Anyways, the next morning after packing up my things, I was invited in for coffee. Linda (the woman of the household) was just leaving to take Ben (the son) to school. She regretted that we didn't get to talk more, and I did, too -- maybe some other time? You never know, I guess (warning: small world story coming up (but not one involving Linda)). Anyways, David (the male of the house) and I chatted a bit over coffee. He offered to sell me some wool socks, as the part of the ride coming up was apparently deathly cold, and I only had one pair (thanks, dad!). I said I couldn't offer him a fair price on my budget, since I was doing most of my clothing shopping at thrift stores. But it was nice of him to offer.
Before I left I thanked him again for having place to stay, and he said, "We love Jesus, so we try to live in his image." Honestly, I think that's great. I'm not particularly religious, but there is one thing I have learned about religion, which this trip is only affirming. It seems that all religions, and even most non-religions (atheism included), have one goal in mind: Love thy neighbor. It may come out in a less biblical sounding form, but I really think that -- whether it's god or God or your conscious or whatever wanting you to do it -- we should just care about and respect each other and offer help whenever we can, within reason. Maybe that's altruistic of me, but I think that the number one reason this trip is turning out so great is because of the kindness of others. And I don't just mean that they gave me physical objects, like food or even property to sleep on -- I just mean that they gave me company. And it has been swell. I don't rely on it, of course, but let's just say that so far, I haven't lost any faith in humanity.
Okay, enough of the cheesy. My two cents are spent.
So I left David/Linda/Ben's house (thanks again! I really do hope we meet again) and biked the ten miles into Dolores, where I assumed Ken and Tim (which I've started calling "K/T," if you haven't caught on in the last few posts) had gotten a motel for the night. It wasn't raining on the road, but it was doing the "I'm going to taunt you by raining on either side of the road" thing again, so I figured it would rain later that day. It was beautiful, yes, but still threatening.
Colorado is definitely contesting for the "most beautiful state" award.
I stopped by a hardware store looking for glove liners, as all I had were fingerless riding gloves and a pair of windproof-while-dry shell gloves (...), and yesterday the rain had gotten to my fingers a little bit. They didn't have anything that wasn't 80% or more cotton, so I said "Thanks, but no thanks." On my way out I noticed a bike shop across the street, which I thought was interesting, as it wasn't on my map. It was called "Lizardhead Cyclery" and had some cool art outside. Given the artistic demeanor of the place and my imminent need for an Underarmour top, I headed in.
The place was empty.
Okay, not empty, but when I asked for Underarmour, the guy said, "Nah, we just opened 6 months ago, so we really don't have much." They didn't have much, but the more I talked to him, the more I liked him. They had a few jerseys, a few bikes, and plenty of parts. So, had I been in the market for a derailleur or a chain, I would have been set. They also had some really cool recycled bike art, including a lamp made from a fork, some wind chimes made from derailleur cogs, and belts made from old tires. I was inspired, awed, and impressed.
So I know what I'm doing with my tires when they die.
As I started to head out the door, he said, "Are you touring?"
"Yea..."
"Oh... you must really need Underarmour then."
"Yea."
So he sold me his. Yes, he was ex-military and had brought his army issue sand-colored Tactical Underamour to work that day and sold it to me for $25. Win. Everybody go like Lizardhead Cyclery on Facebook right now.
Did I mention AWESOME?
Anyways, after a rather abrasive stop at motel #1 ("Sorry, we can't tell you anything about any of our guests, not even if they were on bikes or waiting for you to find them"), I found K/T at motel #2, and we took off up the hill. It was about 35 miles to the top of Lizard Head Pass, I believe -- 10,222 feet, our second highest climb to date and our third highest of the trip. And of course, on the way up it started raining.
We stopped at a coffee hut for... well, K/T got coffee and sandwiches, I got a breakfast burrito. Mmm... I can never get enough of those on a cold, rainy day. We were freezing cold by the time we got there, roundabout mile 20 since leaving Dolores and mile 15 or so with rain and wind, so it was just about the best thing in the world to sit somewhere warm and eat something warm. Before leaving, K/T had contacted a warmshowers host, but they used this opportunity to set up a hotel, not wanting to be left in the rain should warmshowers not come through. Then we left, and then it started sleeting.
So we biked 15 more miles in sleet and wind.
And had the summit been any higher we would have needed snow tires.
But we made it. Well, by then of course, K/T were well ahead of me... so, I made it. I was okay being by myself by then, of course... this was day 35 or so, so my resolve was sound and not wind nor rain nor sleet nor cold could break it. I have now biked Lizard Head Pass.
Coming down the pass was fine. It was, as we bicycle tourists say -- always with quotations -- "All downhill" (that's code for "It wasn't all downhill, but we told ourselves that to make it easier"). About ten minutes down I realized I couldn't feel my toes... not good. So I pulled over, tore off my socks, and lo and behold... they were alive.
(I don't have any photos of this part, but I'm guessing nobody minds)
For some reason I had decided to wear my sport socks that morning, which are "magic synthetic" fiber: They work great for what they are made for... they are not made to handle four hours of sleet. My toes had frozen together.
Yes... frozen together. There was enough moisture between them and not enough heat that I had to pick my toes apart before drying them. But yea, they were still alive. In any case, I dried them off with a towel, put on wool socks (did I mention "thanks dad?") and continued on my way.
Then there was Telluride.
This also goes in the "most beautiful state award" pile.
Telluride was swell. It was all color with snow at the top and the houses were colorful too. The city itself is actually off route 3 miles, so I started on my way, figuring K/T would be somewhere around. I got 2.5 miles before seeing an interesting guy pass by on a ledge. He was wearing an old-fashioned trapper's cap, among other unique clothing items, and then he said,
"Are you Kyle?"
"Yea...?"
"Wait there!"
He came down and introduced himself as John, my warmshowers host for the night.
So, okay.
Apparently, about half an hour ago, Tim had been looking lost, so John offered him directions... only to find Tim was his warmshowers guest for the night. They somehow stumbled into Ken, who was at a bike shop getting a new jersey, shoes, and other items not in my budget. Ken and Tim confessed to reserving the room, but said John should keep an eye out for me, and lo and behold... he found me!
So we biked back out of town the 2.5 miles I had just come, and another quarter mile or so (uphill, but not as bad a hill as Winnie's house in Sausalito) to John's house. I met his wife, Suzanne, a DJ for the local radio show, and we had an experimental dinner. John and Suzanne get vegetables from a local farm, so they cook whatever they can with whatever they can -- this evening we had soup over bread with egg (all local, including the bread). The soup cooked the egg, so it was sort of an egg drop soup. It was (I thought) quite good, but of course, it wasn't enough. For the next two hours John and I played "Are you sure you want to keep feeding me?" before I was finally full. It was a good time. John then went off to bed, and Suzanne and I stayed up listening to music. The next morning I awoke to a note saying "Help yourself to whatever you like," which I did, leaving a thank-you note in return before heading out.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. It rained again, making Colorado 3/3 on rainy days. I made a pass at 8,300 feet or so, but that was, nowadays, nothing special (...). I didn't see Ken or Tim, but had received a text from them the previous night, so assumed all was well. John apparently had a warmshowers train with a guy named Rob in Montrose, CO, so I was all set up for that night (and any cyclists coming the other way who stayed with Rob were set up with John on their next night -- quite the system). Oh, there was one change I made that day...
Mmm... microclimates.
Okay, so not the best solution, because after a few hours water does seep into the socks, and I don't have to spell out what happens after that. But your toes do stay dry for quite a while, and when they do get wet, at least they stay warm! Water can't keep cycling through your shoes, taking the heat with them. Just, you know, be sure to remove the Toe-Dri (R) every 24 hours or so...
Anyways, the point is that I was warm and toasty all day that day, despite the pouring rain. Okay, for the first half my hands were cold, but I finally found some glove liners that were only 20% cotton at a grocery store for $1 -- score! Not perfect, but I haven't regretted them yet. Also, the coffee shop there gave me a free cookie. I don't know if they felt bad or thought I was cute, but it really did help with the rain. You know, that whole sugar-makes-you... waterproof... thing... *ahem* (quick! Everybody go like Cimarron Books and Coffee House on Facebook!).
So I could build up the whole "it rained a crap ton" thing but I'm not sure how to do it without writing a whole other paragraph. Plus I was all waterproofed up so it really didn't matter. I pretty much just felt badass.
Made it to Montrose just before 6. Texted K/T to no response, so went ahead and moved in with Rob and Robyn, my hosts for the night. They have apparently hosted more than 100 people between warmshowers and couchsurf, so we had quite the night sharing stories. Also, the week before they had hosted a tourist named Abigail D., who I know from high school... there's your "small world" story. Pizza for dinner, homemade apple crisp for dessert... you people really have to stop spoiling me; or, I need to stay in a tent more often...
That's all for now! I'm currently in Salida, CO, two days ahead of the blog, but it seems like I'll be taking a break day tomorrow, so maybe I'll get all caught up... for real! Probably not, if history is any indicator. But it's fun to fantasize.
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