Day 50 – When All Else Fails, Improvise

Quite the crazy day on The Dog Cancer Ride Across America.

Actually, it all started last night. I was riding along from Alma to Hartsell, Colorado. We were having a hard time figuring out where to stay at night. But the fates were getting ready to decide that for us.

When I looked down at my phone, I noticed I had missed 11 calls – all from Ian. It seems the car had broken down (again – we think it’s a broken fuel pump this time) back in Alma, and they were stuck.

With storm clouds brewing overhead, I hitchhiked the 18 mile journey back to Alma. (Some nice guys in a pickup truck, heading towards Breckenridge, let me throw the bicycle in the back of the truck and lie down next to it as they sped their way back towards Alma – a pretty surreal way to end the day’s ride).

By time I arrived, Ian had come up with a plan. But the plan required us towing the car into Denver to find a repair shop that was open on Sunday, so we could get back on the road as quickly as possible. Realistically, I thought we’d be out of luck until Monday – which would mean losing yet another 2 days to car troubles along the Ride.

Since we were already in a pretty good place for me to ride from, we decided the best thing would be to split up for a few days. Ian, Nikki and Angie would go with the tow truck to Denver (and stay with some friends who live there) – leaving me all alone in Alma (the highest populated town in America) to rest for the night and ride on solo through the Rockies.

One more problem. I was already 2 days behind in my blogging and website updates. Missing another 3 days as I rode solo towards Colorado Springs and then Denver would be terrible. So we came up with another improvised solution. I have a large backpack that I use as a computer bag – this was about to become my travel bag for the next three days – to carry all of my clothes (and my laptop) on my back as I ride.

The next morning I mapped out my route, and realized I’d be stranded in the middle of nowhere until I hit Colorado Springs, about 90 miles away. Guess I’m riding 90 miles today.

And once you ride 90 miles – well you might as well go the extra 10 miles to make it an official 100 mile “Century” Ride – oh well, Guess I’m riding 100 miles today.

The good news was, geography was on my side. They have an expression in Alma – they say “it’s all downhill from from here” – and they mean it. Alma is situated TEN thousand, 500 feet above sea level – while Colorado Springs is at FIVE thousand, 500 feet. A 5,000 foot drop – this could be the Easiest Century Ever.

So I got on my bike and headed off – excited about my easy breezy coasting 100 mile day. (Yeah right.)

Early in the ride, I realized just how big and bulky the computer in my backpack was – dragging heavily on my shoulders. So I stopped at the local Ace Hardware, bought a 12 foot roll of Velcro to create some improvised straps – and spent the next 1/2 hour Velcro-ing my backpack to my body. It looked a bit odd, but it worked surprisingly well.

The ride itself was beautiful – rolling canyons surrounded massive Colorado Rocky mountains. But I soon discovered that this ride wasn’t going to be as downhill as I thought. Yes, there really was a 5,000 foot altitude drop between Alma and Colorado Springs – but most of that drop happens in the last 10 miles into town. The middle 60 miles would take me up and down some long slow mountain passes. Seems the Easiest Century Ever, wasn’t going to be that easy after all.

Or as fast. At the start of the day I’d calculated the timing for the ride – and at a brisk pace along gently descending roads I’d knew I could make Colorado Springs and my Easiest Century Ever, right around sunset with plenty of time to spare. But the hills had another idea about my timing – and as I approached the top of the final hill, 15 miles outside of Colorado Springs, the sun was starting to set over the horizon. Leaving me no choice but to ride the rest of the way into Colorado Springs (plus the extra 12 miles to complete my Century and make it to my hotel) in the dark.

When I finally arrived at my hotel (about 2 hours later) – late at night and in the dark, I was exhausted (and a bit numb) – but felt good about my 100 mile journey into Colorado Springs (with a 30 pound backpack on my back. And hit the bed for some much needed rest and to get ready to complete my 70 mile journey into Denver, Colorado the next day.

From Colorado Springs, Colorado – an exhausted and sore Dog Cancer Rider Across America – this is Ted Schneck saying good night, and I’ll see you down the road…

Bye for now.