Day thirty five.
Denver or bust! 52 miles.
Max didn’t see a single lake he didn’t want to jump into.
Soon enough we were back on some of the best single track I’ve ever ridden. Even with the loaded bikes, it was just so fun.
So close to the end and Max started having bike troubles. His rear brake pads were gone and he started getting flat tires.
Climbing switchbacks. You can see Max above me.
Four flat tires! Up to this point we used plugs to repair Max’s leaking tire. We finally had to remove the tubeless tire and insert a tube.
The final six miles of the Colorado Trail featured this smooth as hell dirt road decent.
And that’s it! We finished the ride! But wait? What now? There wasn’t a hotel at the base of the trail! Who designed this thing?
So we had to do another ten or so miles, into the evening to get to a hotel. But they were a sweet, easy 10 on bike paths.
We arrived after 9pm. Happy as clams.
Day thirty four.
Back on the roads already? 69 miles.
Yep. The Colorado Trail between Breckenridge and Denver runs through the Lost Creek Wilderness National Forest, which prohibits bicycles. So the route for bicycles makes a large detour on paved and dirt roads, so that was our entire day.
That band of snow on the mountain is the glacier Max was climbing the day before.
We sat at a firehouse using their electric to charge our devices. While waiting, we played a game where we tried to identify the colors of Sour Patch Kids by taste. Max got three out of five correct. I got one out of five.
This is clearly the most popular sign in America. It’s just crazy how many NO TRESPASSING signs we see. “Keep out, keep out, keep out.”
Shortly after I took this photo, we came to a creek and we needed water. We dropped over the edge of the bridge to get to the creek and filtered a few liters. As we were finishing up and loading our bikes again, a woman drove up and came at us hot. “You are trespassing! I’m calling the sheriff!” She was so, so angry. It was like a YouTube video. We probably stood on a yard of her property, just so we could get to the water, but she didn’t care. Then her husband showed up, called us dicks, took our pictures, and said next time he will drive us off a cliff. In the mayhem, I left my rain jacket sitting there. Ugg. They did not lead with kindness, the opposite of so much we have seen on our journey.
We stopped here for dinner and contemplated staying for the night, but finally decided to move on.
This area we rode through was so dramatic. It had clearly suffered a wildfire, and we could only imagine how amazing it was before.
We ended up camping in a no camping zone. But when you’re traveling by bicycle, sometimes your options are limited. We always practice “leave no trace.”
Mail Bag
Anna from Chicago asks, “How do you push through when every part of your body wants to stop or give up? What are the things you say to yourself?”
Great question Anna! It’s something we deal with daily. A lot goes into the mental game of pushing further when you are tired. In no particular order:
If the road is bad, just push on and it will get better.
If the climb is long and steep, push on and it will go downhill.
If you are thirsty, drink. Hungry? Eat. Not hungry? Eat anyway. It’s amazing what a body can do when it’s properly fueled.
And sometimes you just HAVE to keep going, you can’t stop here.
A four word phrase that makes happy people sad and sad people happy, “This too shall pass.”
JMo from Cincinnati asks, ”Do your sit-bones still hurt when you get on the bike or are you calloused by now that it’s comfortable? And when you get tired—what is tired? Thighs, shoulders, neck, sit-bones?”
Great question JMo! Maintenance of the undercarriage has been a big part of our trip. We used copious amounts of chamois cream to reduce friction and prevent saddle sores. Now we don’t worry about that. Pain in the sit bones is still a thing, but mostly just when climbing, when you are pulling hard on the bars and driving your bottom into the seat. Obviously the legs get tired, but mostly only after a rest. When you start again, it seems like they are too tired to continue, but 30 seconds later, amazingly, they just do the work.
Day thirty three.
Slow going, but beautiful!
I woke up to a wet tent!
Now we are seeing mostly hikers. This guy came up on us as we were getting water. He wouldn’t stop talking to us. We literally rode away from him mid sentence.
Very Zen.
This guy was a gem. He’s hiking the 532 miles of the trail and his wife is driving along in a van. They meet up every 4-5 days. While he is hiking, she has been teaching herself mandolin.
As we were approaching the tree line, it got a little stormy, and we set up a makeshift camp.
Happy Andy at 11,500 feet. Georgia Pass.
After dropping down the east side of the pass we got back into the forest.
Day is done.
Day thirty two.
Day one of the Colorado Trail.
Have you ever seen a kid happier to have a McDonald’s breakfast?
While our previous route on the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route was mostly dirt roads, the Colorado Trail is a single-track hiking/biking route. It kind of feels like the adventure has just begun.
We had to push up miles of rocky trail, but we know that the trail will turn mostly downhill as we make our way east toward Denver.
Max walked from camp to get some water and returned with a lovely bouquet for me!
Day thirty one.
Decision day.
We didn’t go far today, only 25 miles, but we made a major decision. We want to be back in Illinois by July 24, so we won’t be going all the way to New Mexico, which means we have set out sights on Denver as our port to home. So, how to get there? We could just find some roads and cycle down the Front Range. It would probably be full of traffic though. Or, we could take the Colorado Trail, a single-track hiking and mountain biking trail that goes from Durango east to Denver. And it just so happens the trail transects our route right here.
This should give you an Idea of the altitude around here.
This looks like a lovely campsite, but there was a highway about 40 yards behind me.
Day thirty.
Back to the mountains. Altitude: 9,700 ft. Miles: 66.
This Eurasian Magpie aggressively wanted our breakfast.
In Kremmling, CO, we got some local advice on our route choices.
Do you think Jesus was interested in telecommunications?
More trail magic.
We rolled into our campsite after dark.
Mailbag
Jakey from Palatine, IL asks: “Max, what are you listening to?”
Max is listening to This American Life, S-Town podcast (recommended), and Josh Johnson.
JMo from Cincinnati, OH asks: “What do you eat in a day?”
Yesterday I started with two packets of oatmeal and a banana. Then I ate a full-sized Snickers Bar by 9am. A Cliff Bar by 11am, then fried chicken for lunch. Dried fruit, Sour Patch Kids, almonds, and cookies through the afternoon. Then an instant noodle, a backpacker meal and a Nutella/peanut butter taco for dessert.
Mark from Geneva, IL asks, “was that cabin new or old?”
It was built in 1880 as a residence, hotel and stage coach stop. It appeared to have been restored a bit recently.
That’s all the time we have today. I have to go ride my bike.
Day twenty nine.
Steamboat Springs to Radium. John Denver had it right, Northern Colorado is making us high! (Or at least happy.)
Away with the endless dry basin of Wyoming and into the rolling verdant valleys of CO! Lots of climbing though.
Side one.
Side two.
Max made the comment that he felt like a sack of potatoes. I can further the analogy in that sometimes our potato-like state is still able to do the work, like cut up potatoes in boiling water, still a potato, but active. And sometimes we just need to sit on the counter and be a potato.
This is Alex, so adorable. She’s from Naperville and she thinks her dad lives in Saint Charles or Geneva, she’s not sure. We met her as she was pushing her bike up a very large climb with about an hour of daylight left. Normally, one doesn’t venture higher at the end of a day, rather you stay in a valley, out of the wind and near a stream. But Alex has been on the trail since Sedona, so she knows what she’s doing and didn’t seem to have a care in the world. She had a mud covered guitar. Just…wow.
My first taste of water from the Colorado River.
We camped illegally in a picnic area, but it was mostly hidden by the overgrown grasses and we liked the tables.
Day twenty eight.
Steamboat Springs! 48 miles.
We are meeting so many people, so many conversations with total strangers. Many of our interactions are with other cyclists, so we have common topics to draw on, “Where did you start? Where are you from? Where did you sleep last night? Does your ass hurt too?” It’s been great for Max to practice his interpersonal skills and to notice the differences in how people interact with the world. Priceless experience.
This is Kirsten. She is a stoner from Michigan who runs the lodge we stayed in last night. She’s a legend on this route.
Is this the way to Mexico? I walked/pushed for two miles.
This is Andrew from South Africa. He lives in the states now and he and his wife sold their house and are doing the van life thing. She is driving along the route while he rides, so his load is super light as he doesn’t need extra clothes or food or camping gear. Definitely an appealing way to go. He is a northbounder.
And our last intro for the day is Michelle. Last night, knowing we were going to be in Steamboat Springs, I went on the facebook group for the route and found Michelle’s post offering her side yard, only three blocks from downtown. Turns out she was a Peace Corps volunteer in the Dominican Republic two years before Jenny and I were volunteers in St. Lucia. She let us take a shower, do our laundry, and even gave me a whiskey!
The people on this route have really enriched our experience!
Day twenty seven.
Rawlins, WY to Brush Mountain Lodge, CO. 74 miles plus a power assist from a trail angel.
There are lots of hikers on the Continental Divide Trail. It’s a footpath separate from our route, but we occasionally cross paths. We are amazed at these people, traveling so slowly, in the heat and bugs. Hardcore.
A trail angel maintains a water stop here in the middle of nowhere!
This section was super rolly, with a six mile climb in the middle.
Finally back into the trees. This is an aspen forest, and we think the forestry service is cutting down all the pines that are competing for space.
Hello Colorado!
We had another 12 mile climb on dirt roads to reach the Brush Mountain Lodge. After 74 hard miles I was super tired, but Max was my savior. He asked a passing pickup truck for a ride and he happily agreed! We loaded up and enjoyed an exciting open air ride to our destination for the day.
Brush Mountain Lodge hosts hunters in the fall and cyclists all summer. A great spot!
Day twenty six.
New achievement unlocked! 100 miles! Max’s first century!
Every serious cyclist knows that the century ride is a rite of passage, most commonly achieved on an organized ride, with aid and food stations, on a lightweight road bike with skinny little tires. Not Max! His first century was on a loaded bike, with winds in every direction, on dirt roads no less!
Sunrise in the Great Basin. Gotta get up early to go far.
One of the only signs of civilization.
Two-thirds of the way through is this reservoir where we had lunch and Max cooled off with a dip.
We eventually fell onto this paved road, which has to be the loneliest pavement in the world. We didn’t see a single car for 20 miles.
We traded a tent for a hotel in Rawlings. A shower and clean clothes were in order.
Day twenty five.
The Great Basin day one. From the shadow of a rock tower to a ditch. 68 miles.
Today we entered Wyoming’s Great Basin, an area hovering around 7,000 feet in elevation and 4,000 square miles. Apparently water that falls on this area doesn’t flow to any ocean, which would make one think that it’s wet, but no. It’s the driest place we’ve been with only a few water sources in our 140 mile journey through it. Also, no vegetation over a foot tall, no shade, no people, and beside the actual road we traveled and one oil field, no sign of civilization. For a 140 miles!
Max, tending to our stove for some morning coffee and oatmeal.
Look closer at this photo. Where’s Waldo?
Aggressive oral hygiene.
Atlantic City, a boom and bust town that was once the second largest city in the Wyoming Territory with 3,000 people in 1865, sits on the edge of the Great Basin. We stocked up on water and food before launch.
This is the view. Never ending roads across a barron landscape. The good gravel and favorable winds made for a really beautiful day of riding.
One person we spoke to who was traveling north and had already been through the Basin said the winds were so strong they broke a tent pole. Another showed us a photo of the dust and sand INSIDE her tent from a dust storm. That in mind, we chose as low a spot as we could find to pitch the tents. Turned out to be a calm, quiet night.
Day twenty four.
The day my bike was held hostage at a bike shop. Tanluhu was not happy.
When I broke a spoke in Butte, the friendly mechanic fixed it in an hour and charged me $10. A deal to be sure.
While my mechanic in Pinedale was very friendly, we were forced to spend the night in town and the bike wasn’t ready until nearly four in the afternoon! And I paid $120!
We finally got on our way out of town.We are always on pavement before and after a town. A necessary evil.
But soon enough we were back on gravel and we were able to cover 54 miles before we were forced to set up camp at sunset.
This was the sunset in the west.
And this is actually the moon rise in the east! Honestly. The iPhone camera makes it brighter than it was, but it was amazing!
Day twenty three.
From a tent by some logs to a tent in a park in Pinedale, WY. 60 miles.
Dear readers. Max and I would like to thank you for your comments. We’ve enjoyed reading them and feel motivated by your support.
Waterboy in action.
This road had world’s quietest gravel. Hard, smooth, downhill and with a tailwind. But before that we were on some super rocky roads and I managed to pop another spoke, which instantly caused a tire wobble. We got to a bike shop in Pinedale, but the mechanic can’t do it until tomorrow. So, we found a spot in a park to stealth camp for the night.
Days twenty, twenty one, and twenty two.
Two days of recovery, then back on the trail. 49 miles.
To my tens of loyal readers, sorry I didn’t get around to updating this blog. Too busy R-and-R-ing.
We had two wonderful days with Sophie and her family in Jackson. They were super nice and welcomed us with open arms.
Beautiful views of the Grand Tetons.
A little paddle board adventure on String Lake.
This is Link.
Then Aunt Susie dropped us back onto the trail and we were off.
Dirt roads for miles and miles. We climbed up and over Union Pass.
We ended the day at this cozy cabin. It’s free, first come, first served. Another couple were already there. Their names were Leslie (61) and Lee (55) and they are brother and sister from Oregon. How amazing that they are having this adventure together! Are you ready Janet?
Day nineteen.
From a tent by a creek to a giant pickup truck. 20 miles.
Our stats so far.
1,087 miles
67,055 feet of climbing
109 hours of pedaling
Alberta, British Columbia, Montana, Idaho, Wyoming
Perhaps it’s time for a break. We’ve climbed the equivalent of sea level to the top of Mount Everest twice!
We set out this morning knowing it would be a short day. Max’s girlfriend, Sophie, is spending the summer in Jackson and invited us to get off the trail for a few days for some much needed rest at her aunt and Uncle’s house. Also a nice opportunity to reset our gear and spend some time caring for our bikes.
This is a snow gage, placed randomly along the way. It goes up to 16 ft!
As we got closer to Grand Teton National Park we passed through a large section of forest that had burned in 2016. New trees were plentiful and about waist high. But the standing dead ones looked eerily like skeletons standing guard.
Max had a battle with pretty severe dehydration today. Look closely and you will see him lying down under that picnic table, the only shade we could find.
We arrived at the Headwaters Lodge and relaxed while we waited for our ride.
Success!
We were greeted by this guy. We plan to rejoin the route on Tuesday morning.
Day eighteen.
From a wet forest in Montana to a mosquito infested site next to a stream in Wyoming. 80 miles.
Lots of times, if we stay the night in a US Forest Service campsite, there are bear-safe boxes where we can stash our food, but when we are “wild” camping, you have to hang your food in trees, six feet from the trunk and 12 feet off the ground.
The route put us on a lot of heavily trafficked dusty dirt roads. There was a rail trail along side it, but it was so bumpy and sandy to be unridable.
The Warm River.
These are timbers at the entrance to an abandoned train tunnel.
Our first glimpse of The Tetons, from the west. Tomorrow we will ride along the eastern shore of Jackson Lake.
Not a good sign, especially for cyclists. Notice the chunky gravel. It lasted for ten god forsaken miles.
We started the day in Montana, kisses just a bit of Idaho, and now we are in Wyoming. Next comes Colorado and finally New Mexico.
Day seventeen.
From Lima to a forest in the rain. 69 miles.
Good morning Savoy.
Cows! Watch our one minute interaction with the cows.
I had a nice chat with these cowboys. They were moving a herd to new pastures. The older guy on the right said his employer, Maverick Ranch, has 400,000 acres and that he has the best job in the world.
He also said they coated the road for us.
Big sky country.
Max tried to swim here, but it was too mucky. As we were getting ready to leave the lake a wicked wind picked up, which usually means rain too. We thought about pitching our tents right there, but realized that the wind was blowing in our direction of travel. We took off as quickly as we could and enjoyed a wicked fast 15 miles of gravel before it caught us.
Fortunately for us we found this storm drain in which to ride out the storm. It really didn’t rain that much, so there was no danger.
We found a forest and set up in a light drizzle. A good day indeed.
Day sixteen.
From Grant to Lima. 70 miles.
We stopped an hour or so into our day for a drink of water and, as always, a bite to eat, and this nice guy stopped by to chat. He lives on the route and is interested in the riders. We asked him some questions and it turns out he was born in a house just up the road and he’s lived there all his life. He owned 40,000 acres of land dedicated to cattle grazing, the third generation of his family to do so. He had his dog and his shotgun on the seat next to him.
My usual view. I am on a constant search for what I call “quiet gravel.” When the gravel under your tires doesn’t make much noise, that means it’s smooth and fast. Sometimes you find it for a few seconds before it’s gone and you scan the road for the next smooth-looking section. And sometimes the road is just so full of rock there just isn’t any quiet gravel to be had.
Max is a little dot up the road.
This kid is a gem. He regularly beats me to the tops of the climbs. This time, when I found him at the summit, he had already heated water and prepared some instant pad Thai, ready to nourish my tired muscles.
Only 8 more miles! We took a break and I could not resist lying down to rest. Such a sweet feeling to relax for a sec. While I was there I played that game where you identify shapes and objects in the clouds. I saw a pirate ship.
Camped under a pavilion in a nearby park.
Day fifteen.
80 miles. Our biggest day yet.
I finally figured out why Max named me, Tonluhu. Check out my glove.
We were surrounded by storms today, but only felt a few drops. We were, however, blasted by headwinds.
This is where we are staying tonight. A saloon with guest rooms upstairs. It’s a charming dump. With the questionable weather along with my general level of exhaustion, I just couldn’t see setting up my tent tonight.
They called this The Victorian Room.
Day fourteen.
From somewhere to somewhere else. 75 miles or so.
After filling up our water bottles, we headed off to pedal to Butte Montana. I broke A spoke the day before, and it was a chance to resupply at the grocery store.
This guy was an absolute gem. He stopped what he was doing, replaced the spoke and trued the wheel, and charge me $10.
More Trail Magic. This nice fellow saw us sitting at the edge of the road resting and he stopped to give us a cold soda and four granola bars.
This was another situation where it’s hard to believe this trail is intended to get us all the way to Mexico. Fun single track, but slow going with a loaded bike.
Huge sections of Forest are dying because of a beetle infestation. If left alone, it’s perfect fuel for fires, so the forestry service chops them up and makes little individual bonfires that they will burn at some point. We saw lots of instances after the burn takes place like 1 million little campfires.
This was our campsite for the night. You can’t win them all.