The little hotel we stayed at in Howard had zero service, no TV(not that we ever watch it, and we were both exhausted, anyhow) and no space, as we pinned each other in multiple times trying to pack our panniers in the morning. We are grateful for a bed a locked door, so the e can't really complain about the space... Not to mention it provides us with much entertainment. We have a wonderful skill of taking over a room within 5 minutes of being there... Bike sorts, smelly socks, gloves, and the Ziploc bags of everything essential that we need. We are like tornadoes. Our bikes are hard to maneuver because they are bulky and heavy, so getting stuck in tight spaces (or door ways if you approach them from the wrong angle) is really easy.
We ate breakfast at the cafe next door, where we thoroughly unimpressed our waitress with our seemingly ever growing appetites (and i have to say, Lindsay really went all out on her last breakfast,) but we were about to have one of the longest days we have had in a while, which we didn't really realize at the time, and we needed all we could get. The food is our fuel... A car won't run without gas...
We had an 11 mile warm up to Cotopaxi, another small town that pretty much consisted of a general store, restaurant, and gas station combined. On our way there, we caught wind of an odor that was slightly worse than the average road kill smell, that usually makes us hold our breaths, and makes Lindsay's day every time we pass them. There have been as couple of times where they has been so bad that i after i pass it, and choke for a second, i start laughing or smiling as i wait for Lindsay to pass it, because i know exactly what her reaction is going to be. I know, the joys of nature that we miss while traveling via cars. I'm glad i know what is out there. Anyway, we had been traveling past farmland and the smell from whatever it was was overwhelming. And with a serious edge, Lindsay grunted "ugh, it smells like the whole farm farted" (in unison)... And while i am sure that you had to be there to really enjoy this, she got me laughing so hard that we had to get off our bikes, i had treats running down my face, and neither of us could catch or breaths. it stuck with us for the next 10 miles or so.. one of would start laughing and get the other one going. I am sharing this because exemplifies our ability to take something gross and awful and turn it around for the other person, and laugh. We were saying tonight that, looking back, there wasn't one day during this trip that we didn't have in fun, even if it was not for the entire day, it was a least some of it. With the obstacles that we encountered, i think that is incredibly special, and says a lot about our friendship.
We left Cotopaxi and began our climb to Hillside. The view was spectacular and made up for the fact that the road was in awful condition. It felt like they put gravel down and then put a thin layer of tar over it. So not fun to riding on was not especially fun. At the top of the never ending hill Lindsay reading me a text from a very close friend at home saying that the hotel in Pueblo would be taken care of. (which we were so excited about and grateful for) At that same moment, as i stood there straddling my bike, listening, the weight of the bike shifted to the left just a tad, but was apparently enough to totally negate any balance that i have and threw off my center of gravity, and i went pummeling toward the pavement (left buttock first). I remember, as i was falling- just looking at Lindsay with the expression of "OH NO" and started grabbing the air. Lindsay thought something was terribly wrong with me when i landed and immediately thought of the fact that our steak dinner and hotel room might be threatened, and how she could carry me there (which i think is fantastic... The steak dinner we had waiting for us had been on the forefront of our minds since we pulled into Howard last night... The only thing that stood between that, was one last climb, and i don't think we have ever been so eager to do so). I was absolutely fine as i wasn't clipped into my pedals or moving, but the pavement would have felt better if it was real pavement... Lets just say that. I walked it off and we were paralyzed with laughter the next 10 minutes because i don't know if i have met somebody who falls over just straddling their bike... And we didn't know our was possible. This kept Lindsay amused for a few miles, as i could hear her giggle behind me. (this also portrays the delicate weight distribution of our gear in the panniers... And how wonderful it is that our bodies actively adjusts it's balance while we ride).
And just as we were getting excited to get onto a new road, thinking that it couldn't get any worse than the one we are on, we realized that the one we had just left was gold compared to the new one. Every 5 feet there was a crack in the pavement. And it wasn't just on the shoulder, either, but across the entire two lanes. They were not small cracks either, but deep, wide cracks that made everything on the bike, including us, bounce. They we hard hits... Like going over potholes.. Every.. Five.. Seconds. In the beginning of this nonsense, we both thought that this couldn't possibly last for more than a few miles, but please don't worry because we experienced this for a straight 70 miles (more on that later... I was infuriated). We also tried to tell ourselves, after 5 miles of these lovely bumps, that we were one more bump closer to Pueblo (i think out it's funny that we both independently started doing this.).. That stopped being effective power quickly.My large 3L water jug that i have strapped to my rack kept getting jostled around and would come undone every few minutes. It was horrendous. (i didn't mention that i found a $20 bill, crisp after it had been dried by the sun, in the grass right next to me on one of our water breaks... It felt as though it was a compensation for what we were about to endure... I have plans for that money, which i will get to in tomorrow's blog).
We found a Subway half way into our climb, which was about 32 miles long. The wind wasn't with us, and all that we could think about was that steak dinner. I think i was so focused on the dinner partially to distract myself from the fact that this would be the last climb we did, and, for a while, the last time we rode together. It grew increasingly hard to not get heavy hearted as we left the Rockies, and the setting sun and blue and purple silhouette of the majestic mountains became more distant as the yellow fields and rolling hills took over. We couldn't help but look back, amazed that we had just conquered them.
It was getting late and the flat ride that we had expected was far more holy than expected, the road was absolutely atrocious, and the wind was fighting us. I was getting frustrated... And Lindsay could tell, and kind of made me laugh when we just looked over at me and i just have her a look of "you have got to be kidding me," and she said, very nonchalantly "frustrated, Buddy?" And while she knew i was, it was enough to make realize that it was going to be ok, as she was just pushing on through.That reassurance lasted about 5 minutes, I'll be the first to admit it. I was in rare form at this point in our ride, but i chalk it up to being tired and completely emotional about ending this chapter in our journey. I was also very hungry and as we were approaching mile 75 i had enough of those darn cracks, to an extent that i turned to Lindsay and yelled "I'm this close to calling the dept of transportation and telling them that i hope they like the bill for getting my bike fixed after this road messed everything up." We both knew that this was an outrageous statement, and that I would never actually call them, and that there was nothing wrong with my bike. It was an innocent way of getting that off my chest. It was a hissy fit. Lindsay said nothing at the time, and almost tried to got a smile, and definitely laughed at me later. Taking Lindsay's lead i tried to regain composure. I took the energy from my frustration and put it into the hills, and realized that after dropping down to 4900 ft, all of the time we had spent in the high altitudes had done wonder for our strength. I noticed that i was now able to accelerate up hills, even after 75 miles of riding/climbing. I was psyched, and can't wait to see what my legs can do without the panniers (it is amazing how you can redirect your energy and use it to find something positive... And to find what you might be missing out on if you are focusing on what is wrong)
We finally got to our hotel, showered, put on make up and our dresses, a loved the now foreign feeling of being girly. We enjoyed the best meal that we could remember, filet mignon, a congratulatory treat from my mother that we are do thankful for. The waitress so nice, and after she got over the fact that we rode 90 miles on bikes, and not motorcycles, i am pretty sure she started getting a little teary when she asked what we were doing and why. we got pints of ice cream, crawled in bed and giggled for what we thought was the last night for some time. The transition from the mountains to the plains will be difficult, but i couldn't put words into imagining how the transition would be to riding without Lindsay. We battled more than just physical obstacles in those mountains, and i can't imagine what it would be like with any body else. She was and is the perfect travel Buddy.
I still have yet to write about our recovery day and parting ways this morning, but honestly i didn't have have the emotional capacity to do so tonight, and i am thinking that tomorrow will be easier to do so.. After a 112 mile day amidst never ending fields of brown grass, little traffic, and deserted towns, i can tell you that i would like nothing more than to look over at the empty bed next to me and find Lindsay sitting there. I guess i will have to settle with the fact that she its here in spirit.
Chef boyardee doesn't taste as good with out ya, Linds.
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