Despite my resolve to rise at dawn, I slept until 7:30, then ate some pancakes and got rambling. I was greeted with another beautiful day, allowing me to see the Rockies in the distance. I had seen some of the outlying mountains the previous night, but this was my first view of the Rocky chain. Even when you're tired and sleep-deprived and overworked, seeing the mountains gives you a boost and helps you through the day.

Did I mention the wind was in my face? It was, though at a blessedly lesser speed. Still, I made decent time as I headed into Pueblo.

I was a bit worried about my rear tire, since I had noticed a bald patch while loading my gear up. The tire had made it 2400 miles, and though I had a spare, I desperately wanted to make it to the bike shop and let them change it. But about 15 miles into the day the tire developed an egg that made my bike bounce up and down with every wheel revolution. I finally stopped on a broad shoulder and changed the damn thing. It served me well, but hell, give me 30 more miles.

So I sat on the side of the road and wrestled my new tired on, with the sun baking me the whole time. I finally got back on the road and pedaled into town.

See the mountains? That means climbing. Climbing bad. But at least there's something to look at.

I climbed into Pueblo along a busy road, enjoying clever comments from a passing military caravan, and soon reached the Great Divide bike shop. Talk about a needed service -- it was the first bike shop for weeks. I cleaned them out -- two new tires, a taillight, 36 new spokes (I had my rear wheel respoked entirely. My last spoke break happened on level ground, which probably means that the spoke had residual damage), a pasta strainer, a new tube and numerous repairs to the bike itself.

I ran into the madmen, Dennis and John, at the bike shop. They had made it to Pueblo the previous day and had taken Saturday off -- their first rest day of their tour. Their totally mad, by the way. We chatted for a while, and they showed off their new loads -- they had each mailed about 30 pounds of gear back to New York. They ditched their stove, cooking gear, and loads of stuff. Lucky punks. They set off before my bike was fixed, so I said a final goodbye. They are heading west to San Francisco, though even if they went north with me, I doubt I would have kept up with their pace.

Then I treated myself to a real luxury -- a Best Western. Without a doubt, these are the swankiest of my accomodations. They give you shampoo. It's decadent. After cleaning up, I walked to Pueblo's Riverwalk, where I listened to a free concert and watched a fantastic sunset. It was a perfect night, with a cool, dry climate and a peaceful atmosphere. I dig on Pueblo.