Tour Divide. More Than a Silly Bike Race. pt III Sawtelle Resort to Kremmling, CO

As I was leaving the Sawtelle Resort, I knew I was nearing the famed ID rail trail, and its sandy washboard. The weather was beautiful, but the trail was everything I hoped it wouldn't be. A few miles down it I cam across a moose cow and calf.  Not wanting to put myself any closer to a potentially dangerous situation, I stopped and made as much noise as possible until they finally decided to go on there way, so I could continue on mine. Mile after mile I continued to swerve around to try and reduce the impact of the washboard on my wrists and butt. Not too long later (In the scheme of the day) the trail improved to a gravel/ sandy mix that was flatter and faster. I was excited to get to the tunnel, since I enjoyed riding trough the train tunnels so much in Wisconsin last year. I was disapointed to find the tunnel fenced off and a re-route around the outside. When the trail ended I was on a bit of pavement, and into WY. Seeing the Tetons both from a distance, and as I was going through them, was incredible. Similar in appearance, to the Canadian rockies, the vast shear rock faces are absolutely incredible, and their reflections off of Jackson Lake where amazingly clear. This was another point I wanted to be able to stop and enjoy the scenery for a bit longer, although the droves of tourists where beginning to annoy me already, and I hadn't stopped for more than a bathroom break. The bit of pavement I was on allowed for some quick miles, and a nice change of pace from the morning. I also had a considerable bit of climbing ahead of me to clear Togwotee Pass, which was about 50/50 dirt and pavement to the top, and an all dirt alternate route from the top, which had a bit more snow and hike-a-bike, but the incredible weather and scenery made it bearable and still quite enjoyable. A few move paved miles brought me to the bottom of Union Pass, where i grabbed a quick snack and had a chat with a guy in a pickup who didn't think it would be possible to ride the pass on a bike....he doesn't know what we've been through. A long steep climb got me about 3/4 the way up Union Pass to Crooker Creek Lodge for the night where I shared a cabin with another rider.  
The next morning I was early to rise (at least by my standards) and off to finish Union Pass. The sun was rising just as I go to the top, and the ground was still frozen. There were a few patches of snow, but given the cold temps, it was like walking on solid ground, and parts were even rideable! The descent on the other side of the pass was a great one. My chain had been through the ringer on the ealry part of the trip, so I was excited to be on my way to the Pinedale Hardware Store and Bike Shop to get a new chain. My chain rings where severely worn as well, but there was no hope of replacing them here. A good breakfast and resupply later, and I was pedaling towards Atlantic City, no not New Jersey....WY. The road to AC was wide, smooth, and rolly. The tail winds were incredible, and they made the ride a blast. Over the rollers and small hills I was able to maintain and incredible moving speed, often maxing out my gearing options, and frequently climbing at about 20mph and cruising at 30-40 on flats and descents. Those few hours were amazing, only to be crushed by the same winds in reverse on a small highway connection for just a few miles before South Pass City, and eventually Atlantic City. The rain storms rolling in simulationausly did not help moral much either. Atlantic City was a tiny little town, and the bar was about to close down. The owner was extremely accommodating and made up some ham and cheese sandwiches for dinner and to-go for the next days food supply through the Basin. Through small town connections Geoff landed some great accommodation in a small apartment for rent that night, and Lorenzo and I bummed a shower and roof for the night.

The Basin. Not much happens there. The Basin is a geographical point of interest in that any precipitation that falls in the Basin is either absorbed or evaporated, it does not drain to anywhere but within itself. That said, it doesn't rain much there. In fact, I'm pretty sure Sage brush is the only thing, other than a few idiotic bikers, that inhabits the basin. I kept picturing a meeting amongst rattle snakes and other desert dwelling creatures having a meeting, and deciding "Well it sucks here, let's leave." I suppose the Basin experience could've been much worse, the cross winds COULD have been headwinds. Getting to paved Mineral X road felt like a celebratory event at the time, but I was quick to discover a road so flat and boring I needed a map to discover I was actually making a ~30 mile long sweeping left hand turn. The expansion joints frequent "thud thud" on the tires certainly was annoying, but it may have actually helped keep me awake.  Continueing on out of the basin, next stop, Rawlins. A quick resupply and than a good warm meal with Geoff, Walter, and Lorenzo, we all planned on pushing father (It was only about 5 PM) especially with the construction zone about 30 miles south and only passable during non-working hours. The climb up Monument Hill should not have been so bad, but between the wind and the grade, it felt like we were in Turtle Races, climbing at about 3-4mph for longer than I would have liked. Soon after the climb, it was getting dark, and we decided to camp out just beyond the active work zone, behind a pile of rocks. The adventuresome me is a bit ashamed to admit this was my first night in a tent for the entire trip, but with the constant wet weather and cold temps, the competitive me was, and still is, OK with my logistic decision. I slept really well that night, and I really do like my little tent! We began moving at about 4AM, little did I know I was starting the longest day (time wise) of the trip. We were about 60 or 70 miles short of Brush Mountain Lodge, a famed must-stop resort in the middle of no-where. Before Brush Mountain, that morning we also crossed the CO border and rode though Aspen Alley, a beautiful hallway of dirt road lined with perfect mature Aspen trees. Unfortuneatly my piece of garbage camera had a dead battery...again. Upon arrival at brush mountain, the place appeared to be still sleeping. I had enough food to push on, but just as I was about to continue south Kirsten came around the corner. Another wonderful person with fantastic TD rider accommodation, I am glad we got to meet. I charged my phone and camera while I ate a delicious breakfast or 3. Still feeling recharged and energetic on my back-swing from Ovando, I eagerly continued forward from Brush Mountain, just at Geoff and Lorenzo touched down for a meal. I was Steamboat, CO bound with a cassette that was creaking more than an old rocking chair. The pass just before Steamboat (I cant remember the name without the map in front of me,) was a doozie. A long climb up, finished off with a few hundred feet of cobble-rock-rubble ATV path, and a similarly rough descent. This was another situation where the riding could have been much more enjoyable with another bike, fresher legs, and less painful feet. Soon, the trail became dirt road, and the remainder of the descent into Steamboat was a 30+mph thrill ride.

While I left my bike with the crew at Orange Peel Bike Shop, I went out on the town with a rental bike. Fenders, grip-shift internal hub, beach bars, and a seat wide enough to support Oprah...yeah you know the kind. I was still lyrca-clad, and probably looking quite haggard, so I got some pretty epic looks as I wove through traffic on my new ride, on my way to the grocery store, Post Office, and Deli. I saw my (new) old friend Evan in town, as he was having some bike work done as well. We joked about our appearance on the rental bikes, and made a plan to meet up for the night. We both wanted to make Kremmling, about another 80 miles or so out of Steamboat. His bike was ready, but my pace was a bit quicker so we made the plan that he would cruise easy, and I would hammer to catch up. After a few sandwiches, my bike was tuned up and ready to shredy. Like a dog with a rabbit, I hammered out of town. Around Yampa Lake the headwinds tried their hardest to destroy me. I was happy to be back in the woods soon after the lake to make up some time on the hills without howling wind. It was just before a small river crossing that I saw Evan as a speck on the horizon. Eventually we caught up and crossed said river together. It was cold, and fast moving, but not too deep or dangerous, but it was still nice to be with someone else for the crossing. Riding on that night was somewhere between the most fun and most exhausting experience of the whole trip. I had ridden most of the race alone up to this point. Sure I had some brief conversation here-and-there, but I hadn't spent hours on end with one person. Bonking hard at about 1030, some green-tea caffeine pills and friendly conversation kept me awake and alive to push into Kremmling that night at about 1230. Thanks for pushing me Evan! Long night descents on tiny dirt roads deep in CO made for some exhilarating riding. Upon cresting a big hill we see a "Downhill" truck sign, Evan points and says
"Hey, look, we're like trucks."
"Yeah, we're haulin' ass!"
I'm not sure if it was the fact that I was way beyond exhausted, or if it was actually that funny, but I laughed for miles and miles after that. Upon arival in Kremmling, I chugged a chocolate milk and chowed on some nachos from the convenience store and fell asleep in my bike clothes on top of the covers in the Super 8. It was almost 1AM at this point and I was zonked, so there was no way my 330AM alarm was going to work. I slept till 6, and felt recharged enough for another day. A short trip across to the same convenience store got me some Good Morning Breakfast Burrito calories to start the day, and I hit the road feeling awesome an strong.

To be continued.