So Rawlins is now a 130 miles behind me and three days ride. Well sort of 3 days ride. After leaving Rawlins (I have since heard it called the armpit of Wyoming, honestly it ain't that bad) and getting back into the desert, myself and Maarten found ourselves battling some true Wyoming headwinds. We thought we had come across this infamous obstacle in the basin already. Hell no! These gale force beauties were just pushing us backwards up hills. After a desultory fifteen miles myself and Maarten just looked at each other and said 'f#+$ it'. We ended up camping at a place called Teton reservoir sitting out the afternoon.
We did bump into an Aussie along the way though. Cam is hiking the continental divide trail. I was a little astonished to find he is hiking some long old days of 40 miles. I was even more amazed to hear that he is going to be walking 15,000 miles within eighteen months, and he has already done 11,000. No wonder he looked so skinny. When he finishes in October he is straight off to do the Appalachian trail. Good luck to him.
The campsite we stayed at will I think forever be in my mind the Mad Max campsite. It sat overlooking the reservoir and nothing but desolate desert. The wind just howled through all day, to the point where it was a kind of torture to the ears and the soul. Although our pitch did come with free ammunition for some mad max style adventures. You can see in the pictures that not only did I find more empty impressive 12 gauge shotgun shells (ironically down by the no shooting sign on the lake) but live .22 rounds under our campsite table.
I also went for a swim in the reservoir. Probably my last lake swim as the temperatures are starting to drop. It was nothing like swimming in the balmy waters of loon lake in Canada, and with the wind, more like swimming in the sea with waves being slapped in your face. Still better than going to Butlins I reckon though.
Eventually in the evening the wind did die down, and myself and Maarten hatched a cunning plan Baldrick would have been proud of. The idea was to get up at six before the wind, which usually picks up some time before lunch, got going. Especially as it was forecast to be even stronger. Well I crawled out of my tent and all was going well. For five minutes. Then the wind showed up. I swear I could hear laughter in its howling.
Well holy cow man, what a slog that day was. I at least fared a little better than Maarten who had had virtually no sleep with his tent flapping in the wind most of the night. Anyway we kept going, including one six mile exposed climb and several short nasty ones with the winds constant heckling. But eventually the landscape began to change. It sounds like a daft thing to say but I can't tell you how happy I was to see trees. The cover they give you from the wind is so precious, and to see stands of beautiful aspen coming into view is just so uplifting.
And it also meant we were nearing Colorado. We passed through the sublime aspen alley, a road lined with 30 foot aspens on either side, and found a place to camp. The wonderful thing about the aspens currently is their change of hue to coats of vibrant oranges and golds. It's also a stark reminder though that the snow will be coming and I have to keep moving.
So we had planned to reach Steamboat Springs in 3 days. Well we thought that had been scuppered by our non-existent fifteen mile day. Not so. Yesterday we absolutely stormed 72 miles to get here. That included twenty miles plus of on off climbing, and some absolute downpours requiring full waterproofs for the first time. But we were men on a mission. With the reward of a beer and a rest day on offer (my first day off since Whitefish maybe a thousand miles ago), we pulled into town by five. Result!
And I would like to give a special thanks to Nettie. This good old gal was running the mercantile at the top of the climb into Columbine. Well this place sold ice cream and soda but was really more of a gift shop than a grocery store. But Nettie managed to fish out a couple of tins of chili for us and warm them up in a microwave. Awesome lunch.
This powered us down the hill to Clark's store about twenty miles from steamboat. I popped in there to grab a quick Gatorade, and who did I bump into, Cam. Jeez can that boy walk! I also met Jeff, another divide rider. I instantly noticed that Jeff is choosing to ride this route wearing flip flops. I feel like such a wimp now with my proper cleated bike shoes. I swear there are nutters all over the place out here. Anyway we had dinner with Jeff last night, great guy, and some of his stories about where he has decided to sleep after riding on until midnight had me howling with laughter, if feeling a bit soft for having the temerity to use proper campsites.
So now I find myself in a cosy room (thanks Nordic lodge, I recommend you, your friendly staff, your pool, your hot tub, and your non ski town rates) in Steamboat which seems an awesome little town. And joy of joy a day off to go do things like maybe have a dip at the hot springs. But also a few revelations have hit me. Without getting too deep though, I realised I am now over halfway with more than 1500 miles done on route. Wow! How did that happen. Some people are still asking me what it is I'm doing. Well there is as film out there I didn't know about before I started called ride the divide, which is a documentary of the race. Check out the trailer. So to those who are asking for more info, it's this...just a lot slower with more beer.
Right I think I hear the hot springs calling!
Photos: check out the the pic of three forks ranch we went past. The place was Damn huge. We rode four miles just past one entrance to another. #iwanttolivethere
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