After taking a nice rest day in Pueblo, I was ready to hit the road. I spent a little time in a bike shop getting my bottom bracket cleaned out and then spent a few hours at the Pueblo Library, so I was sure that I had maximized the relaxation potential for the day. I had the Rockies ahead of me and the ever-intensifying dread of the Nevada desert reaching a palpable level. This last leg from Colorado to California is full of the most dramatic and extreme terrains in the whole country.
Setting out from Pueblo was a bit tricky as I was forced to spend a few miles on the actual interstate highway. I always hate doing that because the shoulders are full of junk and metal slivers which reek havoc on my tires and tubes. It's also loud and stressful which makes the whole thing seem a lot more strenuous. Nevertheless, it's a necessary evil from time to time and I just accepted the negatives and looked forward to entering the mountains.
All morning long I could see the Rockies in the distance- taunting me and beckoning me with an almost sinister air of deceptive welcoming. As hard as I pedaled, the mountains never really seemed to get closer, but after a couple of hours I looked around an realized I was on the precipice. Even though I had been steadily climbing for days, I was suddenly faced with the reality of the largest and most storied mountains on the continent. No more hills.
As I pulled into Cañon City to grab some drinks, I began to prepare my mind for the coming task. I was excited to witness the scenery and simultaneously intimidated by the sheer grandeur of the mountain range. There was no turning back now.
Luckily, my route for the day was parallel to the Arkansas river. This eliminated any drastic fluctuations in elevation, but it was a steady climb from Cañon City to Salida. I covered about 2,500 feet of elevation with just a few steep climbs. I barely noticed them though due to the beauty and elegance of the Arkansas River. I had never even heard of it before the trip, but this river is absolutely stunning. It has large sections of rapids, smooth sections with little islands splitting the path, and is constantly bordered by steep sprawling hillsides and rugged, rocky cliff faces.
As tempting as it was at times, I chose not to photograph any of the scenery along this breathtaking stretch of natural slendor. Perhaps I will regret it some day in the future, but as I see it, surrouded by such powerful and majestic wonders I could do nothing to capture or convey the true profundity.
Photographing the interior of the Rockies would be like humming the finale to Beethoven's ninth symphony. In doing so, one would inescapably forfeit the emotion, the romance, and the perfection which could only be witnessed first-hand. In such a case, any artificial reproduction would be nothing short of an insult to the original. I consider the use of the word 'indescribable' to be somewhat of a cop-out, but I simply lack the vocabulary and intellect to effectively convey just how powerful it is to find myself in the midst of some of the greatest natural features on the planet. Furthermore, it feels special to know that I have only the images in my mind which can never dull or fade, but will always be subject to my imagination. The scenes I have witnessed are mine and will be for as long as my imagination lives.
After a few more hours of wonderful scenery and relatively easy riding, I arrived in Salida. Like most Spanish names in America, the locals pronounce it almost spitefully in the worst possible American phonetic imaginable. Salida beomes 'Sa-LIE-da', Buena Vista becomes 'BYOO-na Viz-da', El Dorado becomes 'El Do-RAY-do', and the list goes on. Anyway, Salida turned out to be a really nice town with a cool hostel in which I was able to stay for the night. Most of the other guests were hikers, but out here in the wilderness, we all share a mutual respect for others undertaking ridiculous and inexplicable endeavors. It was a great time sharing stories and experiences.
While in town, I tried to talk to a few locals about the famous Monarch Pass which I would be facing the following day. It's a climb to 11,312 feet and goes on for about ten miles on each side. I've heard that it's not terribly steep, but it makes up for it in length. A solid 7% climb for over ten miles.
I've dealt with far steeper grades in the Ozarks, but only for a few hundred feet at a time. Monarch Pass would be something different- something for which I have no basis for comparison. Taking into consideration the elevation, the duration, the weather, and the grade, I have a truly difficult time attempting to plan for this momentous occassion. It could be easier than I expect, it could be far more challenging... I just won't know until I'm right in the middle of it. The hype is killing me.
Today was a success. I covered 105 miles, made good time and found a place to stay. Time for a quick map session and then bed!
Location:Salida, CO
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