People over 40 cannot be trusted.
Jim got up at 6:00 in the morning. I was actually awake at that ungodly hour, since Jim had decided to sack out right in front of the bathroom, preventing access by yours truly. And so it happened that at 6:00 in the morning, about 5 hours earlier than I like to wake, I lay squirming in bed with a few pints of beer keeping me company. It was, my dear friends, not a pretty sight. When Jim finally got up, I literally sprinted to the bathroom and gave Monte's new water main a run for its money.
After that, there was no viable way for me to go back to sleep, so I packed up while Monte cooked us pancakes. Monte, to his credit, said something about Jim's failed promise to sleep in.
Jim and I have identical bikes, though he uses a BOB trailer instead of saddlebags. He also had his mechanic switch out his crankset, giving him a 22-tooth granny ring instead of the original 32-tooth ring. I, of course, have the original 32-tooth ring. Gosh, I'm so macho. I hope I remember that when my knees blow out.
So I scarfed down some of Monte's pancakes and walked outside. I was a bit surprised that the sun was out that early, but when I asked Monte, he said that wasn't unusual. Still, it seemed strange to me, but so did being outside at 7:30 in the morning, so I didn't make a big deal about it.
Here's a shot of me and Jim-the-lying-bastard-who-woke-me-up just before we started the climb to Hoosier Pass.
The summit was tough, but not as tough as I had expected. The final four miles of climbing involved about 1,400 feet of elevation gain -- about a 7% grade. I quickly dropped to my lowest gear, and having no alternative, I kept pedaling. Jim, with his extra-low gearing, dropped back. about 50 minutes later, at 9:10 in the morning, I summited the pass -- at 11,542 feet, the highest point on the TransAmerica Trail.
All in all, the climb was much easier than many of the climbs back east -- though it was a lot longer. I just kept an even pace -- 4.8 mph -- and thought of all the things I'd done to get that far. I reached the top before I knew it. The road sucked though -- recent construction had left gravel all over the roadway, and passing cars sent the loose rock bouncing into my face.
About 20 minutes after I reached the top, Jim rolled up. I must admit that I did enjoy dropping him so far behind -- a bit of retribution for the early start. Low gearing or no, I blew him away and I loved it.
Here's the view I savored for 20 minutes! while I waited for Jim to show up =)
The ride down to Breckenridge was pretty exciting. Nothing like braking out of a 40 mph downhill to make a hairpin turn. Not that I'm complaining -- at least I didn't have to pedal. I stopped in Fatty's Pizzeria in Breckenridge, where I had a nice sandwich and a Fat Tire, then decided to push on. One good thing about getting up earlier than God is that you can ride really, really far before the sun sets.
There's a bike path from Breckenridge to Silverthorne, and it's great, but I get easily confused, so I ended up at a Wal-Mart in Frisco. I finally figured out where to go and set out for Kremmling -- but my old nemesis, the headwind, appeared. So after leaving Frisco, my day got pretty craptacular, and I didn't really enjoy it all that much.
I did meet a road biker named JC who rode with me for a bit. We chatted a bit about the trip and the job market, then she veered off to ride back to town while I rode into the wind. The cheap, crappy radio I bought at Wal-Mart wouldn't catch a single station, so I spent the afternoon in silence, wondering why I wasn't still at Fatty's with a beer in my hand.
So I roll into Kremmling, and the only thing that's kept me going is a promise to stay in a motel when I get to town. But 50 feet from the motel, I hear a yell, "Hey! You riding cross country?"
I turn around and set my eyes on Bubba. I don't know how to describe Bubba, except to say this: He's huge (well over 6 feet,) he dresses entirely in lime green (to match his bike) and he has a small pig on his bike (Bubba was a cop in St. Louis for 27 years)..
I rode up and introduced myself, and he invited me in to dinner. Once inside, I met two other riders -- Ian, a computer programmer from Scotland, and Maggie, a cabbie from the Isle of Jersey. So we settled in for dinner, then we went to the fire station and set up our tents (no motel for me!)
The firehouse was nice, but the mosquitoes were insane, so we all hid inside our respective tents until we fell asleep.