This morning we managed to depart within 90 minutes of waking up... though it’s a lot quicker to pack up when you don’t have to break down a tent, cook your breakfast on the little stove etc. We hung out with our host for a while, discussing his dog (rescued from a neglect situation) and what it’s like being the only gay couple in a Trumpy area (coexisting.... they get along with their neighbors; they said a lot of people relocate to this area to disappear from their previous lives, including felons, so there’s a live and let live sort of attitude).
We had heard from Amanda (from Desert RATS blog) that BV was one of her favorite towns in Colorado, so we cycled around a bit before leaving town. I think she must have meant for the mountain access, because even putting aside the long highway strip mall, this town didn’t seem all that interesting. As usual we stopped at a realtor to do some window shopping — does everyone do this while traveling? It’s part of the escapist fantasy for us, what would it be like to live here, what kind of house could we afford etc. (As an aside this was a frustrating exercise in Aspen where a cute little bungalow costs several million.) The realtor on duty came out and Bill had a long exchange with her about the market, water rights in the surrounding areas (not too far out of these towns you get lots of houses off the grid, along rivers)... I kind of zoned out the details though I was the only one who noticed her fly was down. I didn’t tell her.
We hit the highway a bit after ten, and the clouds were low so I didn’t get to see many of the college-themed 14ers in the area — Mt. Harvard, Princeton, Columbia etc. Since we were now headed for Monarch Pass rather than Cottonwood, we had an extra 20-ish miles on the highway.
A day or so ago the bassoon prof at a school in Colorado got killed while cycling. A truck side-swiped him. Driver not being charged, and it’s easy to see how this could happen. I remember early on (i.e. 14 years ago) noticing that Bill would slow down or even pull over to a complete stop when a truck passed, while I didn’t like to give up the momentum. I’ve gradually adopted this habit, and I can’t stop thinking about that bassoonist. Rear-view mirror helps a lot to know what’s coming up on you.
Thinking about trucks and fatal bike accidents. Also noticing the beauty of these yellow flowers that are everywhere. If I’m gonna go soon, I don’t want to miss these.
Can’t see mountains, but can see local politics. Vote Jeff for Coroner!
... or his opponent, Slavish! I would really like to see these people’s campaign ads.
When we got to the junction for Monarch Pass, Bill pulled off onto a frontage road. I wondered if he was heading toward the Thai restaurant in view, but he was just trying to take a shortcut. The shortcut didn’t go through but it did bring us to the Information Center so we stopped in. The guy working there suggested we might be happier on a different pass, Marshall, which was unpaved but would have WAY less traffic than Monarch. Sounds good to me.
People are sometimes interested in how we plan our trips. This is us changing plans midstream... we didn’t have detailed maps so I just took a series of photos at the info center of our new route.
There were quite a few roadie cyclists at that info center, setting off on yet another pass whose name I’ve forgotten. They were headed beyond the intersection below: this is where we turned onto the dirt road.
Bill waiting to make sure I don’t miss the turn
Within about a quarter mile I rode over a nail but I was super grateful it happened here and not on the highway, and look at this lovely weather! What happened to that ominous forecast?
The road to the Marshall pass was once a railroad, so it was a nice gentle grade. Info Center Guy had told us we’d find a campground at O’Haver Lake, around ten miles from the summit.
This greeted us at O’Haver Lake Campground and I was offended. It was a bit cool, and late in the day, for hammocking, but what if I want to do laundry or hang my food?
In my down jacket patching my tube.
We met some cool people at the next campsite when we brought up the topic of bears — if we can’t hang our food on rope what are we supposed to do? The point was to get them to offer to store our food in the car, which they did. Later in the evening they invited us over for some vodka and cranberry juice. Two nights camping, two offers of free booze. “Good things happen when you ride a bicycle.” (A classic Bill quote.) Next morning they made us coffee. They were really cute; she kept referring to his “engineer” qualities, meaning he over-plans everything. He’d clearly done a serious shopping spree at REI. Among other things they had three sets of cups for different sorts of beverages, so he literally brought us cups of steaming coffee and saved us from our horrible Starbucks Via. (I think the smartest thing is to lose the addiction pre-travel, but it’s nice to have something warm and sweet in the morning.)
Camp packed, back onto Marshall pass — this is the view back to our campground. I looked up Larry Leroy but never found much about him.
Up up up... a nice clear day!
At the top.
During the ascent, instead of worrying about trucks I worried about the descent, i.e. whether I’d be able to stay upright. I had two slo-mo wipeouts, including this flat/uphill section. I should have stayed to the right like Bill did. It’s the loose gravel that gets you.
Other than some guys working on the natural gas pipeline that goes through here we didn’t see anybody for hours. It’s amazing how much remote wilderness there is in this part of the country.
At the end of the very long descent we rejoined the highway, and found a delicious lunch spot in Sargents. This is from the same brewery we’d visited in Buena Vista.
Once off the pass we were riding straight into headwind, and weren’t sure how far we’d get. We were hoping for Gunniston.
The landscape reminded me more of Wyoming than Colorado. These isolated homes fascinate me... even moreso when surrounded by dozens of dead automobiles. Bill thought maybe people hold onto them for parts, and other people in the area know this is the place to go?
Another. Definitely a walk-score of zero for this address.
The place in Sargent where I drank that Crank Yanker had camping but we wanted more miles. The nice people there made some calls to find out what options we’d have in case we couldn’t make it to Gunniston. They only found one place, and when we got there the place looked less than ideal. We’d have been camping right up against the highway. Luckily I’m rude and stuck my head in one of the cabins where the door was open. The guest in there not only didn’t mind the trespassing but offered to drive us the remaining 17 miles to Gunniston. This would keep us just one day behind schedule, so pride be damned. Into the truck we went.
Piling our bikes into Nice Man’s pickup.
He dropped us at a supermarket where we stocked up for a couple days. We then hit a dispensary (this IS Colorado after all)... and rode a few more miles to an RV park on the outskirts of town.
I kind of loved this place. Look at all the activities! People live here all summer.
![Another advantage of roadside RV park over wilderness campgrounds: Tiny [sic] bathroooms with running water! And showers! Not to mention electricity for charging your iPhone.](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5ab95d7036099be814392e4a/1535557227550-LDI81K8ZYLHSXJ83DQWG/FullSizeRender.jpg)
Another advantage of roadside RV park over wilderness campgrounds: Tiny [sic] bathroooms with running water! And showers! Not to mention electricity for charging your iPhone.
Continuing our fantasies: this tiny home for sale was parked at the RV Park. Would be easier to travel with the dog and cats if we had this.
Look below for link to next installment!