divots for a little extra protection. Some folks do this every morning, but I found over the course of the trip that the armadillos really don't ever require that attention to keep on rollin'. Even so, I did the tire check about once a week for the next several weeks until I grew so complacent that I just stopped somewhere in the middle of Canada and didn't suffer much for it.

We had a pretty touching dedication--a couple of local ladies had come out to add dedications, and the hotel staff had seen about all these half-naked bikers running around and sent out a couple of kitchen/janitorial staff to add their dedications as well...one was in spanish but was so heartfelt that I understood it even with the translation only half-heard. After that we rode out directly, though of course there was an hour between me being done doing anything useful and us even starting the dedication. Alex and I are perpetually ready way before everyone else and need to start scheming on a way to cash in that time for sleep instead of standing around useless or fixing other people's bikes/cleaning up their messes. But hey, we're a team and we don't mind helping out...we just wish everyone else were as efficient at getting ready as we are =). We did the dedication in the parking lot outside the hotel that afforded a really awesome view of the mountains.

The ride out was slated to be kind of tough--700 foot climb in the first seven miles. But the weather was divine and so we headed out at a good pace, though the hills slowed people down a little, and I got my first flat after a few miles...glass through the sidewall! didn't even see it on the street but felt the tire going and got to listen to the last of the air escaping as i rolled to a stop. I still haven't given up on the armadillos but my faith is shaken. Daniel waited for me while I changed it, and then we started back up. I was instantly regretting my continued lack of a low gearset...huffin' and puffin' and I actually had to take a breather about 100 yards from the top, much to my shame. But then I had new legs, or only-slightly-used legs (feeling remarkably good despite yesterday's abuse), and was fast the rest of the day, leading sometimes, coasting sometimes, through very scenic backcountry colorado. We were up high and off the interstate and it was gorgeous.

Just outside Denver, pretty close to Aurora, Alex and Shawn and I were hopping through the suburbs in the mid-20s mph range when the road started to get dicey. Still huge & smooth, but no shoulder and much traffic. Alex & I shot out ahead to scout the road. We made it up to I-225, the loop around the outside of Denver, when literally 5 lanes exited within a couple blocks, at highway speeds, which is extremely treacherous riding territory. We discovered a sidewalk that bypassed the trouble zone and I raced back to guide the team...they accepted my directions with much skepticality, considering that the last time I'd scouted directions, Colorado Springs happened. Upon grudging acceptance, I turned around to lead and immediately fell over, still clipped into my bike with one foot. From a standstill. The most popular falling-over-scenario, as it turns out. No major damage to me or the machine, just my pride...so I got up and led them via sidewalk and got mad props due to the yuck we avoided as we got back on the road.

Into town and our directions were a spiral of confusion. I knew it was indirect, and when we actually passed the bike trail for the second time, I pulled out my map and convinced Daniel we should just take it over to the church...which is like a block off the trail. We get most of the way and I get a red flag in the last lap as we make 2 wrong turns within a block of the church. Stupid binary dyslexia. Sigh.

Anyway not much time was wasted and we arrived safe and got settled in for a few minutes...before Katy and Alex and I headed out to a bike shop to remedy some urgent issues on their bikes. The bike shop? 4 miles down the bike trail! My old skating grounds...I didn't even bike when I lived in Denver last, but I skated the heck out of those trails and I've really missed them. So I led them down, and then took off intending to come back to the church...but couldn't resist the trail. So I turned away from the church, and followed Cherry Creek up to the Platte River. It's rained *a lot* around here--the creek and the Platte were both fuller than I've ever seen them! And, they'd redone the confluence area park and there were at least a hundred folks sunning and splashing. I'd never seen anyone older than 5 in the creek before for good reason...it usually smells a lot nasty. Today, it was remarkably clear and unsmelly, so I dropped my bike next to some others, stripped down to my shorts, and jumped in.

When I dropped my bike, I noticed some pretty nifty bikes and a tall bike in the same pile, and a girl came over and said "that's where the cool kids park their bikes." So I became cool by proxy and we chatted a little after I soaked. Her name is Rose, and her friend is Conner (or Condor?), and we traded banter about places, biking, and life. They were really nifty folks who ended up giving me their number and telling me to drop by if I needed crash space, and also telling me about the bike coop they work with and another one up in Fort Collins that I might go visit.

The bike trail was as smooth and wonderful as I remembered it, though I went probably only about 8 miles on it before turning around. The headwind is also just as intense as I remembered, so the way back was a lot slower than the way up, but still a happy memory-laden trip fueled by joy and tired legs. I mentioned to Rose that I must have left a little of my heart in Denver, since I felt so at home as soon as I got into town, and I'm the de-facto reference for local directions, and we totally stumbled on one of the few paths I could navigate down with certainty...and the church is right on the trail, by the mall, by my old dwelling. Wow, what a series of happinesses that was! And now I'm waiting for Tim to call and we'll go out and have a few celebratory drinks and reminisce about good times. Denver remains a great place to visit.

We'll take off late tomorrow to do an event at a partner of Sense Corp's before heading to Boulder, so we'll be sleeping in (hopefully I'm sleeping at Tim's in a bed or anyway on something softer than the gym floor at this church). And, I'm driving tomorrow, so it won't matter if we take the bike trail out of town (my suggestion) or out the long way past the Coors brewery and through the foothills. Windy and crazy. either way. Boulder means a day off...hopefully a massage and some bike-love, and seeing some great sights. I find myself anticipating the evening more than the morning for once!

Crap. This entry was written inspiredly in the Boulder public library, and the website ate it and replaced it with the entry from the next day. I didn't discover that for almost a week, so my memory is a bit vague, but I'll try to recount what went down.

Tim finally came by and grabbed me and my gear and took me out for a sandwich before heading over to his place to sample some of his homebrew and pet his dogs. He has my second favorite dog in the world, named Montana. Montana's pretty old, but back when I lived in Denver she was still very active and would come over and take us out for walks or just hang out at my place harassing my kitties. Tim was probably my best friend in Denver by the time I left, so it was great to catch up...and he makes some great beer, and has a very comfortable couch, which made for great sleeping!

[Montana died a couple of weeks after I visited. I am blessed to have seen her before she went to chase tennis balls and play with kitties in the sky.]

Tim got me back to the church pretty early since he had to go to work similarly early, so I had some time to blog and find a route for folks who were riding, as well as for myself-in-the-car. Collin woke up and we hurriedly planned breakfast, and realized we needed eggs to make our plan happen, so I'm rushing out the door when Amy comes to me tearfully asking to borrow my phone to call after hers--which turns out to be downtown with a friend. I convince the friend to bring the phone out when I call, so I call forth what remains of my former pizza-driver-fu and blast through town to the address, scoop up the phone and a smile from the friend, hit the whole foods on the way back for eggs and syrup, and return triumphant to deliver a phone to a very happy Amy and cook some fantablous french toast. It's pretty cool to cook in an industrial-sized kitchen--you can cook a lot of stuff simultaneously so breakfast prep took only an hour or so instead of the typical 2. Of course, an industrial-sized mess resulted so I spent the rest of the time cleaning the kitchen several times as people came in and out and used the sinks after I was sure the eating was finished. Ce'st la vie.

It was a really short route but the first 16 miles were really awful straight-up city roads, (imagine Lamar or Berry), and the last few miles couldn't decide if it was a highway with a shoulder or a big street with turn lanes. I was trying to play chase car for the crew as they cruised down the road, but it seemed to me to be even more unsafe than letting the riders fend for themselves. Fortunately, we were led out by a character named Brian who we picked up at a poorly organized corporate event wishing Claire's whole-ride dedication, Carson, the best & quickest recovery. That part was neat but it took forever to set up. We were rewarded with a lunch before we'd had a chance to work up a hunger after breakfast, sadly. That it stretched out til 2pm (in Denver, before we'd even rolled one block on bikes) kind of put a crimp in our day and we had to hurry to Boulder in time to get to a concert that our corporate sponsor had hooked us up with. We were going to get a plug on stage, and get to pass the hat for donations too. However, the concert was just an amateur orchestra in the park, whose high point was Nelson being surprised from slumber to find out he was going to conduct the orchestra. He played a totally good sport and went up there and did it all the way--T4K style!

As soon as we'd gotten to Boulder, unloaded the trailer, and gotten the bikers into the church, it was time to head out to the concert...and of course, Boulder being entirely bike friendly meant I wanted to ride my bicycle over to the park! Nobody was interested in joining me but I hauled butt on my very fresh legs and made good time to the park where I joined everyone else, listened to music for awhile, and then headed off to get some dinner and scout out the downtown zone. I visited the library and wild oats to verify that they were still there and find the hours...and Wild Oats was still open so I bought some more soap since I was running out, and then stopped by my favorite Boulder bookstore for a bike map of the area, and then headed over to Illegal Pete's on the Pearl Street mall for dinner. It was every bit as good as I remembered--it's just burritos but it's even better than freebirds, and has a full bar as well. I convinced the rest of the team to join me and they piled over in the van and ate some burritos themselves, before we did a tour of the mall with me doing some show-and-tell for the benefit of everyone who was looking for something to do on their day off tomorrow, and followed that up with free libations courtesy of a former t4k rider (I believe it was Keith from 2005), and finally ended with some hearty drinking down at my favorite local microbrewpub, the Mountain Sun. We bought a round and then during negotiations for the second the bartenders managed to figure out what our mission for the summer was, and suddenly our money was no good there. We shut the place down and I got a ride back to the church in the van (along with my bike) since, well, people were too nice to make me bike uphill in the dark with the amount of weaving I would have had to do by that point =)

I think the point of the title was that driving days are sad days except for the getting-to-support-the-team parts, and I was pretty well robbed of that by the hurried nature of the single rest stop--we were in such a hurry to get to Boulder. At least I spent some time while I waited at the rest stop googling from my phone and plumbing the depths of my memory for layouts of Boulder and things to do, so I had a good list to share the next morning! Oh, that, and since I wrote this entry in the public library...I'd only ever visited it in skates before, so it was highly strange to arrive via bicycle =)

Morning came early and I got up at 7 so I could get a full day in. It took me til 8 to sort myself out with a shower and get my bike back to functional, and I led Alex C, Claire, and Alex M down to the best breakfast ever (biscuits! and more!) at Lucile's which Shay introduced me to back in 2001. I am proud to inform you that it's still exactly as good as it ever was, Shay! Everyone raved about it and we ate til the bike store opened at 10. I got some adjustments made and left my bike there for a minor overhaul while I went for a massage, lower body wax, and a walk around Boulder. I stumbled upon Daniel and Alex S after picking up my bike and finished up my errands (Castelli came through with replacement shorts just before the two-week-old pair I'd been using became obscene thanks to an ever widening hole in the thigh. Now I'm biking in style--bright blue!) as the afternoon turned to evening.

All day all that everyone in our group could talk about was how bike-friendly and bike-filled Boulder is. It's so wonderful to be a cyclist here. You are a first-class citizen on the road--and some roads are set up so that cyclists get special treatment (allowed to go the wrong way on one-way streets and the like). It's refreshing but only serves to make me realize that biking the mean streets elsewhere really has a long way to come towards optimal.

Sometime in there I pointed Eric towards one of my favorite hikes in Boulder, the Mount Sanitas loop. It went over well, judging from the pictures and the excitement of the group that I picked up at the end of their hike, though I didn't have time to make it up there myself.

I finally got a chance to open my avalanche of mail (I believe I received as much as the rest of the team combined--thanks so much, guys! I'll be fat in no time =)), but I definitely felt very loved. I got so much food that I didn't know what to do with it all, so I ate one of each item, stowed what I could in my bag, and donated the rest to the team. *Everyone* on the team now loves all of you folks =)

My evening shall consist of some fine sushi eating [which, strangely, turned out to include me giving away some of my dinner to the guy sitting next to me as indeed, them eyes were bigger than the stomach...as well as a lady sitting a bit down the bar from me leaving me her phone number in a furtive note saying nothing more than "i think you're sexy, call me." it was weird and uplifting, i think =)]

Tonight marks the third time I've biked from where we're staying in Gunbarrel down to Boulder. I'll also probably get to bike back tonight, which I haven't done yet, which is mostly uphill. It'll be a nice change of pace to get a bit of a workout!

This time on the way into town, I got to take my favorite trail from days of sk8, the Boulder Creek trail. I zipped down the entire length-as-I-knew it to the library, where I'm writing this blog.

I was last in the library in 2002, no doubt after a skate, wearing my slip-on ninja shoes that I carried while skating. That was about the only time I came in here...for a drink/bathroom break/quick computer fix. I'm thrilled to be back, and still wearing strange shoes---only this time it's my bike shoes. And I feel a little at home even though I'm miles from most of my friends, family, and possessions. It was strange but still somehow ok to put "no address" on the massage info form today. I'm homeless, but I'm happy.

Today wasn't about the ride. The ride was uneventful, smooth and quick. What inspired me today was some people we talked with at the mountain sun brewery last night.

We'd been in the previous night and met a bartender named Anabelle, who was very gracious and generous and friendly...but there were 12 of us there and we didn't get to chat at length. Last night Shawn and I were the only ones who had enough stamina left to get a last beer in the town I fell back in love with and which at least 10 people on the team professed a serious desire to live in at some point in the near future over the course of our nearly 40 hours in town.

We'd both biked into town from Gunbarrel and found Anabelle working at the bar, and her friend Sarah was there as well. Anabelle had heard what we were doing last night and soon the 4 of us got to talking about cancer in our lives. As I may have mentioned before, cancer hasn't had a direct, profound effect on my life--none of my friends have died of it, and only a few family and friends have suffered and most have beat it handily. And I love that--I want nothing more than for all of the people I know and love to be and remain healthy forever. But it also makes me hungry to give hope to other people since I have some to spare.

Sarah's mom died almost exactly 7 months ago of anal cancer; she loved her mother very much. Sarah was touched beyond words and to tears by what we were doing and immediately went to dig in her purse to give us all the money she had. We asked her not to, but to instead take some hope from what we were doing and to spread the word. Her talking openly with us and commemorating and celebrating her mother's life and memory..sharing her deepest fears and anxieties with a couple of strangers, and believing in us, was invaluable. Anabelle had some friends we rode for as well, and when we finally but very regretfully said goodbye at midnight, we exchanged at least 3 hugs apiece. It was such an affirmation of what we're doing, and it made today's ride almost effortless.

At the dedication this morning, I had trouble focusing the camera through the tears as Shawn told the story, and the pedals were light beneath my feet through the day. We lifted a little sadness, and spread a lot of hope yesterday. This journey is such a tremendously powerful experience. I'm so thrilled to be undertaking it =)

After pulling into Fort Collins, we got setup in the church and had some hearty time to kill. We got showered, did some blogging (or anyway I did), and figured out how to get to the New Belgium Brewery. Almost everyone went even though some were under 21, and those of us who were of age got to sample some nifty beers. Having had everything that they sell in Texas, I sampled the 3 new brews that held interest for me--a witbeer, a sour peach ale, and a sour oak-aged ale. I also had the abbey which I thought I'd remembered trying (but now don't think I had), and I got some skinny dip since it was the most novel of the ones I'd already tried. As well, I got to try a special brew called "Terroir" which one cannot find outside of the brewery. Too bad it was my favorite! Never fear, these were all 4-oz samples which only made me slightly tipsy since we were drinking in advance of taking an evening meal.

Dinner was provided free of charge by the Rio Grande Restaurant, courtesy of Peyton from the Sierra route--she works at the sister restaurant in Austin! It was tasty and filling..too filling, in fact, for us to want to head back out to the New Belgium brewpub for some fullsized drinks. You know I'm a tired boy when I can't muster the energy to go for some microbrews fresh out of the barrels. Sigh. So instead we did a little bike maintenance and zonked out.

The next morning we visited the Fort Collins Rotary Club and were very well fed, and were donated $500! I never had any idea what the Rotary Club was about and now I'm kind of interested in joining it someday. It looks like a thing one does when one's settled in rather than still roving around so I'll file that one on the back burner. But I was very impressed by their generosity and their mission.

We got led out by some locals, Eric and Bill, along pretty bike paths...and Michael played us some thunderstruck (he'd secretly bought the CD yesterday) as an anthem on the way out, which was invigorating even if brief. Eric had to peel off after a few miles but Bill stayed with us for 20 miles, and when he left at the first rest stop, we were in good spirits...because we hadn't yet discovered the incredibly vicious headwinds. They started up about coincident with the steady 3300 foot climb into Wyoming, much to our dismay.

Also dismaying momentarily was that Alex and Daniel took off without Collin and myself towards the border. It turned out that I was in no shape to challenge them, since they went straight through and I had to stop and stretch a few times (climbing so strenuously on a not-quite-fitting-right bike was a little taxing on my lower back and rather than suffer lots now and who knows how much later, I stopped to stretch. I know, how unlike me to do the sensible thing...)

Anyhow, Daniel won the race by quite a bit, and I came in 5th, which was better than my starting position and not in the least disappointing...I was pretty happy to just have made it the whole way in reasonable time. In fact, I was proud of the whole team--nobody gave up on what was undoubtedly our toughest ride so far, and everyone even finished within 45 minutes of my arrival, which was probably within 15 minutes of the lead pack. Usually when the going gets tough, the team gets really spread out between the people who are pushing hard to finish and those who get tired. One day it was me who got tired, back in Oklahoma, and it's been various other people on other days. Anyhow the whole group kicked butt and took names and celebrated with a group photo before I was struck with a quick bout of urgent, explosive diarrhea and only barely made it over a ridge in time to relieve myself. Believe it or not, that was the only time for the whole trip I was to take a crap on the side of the road, and I felt fine after taking care of business.

The cruise down into Wyoming was so windy as to be scary. Downhill but working to maintain 12mph...ugh. That first 10 miles was pretty tough, and our only rewards for perservering were 3 fireworks stands in the middle of nowhere. And pacelining only helped a little. Fortunately the next 16 miles were fine and Nelson and I cruised in with a big gap to a totally awesome welcoming committee--standing on the corner of the main street waiting for us and waving us in! They had no idea when we were going to show up since we'd vastly exceeded initial estimates, but we arrived to quite a reception including snacks and personalized host families! Collin, Michael and I were assigned to Liz & Elliot Johnson, who were entirely wonderful to us--cooking us a great dinner, letting us watch the sunset off their deck, and swinging us by their neighbor's place. Their neighbor, whose name totally escapes me, is the regional distributor for budweiser, and so plied us with beer until we were all in a very happy place. We chatted about everything and nothing into the evening and got a little drunk. The one thing I can remember most clearly is mentioning our destination to the neighbor and having him go nuts about spending some time up in Anchorage. So, I asked him for suggestions of something to do with my parents...and he thinks a minute before he comes up with, "The Great Alaskan Bush Club!". I write this down dutifully and ask what kind of club is it? What do they have there? And with accompanying hand gesture, out roars "Huge Titties!" and a guffaw. We all laugh and I erase the note in my palmpilot.

Liz has cooked us an awesome dinner and we all get our own rooms to sleep in, and mine even comes with a private bathroom. I luxuriate in the view before heading down to shower (for the first time in my life, I know that I prefer 104 degree shower water. Their shower has a labelled hot water faucet!), and then said hello to the stars for a bit (they have a great view of the entire surrounding area from their deck) before starting laundry, crashing, and sleeping tremendously well.