I woke up to a very wet campsite with very wet clothes. It was cold. It was not raining, but it had rained during the night. I hung my wet riding clothes from the previous day in a tree and tried to get ready, I had set an alarm so that I could get an early start. I had half of a two-man dinner the night before and had the cold leftovers for breakfast. At least I had a cup of coffee. It's slow to put away a wet camp, but I got packed and moving. The previous day's happiness with the mellow gradient was immediately opposed by a straight up hike-a-bike, immediately. It's funny, the Colorado trail builders just route straight up. This old road got me to where I camped, but the Colorado Trail needed to gain the high point of the ridgeline and so, straight up. You could tell that the water had just scoured the heck out of that section, there were no cuts for drainage, I was just rocks and roots and mud. After that hard push I got to another mellow road. This pattern repeated once more, but the rest of 18 turned out to be a very delightful ride with mostly mellow gradients through beautiful sagebrush country. There was not a lot of water and I did get to a crossing of a creek that blocked the entire roadway. There were cows upstream, and it was obvious that trucks had gone through, and I was a snob and did not filter there, and almost regretted it. 18 was very picturesque, like something out of a western movie, in fact I saw an old cabin in a valley and it reminded me so much of the Tom Waits scene in The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, about Mr. Pocket that I decided that that was Mr., Pocket's cabin. The views were immense, and broad, and beautiful. When 18 finally dumped me out on a road, I felt like I was in the middle of nowhere. The road looked dry and remote and forbidding, the country looked dry, I somehow had to get on that road, through the La Garita wilderness bypass to the cathedral Ranch cabins. I was low on water, because I had not filtered at the last road crossing on 18. I knew there were some lakes ahead. I followed the GPS track from bikepacking.com. It was helpful. I saw a bikepacker coming toward me in the distance, Todd from Durango. We briefly spoke, about bears and water and routes. I got some water at Mound lakes and spread out my wet clothes to dry in the sun while I was filtering. I had some of the wet clothes on my front pack, drying in the sun. There were some cool old telegraph poles with wire still on them on the side of the road. The La Garita bypass is on dirt roads that very few people use. It's remote. There are some picturesque ranches, but a lot of empty roadway. I knew that I had to climb for a long time to Los Pinos Pass, then descend to Cathedral Ranch, 31 miles in. This was after about 12 miles of segment 18. The air was thin, I was still no faster than before, but feeling okay, so I put it in a reasonable gear and just ground it out. I kept thinking I was near the top of Los Pinos Pass, not checking my electronic devices carefully, wasting energy thinking I was almost there. Finally I crossed the top and descended into a beautiful valley, just gorgeous. I thought the Cathedral Ranch Cabins were at the bottom of this descent, but in fact I had another five or six miles of up and down to grind through. I finally descended to an intersection with a road, 592 I think, and there at the intersection was a sign for Cathedral Ranch Cabins, Bike Packer Resupply. It said 1 mi. I went up this driveway, off course past the first property with the name Cadwell on it, to a second property. As I rolled up, a woman came out and she knew who I was, Mark had called to confirm the box was there and that he would not be making it. She was very kind, Annette. I soon met her husband Brad. It was a really delightful little place; their home, some ranch buildings, and then these cabins. There was an old canning cellar built into the side of the hill. Three friendly cattle dogs. She immediately asked what I needed first and got me some food in her little store, I started a tally on a sheet of paper. I saw on the check-in that Mike, Shan, Sam had been there and gone, she told me about them. Apparently Mike and Sam sheltered in the same hail storm I did somewhere on the bypass, while Shan rode past and got there first, not knowing how. They didn't spend the night, they just resupplied and continued. She confirmed that I had a trailer reservation that Mark had made, a trailer that had electricity and propane, but no water, I don't think it had a sewer connection either. But it was a bed! And there was Wi-Fi! And there was a biker lounge with a kitchen and shower and washing machines and a selection of clean clothes I could wear while all my clothes were in the washer and dryer, I could charge my phone. It was amazing. I bought some ridiculous and less ridiculous things at Annette's bikepacker store, got the resupply box that was impossibly heavy, drank a Coke, ate a microwave chimichanga, started to feel like a human, chatted with Brad and Annette some more, took a shower, put my clothes in the washer, put my tent on the clothesline by their house to dry with their blessing. I dried some clothes and hung the non-dryer clothes on their clothesline in the warm sun. It's just a beautiful spot, I'm glad I got to visit. They were very attentive, made sure I was okay. Some other guests arrived, they had a lot of side-by-side, four wheeler cabin guests. I was the only bike packer. I got on the internet, told stories, posted pictures, caught up with people, most important was the time talking with my family. I had a phone call with Lauren, she had finished helping Sam move into his new place and was driving but had a little bit of time to talk to me. It made me feel good. I was clean, in clean clothes, and made myself a rehydrated dinner in the trailer, got ready for bed and an early wake up. Set my alarm for 5:00 a.m.
Comments
Post a Comment