|
Written by Ben
|
|
Monday, 25 June 2007 |
|
We're done. I'm sitting in the Denver public library, about to ride to the airport, and home to California. We left Jasper early early in the morning of May 30, and arrived here yesterday. I broke one bike frame and one bike fork, 3 spokes, and had about 10 flat tires. Clint had one flat tire and hurt his finger on a tent stake. Clearly some one is out to get me. Despite the damages, this trip was amazing. We haven't figured out the exact details yet, but it worked out to something like 1500 miles, 10 times across the continental divide, 50,000 feet of climbing, and about 5 showers each. All that, and we biked through one of them square states. I know what you're all saying: "Wyoming isn't square. It's actually a curving 3 dimensional object bounded by lines of latitude and longitude that only appears square when it's projects in a certain way on to a flat surface." Whatever. If Mr. Mercator says that Greenland and Africa are the same size, and that Wyoming is square, then who am I to argue? Anyway, I feel better saying it's square, because its mostly pretty boring, and a state with an uninteresting shape has more right to be boring. The last day in Wyoming continued the trend of flat. We rolled along a grassy plain, with threatening thunderclouds overhead, until we passed the Colorado border. All of a sudden: mountains!! The Colorado/Wyoming border follows no physical features, and yet seems to perfectly divide the landscape. Uncanny - a lot like when we crossed into California from Oregon 2 years ago, and all of a sudden it changed from cloudy and cold to sunny and warm and a Jetta with four blondes in it whizzed past with the radio cranked up on Britney.
In the 2 days we've spent in Colorado we've experienced two wildely different facets of it's persona. we pulled into Granby day before yesterday at about 4 pm with nowhere to camp. A passing cyclist suggested we ask the local rodeo if we could set up a tent in the back, and to our surprise they said sure! We spent the evening watching the rodeo, an event steeped in patriotism and history. It began with a ceremony in which the Navy, Marine Corps, Army, U.S., Colorado, Liberty, and various other flags were paraded around the arena by women on horseback while the commentator spoke for a few minutes about the the men and women lost in service to their country, and the need to remember 9/11. After a couple of hours, we returned to the tent and fell asleep that night to the strains of country music and bull-riding, watching yet another beautiful sunset over the Rockies. We caught a shuttle into downtown Denver the next day, and discovered that Gay Pride weekend was in full swing. It was quite a transition from the rodeo to being told by a very drunk reveler that I was "super sexy". Well - my quads are ripped. Lacey is flying in tomorrow to hang out with Clint for a couple of days. They'll take the train home on Thursday. For me, though, its off home as quick as I can to pack up my life and drive back across the country to Washington DC, where I have a new job starting july 9th. It's been a great trip. I'll post photos in the next couple of days, and a final blog. |
|
Last Updated ( Saturday, 29 September 2007 )
|
|
|
Written by Administrator
|
|
Thursday, 28 June 2007 |
|
Pics from our Jasper-Denver trip are up! Check the galleries. |
|
Last Updated ( Thursday, 28 June 2007 )
|
|
|
Written by Ben
|
|
Thursday, 21 June 2007 |
|
A pronghorn sheep can sprint to speeds of 60 miles per hour, and maintain a speed of 30 miles per hour over an extened period. Man that's quick; I think that a cheetah only does around 70 miles per hour (Clint says 65). Their speed does beg the question of why, however. Apparently, pronghorns' chief predators are coyotes, and there is no way that a coyote can move even close to that quick. So why the ridiculous speed? A cheetah needs it to catch those little gazelles they're always chasing, but what the heck does the pronghorn need it for? I'm open to ideas. I devoted a large part of my concentration to looking for pronghorns today, becuase there wasn't anything else to do. After leaving Lander, the landscape of Wyoming went from interesting to insanely boring. Lander was awesome. I'm from the LA area - say around 11 million people within 100 miles. Clint is from Sac - 2 million in the area, give or take. Lander has 7,000, and seemed massive. It had not one, but two gear shops, as well as a dedicated bike shop and two different places to buy espresso. That's cosmopolitan, right there. We met up with one of the instructors from my NOLS course for lunch - organic local beef hamburgers and beer, oh yeah. The highlight of Lander was eating, in fact. The first night we cooked up a package of smokies and sat like rednecks in our thermaloungers in front of the tent, drinking Fat Tire and commenting on the people who walked passed. But on Monday night, we settled for our usual pasta, and had just finished when some folks who were havig a barbeque asked if we could manage a burger - they would have to throw them out, otherwise. I said I might be able to choke one down, and called Clint over as well. "A burger" turned out to mean a burger (and/or hot dog), potato salad, brownies, and ice cream, with a Bud Light to wash it all down. ( I am required to say that Clint had a Coors Light; I make no comment on their relative merits). We waddled back to the tent and spent the next several hours moaning and rubbing our bellies. We are now well and truly in the rain shadow of the Rockies - in the high desert of eastern Wyoming. From the lush pines on the west side of Togwotee pass, the dominant vegetation has switched to sparse sage, tumbleweed, dirt trees and rock shrubs. When I get off the bike for a photo, I watch in front of me for rattlesnakes. We drink twice as much water becuase the air is so dry, and our tans are darkening by the day (in case you haven't figured it out, Clint is sitting by me right now, and I am instructed to say that Clint's is still an Irish tan - not a real one). Yesterday, the change was nice, in part because of a great tail wind that let us sit up and watch the knobbly granite outcrops, pronghorns, and the now distant Wind River mountain range as it receded behind us. Today was a slog though. Rawlins is not my favorite town. I did get off on the wrong foot with it, I admit - breaking another spoke on the rear wheel as we rolled into town. I had it fixed by some punk kid at the local bike shop/stereo installation shop/dirt bike and dirt bike accessories superstore. I say 'punk kid' advisedly; he was all of 14, wore all tight black, a black beanie and one of those metal studded belts, and fixed my wheel, oiled my bike chain, and adjusted my shifting in a total of 20 minutes. Not bad for some punk kid. Rawlins does boast excellent Mexican food. we had both been craving it, and asked our way to Rose's Lariat - great enchiladas, and the first time I've taken dining advice from some one I know to be from Kansas. Advice well taken. Oh well. At least the ride today was short. Tomorrow it's 60 miles to Riverside/Encampment. Granby on Saturday, and Denver on Sunday. I have to get off the computer now. |
|
Last Updated ( Saturday, 29 September 2007 )
|
|
Read more...
|
|
| | << Start < Prev 1 2 3 Next > End >>
| | Results 1 - 4 of 11 |
|
