Eastern Colorado

It's been a while since I've made a post. I successfully made it out of the Rockies! I had two challenging mountain days before making it to Pueblo. Going from Gunnison to Salida, I climbed around 3500 ft crossing Monarch Pass. On the ride from Salida to Pueblo, I did another ~3000 ft of climbing to make it over the final set of mountains. Both were hard, but ultimately good days. I liked hanging out in Salida in the afternoon. It's a beautiful town situated on the Arkansas river, in sight of some huge snow capped mountains. During the weekend they close off some of the streets in downtown for festivals. While I was there, they were putting all the local galleries on display. While not quite as upscale as towns like Crested Butte or Telluride, Salida definitely has its fair share of expensive niche shops. I camped at a free state campground, Salida East, about 2 miles east of town. While it was kind of a shitty campground, it had a great view -- to the East the Arkansas River valley, and the West the snow capped Rockies.

I think I bit off a little bit more than I could chew biking to Pueblo. For some reason I got it in my head that once I got over the last pass, it would all be downhill into Pueblo. While that may technically be true, I was only really descending for 10 of the 40 miles into town. The rest I battled a relatively strong headwind. Ugh. Headwinds suck. That night, I slept in the backyard of someone from warmshowers. I was surprised to find one my fellow bike tourists who I had last seen in Ely, Nevada. Apparently she had taken a bus across Colorado, and decided to start riding again in Pueblo. It was good to catch up with her and to talk about some of our experiences.

The day after century rides always sucks. The 50 miles from Pueblo to Ordway was not fun for me. I left Pueblo at 11:30 or so, and it was steaming hot out. I had a meager headwind, but it was enough to just wreck me. My ass was killing me. I had no patience for the ride. I screamed. I yelled. I cursed. Once I got to Ordway, I decided to try my luck with one of the "cyclist only" lodging sites recommended by my maps. As indicated, I asked for a woman named Gillian, and was eventually directed to a farm on the outskirts of town. Gillian put me and three other cyclists up for the night, offering us showers, a bed, and the use of the kitchen, all for 15 minutes of yard work! I wasn't expecting to take a shower that evening, so I was giddy with excitement as I was undressing to get wet. Sometimes a shower is just great.

Today I'm riding from Ordway to some town 90 miles down the line. Right now, I'm in the library in a little town called Eads. I'll probably sit in the park, make a cup of coffee, and eat a peanut butter sandwich.

The last few days have been filled with emotional ups and downs. Yesterday, for example, I was angry and disappointed in myself that I couldn't just enjoy the ride. After 25 days or so of riding, I should be able to crush a 50 mile ride, right? When I got to Gillian's, I was happy to be able to share stories with people, and to do some garden work. I went to bed feeling content. This morning, as with many mornings, I was despairing over the prospect of riding 90 miles. What I've been realizing, however, is that I can't sit back and just tour like some people can. I can spend the first 15 miles of the ride just spinning and not putting in a lot of effort, but after that I get antsy. The scenery is not enough to keep me going. I have to work at it. I have to own the ride. While this is not a race, and I don't really have anywhere to be, I can't just sit there and pedal along at 11 mph for 90 miles. I go crazy.

Posts should be a little more regular over the next couple of days, as I'll have regular library access as I get into Kansas.

Another rest day, Montrose to Gunnison

I decided to take another rest day in Gunnison. I promise I'm not being lazy. As I was coming into town yesterday on my ride in from Montrose, I noticed this weird clicking in my knee. It's as if something had become misaligned in my knee, and it was rubbing, and then popping, with every pedal stroke. I got on the bike this morning, and I didn't experience the same thing, but I want to give my body a rest. I've got a big climb from Gunnison to Salida, and the last thing I need is a knee that's going to give me trouble. We'll see how I feel tomorrow; hopefully this is nothing debilitating. Part of the reason why I decided to stick around for an extra day is because I'm currently staying in a nice, cheap hostel. Cheaper than a KOA, and a little more expensive than the campsite North of town, but I get to sleep in a bed. I must have slept 12 hours last night. It was amazing.

The ride from Montrose to Gunnison was lots of fun, albeit full of ups and downs. I started off the morning riding into a 15 mph headwind and ascending for 14 miles. That was hard. There's nothing worse than riding uphill first thing in the morning. After descending a little bit into a place called Cimarron, I entered a beautiful, green valley. In the far distance I could see snow capped mountains. My joy at being in such a spectacular place faded as soon as I started another 1500 ft climb. After about a mile, I stopped, put on some Madonna, and cranked up the rest of the hill. I was in the zone. It was amazing. I was sweating, huffing and puffing, and my legs were on fire, but I felt like I was in the right place. I think the happiest moments I've spent on a bike have been on climbs. Tailwinds are fun, but there's always this nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that the tailwind is going to be quickly replaced by a headwind, or that for every mile you ride with a tailwind, you can expect 3 (on different days) with a headwind. In other words, it feels like you're cheating. Climbing is not cheating, however. Climbing represents this epic battle against gravity. 

Naturita to Montrose

Tom and I said our goodbyes this morning. Sadness all around. Without my dad, I don't think I would have made it across Nevada or Utah. Knowing that there was someone there at the start, middle and end of each ride makes riding so much easier. Without Tom, I think I would have gotten caught up in the difficulty of the terrain and I ultimately wouldn't have enjoyed it as much. Utah is an spectacular place. I felt like the scenery there kept getting more and more strange and beautiful with every day that passed. Tom and I kept using the word "otherworldly" to describe some of the stuff we were seeing: Crazy red rock formations, deep canyons, and transitions from desert to alpine in a matter of miles. Looking back, it seems weird to describe something on Earth as otherworldy, because everything I saw in Utah comprises the geography of this planet. Otherworldy if you're used to the rolling green hills of Iowa.

Today, at mile 37, as I was taking a break at the intersection of highway 145 and 62, I met up with two dudes who were out for a day ride. We got to talking, and I found out that both of them were living in Telluride, living the bum lifestyle. They said that they lived in government subsidized housing for people who make under a certain amount a year. The goal, as one of the fellows told me, was to secure enough employment to be able to ski and bike, but not so much as to make more than this minimum. One of the guys was a bike tourist. He appeared to have done quite a bit of touring, both in New England and in the West. He was an interesting guy, and we chatted most of the way up from Placerville and down into Ridgway (no spelling mistake, I swear). It was about a 1400 ft climb, but we had a nice tail wind, so we really cruised to the top. Coming down, I hit my highest speed yet: 52 mph. After arriving in Ridgway, the two gentlemen encouraged me to spend the afternoon at a local hot springs. I checked it out, but I wasn't super enamored of the idea of sitting outside in 100 degree weather while immersed in 130 degree water. I have to drink enough water as it is. I made it to Montrose without any trouble, after meeting yet another bike tourist. All in all, a good day. I'm back on track, and pumped for the rest of Colorado.

Below are a few long overdue pictures. I would like to post them as I take them, but its hard when I'm impatient with slow upload speeds.

view from inside a canyon coming out of Escalante

On top of the hill, coming out of the canyon featured above. I was looking into the sun...

Panorama of the scene after climbing out of the canyon, coming from Escalante.

View from the top of Boulder mountain.

First view of the big mountains in Colorado!

Colorado!

Yesterday I biked from Moab to a town called Naturita in colorful Colorado. It was a 75 mile ride or so, and I think I did about 4000 ft of climbing. It was a super hard ride. I didn't know where or when the climbs would end, and it was the 12th day in a row of biking. About 60 miles in, I lost sight of the adventure. I was cursing the wind, mother nature, and myself for being so stupid as to bike across the goddamn fucking shit stupid US of A. I did make it to Naturita, after cruising up the last little rise at 4.5 mph. A rest day was definitely in order.

Instead of getting up at 5:45, I got up at 6:15 and Tom and I ate a leisurely breakfast. Tom had bought a piece of salmon the previous day, and we saved part of it so we could eat it with eggs and cream cheese for breakfast. I don't know if I really agree with how he cooks plain old salmon (he may overcook it), but breakfast today sure tasted good. After tomorrow, I'll be back to eating oatmeal and peanut butter for breakfast. It pays to have someone with a car and a cooler on a ride like this. After breakfast, Tom and I drove to Telluride, CO to visit Tom's cousin Steve. Telluride is a nice place. Lots of cute shops and nice places to eat. I got a dope burrito. The town has an interesting dynamic. On one hand, there are people like Steve, who own beautiful (second) houses. On the other hand, there are plenty of people may age who spend time there just so they can scrape enough money together to be able to ski or mountain bike. Without spending more time there, it's hard to ascertain how these different groups perceive and interact with each other. The town itself is gorgeous. It's situated in a deep valley surrounded by huge snow capped mountains. My first taste of real mountains. I'm super pumped to be able to slog up these suckers.

Tomorrow I roll out to Montrose, about an 85 mile ride. After that, I get back on good old 50 and head pretty much straight east to Pueblo. 

Moab, century day

Yesterday I woke up in an RV park just outside of Torrey, Utah, freezing my ass off. The wind was just howling out of the West. Tom and I rode out around 7:30 and I was cold enough that I wore my wool Pendleton. Capitol Reef was really cool. About 20 miles after starting my ride, a woman on a bike passed me, asking me where I was going. I told her that I was on my way to Hanksville, but the goal was the eventually end up in Virginia. She indicated that she too was on her way to Hanksville, but that she was going to go as far as Green River, another 50 miles or so up the line. After chatting for a while (and kicking ass with the monster tail wind) I learned that she was averaging more than 100 miles per day! Granted, she wasn't camping or carrying a whole lot of gear, but that is still an insane amount of mileage. After reaching Hanksville, we said our goodbyes, and I waited around for Tom to show up so we could get lunch and set up camp. The plan was to spend the afternoon in Hanksville, and then go to Hite Recreation Area the next day. After lunch, Tom and I decided that it might behoove us to check out the campsite at Hite, as no one had been answering the phone at the  Ranger station, and we'd been getting rather ominous reports from locals about the location. Driving down into Glen Canyon was spectacular. Utah continues to blow me away with the scenery. When we got to Hite, after crossing the Dirty Devil and Colorado Rivers, we quickly realized why locals had been telling us such negative things about the area. There was no shade at the campsites, and it was hot. Not Abu Dhabi style hot because there was almost no humidity, but hot nonetheless. As soon as we pulled into the parking lot by the ranger station, I felt an oppressive sense of isolation. The area was desolate. It felt like the most desolate place I'd encountered on my trip. Lake Powell, the centerpiece of this area, is no more. The Colorado River practically trickles through the huge valley. In years past, the river dammed up to form a lake, but now there simply is't enough water. The campsite was once located on the edge of the lake; yesterday the campsite was easily 150 m from the edge of the water. The drought you've been hearing about in the West is real.

Tom was freaked about Hite. I think the desolation of the area really got to him. I felt a sense of foreboding about staying at the campsite, but I figured I would leave late from Hanksville (around 4 or 5 in the afternoon) so we would minimize our time there. After sitting around in Hanksville for a couple of hours, I said fuck it, and resolved to bike to Green River. Tom was down. So I biked to Green River, starting at about 5 in the afternoon. I had a monster tailwind, so I averaged about 22 mph for the 55 mile ride. I rode 109 miles yesterday, and I got to ride my bike on a freeway (I-70). The girl I met in the morning inspired me to bike on. Today kind of sucked, especially in the morning, but we made it to Moab. By taking this detour from the Adventure Cycling route, I think I'll end up cutting about 100 miles from my trip. Moab is a really cool little town. Lots of bike shops, bike geeks, and dazed looking people with a thick layer of red grime covering their figures.

Escalante, Torrey

The last two days have been amazing. The bike trip just keeps getting better. The scenery here in Utah is stunning. I thought it couldn't get any better after riding out of Cedar City. I was wrong. Riding into Escalante, I thought that I had seen it all. Again, I was wrong. Today I climbed about 4000 ft, and saw three different geographic scenes. About 10 miles out of Escalante, I descended into this Canyon, full of layered yellow and red rock formations and desert scrub. After passing through the Calf Creek area, I climbed out of the canyon (a 14% grade for the better part of two miles!) and after riding the "hogback" I rode into Boulder, Utah. The hogback is a section of highway that is surrounded on both sides by about 400 to 900 foot drops. The views are breathtaking, and otherworldly. Boulder is agricultural, lush and green. After Boulder, I continued ascending, maxing out at 9600 ft after ~13 miles. It was a hard climb. After reaching the summit, I looked back, and was surprised to see a sign that indicated that the descent was an 8% grade for five miles. Holy shit. That's nuts. At the top of the hill, I was surrounded by grassy meadows and deciduous trees, like aspen and birch. While the remaining ~25 miles of the ride was mostly descent, I did muscle up some pretty nasty little hills. After getting over the Boulder mountain on highway 12, the landscape transformed again. The earth became red, and in the distance I could see the beginning of the Capitol Reef National Park. Capitol Reef, from what I can see, is full of gigantic red rock formations, shaped randomly and beautifully by erosion. Tomorrow I ride to Hanksville, Utah. We're still uncertain of where we're going to stay, but I figure that it will all work out in the end.

Yesterday was the first day where I got done with the ride and thought that I could do more. I probably could have made it another 30 miles up the line to Boulder. It would have sucked, but I could have done it. Today, however, I'm feeling pretty pooped. The climbs were awesome, but tiring. Below are a few pictures. I find it harder and harder to take pictures.

During the afternoon, Escalante was super hot. Not Abu Dhabi style hot, but so hot that Tom and I hid away in a restaurant and sucked down a couple of beers instead of sitting outside in our unshaded campsite. Once the heat broke, the town transformed in my eyes. Instead of bearing down mercilessly on me, the sun caressed me with its evening rays, while a cool breeze sucked away any left over sweat from the heat of the day. I read in a wrought iron chair by the laundry room, finishing up the Deborah Harkness trilogy before moving onto Mark Vonnegut's Eden Express. Overall a lovely, lazy evening without a care in the world.

Escalante is an interesting place. Most of the establishments appear to be appealing to tourists, either by providing high end outdoor equipment or a comfortable, gourmet dining experience. At the same time, a notice at the local grocery store indicated that the high school would be hosting a meeting to discuss the possibility of closing the local high school due to reduced enrollment. I can't help but wonder what will become of towns like Escalante in the next ten or fifteen years. The RV park in Escalante also had the nicest showers I've used since Abu Dhabi.

The road down into the canyon coming out of Escalante. Lots of fun to go down. Even better going back up.

I broke my stupid sunglasses. I got another pair, thankfully. 

Utah!

I realize that the last time I updated the blog was in Eureka, Nevada. That feels like a long time ago. I'm currently writing on Tom's laptop at a KOA in Panguitch, Utah. The last two days have been pretty short;  ~55 miles from Milford, UT to Cedar City, and then 59 miles form Cedar City to Panguitch. The ride today involved about 4000 ft of climbing. I spent the first 20 miles or so going up. I think I averaged about 7 mph. It was nuts. Tom has been hauling my gear in the car, so my load is a hell of a lot lighter, but that doesn't stop an 8% hill from being rough. Especially when it lasts for the better part of two miles. My phone was out of juice this morning, so I wasn't able to capture any pictures, but the valley I rode through this morning was nothing short of spectacular. The valley was probably about 400 ft wide, with steep cliffs on either side. The cliffs were unlike anything I've seen so far on my trip. It appeared as if someone had stacked up a series of squat, squished rocks in precarious piles on top of vertical shelves. To my side a swollen creek was raging with the runoff from all the rain we've been getting. Everything was lush and verdant; the cliffs were covered in deciduous trees and grasses. Tom, and some locals say that this is the greenest Utah will ever get. Apparently all the valleys are normally brown and burnt this time of year. Instead, my surroundings are vividly green. In a way, it reminds me of the Midwest. I left around 6:55, so the sun was just starting to peek over the top of the mountains as I started my ascent. This meant that I could ride without a shirt. This is always such a nice treat, even if it goes against my inner roadie. It almost felt cold this morning!

I'm super glad that I'm out of Nevada. Other than $2.50 beers and gambling, there isn't much in my mind to recommend the place. That said, I also passed through during the first two weeks of my trip, so things were hard. The landscape is hard to stomach, especially coming from the Midwest. Both Iowa and Nevada don't have super high population density, but the difference between the two places is the difference between developed and undeveloped land. Iowa is highly developed, insofar as Iowa is mostly farmland. Nevada, on the other hand, is not highly developed. Most of the land around highway 50 isn't used for much of anything, except for the occasional grazing land for cows. This can be psychologically devastating. Going from Eureka to Ely, for example, you climb up three ~1000 ft climbs that are separated by about 13-20 miles of mostly flat valley. From the top of anyone of these climbs you can see a ribbon of highway that stretches all the way to the next pass, about 30 miles down the line. Sometimes the road is so straight that you experience a disorienting effect -- the road appears to be a thin, straight rod sticking out of the ground and reaching directly up. When the wind starts up, you sometimes end up going faster up the climbs than on the flats, as the climbs are protected from the winds. Some days I would average about 11-12 mph for a 70 mile ride. These long stretches of highway are lonely, despite the decent amount of traffic. (Highway 50 bills itself as the "loneliest highway in America." This might be true, if one were to qualify the statement by saying that highway 50 is the loneliest US highway in America. I've ran into some state and county roads in Utah where I'll go 2 hours and see as many cars)

Things changed as soon as I entered Utah. We got a lot of rain from the time I took a rest day in Austin up until about a day or two ago. The landscape, burnt and barren in Nevada quickly became green and lively. As I left Milford, UT, for example, it felt like I was back in the Midwest, except for the mountains on three sides. People tell me that I need to prepare to encounter the same desolate, Nevada landscapes when I reach Eastern Utah, but for the time being I'm reveling in the green beauty of this place.

In case I don't get to post for another few days, here's a preview of what's in store. I'll take a rest day in the next couple of days. After that, I'm going to snake my way through central Utah, doing another 4000 ft of climbing after Boulder, Utah. I'll hit Hite recreation area on the Colorado River in the next three or four days. In a week, I'll already be passing into Colorado.

I'm trying to embed using Google maps, per Cam's advice, but Google maps doesn't allow me to incorporate custom routes. Apparently this is a known issue, but I haven't seen a satisfactory solution. Bing maps are perhaps more annoying than Google maps. Any help?

More Nevada, and pictures

Today I'm writing from my dad's laptop. Tom is here, and he's going to be my support team for the next few days. Man, I'm so grateful for this. Riding from Austin to Eureka, NV was so much easier today without as much stuff on the back of my bike, and knowing that there would be someone I know and love riding into town with me.

The last couple of days have been a bit crazy for me. I took a rest day in Austin, NV and stayed at a motel. I chose a good day to stay in a motel, as it rained all day. I would have been able to make it in the tent, but I wouldn't have been able to get as good night of sleep or get caught up on game of thrones. Crazy that I can sit around and watch HBO even in the middle of nowhere Nevada. The nasty sunburn I got on the small of my back (my tramp stamp sunburn) started pealing, so it looks like I'm on the road to recovery (finally). I don't know if there is a worst spot to get a bad sunburn, but that one sure made sleeping on my back painful. I met a fellow bike tourist in Middlegate, NV and we met up again in Austin. She took the slightly shorter but more hilly route to Austin from Middlegate, and she indicated that she ran out of water camping at the top of the mountain there. She said that she only made it to Austin because there was a stream at the top of the mountain where she could fill up. That's insane. It was good to see another person who was as deep in the struggle as I was coming into Austin. In Middlegate I think I saw my first cowboy!!!! He was this dude with a ten gallon hat, a big handlebar mustache and a voice that was raspy and unintelligible. He served me some beers and kept mostly to himself. I should clarify that Middlegate is not a town, but merely a wooden shack with a bar and a little motel. Oh, and beer is about $2.25 to $3.00 for a pint in Nevada.

The mornings and evenings here in Nevada are amazing. Leaving Dayton about 4 days ago was such a sublime experience for me. I went to this Starbucks, had a cup of joe, and watched the sun rise over the mountains. I might have a picture, but as always it does a poor job of capturing the cool morning air and the expansive nature of the scenery out here. As it gets later in the day it usually gets hotter, and the morning magic starts to wear off, giving way to sweaty, windy misery. I don't mean to exaggerate, but doing a 1000 ft climb in 80 degrees kind of sucks. At one point a couple of days ago my ass started getting so sweaty that I started to slip off the front of my saddle. That leather gets slippery when its wet. It got so bad that I had to stop, get a towel out of one of my panniers and wipe down both my ass and the saddle. Ick.

Taking a rest day in Austin was just what I needed. Today I rode 70 miles and it was one of the best days I've had so far.

I finally got my pictures from my phone, so below you can see some of the choice snapshots. I did a lot of panoramas. I'll put them in chronological order.

Day 1, riding from Vallejo to Davis

Riding to the top of the Sierras, day 3

First 15 minutes of 4th day 

Almost at Carson Pass, day 4

"Carson Pass elev 8574 ft"

That lonely highway 50, Nevada 

Highway 50 in Nevada

Day 3 and 4

Last night I stayed at the Silver Lake West campground, located about 10 miles west (I believe) and about 1000 ft below Carson Pass. Yesterday might have been the hardest riding I've ever done. I climbed about 7000 ft, starting in Placerville. I was riding through hail and rain the last seven or eight miles, after the temperature had dropped from a balmy 70 to about 55. That climb was so hard. I'd like to attribute part of it to the fact that my bike has a lowest gear of 34:30 (with the 34 in the front) which would be fine normally, but it's super hard with 50 pounds of gear on the back of the bike. It was also hard because I feel that I'm not in proper shape (yet) for 60+ mile days. I have some beautiful shots of the Sierra Nevada mountains from yesterday and today. As soon as I can upload the photos from my phone (which is dead) to the cloud, I'll put them up. I've biked through some truly beautiful places.

I'm writing from the Dayton public library. Dayton is in Nevada! I made it across one state! By tomorrow I'll have traveled about 300 miles! The ride today wasn't so bad. My back has been hurting a little, which makes me think I should reduce the amount of drop on my bike. I got to Dayton just fine, after eating a dope omelet in Carson City. I had potatoes and eggs and toast with butter... It was utterly delicious. I think the scariest part about the next couple of days is the fact that even if I don't want to keep biking, I have to. Unlike other places I'll be traveling through, there are no places where I can stop if I get tired. There will be a few legs in the next week or so where there will be nothing in between towns. No water, no food, just scrub and mountains. I talked to a park ranger at Carson pass who said that Nevada was the hardest part of his ride across the country. He said the hills are brutal and the landscape is unforgiving. I'm scared, but also damn excited. Bring it on. I've been considering a little math during my long bouts in the saddle, so for those of you who are hungering for some LaTeX in this blog, get excited.

Day 1 and 2

I arrived in San Francisco, got my bike from Deb and Dan's, got all my stuff together and peaced out. Hugged James, Iju and Jiwon, and rode down California St towards the bay. I took the ferry from San Francisco to Vallejo, at which point I started riding to Davis. In Davis, I stayed with Becky, a family friend. A shot out to Becky for kicking ass. She took me to the Davis farmer's market, fed me (even bought me a beer!) and took me on a tour of Davis. After being on the bike for five hours, there's nothing better than a shower, food, beer, and straight chilling. A few observations from day 1. First, the adventure cycling maps kick ass. They have turn by turn directions, and super accurate indications of where to get food, water and bike supplies. Second, California is a gorgeous place. The landscape has changed so much from yesterday to today. Yesterday I rode through wine country and tons of fruit farms, while today I entered the foothills of the Sierras, full of coniferous trees. I haven't done a ton of climbing yet, but tomorrow I'll end up going up about 7000 feet. Third, Davis is super cool! The biking infrastructure is some of the best I've ever encountered. The city itself is small, and pretty cute. It's like Iowa City without harsh winters and with more vegans.

Today I rode from Davis to Placerville. It was hard. I thought that the ride was going to be about 65 miles, but I think I ended up riding about 75. Woah. The last 10 miles were hard! I wouldn't have made it if I hadn't bought a new saddle. I finally dropped the cash on a leather saddle. I didn't get a Brooks; I got a Rivet saddle instead. John at edible pedal in Sacramento sold me on it. I've been wary of getting a leather saddle because of the ergonomics and the break-in period. As a result, I rode from Vallejo to Davis on my Pro Turnix saddle. It's a great saddle for going fast, but it sucks for going slow. As a result, I was really sore this morning when I got on the bike. The Rivet saddle was a revelation. It's easily the most comfortable saddle I've ever used. I can't wait to see what it feels like in a couple of weeks, after I've put a few hundred miles on it. Tonight I'm staying with a couple from warmshowers. For those who don't know what warmshowers is, it's a site for putting bike tourists in contact with potential hosts. So far, these guys have been great! They fed me, watered me, and talked me up. I feel so grateful for the people that I've spent time with so far on this trip, even after two days.

My grandpa Charlie has been on my mind all day today. Rest in peace gramps.