Cycling

My breakfast this morning is leftover pizza. I put the three cold pieces into the broiler of the camp stove. A few minutes later, I am enjoying hot pizza. I relax in the shade as time slides by. It dawns on me that I forgot coffee. Well, with a slow shuffle, I gather the ground beans and boil water. The Aeropress sits with coffee over the filter. The moment arrives, boiling bubbles in the pot. I pour and enjoy the aroma before pressing. With coffee in a cup, I find my way to the waiting chair.

Time goes by, and I get bored. I suggest that we walk in the bike lane to the footbridge over the Colorado River. There is a trail into a small canyon. We walk the trail to the edge of bush whacking into brush. It is hot, and Moe is panting. We head back to the boat ramp where Nancy carries Moe to the river and gently lowers him into the water. He looks at me through eyes of mixed messages. He looks panicked and relieved to be cooling.

We had planned to go back into Arches National Park after dinner. But, somehow, we dozed off until 6:30 p.m. We searched and found The Spoke on Center, a nice restaurant with a dog-friendly patio. Great food and excellent margaritas. Moe was treated like royalty, a bowl of ice water, an ice cream pup cup, and pats and squees from the staff.

We get back to our site to see a full moon, red from the fires.

After breakfast, Nancy walked over to the stile to get into the nature preserve behind the campground. Moe did a vocabulary of sounds in protest.

Today is a laid-back whatever happens day. It is hot and windy. Laundry is on the list; there is a nice laundry room in this campground.

The day drags, and just like that, the time is 4:30. Moe gets his dinner; Nancy and I put in a takeout order from Moab Canyon Pizza Company. Nancy comes back with our dinner; this is great pizza. Moe also gives his approval.

Now it’s time for Nancy and me to drive into Arches National Park. Moe has no idea and is a bit confused as to why we didn’t follow him into the camper. The door closes, the car starts, and Moe has begun counting all the forevers he must endure before our return.

Early evening is a wonderful time to be in this park. The crowds have dwindled, and so has the heat.

Landscape Arch at sunset.

The sun gives way to the moon. At Landscape Arch, we meet Allen, and we visit on our return to our cars.

Driving into our site, we see that we have new neighbors on both sides now. We hear Moe as we walk to the camper door. Moe is happy and relieved that we did not stay away an infinite forevers.

Why are “good intentions” never good outcomes? I had a bundle of “good intentions” last night. I would get up early and start riding before the heat. But instead, I start cooking breakfast at the time I had planned to leave. As a result, the day is already blistering. I stop at the camp store and buy three 20-ounce Gatorades. I drink one and fill both my insulated bottles with the other two. Before riding out of our site, I stuffed food and a third bottle of water into a sack that is strapped to the rack on the bike.

Out of the campground, I pause at the busy double highway that goes into Moab. At first chance, I zip through an open slot of traffic to the center turn lane and wait for my escape to the trailhead of the bike trail that I will follow to Arches National Park.

I wait in line for my turn to enter the Park. I get to the window, and the Ranger asks how she can help. “I would like to ride to the Arches.” She tells me to just go ahead; I’m riding a bicycle.

I am climbing the switchbacks up the side of a cliff. I gain five hundred feet of elevation in the first mile.

The Park road is a gradual climb through the rock formations.

I am at the Arches named the Windows. This is my turn-a-round for today. There are pit toilets; that’s it.

No place to sit and eat, so I plant my checks on the bottom rail of a fence and eat peanut butter crackers. I am also enjoying ice-cold Gatorade from an insulated bottle.

I start following the road back to the Park entrance. The wind has picked up and is, of course, a headwind. I am now on a downhill grade, but I need to pedal into the strong wind.

I get to the switchbacks and gingerly make my way to the bottom and stop at the Visitor Center and find a bench in the shade.

I get onto the bike trail that will bring me back to the campground.

It is now Nancy’s turn to go to the Arches. Moe and I sit in hard-found shade, and I rehydrate. Nancy returns with excitement and plans for tomorrow. We sit eating sandwiches and watch the moon light the sky.

The day we leave for Utah is here.

We are awake and getting ready to leave. It is sprinkling as the car and camper are being loaded. We opt for an easy, relaxed morning, so breakfast is not on the menu. At least not now. Montrose is a few hours down the road, and with searching, we find some options for a late breakfast.

We drive into a parking lot next to the Backstreet Bagel Company. They have seating outside. Moe is glad to be joining us.

We drive through scenery that looks a lot like Utah, with the Christmas melody playing in my head.

Route 50 brings us to Interstate 70. Every mile looks more and more like Utah. The melody is ever-present.

I notice that now the mile marker is posting Mile 1.  Nancy and I agree that we must be in Utah. Around a bend, we see the state sign.

We drive past the entrance to Arches National Park. Our campground is just a few more miles ahead. We turn into Sun Outdoors Arches Gateway Campground. We are here before 3 pm and the check-in is easy. We drive to our site and set up the camper. I can finally shower. No showers at the last campground. Nancy does a load of laundry. I am back at the site, clean and fresh. Nancy heads to the shower house. I keep Moe company while he works through his separation anxiety. His mommy is out of sight oh no.

Moe and I are visiting with the couple in the next site. They recommend the Broken Oar Restaurant. We call and ask if Moe would be welcome in the outdoor patio. Yes, he is.

We arrive and meet a couple with their granddaughter, Amelia. Paul and his wife. In the nineteen-nineties, they had a cabin in Wendel, MA. Once seated on the patio, our waiter Vinnie comes over with a water bowl for Moe. I order the smoked brisket, Nancy the shrimp and chips. Moe tastes each, and all is safe to eat. Moe has second thoughts, doubting his certainty, so another testing is needed.

For dessert, I choose the chocolate mousse cake, and Nancy orders the berry-lemon mascarpone. Moe agrees with our choices.

Now we settle into the night, enjoying a cool, dry breeze.

Talking with a park ranger, I learned that all this haziness and red sun is a result of the fires in Utah. Some are in Moab; this is where we are heading tomorrow.

Being our last day here in Colorado, we decided to drive the forty-seven miles to the south rim.

In the park, we begin the drive, stopping at the trail parking spaces, and we hike the trails. Our first hike to Tomichi Point Overlook is enough to make this trip worth every effort, hazy views, and smell of smoke.

Next is a hike to Pulpit Rock Overlook.

Next is Cross Fissures View.

This is Chasm View and Painted Wall View.

We finish the hike at Sunset View.

After this jaw-dropping four-hour hike, we head back to our campsite. As we leave, we see flashes of lightning above the mountain range. It is raining as we leave the entrance. Moe doesn’t like thunder, and apparently, he doesn’t like the sound of large raindrops splatting on the windshield. He is on my lap, quivering.

What an epic way to exit Colorado and bring our tour to Utah.

I woke feeling fresh. I had set the alarm for 5:30. I climb out of bed and dress for the day, the same clothes as yesterday and yesterday’s yesterday clothes. I’m feeling good with high hopes. The Warmshowers I set up for last night will host me tonight. I have a forty-seven-mile day to Salida. The ride there will be fairly easy, no passes today.

I un-climb  the stairs to the first floor and walk to the kitchen where Daniel is cooking breakfast: a sausage and egg burrito with orange juice and coffee.

My panniers and gear were brought down before following the aroma of cooking food. I load my bike and say goodbye with many thank yous. This family are not Warmshowers hosts and yesterday they had never heard of the cycle touring organization. And yet, they are very warm and welcoming hosts.

I pedal way, wishing I had more time to visit and get to know them. I wind out on the gravel road that will bring me back to my route.

It sure is beautiful here. I’m in a valley with soaring mountains on both sides.

I turn on the side road Co. Road 1A. This seven-mile road is on a plateau and the last two miles are steep with sharp curves. My brakes are all that is keeping my speed below 50 mph. I end at the junction of Rt 50 in Cotopaxi that will take me to Salida.

If I stay with my hosts in Salida, I will be one day behind schedule to meet Nancy at Elk Creek Campground ten miles past Gunnison, seventy-four miles away. Monarch Pass is ten miles beyond Salida. It is steep and long, making a difficult ride to Elk Creek. 

I weigh my options: either a long, difficult day tomorrow or have Nancy pick me up as she is coming up from behind on this road. I stop a few miles short of Salida for a snack and water. Within a minute, I see her approach. She stops, we load the bike and gear into the camper. I call and cancel my Warmshowers.

Monarch Pass is as difficult a climb as I’ve been told, and the long, steep curves with barely any shoulder on the edge that drops far below would not have been fun on a loaded bike. Way too much traffic, mostly RVs and trucks.

Here we are at Elk Creek. One more day here before heading to Moab, Utah.

I’m sleeping in the host’s stealth camper, so there are no windows. It is dark with the exception of a dull blue glow coming from the electrical box charging my phone. I check my phone to get a sense of time. I want to leave early, no later than 7 a.m. It is 3:30. I put my head back on the pillow.

I wake up in a panic and look at my phone. It is 7:30 a.m. My brain is thinking, “ SHIT!” My body is in midair, ready to land on the floor. I get dressed and put the sleeping gear back into panniers, open the door, and head for the house. Johnny is in the kitchen, and Kristin is on her computer already at work.

I eat half of the breakfast burrito and pack the rest to eat on the ride. Today is a seventy-four-mile ride to Salida. We say our goodbyes, and I thank them once more for hosting. I roll the bike through the garage door and onto the road. The pedals turn and the wheels go ‘round and ‘round. In less than a mile I am at the base of a fifteen-mile climb up Hardscrabble Pass.

I finally reach the top three and a half hours later.

I begin the drop to the valley. West Cliff is the small town where I can refill all my bottles with water. I am almost out. A cyclist on a loaded bike is coming toward me. We both stop and visit. This morning he left Howard, a town just east of Salida and is heading to Pueblo for the night.

I stop at a country store in Silver Cliff, right on the border of Westcliffe, they might as well be the same town. I doubt my ability to ride another fifty miles to Salida. At best, I would not get there by dark. I decide to sit in a chair on the shaded porch and figure out my options. There is an RV park within a mile. A young man walks by and asks about my loaded bike and where I’m traveling from and to. I ask if he knows of places to camp on the way to Salida. He mentions a few places along my route that are National Forest.

We visit while I finish the ice cream and Gatorade. He pauses and asks if I’d like to stay the night at his house. I thank him, and we load everything into his pickup.

Sitting on the porch, I am pointing out a mountain peaks in the distance. He tells me their names and where they are located.

We have a nice beef and noodle casserole with salad and dessert, compliments of Khristina, on the front porch.

 Daniel leases land for raising beef cattle just up on a grassy slop behind his house. He invites me for a ride in an ATV to check on the herd. He also brings his eighteen-month-old daughter Gracelynn.

Now back on the porch we watch deer, wild turkeys, and a rabbit while discussing our tour and their plans for the near-future Alaskan trip.

Life is good; people are kind.

I will be riding my bike to Wetmore. I went through there in 2022 on the TransAm. Today I will start at Lake Pueblo. In 2022 I started in Fowler, which is forty-five miles east. That year getting to Wetmore was a long day. This year I only have twenty-seven miles. I do remember this stretch from four years ago. It is desert, hot, and nothing along the way.

I am headed to a Warmshowers host. They will get home around 3 p.m. My 11 a.m. start should be perfect timing. I say goodbye to Nancy and Moe. Moe does not want me to go. Nancy has an easy feeling.

I ride out of the park and onto Route 96, the only road to Wetmore. I am in the southern Colorado desert. It is well beyond hot. Stifling is the word.

I remember the brutal mile-long climb just before Wetmore. I am not looking forward to the climb and will deal with it when I get there. I get there and I am out of water, like I was in 2022. My legs begin cramping. I have two miles left. I press on regardless.

In town I ride down the street of my hosts. I slow looking at house numbers. I hear a voice, “Are you Russ”? I stop and reply, “You must be Johnny”.

Kristin and Johnny are wonderful hosts. I settle in and they begin preparing dinner. While dinner is cooking I am offered Smoked Salmon that they caught while in Alaska last year. The Salmon on crackers led to the main course, BBQ sirloin, baked potato, and salad.

I am warned, bears come into town and their yard. The drought up north is driving the bears south looking for food.

Two people drove into the campsite next to us late last night. We were ready to fall asleep. Then the noise: loud talking, music, and truck revving. Now wide awake again, lying with my head on a pillow, I comment my disgust. It is two hours after curfew.

This morning, I step outside into cool morning air. The wind is blowing a fresh chill; it is nice outside. I check the weather; this comfort will not last. The high for the day will be 100°. I cook oatmeal, then brew coffee, and tuck into a small patch of shade.

Nancy goes shopping, and Moe and I stay hiding in the shade. Nancy brings back cold macaroni salad and a watermelon. Then she comes out of the camper wearing a bathing suit. At the rock overlooking the lake, she impresses a group of college students daring each other to jump. She walks by calling them wimps and jumps off into the water below. One of the group caught this on video. It will be up on her blog soon.

We drive over to another campground loop, and I take a shower. The water never got above cold. It felt good cooling off and getting clean.

The neighbors are banging out mainstream Motown, and a car just went by vibrating the ground with ghetto bass.

Nancy takes Moe on his nightly walk and stops at the site, saying she likes the music. We have extra watermelon and want to bring half over to them. I go over also, and we visit. They are three generations enjoying life.

Tonight’s sunset.

Breakfast, fast and easy with little clean-up. We need to be out of our site by 10 a.m. A park ranger driving by the campground stops and tells our neighbor to leash his dog. He replies, “This is not my dog.” He tries to lure the dog to him with treats. The ranger is now walking up to the dog cautiously, saying, “Be careful, we don’t know what the dog will do.” I go over to the screen tent to tell Nancy. She walks over with Moe, the dog walks over to Moe. The ranger now has a secure grip on the dog’s collar. We tell the ranger the area that we think the owner of his dog is camping. All is well.

I finish brewing coffee, Nancy and Moe walk over to our neighbor. My coffee is done, I also walk over. Harrison introduces himself, and we do the same. We enjoy a nice conversation that lasts a while. Then I remember we need to finish packing up. Once packed and driving out of our site, we stop and I hand Harrison my card. He was interested in following our tours.

The drive to Pueblo.

We park the camper in our site and drive back to Pueblo. Nancy has a prescription to pick up. I go to Urgent Care. About a week ago, I noticed a sore on my lower back. It now itches and is painful. While Nancy is at the pharmacy, I am at Urgent Care. I have a three-inch area of red rash, and in the center is a bite. It appears to be a spider bite. I now have an antibiotic.

We bring ice cream back to camp along with ice and Dr. Peppers. The ice cream is already no more. Sitting in the shade, I contacted the two Warmshowers hosts for tomorrow and the next night. I still need to go through the panniers to not overbring what I will not be using the three nights before meeting up with Nancy.

The sun drops a bit, and it is cool. We walk the trails. The sunset is in different spots.