Under an iron gray sky I rode in to work this morning. Despite the overcast skies I longed to be in the midst of a long bike tour. Amongst other things.
I pondered my impending doom in Leadville, decided its time to borrow the h-bar from the Cannonball for The One, and daydreamed about being 22 again and winning a stage of Le Tour.
coming soon: we'll be headed west to camp and see some more of the state and most likely a new state ("Maybe Utah"). Of course we're taking the mountaining bikes. The plan is to sample some of the trails in Fruita. We might have to make a fall trip to check out Moab when it's cooler.
Though, after further research its looking like we may be mountain cycling around Buckeye Reservoir and/or perhaps bagging Mount Peale over the border in the La Sal Mountains while Fruita may fall by the wayside.
Regardless of what we end up doing I think we're going to want to make a trip back west. Too much to do, too little time.
In the meantime I'll be dodging raindrops for a day or two, and there won't be much prairie biking goin' on.
After my 70 mile ride Saturday I've felt pretty good. In fact, today I feel great. Kingston Peak is out there taunting me, 40 miles away and 6,700 feet higher than my house. I'll do it unsupported, though I'm not sure the next training iteration, Rollins Pass, should be attempted solo. There are commercial support opportunities along the way, at least in theory, but it's a long, lonely 106 miles there and back again.
My current schemes are an order of magnitude greater than my long ago climbing adventure up the Little East Fork of Indian Creek of Red River (Kentucky) to do a 50ft rock climb. I biked four miles, hiked a mile, rope-soloed the climb and then returned.
I daydreamed along the way of doing things like I'm planning and executing these days. It's amazing to be realizing your most ambitious daydreams.
So one day I'll be realizing the daydreams I had as I climbed up Squaw Mountain on Saturday? Sweet!