At
one point, I found a huge black feather lying on the road. I think it
might be a crow's feather. It's about 40 cm long. Ruth says feathers are
good luck, so I'm carrying it with me -- I'm not sure if I'll be
allowed to bring it back with me to New Zealand, but I'll try.
The dry and hot air made my nose bleed -- for about the fourth time since we started riding.
At
one point, two motorcyclists passed us. I was slightly ahead, and Gay
called out "rider down". I thought he meant that Pete had crashed, but
when I got back I saw it was a third motorcyclist. Pete and Gay helped
him to right his bike. He had skidded on some loose gravel, and had
broken his front brake!
As
we rode on, we saw thousands of caterpillars again on the road. It was
impossible to avoid them entirely, as the track was rough and rocky, but
I tried.
The
climbing was tough, lots of it was just a steady unsealed road, but
then other parts were rough and rocky, or with deep ruts. I had to walk a
few of the steeper uphills.
At long last we reached the top of the first major climb, the Brazos Ridge at 11,000 feet. There were stunning views, and a moderate wind, though it was quite warm.
At long last we reached the top of the first major climb, the Brazos Ridge at 11,000 feet. There were stunning views, and a moderate wind, though it was quite warm.
Amazingly,
we had a cellphone signal, and I was able to send Ruth a text message.
We rode into the trees, where we had lunch sitting beside a pile of
half-melted snow.
The
descent down the other side was insane: riding down a steep slope with
loose rocks everywhere. It felt like riding down a scree slope. I was
very careful not to crash, and put my feet down several times. The other
two walked down because it was so dangerous.
The
rocky descent finally became an ordinarily unsealed road again, and we
descended into a huge valley. In the valley we suddenly saw an old man
walking with a stick and his dog! He seemed to be a shepherd -- there
was a flock of sheep, some cows, and another dog wandering about. The old man spoke only Spanish, but he seemed to be encouraging us on -- he gave me a pat on my back as I rode past!
We
rode to the far end of the valley, and began to climb again. The climb
seemed to be relentless -- Pete was struggling, while Gay and I just
rode along. I was tired but it wasn't too bad -- my mountain bike really
suited this terrain.
We had covered 44 km by 3 PM,
and we knew it was about 75 km to Horca. I was worried that Pete
wouldn't be up to it, but we kept going, stopping a few times to rest
and eat.
The
hills just never seemed to end, and even the descents were really hard
work. This is definitely the most technical and rough riding we have
done so far on the entire Divide route.
At one point, we heard the whistle of a train. There is a steam train based in Durango, not far to the west of here, it goes to Silverton. At long last we descended into a huge field, and a little bit further on we reached the Colorado state line. Progress!
Almost
immediately, the road seemed to be less rough. We stopped for some
food, then climbed up a series of switchbacks, over the railway line,
and onto the highway at last.
Just before we reached the highway I saw a deer standing near the track. It watched me for a while before darting into the trees.
As we reached the tar-seal, we met another cyclist. He was planning to tour part of the Divide route, but had decided to skip the New Mexico section. We could understand why: the last five days have been brutal. It felt strange to ride on tar-seal again. It was so smooth and so easy to cover the distance!
Just before we reached the highway I saw a deer standing near the track. It watched me for a while before darting into the trees.
As we reached the tar-seal, we met another cyclist. He was planning to tour part of the Divide route, but had decided to skip the New Mexico section. We could understand why: the last five days have been brutal. It felt strange to ride on tar-seal again. It was so smooth and so easy to cover the distance!
We
descended a bit and then climbed to another pass at 10,300+ feet,
before riding down a spectacular 8 km descent into the township of
Horca.
We
didn't dare hope that the store would still be open, but it was -- for
another 15 minutes!
Better yet, there was a restaurant right next door where we ate a huge dinner of fried chicken and "all you can eat fixin's"...the fixin's were beans, corn, and mashed potato with a white gravy. Yum! They also gave us "biscuits" (scones), and I had some peach cobbler for dessert.
Better yet, there was a restaurant right next door where we ate a huge dinner of fried chicken and "all you can eat fixin's"...the fixin's were beans, corn, and mashed potato with a white gravy. Yum! They also gave us "biscuits" (scones), and I had some peach cobbler for dessert.
We
then rode to the local campground, where we set up our tents. I saw a
hummingbird hover next to our hung-up food bags, and did a Tai Chi sword set
using a stick that was lying on the ground.
We had covered 75 km, and done around 1,400 metres (4,500 feet) of climbing.
Colorado
almost feels like a different country. The roads seem better, and the
people are much more friendly towards cyclists. It feels good to be here
at last.
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