Day 66: Pittsburg to Eureka

May 5, 2004 Kansas

Set off at 8:40 am into a warm and brilliant day, not a cloud in sight. The wind was blowing from the south at 10 to 15 mph. We resumed peddling north on highway 69, then in 3 miles turned west on highway 47/57. There was a fair amount of local traffic, and the shoulder width was often quite narrow, but despite that the going was pleasant. For the entire day the land was green, lush, rolling gently, and perhaps 40 percent of it was wooded. We saw no pines, but some cedar and a huge variety of hardwoods. We saw many meadowlarks today, and enjoyed hearing their cheerful calls. And we were amazed to see so many roadkill armadillos, dozens of them, along with flattened possums and turtles.

Even with the south wind slowly strengthening, we made surprisingly good time. This was due in part to a lack of towns along the way, meaning that we spent less time at the rest stops. When we did stop, we found the locals to be quite friendly and helpful, giving us tips on which roads to take, which ones were paved, and which ones were gravel. With this tandem road bike with its skinny tires, we much prefer paved roads.

The day warmed rapidly, and by noon it was in the mid 70's. The south wind kept us cool as we rode along, but when we came to a junction and traveled north for a few miles with the wind at our backs, we no longer had that cooling breeze on our faces, and we dripped in sweat. Eventually Hwy 47 ended near Fredonia. We turned north onto Highway 400 and followed it, as it made wide turn to the west. Here was a section of road and widely scattered farmlands and not much else in the way of amenities. This road had an excellent shoulder on it, 12 feet wide with a rumble strip taking up half of it. The wind picked up even more in the afternoon, and blasted us from the side.

Finally we reached what we hoped would be a good-sized town, Severy. The town itself was hidden a mile or so to the south, so we stopped at an old, roadside gas station/truck repair shop. Jenny went in to ask for directions and learned that Severy had very little to offer the traveler, nor was there much along the highway to the west. The fellows were friendly and told us that Eureka, to the north had plenty of amenities. They invited us to fill our water bottles from their cooled drinking fountain, and we sat in the shade of their shop to rest awhile.

Instead of continuing west on 400, we cycled north toward Eureka. This 14-mile, somewhat hilly stretch passed by quickly with the 20 mph tailwind pushing us along. Eventually this road ended at highway 54 where we turned left, west.

Here Jenny noticed a snake on the gravel shoulder, so we stopped for a closer look. It was a beautiful gopher snake, (aka bull snake) about 3 feet long, that had been very recently injured by a passing vehicle. Its body was robust and unharmed, but its head was somewhat smashed, and the poor snake was dazed and failing fast. A tire must have just grazed its head. What a shame. This is a non-poisonous variety and of tremendous benefit to the ecology. Jenny moved the snake off the gravel shoulder and into the tall grass, but by then the creature had very little left in it.

We carried on the last few miles in to Eureka. The time was 6:30 pm and we were tired and hot and more than ready to quit for the day, but we had one priority and that was to find a grocery store where we could buy some fresh produce. We hadn't had any all day, and were especially craving fruit.

That ended a very interesting and rewarding day. Again due to the wind, our bodies were covered with a very fine, whitish grit, much finer than sand, more like dust.

Day's mileage: 115

Day 67: Eureka to Wichita

May 6, 2004 Kansas

Another fine day greeted us as we set off at 8:15 am under a warm sky with a fresh south-west wind. In fact, the wind had blown all night, and it was still at about 15 mph. A strong wind on the diagonal like this is not as difficult as a full-on headwind, but still it slowed progress dramatically.

We knew from the previous day's experience that where our map showed 20 or 30 miles of road with only one small town, we should not expect to find amenities. And so it was this morning. But we had some fruit with us and were ready for more peddling through the green, expansive Kansas landscape.

Not far out of Eureka the scenery changed from rolling woodland to rolling prairie. For me it was reminiscent of paddling across the treeline and into the Arctic, where, the farther you go, the less variety in the species of trees, and the smaller the remaining trees, until eventually the trees are very few and the views extend away to forever. The prairie here was beautifully green with foot-tall grass that appeared uncultivated. The cattle in the distance might almost have been mistaken for buffalo.

Highway 54 was busy with local traffic and a great many semis headed to the Wichita area, and the shoulder was only 12" to 18", for which we were thankful for at least that.

Jenny, always on the lookout for animals, noticed several snakes today, both live and roadkill. She even saw a large hawk flying overhead with a snake in its beak. There were also several roadkill deer, and for the first time in many weeks, no possums, armadillos or turtles.

Mid-morning we encountered another type of wildlife that we had not seen in several weeks: a couple of touring cyclists. At the moment we were on the official TransAmerica route, at least for this 20-mile stretch, and Katie and Mitch also happened to be riding their single road bikes on this particular stretch. We enjoyed a 10-minute chat, and one that certainly buoyed our spirits to meet other long-distance bicyclists. They had started their trip in northern CA, peddled south along the coast to San Diego, then followed the Southern Tier to El Paso, same as we had out of Phoenix, and they were now heading northeast to parts unknown. They said the country they had peddled through has been very beautiful, and that they were extremely disappointed with the bike shops along the way, having experienced a few major problems with them. Even so, they looked very fit and were in a very positive frame of mind.

A while later came to yet another first in a long while: a roadside picnic area. A couple miles east of the non-town of Rosalia was a great little rest area with grass, shade trees, half a dozen picnic tables, a few trash cans, and a couple of water spigots. What a welcome respite for these two hot and tired cyclists.

With the temperatures soaring and the wind blasting us in gusts of well over 20 mph, the 32 miles to El Dorado took us 3 hours to peddle. And the closer we approached Wichita, the less clear and clean the air. It might have been the strong wind picking up dust and pollen from the agriculture. Or it might have been the wind picking up chemicals of agriculture. Either way, the air smelled acrid, and whatever it was seemed to be affecting our breathing.

In many of the fields along the highway were "mules," like alien creatures, many dead but some still nodding their heads up and down. When directly downwind of some of these petroleum and natural gas wells, the odors were quite strong.

The early afternoon became humid and very hot, reaching the low 90s. And the relentless wind only increased to a steady 20 to 25 mph. We hunkered down and kept grinding, slowly crawling along, often at only 7 or 8 mph but sometimes on the downhill runs as high as 12. The afternoon traffic intensified, but here the modern divided highway had a very wide shoulder, complete with rumble strip, so we were in pretty good shape - save for the powerful vortices spinning off the semis - sometimes so strong they practically lifted us off our seats. Our helmets would have been lifted off our heads but for the straps.

By 4:00 pm we reached the northern suburbs of Wichita along Interstate 135, and here we stopped for the day.

The bike is working perfectly now, thanks to Charlie at A&B Cycles of Springfield MO, and to Ian at his bike shop in Wytheville VA. Having watched Charlie rebuild the rear hub, and because of his patient instruction, I now have a very good understanding of how this hub works. As such, I now feel that Ian was not, in fact, trying to sell us a bill of goods. Rather, that he was trying to do the most complete bike overhaul possible, notwithstanding his relative lack of experience with this particular type and brand of bike. He was trying to be thorough, almost to a fault, and that is why he changed out so many different parts. Ian's work on the hub had not held up, but Charlie's had, and this was because Charlie was far more experienced with specific problems of this type. As for the manufacturer telling us that of the thousands of their bikes out there and none ever needing a rear hub rebuild, I say baloney. By the time we had reached Virginia with only 3,000 miles on our bike, its rear hub had loosened and was definitely in need of a rebuild. This was due to the cones and locknuts not having been properly torqued against each-other. So over time the road vibration had loosened them. This improper work had been carried out at the factory as the technician was installing the rear disk brake - which was an option we had ordered. All that aside, as for the bike itself we are extremely pleased with its design, construction and performance.

We have lost count of the tube punctures on this trip, but have also become proficient at patching them. Ten minutes and we are back on the road. So they are not much of a concern. This is why we do not use slime, liners, extra-thick tubes, and so forth. It all adds weight and on a long trip such as this - that means more energy expenditure. More of a concern is the glass on the highway, because it can seriously damage the tires, so we have to be very careful to avoid it.

Last summer we peddled single bikes, and for much of the time I worried about Jenny's welfare behind me, especially in heavy traffic. That is why this year we are on a tandem bike. The tandem we are finding to have pros and cons. It is faster into the wind, because Jenny drafts directly behind me and adds her peddling power to mine. Relatively few bike shops have a clue about repair work on a tandem, but gradually we are sorting this out. And on a long trip such as this, with the stoker not being involved with the steering, braking and so forth, she is not participating in quite the same way as me. She has less to keep her occupied, not having to watch constantly for glass and nails ahead, and motorists behind, but also she has more free time for gazing about, observing wildlife and taking photos, and so forth. All in all, a pretty good trade off we think.

Were we on a tight budget, we would not be riding this tandem, nor staying in motels. Still, such a trip could be just as easily done. Camping is nearly always an option, particularly with what I refer to as Stealth Camping, low profile style. Motel life is not what it is cracked up to be, and often we have to peddle miles out of our way to find one. The reason for the motels is the Internet access. With a small laptop computer we are running our business in absentia. As for bikes, last year we peddled well over a thousand miles on $150 Schwinn Wal-Mart bikes. These were mountain bikes with knobby tires. Next time I would replace the tires with high-pressure skinny, treadless road tires. On pavement this would give a huge boost in mileage. I would replace the larger cog forward with an even larger one for easier uphill climbing on steep ascents. And once again I would keep the gear weight to the absolute minimum. One advantage with this setup is that practically every Wal-Mart store has replacement tubes, tires, and so forth. And should the bike develop major problems, another $150 would buy a new bike. By comparison, the cost of the overhaul on the tandem back in VA would have bought a new Schwinn for each of us.

Day's mileage: 64

Day 68

May 7, 2004 Kansas

Layover day in Wichita while the wind continued to whistle without letup.

Day 69: Wichita to Pratt

May 8, 2004 Kansas

After our rest day we finally rolled the bike out to the street, hopped on, and set off, continuing our track across Kansas. Today's wind was forecast for 25-35 out of the south, but as we made our way along the residential streets the tall trees blocked the heavy gusts. We crossed over the Little Arkansas River, then a few miles later, the Big Arkansas River. Surprisingly, they looked quite low. Most of the streams and small rivers we have been crossing in Kansas have been in flood stage, but not the Arkansas. A lot of it is probably diverted for agriculture.

As usual in the large cities, Jenny navigates with a small city map clutched in her hand, and directs me where to turn. Our route took us around the northwest side of Wichita, and eventually to highway 54/400 leading west past the airport. Here we were back in the brunt of the wind again, blasting us from the south, whipping bugs and grit and dust all over us. But the going was not unpleasant. The Saturday morning traffic was surprisingly light, and the newly paved road was clean and smooth, as was the very wide shoulder. For several miles I had to negotiate the rumble strips, spaced every 50 feet, and that ran perpendicular the whole width of the shoulder.

The landscape was fairly flat and after leaving the last suburb of Wichita we cycled past miles and miles of wheat fields and livestock pastures interspersed with quite a bit of land left in its natural state: undulating, full of natural grasses and wildflowers, with small pockets of trees, creeklets and ponds. We saw herons, egrets, Canada geese, mallard ducks, and the ubiquitous vultures, meadowlarks and red-winged blackbirds. And again, several roadkill armadillos. In the drainages were large, old cottonwood trees, and in fact the air was full of their cottony seed, like big, soft snowflakes.

We passed by several turnoffs to various reservoirs, and at the west end of Kingman we stopped at a small fishing supplies and bait shop to fill up our water bottles. The temperature had climbed into the high 80s and we were drinking a lot of water today to keep hydrated. Our map showed a roadside rest area about 8 miles west of Kingman, but when we got there we found it was just a paved pullout with no amenities. So we found a freshly mowed grassy area in the shade of a large pine tree. There were several of these old pines in a row here, and we guessed that someone must have planted them here nearly a century ago. Although there were quite a few stands of small, stunted, indigenous cedars in this area, we saw no other conifers. But there were many types of deciduous trees.

The afternoon wore on, the sun beat down, the wind gusts built strength, and for a while our shoulder was an unwelcoming strip recently tarred and graveled. The tires of the bike picked up small globs of tar to which the tiny rock chips stuck for awhile before being slung upward where they clinked against the bike frame, dinged against the rims and spokes, and spattered our ankles.

After several miles of this we crossed into yet another county and sure enough, the road condition changed again. Now we had no shoulder at all. We slowed our pace somewhat in case we had to ditch it onto the rough gravel. At least there were two lanes going our way, so the traffic could go around us without much danger. There was only one occasion when a driver did not pull over, even though he had no traffic behind him. In my mirror I saw the car approaching and I steered us quickly off the pavement. It was an elderly driver, not trying to cause us problems, but simply not reacting to road hazards.

Finally we arrived in Pratt and stopped for the day at 5:30 pm. We were pleasantly pooped from the hot and windy day, but were glad to have covered today's miles.

Day's mileage: 86

Day 70: Pratt to Dodge City

May 9, 2004 Kansas

The wind had veered to the southeast, so we were in for a good day. Setting off at 8:00 am, we followed highway 54/400 west, peddling among immense fields of grain, and every 10 or 12 miles passing by another towering set of grain elevators. We whizzed past several small towns, and between them watched the wind playing over the fields like waves in the sea.

The traffic was light, the shoulder excellent and the wind gave us a hefty push from behind. The high-pitch whine of tires on the concrete bridge surfaces might have been annoying except that it was coming from our own bike tires. At speeds of 25 to 30 mph we could feel no wind, meaning it was blowing at close to those speeds.

At Greensburg we took a breakfast stop at a gas station convenience store, and like many of its kind it had a few indoor booths. So there we sat sipping hot chocolates and eating oranges and bananas.

We crossed the Arkansas River again, surprised to find it almost dry in this particular area. Otherwise, at almost every other bridge crossing we saw hundreds of beautiful swallows darting this way and that, feeding on insects. And today seemed to be roadkill snake day. With all the fields of grain, there were surely mice galore, and thus many snakes, coyotes and raptors. Along the road we saw dozens of dead snakes, mainly corn and bull snakes, and one rattlesnake.

By noon the temperature was in the high 80s, and the wind was becoming increasingly gusty and swinging more to the south. Kansas derived its name from the Kanza people, and how appropriate that this means People of the South Wind.

Early afternoon we reached Dodge City, and there we stopped for the day.

Day's mileage: 83, Trip miles: 4,752

Day 71: Dodge City to Syracuse

May 10, 2004 Kansas

Good news again for us westbound cyclists today: the wind was still blowing in our favor. When we set off at 7:00 am the sky was mostly cloudy and the air a perfect coolness for cycling. The forecast was for a 50 percent chance of rain, so we had our rain parkas ready.

Like the previous day, we peddled along at a fast clip, getting a welcome boost from the tailwind. The landscape was gently rolling for the first 20 or 30 miles and the scenery most enjoyable, save for the occasional huge cattle feed lots (holding pens) and their despicable stench. The horrid conditions these animals are forced to live in are enough to make a person think twice about eating beef. Semis roared past, hauling the poor creatures to the slaughterhouses back in Dodge City, and each one of these trucks also emitted the foul odor.

The beef and dairy industry is solely responsible for the myth that we need to eat a certain amount of protein daily for optimum health. This myth is instilled in small children, with the food pyramid and so forth taught to every grade schooler, and it practically guarantees they will be steady consumers for life. The truth is that our bodies break the food we eat completely down into "basic constituents", of which science has identified more than 4,000 so far, and from these the body constructs the proteins and other nutrients it requires. This is how a cow, for example, which contains hundreds of pounds of protein, made it all by eating hay, which contains virtually none.

West of Dodge City the wide, divided highway with its clean and very generous shoulder with rumble strip suddenly narrowed to two lanes. The lanes were fairly wide, so even though the shoulder was now only 18" we were fine, especially since the motorists treated us with courtesy. Throughout most of the trip, it has been the truck drivers who have shown the most courtesy. Not all, but certainly the vast majority. For these people we have gained great respect. And where would our country be without the goods they deliver?

Throughout the day we paralleled the Arkansas River which was sometimes visible on our left. This river was delineated by a line of cottonwood trees, but in this area the river had been diverted for irrigation of the wheat fields, and the cottonwoods had been left to perish from thirst. Miles of these grand old trees, thousands upon thousands of them, dead. But when we think that a mature cottonwood sucks about 200 gallons of water from a river, each day, and that water is scarce in these parts, perhaps it is better to use the water for irrigation. Either way, it goes into vegetation, and this in turn helps enrich the atmosphere with oxygen. One of the best ways to waste water is to flush it down the toilet, three to five gallons at a time. Nevertheless it seemed odd to see such an important river, both historically and commercially, with its headwaters in the not-too-distant Rocky Mountains, totally dry here.

Cottonwood is one of the very best woods to use in bow drill fire-making, fire by friction style, and we have seen these trees growing throughout our trip, or at least their close relatives the yellow poplar. The inner bark also makes some of the best fire-starting tender.

Again today we saw dozens of roadkill snakes as well as several rabbits, a couple of hawks and pheasants, and an owl.

West of Cimarron there came quite a dramatic change in the landscape. It switched from lush farmlands to dry sagebrush prairie with yucca, cactus, and some areas of low bluffs and small ravines. There was still a lot of irrigated farmland, but it was interspersed with this more arid land. This aridity is caused, in part, by the rain shadow of the Rocky Mountains.

We cycled into Garden City, stopped at a small store for refreshments, and asked about a side road through town. A friendly clerk offered us a city map and gave us good directions. We followed Frontier Street, then Railroad Road, bypassing most of Garden City and cutting off a few miles of highway. Railroad Road, a two lane country road, took us through the small towns of Holcomb and Deerfield. We enjoyed riding this recently surfaced, and much quieter road. It led close to the Arkansas River and crossed it twice, affording a good look at the dry river bed.

All day the clouds had been darkening all around us, and their shadows were racing across the landscape. Then they began to dissipate ahead of us, almost as though we were being granted safe passage through a building storm. And it was a quick passage too. The wind was positively shoving us along. On one downhill stretch the speedometer hit 40 mph. And these were not steep downhills. But as we were racing down one hill an invisible dust devil slammed into us with very heavy turbulence, momentarily threatening to topple the bike. Once again we were reminded to be careful.

At the crest of another hill was a sign informing us that we were entering Mountain Time zone. This was a heartening indication that we were indeed making westward progress.

By midday we had left the thick and dark clouds far behind. Now the sky overhead was sunny, and this is when the air temperature began to increase dramatically. On the uphill bits the strong wind at our backs kept us cool, but on the downhills and flats, our speed generally matched that of the wind, and we sweated heavily.

At the crest of another hill we could see 10 or 12 miles ahead to the next town, Syracuse and its tall grain elevators, the cluster of green trees that typically signify a town, and a tall water tower with its four sturdy legs. We arrived in town at 1:30 pm (or 12:30 Mountain Time), and here, 16 miles short of the Colorado border, we stopped for the day. Thanks to the tailwinds we enjoyed an afternoon's rest.

The weather service issued severe thunderstorm warnings, and at sunset the clouds built into immense thunderstorms. These were incredibly dramatic, with dark, sculpted bottoms. They brought lightning and rain that pelted the ground for 15 to 20 minutes.

Day's mileage: 105

Day 72: Syracuse to Las Animas

May 11, 2004 Colorado

The early morning air was chilly, the sky was clouded over, and the wind was still blowing strong, but now out of the south. We set off at 6:00 am, and in 16 miles reached the border. As we crossed into Colorado the road and shoulder surface deteriorated abruptly. Good bye to the beautifully-surfaced roads and bicycle friendly shoulders of Kansas. This Colorado road had no shoulder, and the road itself looked like something leftover from WW2. It was very rough. But with the passing of tens of miles, the road gradually improved, until by early afternoon it was almost up to Kansas standards.

Shortly after crossing into Colorado we came to the small town of Holly, elevation 3,300 feet. Meaning that we had climbed about 2,000 feet since mid-Kansas. Here we stopped for refreshments, and to chat with a few amicable locals..

The south wind was growing in intensity, so we had our work cut out for us today. Generally our speed varied between 8 to 10 mph on the long, gradual uphills, to 12 mph while peddling down the hills.

Like western Kansas, this was farming and cattle ranching country. And while stopped in Lamar for cold drinks we overheard one of the local farmers talking with a store clerk. How's it going, she asked. "Be a lot better if it would rain and the wind would quit blowing," he replied. She said "Yeah, I sure wish it would quit blowing." To which he asked, ""you forget where you live?" Then he commented, "Before it will quit blowing, it will have to rain, but before it can rain, it will have to quit blowing." Sort of like Catch 22.

The clouds moved off to the northeast and left us with a beautiful day, despite the wind. Again we saw many roadkill snakes, rabbits, and a coyote. But one snake, a big rattlesnake, was coiled at the roadside and did not look dead at all. I had to quickly steer the bike around it.

The terrain was typically eastern Colorado, with its endless miles of rolling yucca-cactus-sagebrush. I whimsically asked Jenny if she could see the Rocky Mountains yet. But of course the horizon held only more brown, low-lying hills and some smudgy cumulus.

By mid day the temperature had climbed into the high 80s. Without the wind, the day would have been hot. At a whistle-stop of a town called Hasty we pulled off for a rest. To our good fortune we found a shaded picnic table on the front porch of a small store, out of the wind. So here we rested and drank our fill of juice and cold water.

The final 16 miles to Las Animas was extremely slow going, not because the road climbed gradually and almost continually, but because the wind was now head-on and blowing 25 to 30 mph. And to add a little interest we were hit by a few dust devils. These were even more turbulent than the vortices from the semis. The first dust devil we rode out: the bike lurched violently and I struggled to keep it upright and on the pavement. A little wiser at the approach of the second one, I stopped the bike and we rode it out with our feet planted firmly on the ground.

Nearly to the town of Las Animas we came to a motel and at 2:00 pm stopped for the day. The weather reports said that back in west Kansas, where we had been this morning, the wind was 40 mph.

Day's mileage: 83

Day 73: Las Animas to Walsenburg

May 12, 2004 Colorado

To our surprise and delight, the wind had ceased. We set off at 6 am, and at that hour the air was decidedly chilly. We cycled over the Arkansas River and through the low farmlands. The first 20 miles to La Junta went by quickly, and along the way we reached yet another milestone when the odometer turned 5,000 trip miles. The terrain was mostly flat, with a few uphills that did not go down the other side - we were ramping up into the Colorado high country.

La Junta was our jump-off point from Highway 50, which we had been traveling for many days. Now we headed southwest on Highway 10 that would take us 73 miles through what looked like no-man's land on the map, to Walsenburg. This 73-mile stretch had no towns, no side roads, no amenities of any sort. The wind started again, from the southeast, giving us a small boost. The sky was cloudless, the sun was shining, and the landscape was expansive and gorgeous.

The wind was building, but it was staying to one side and somewhat behind us. And since the terrain was still fairly level for the initial 20 miles of this stretch, we whizzed along. The two lane road was a bit rough in spots and the shoulder non-existent, but traffic was very light and the drivers were courteous and friendly. There was very little out here but prairie and open range. It was absolutely beautiful, with endless miles of wide-open, rolling grasslands, clusters of juniper and a few pinion, and yucca, with some small outcrops of sandstone. The air was clean and fresh, now that we were finally away from all the croplands and smelly feed lots.

All along the way we saw small groups of antelope, perhaps a hundred animals altogether. They were thriving out here, very beautiful in their color and fluid movements. Many of them watched us curiously as we peddled past. Like many of the animals we have seen, birds and ducks and so forth, they are very used to seeing trucks and cars, but when the bicycle goes past, they are much more leery because it is something very different and unfamiliar to them.

About 10 am we saw a car coming toward us that we recognized: it was my mother and father, who had driven 2 hours from Colorado Springs for a visit. Mom had spent the previous day making fresh juices for us, so for the next few hours we had the luxury of making occasional stops at our own personal JuiceMobile. Mom had also made sandwiches, trekker Bars, zucchini bread. We handed them our camera and finally got some pictures of us on the go.

In the distance ahead we could now see snowy peaks. This ride was very enjoyable, even with the hill climbing. The wind strengthened but it stayed behind us most of the way. We saw lots of beautiful wildflowers along the roadside and out across the prairies. And as we drew near the mountains, the views were absolutely stunning, especially East and West Spanish Peak plastered in snow. Even though the sun was shining brightly, the air temperature remained chilly throughout the day, especially with the wind.

Finally we zoomed down into the Chuchara drainage and Walsenburg. For kicks, Dad got on the bike, and he and I peddled a couple miles through town. Then Jenny and I finished the day by peddling Highway 160 west a few more miles to a motel with a fantastic view of the Peaks.

Day's mileage: 104

Day 74

May 13, 2004 Colorado

A storm moved in, and clouds moiled down from the high peaks and dumped a fair amount of rain. The pavement stayed wet all day, so we were content to spend the day visiting with my parents. We took a short drive in their car to see North La Veta Pass, and then in to Walsenburg to visit the second-hand store to buy a few warmer clothes. We would need these for cycling over the mountains. It is barely Spring here in Colorado, our thin blood is not used to the cool climate, and we had certainly not come dressed for it.

Day 75: Walsenburg to Del Norte

May 14, 2004 Colorado

We awoke to a clear and very cold morning. We were prepared with our warmer clothes and gloves, and were looking forward to cycling through some beautiful and mountainous country. The morning sun sparkled on the snow-whitened Spanish Peaks to the south, and here in the valley the recent rains had left every blade of grass and every needle and leaf on the trees glimmering. It was a picture-perfect Colorado morning. After saying loving goodbyes to my parents we set off at 7:00 am.

Following the Chuchara River drainage we spotted a few antelope and one herd of 18 deer. The muddy shoulder showed fresh deer, elk and coyote tracks. At one point a coyote ran across the road ahead of us. The only drawback was the high-speed traffic, and the road was only two lanes. But the shoulder was more than adequate with a rumble strip for some of the way.

While grinding up one of the steep sections we passed a cyclist pushing his bike. This fellow was what Jenny referred to as a hobo bicyclist. He had a huge bedroll and even a pillow strapped onto the back of his rather small mountain bike, and a couple of tatty grocery sacks hanging from the handlebars. He parked his bike on the shoulder and walked to a roadside creeklet running off the mountainside. As we cycled past he greeted us with a cheery hello and "have a nice ride." We wished him well and kept going.

The 22 miles from the motel to North Veta pass was uphill practically all the way. Most was gradual, but some was quite steep. And light headwinds further slowed progress. So it wasn't until 10:30 am that we finally reached the summit, at 9,413 feet elevation. With two short rest stops, the climb had taken us 3.5 hours.

Up here the air was extremely cold and we bundled in all our garments for the painfully cold ride down the other side. It was not a steep descent, and now the wind was blowing very hard directly at us, so we had to peddle downhill most of the way, and of course did not manage much speed. Even so, the frigid wind gave us a thrashing. But as we descended into the San Luis Valley, the air gradually warmed although the headwinds continued strongly.

In Fort Garland we stopped for hot chocolates, and from there the wind slackened and we began to pick up some cruising speed. Reaching Alamosa we crossed the Rio Grande river and cycled on through town. Exactly two months ago we had crossed this river much farther south, near Las Cruces, New Mexico, on our eastbound leg.

After a quick lunch stop we continued on across the expansive San Luis Valley. This valley is at about 7,700 feet elevation, and is positively immense. It is also about the flattest terrain we had seen on the entire trip. Some was irrigated farmland but most was undeveloped sagebrush prairie with scattered ranches and houses. Encircling the valley were impressive snow-clad peaks. Towering to our immediate north were craggy Mt. Blanca and Ellingwood, both over 14,000 feet.

Since mid-day the clouds had been building all across the valley, and now were spilling lacy curtains of virga, which is rain that evaporates before reaching the ground. We decided to press ahead, cycling through Monte Vista, and then in strong headwinds on to Del Norte, which we reached at 5:15 pm and called it quits for the day. A fellow I talked with said the wind had been blowing very strongly here for weeks.

Day's mileage: 105

Day 76: Del Norte to Pagosa Springs

May 15, 2004 Colorado

The morning was clear and cold when we set off at 7:00 am. We were bundled in all our cold weather clothing but were still chilly. The Saturday morning traffic between Del Norte and South Fork was relatively light which made for pleasant going, despite the stiff headwinds. And the scenery was grand. Behind us were the snowy peaks we had traveled past yesterday. Ahead were more snowy peaks. And all around were rolling foothills, isolated ranches, and pretty, forested slopes covered in Englemann spruce and aspen. We were paralleling the Rio Grande river which was positively gushing through this area, and along its banks grew large and stately cottonwoods.

At one point we encountered a fellow running along the highway, and pushing a small cart ahead of him containing his gear. He looked extremely fit, and his easy gait suggested that running was perfectly natural for him. We guessed he was running across the country. He did not seem interested in stopping to talk, unfortunately, so we exchanged quick greetings only.

The sun on our backs was somewhat warming, but the frigid headwinds wouldn't allow us to shed any of our warm clothes. By the time we reached South Fork at 8,100 feet elevation, we were more than ready for a hot chocolate at one of the convenience stores. The clerk told us the wind always blows here, and always from the west. We warmed up somewhat, then set out for our next objective: Wolf Creek Pass at 10, 850 feet, and 20 miles distant. Getting over this pass as early in the day as possible was important because afternoon thunderstorms are common in these mountains.

A few miles west of South Fork we came to a road widening project that had traffic backed up for a quarter mile. A sign said to expect a 40 minute delay. We cycled past the waiting motorists and reached the flagger who told us we had only about 15 minutes to wait. So we pulled off the road and enjoyed a breakfast break in the warming sunshine. Soon we were on our way again, with all the traffic. The road work area was rough and the traffic had to go slow, so we could easily keep up with the flow. So we stubbornly held our place in the long line of cars, ignoring the fancy pickup tailgating closely behind us in an obvious but unsuccessful effort at intimidation. Eventually we reached the smooth pavement, and allowed the remainder of traffic to pass us. Once they had all gone by, much to our delight we had the road to ourselves for the next 45 minutes - until the next wave of traffic came zooming up behind us.

And so we peddled our way slowly but surely toward the pass. The air was still cold, but our cycling exertions kept us adequately warm. And the views were superb. The landscape was wild and still quite snowy. Along the way we took a couple of rest stops, sitting by the side of the road and admiring the valleys below and forested slopes across the valleys. In these higher regions the aspen were still bare and the wildflowers had not yet started blooming.

Eventually we came to the Wolf Creek Ski Area, and from there it was only a couple of short switchbacks to the pass and the Continental Divide, which was buried in many feet of glistening snow. The time was 12:00 noon; the climb had taken two hours.

We stopped at the summit to put on more clothes in the biting west wind, when along came another cyclist up the highway from the west. Tim was from Pagosa Springs, and said he peddles up to this pass once a week. He was on an extremely high-tech racing bike, and his cycling clothing had no-nonsense professional racing written all over them. His body was like nothing I had ever seen, unbelievably thin, unimaginably healthy, and totally honed for road racing.

We knew the ride down from the pass would be very cold, so we pulled on our jackets and warm gloves. Sure enough, as we picked up speed on the downhill run, the wind was bitingly cold. But the ride was positively thrilling, at least for the initial half of the descent where the pavement was smooth. I pretty much held the speedometer at 45 mph, and Jenny said later it was a white-knuckle ride. We descended quickly and the air temperature rose accordingly.

Eventually the pavement roughened, and required the use of the rear disk brake for several more miles of the descent. We passed several more cyclists on their way up, and each gave us a hearty wave as we zipped by. It was a nice feeling, being accepted by the local cyclists. Down and down we went, and soon were paralleling the San Juan River as it flowed through brilliant green meadows. Here the aspen were glistening lime green in their new spring dress. Surely this was Colorado at its best.

The ride on toward Pagosa Springs was pleasant and we continued to pass other friendly cyclists going the other way. Most were dressed in shorts and sleeveless shirts, and we felt out of place in our long pants, warm gloves, and layers of shirts and jackets. In the warm sunshine we finally stopped to remove several layers. In 1992 we had hiked along the lowermost section of this road on our way from Canada to Mexico, and it was fun remembering some of the details of our time in this region.

We cycled into Pagosa Springs and took a long, relaxing rest in the middle of town at a fine overlook, where the San Juan River flowed swiftly past the hot springs. A few kayakers dressed in their cold-water dry suits were out playing in the rapids.

We cycled west three 3 miles steeply uphill, and finding lodging we stopped for the day at 2:00 pm.

Day's mileage: 65