Last night’s dinner was trail mix and water. Yep, my lunch was so filling I couldn’t eat much of anything else. I must drink about a gallon of water every night. Very little of it sees the light of day.
I rode through Pueblo to get on the Adventure Cycling route but the digital map app I bought to guide me was useless.
I ended up with a tour of Pueblo’s middle class neighborhoods. I passed many arts and crafts bungalows and other styles of one-story houses. Once you get away from the highways, Pueblo’s not half bad.
I gave up on the Adventure Cycling app and switched to Google maps. I was going great until it led me to a 4.5 mile dirt road. I backtracked and got on the main road, having gone about five miles in circles between the two apps. Give me paper maps any day!
Highway 96, which I have been on for a week or so, goes straight to Wetmore where my Warmshowers hosts live. In the process I gained 1,400 feet of elevation to about 6,100 feet in 30 miles. Of course, that includes riding over a ridge east of town that must have been more like 6,400 feet. The climb up was a 9% grade. I gave up about half way. The driver of a pick up stopped, backed up 100 yards, and asked me if I’d like a lift to the top. I stubbornly and stupidly said no and pushed The Mule on foot all the way to the top. I did this climb easily in 2019 so today’s hike-a-bike was very disappointing.
The ride down the ridge was fun. When I got to Wetmore I pulled out my phone to get the address of my hosts only to find that my phone had overheated and shut down.
There are only 3 streets in Wetmore. I tried the first but a local resident told me it could not have been his street. I rode to the Post Office on the next street but the Postmaster was new and couldn’t help me. Next I talked to a couple of women who were chatting a few houses away. They immediately knew which house I was looking for.
It as the first house that I passed.
Arriving at the house, I was greeted by barking dogs on both sides of the street. I figured they would alert my hosts to my presence but no one came to the door, so I helped myself to some water from the canteen on the porch (as they had advised me to do). After a few minutes Johnny came out. 6 foot 2, shaved head, fit, long sleeved technical shirt with a hood, leather kilt, and lace up boots that covered his calves. And, as it turned out, as pleasant a man as you’d want to meet.
I knew I was unlikely to stay because Johnny’s wife Kristin messaged me last night with the news that their daughter had tested positive for Covid yesterday. Still Johnny and I had a pleasant chat. He let me use his phone to book a room in a motel near Florence.
I had heard that there was a 1,000 foot climb between Wetmore and Florence. Johnny explained that the climb was southward. I was heading north.
He’s a bike commuter. He once fashioned a bike with two chain rings and one cog. He’d use the big chain ring to ride downhill to work in Florence and the small one to ride back home.
With the imposing Hardscrabble Mountains to my left and the ridge I earlier had walked up to my right, I cruised ten miles downhill to my hotel.
This county is home to ten prisons, three of which are next to my motel. One of them is the federal SuperMax prison. It’s occupants include the World Trade Center truck bomber, the Boston Marathon bomber, the shoe bomber, the underpants bomber, the Unabomber, numerous murderous Mafiosi and drug dealers, and Robert Hanssen, an FBI agent turned Russian spy. Before he died, the father of Woody Harrelson was imprisoned here. He was a hit man who killed a federal judge among others.
After checking in and dropping my bags, I phoned home to wish Mrs. Rootchopper a happy 34th anniversary.
Next I rode a half mile downhill to a fast food burger place for lunch. The burger and fries were medium but to me they seemed huge. I also drank about a half gallon of soda. They lost money on me.
I confirmed that I can stay in the city park tomorrow. It has early morning sprinklers but I’ll think of some way to make it work.
The convenience store next to the burger place is called the Loaf and Jug. They did not have any loaves but, incongruously, they had junk food from Cumberland Farms, a New England dairy.
I bought some junk food and a huge can of Australian liquid bread and rode back to the motel.
Miles today: 48. Tour miles: 1,275
Today marks three weeks of the tour