It's just a little past 8 pm and we've already emphatically zipped ourselves into the tent for the night. Let's make this entry short and snappy; I've got some Huck Finn reading to do (after finishing "War and Peace", I snatched this up from a Gunnison bookstore because a) it was cheap b) it was ultralite and c) I know I that I SHOULD read this classic but will never get around to it unless I'm trapped with it on a bike tour. It's like prisoners making friends with rats in the Bastille. Except not quite as unsavory.)
By 6:30 this morning the impatient sun had risen high above the hills surrounding our Mesa Verde campsite. Vacationing families bustled about making lots of noise, but I refused to lift my head from my rock hard "pillow" (a bag with clothes fastidiously rolled up inside) for another hour. An adolescence spent sleeping in despite the auditory onslaughts of intruding younger siblings has hardened me into a champion sleeper-inner.
After packing up and casting a farewell glance over the beautiful mesas, we cruised luxuriously downhill to the applause of spectacular mountain views. We rode westward over broad plains until we reached Cortez, then
we abruptly turned north and east. Cortez marks the southwesternmost point of our travels this summer.
I was relieved to bend back north/ The farther we ventured towards New Mexico and Utah, the hotter it became and I can't help but imagine the scorched wasteland that would await us should we have followed through on our original plan to end in Albuquerque. You could come looking for our blanched bones lying in a ditch by the side of the road in a few months.
We stopped in the small town of Dolores for groceries and to take advantage of all of the library's amenities, save the most obvious one of actually borrowing books. Libraries are on par with Safeway for the benefits they offer to the touring cyclist: internet, water, bathrooms, shade, air conditioning, comfy chairs, picnic tables. And no one gives you the stink eye if you've been there for 2 hours and haven't spent a dime!
The road out of town followed the Dolores river up into the hills. We're almost tracing our tracks back to Ouray, but this time we're on another side of the San Juan range.
After cycling about 60 miles, I was feeling ready to find a place to land for the night. The perfect haven presented itself in the form of a grassy knoll surrounded by high bushes beside the Dolores river. This is once again National Forest land and free camping options abound.
We feasted on refried bean, tomato, lettuce, and cheese burritos. I had a food epiphany the other day and realized that we could easily carry these ingredients with us until needed for dinner. While the after-effects may not make one the best of tent companions, it's certainly the tastiest and most all-around satisfying meal we've made on the trip.
Mesa verde... remember walking on those walkways as a kid frightful of how precarious the infinite drop to the side was. Fascinating place.
ReplyDelete"While the after-effects may not make one the best of tent companions"
Such lyrical prose.