Slacking behind! That's why I'm taking a day of in the beautiful city of Lander, a little oasis in the plain, desolate, empty wilderness that is Wyoming. It also means parting from the bike gang though. Our number has swollen to 7 now, after we picked up Philip, Canadian, who is doing the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route but decided to trade gravel and solitude for hanging out on asphalt and with us for a couple of days plus a Belgian couple from Brussels that has been cycling the States for 8 months now! To quote Jacob "Can we get leather jackets already?!", very true. But too much for me to take. I feel I long for solitude. But let me first go back to Colorado after my tourist-days when I still thought I was adventuring the Rockies on my own.
Rockies day 1. So I guess I have, or at least I had, a different definition of 'gradual climbing'. Pedaling from 5500 to 9404 feet, gradual climbing, I don't think so. And why not inaugurate me in the full mountain package by throwing in some mountain weather. I guess I forgot how unpredictable and shifty it can be. Enjoying a bright blue sky, you don't realize a pitch black curtain is creeping up on you from behind. So I raced uphill, or let's say I gave it my best shot. The tricky thing about high plains in the mountains is not only shifty weather conditions but nowhere, and I literally mean NOwhere, to shelter. Anyways, survived that one as well.
And man, does it feel good to be back on the road! I enjoy the wild horses, tiny squirrels that live in holes in the ground, the sight of snow capped mountains all around me, deer and bison that from a far of distance do look hauntingly lot like bears. My head is spinning. Being by myself again, this is the first time in the past 2 months, since the beginning of my trip, I feel something close to vulnerable, in this majestic, beautiful, all -overruling mountain range. But I am a warrior, a survivor and I do feel privileged to cycle through these mountains. And it's not a fight. I'm just a humble passenger, granted the favor to admire and experience this spot of spelling beauty.
With mountains come some high altitude camping. I did it onion-style (me in my liner in the duck-down sleeping back wrapped in the thin-summer sleeping bag). Listening to an over-passing T-storm giving its best on the tent sail, I wish this moment could last forever.
And then there was the inevitable: climbing Hoosier Pass, 11 596 feet and the highest point of the whole trip. This day turned out to be a century for me (100 miles) and a very weird coincidental reunion of the four of us (Lauren, Zach, Jacob and I) on the top of the pass. It was almost magical. Being dropped off in three different groups, in three different days in three different spots, we managed to all end up together again. And although I looked forward to take off on my own once more, I was euphoric to see them popping up the pass. We are a happy, silly gang, each of us adding its own specific color to the group, They are friends for life, I realized there and then, 11 593 feet high.
After intense climbing, a very nice, leisurely descend brought us through Alp-like little ski-towns, passing beautiful mountain-lakes AND bike paths! I celebrated my century ride with a bottle of wine and a rather depressing camping spot behind Kremmlings' local grocery store under another threatening stormy-sky. With my friends. Life is awesome.
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