Telluride (one who supports adventures like mine, having had many of
them), I took off early in the cold to beat the afternoon
thunderstorms. There was ice on the deck of my new friend's apartment.
The climb out was the steepest I've encountered out here, but the
morning sun lit up the straight, white trunks of aspens that covered
the mountaintop. After this quick climb, I descended for a few miles,
long enough to freeze my legs back into stiffness before the real
climb of the day up to my final peak in the Rockies over Lizard Head
Pass (10,222 feet). I was very sad to reach the top and begin that
roll down the other side. I have loved the challenge of climbing up
the mountains out here.
(On another note, I passed a sign about the AC-DC Edison/Tesla debate.
AC electricity apparently proved itself in the San Juan Mountains - I
was too cold to read the whole sign - and became the dominant type.)
I rode downhill, very thankful for the warm cycling tights I'd bought
in Pueblo, through the shadows of the mountains. I arrived in a tiny
town called Rico, just 25 miles over Lizard Head from Telluride, and
heavily reliant on its skiing industry. There was a tiny little coffee
hut (it was about the size of my freshman dorm room) where I got a
scone literally fresh out of the oven and a hot cup of coffee. I tried
to warm up a bit and talked to some folks about a mining company that
wants to mine above the town's water supply (and thus compromising it)
in exchange for developing properties for the town's expansion. It is
just the same story everywhere, I guess. Telluride has apparently been
able to take more control as a community because of the extraordinary
wealth of its inhabitants. But most every other place else isn't so
lucky.
Anyway, I hurried down the mountain to Dolores, again straight into a
dark sky. I was rained on for a little while, but approaching the
elevation of Dolores (6,995 feet), the air was warmer and not like the
cold Telluride rain.
Dolores is situated along the Dolores River and is kind of at a
crossroads between the Rockies skiing/outdoor culture and the
southwestern history culture. Mesa Verde National Park is just a few
miles away, as is Four Corners, Arches and other landmarks in Utah.
More on all of those in the coming week as my dad and I visit them.
There's a great brewpub here called the Dolores River Brewery. I
chatted with a lot of folks there as I had a Rye Pale Ale. One retired
school-teaching couple who had sold their house were traveling around
the country in an RV. Oddly, they had just come from North Carolina on
virtually the same roads I've beon, crossing the Ohio and Mississippi
Rivers at Cairo (they agreed that both the bridges and Cairo were very
scary). One man was carrying around a copy of 'Captive Cabeese of
America,' which he had written. I knew about railroad enthusiasts, but
I did not know of that most peculiar enclave of caboose fans. I
learned a lot about cabeese and will gladly share if anyone is
interested.
And, finally, on my walk back, I saw a car decorated with women's
cycling stickers. I sought out the owner in the bike shop across the
street, who turned out to be the director of the US Women's Cycling
Development Program, a non-profit that works on getting sponsorship,
equipment, etc for rising cycling stars. So I got some 'I support
girls on bikes' stickers and made a new aquaintance.
This afternoon I'll be crossing into Utah, then meeting my dad
tomorrow. I will really miss Colorado. It is such a breathtaking
place, with its cold mountains, little local shops and warm people.
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