The Muttering Mountains' Mesmerizing Magic

This is why this is a blog.

After spending too much time in the library yesterday, I looked for a good meal and stumbled upon a little place called "The Stage Stop". I went inside and opted for the frugal path;  asking for the $2.50 bagel and cream cheese. 

"Sorry sir, we don't have cream cheese."

"Hmm, the breakfast burrito then."

"Sorry sir, we don't have anymore of those..."

"Alright, I'll just get the bagel with butter."

5 minutes later.

"Sir, I'm really sorry but this bagel is all jacked up... Listen, you can have anything you want from the menu and it's free of charge, on me."

"Dude, really? Are you sure?"

Suddenly, I was incredibly excited to put together a complicated and delicious wrap. I got the kid's name, which was  Smokey (only in the Rockies right?). Oh My God, if that wasn't the most delicious wrap I'd ever had than God smite me right now. Afterward, I gave the kind, young man a pat on the back and a heartfelt thank you. 

I felt replenished and ready to continue on the winding and windy road through the rest of the Rockies. Well, I thought so anyhow. After going back and forth through the town literally 4-5 times, I finally found the hidden 69 North. It took me directly into a 25 mph headwind. I cursed, screamed, and eventually succumbed to the invisible rival who attempted to ruin my downhill. I would have just stayed in one place if I didn't pedal because the downhill was that small and the wind was that strong. 

I didn't actually end up going back into the mountains, instead running parallel to them. Still, after reaching the town of Cotopaxi and getting a small can of oranges for dinner; the uphill started up again. This uphill would continue until the eventual climax of Monarch Pass (elev. 11,900 ft.). Slowly but surely, the road would go higher and higher. 

As rain began coming down a few miles before the town of Howard, I decided to call it a day and see some camping prices. Stopping at a place called, "Big Horn RV Park", I met the friendliest man by the name of Doug. He was constantly smiling and laughing heartily. I talked about my trip, why I was doing it, ect. As a matter of fact, now that I recall, I think I was babbling. Any-who, this guy Doug doesn't even try to get me to sleep at their place. He immediately started telling me of cheaper selections, even free camping down the road.

"Yeah, there's a place called Vallie Bridge about a mile down the road. The staff heads out around 5 or so and they usually don't come back until 9 or 10 in the morning. You could be long gone by then... but you didn't hear it from me."

Bingo. My man Doug. 

I waited out the rain there for a few minutes, which would grant me the pleasure of meeting the other owner; Jules. She was a rapid-fire, quick-witted older woman with short silver hair. Upon stepping into the room, she said, "Are you the biker without a helmet? You oughta be wearing a big S on your forehead."

"Yeah, for stupid, I know. It's not smart."

I enjoyed the friendly banter and poking from Jules. As I shook Doug's hand and started opening the door, he said, "Jules is right though buddy, you should be wearing a helmet."

I peered back one last time and replied, "But that wouldn't be any fun, Doug."

The last thing I heard as I shut the door was a hearty laugh from Doug and his response, "You're right".

(Sorry mom and dad)

Down the road, I pulled into Vallie Ridge where "Operation Free Camping" went into effect. I faked one of the camping passes and placed it on my stolen site. I got my first meditation in with people and distractions all around, which I hope is a testament to a stronger mind. Around 9 o'clock, I passed out.

An alarm for 6 o'clock woke me up this morning and I moved quickly to avoid possible staffers getting a head-start on the day. The view of the mountains with the sun coming up was absolutely breathtaking. It looked as if someone had painted the Rockies into the skyline, dabbing the canvas with the scenery no more than 100 yards in front of me. I was in awe. 

I took a bike route that ran parallel to the  busy Highway 50 all the way to Salida, CO. With a population of 5,000, I planned on getting a big breakfast before making my way upward. 

As I finished my breakfast at the packed "Patio Pancake Place", I went outside to blog and charge my phone. As I was doing so, the lovely young lady who kindly filled up my two water containers, plopped down beside me.

Sarah was 21 years old, and a recent resident of Salida, Co, moving from Kansas City. This charming gal was an absolute angel. She shared a small fruit bowl with me for her break and we chatted as if we were old friends. I couldn't stop gushing about the beautiful geography surrounding the small town and she related, stating how it's what makes this town shine. 

As soon as Sarah had stepped into my life, she was gone. And I'm on the move once again. However, Salida provided some warmth to an old, lonesome soul on the road. 

Today, it's Monarch Pass. Perhaps... it's always been Monarch Pass. 

 

Leaving Westcliffe with the mountains running parallel to my trip.

On the map, the town of Hillside appeared to be just that. However, the place had one house, and one post-office. Hopes of getting a pick me up were dashed but... probably for the better.

One of the bigger downhills after Westcliffe, where the mountains kind of jumped out at me after a bend.

     Ahhh, this morning's canvas.

       A few miles out of Salida.