We're moving East

We're taking the day off in Pueblo, CO to rest up for our next nine days, nine days in which we will attempt to make the 1100+ miles to Louisville, KY to attend Forecastle folk festival. Tailwinds and early mornings should enable us but I fully expect to need a hitch somewhere along the way.

It's been a while since we last updated. Torrey, UT was full week ago. Many events have transpired since...

Loren was separated from the rest of us for a night in western Colorado. Due to some unintentional misdirection on my part Loren hitch hiked a full 50 miles north of where we needed to go. His front wheel had flatted out twice in the morning so we decided rim tape was the culprit. Intending to meet us in the afternoon, he hitched it North to get to a bikeshop. Of course, an hour of downhill riding later, the other three of us realized we were heading in the wrong direction. We spent a few minutes in silence (mine in embarassment, Eric and Jordan's no doubt in fury) before we turned around to make the 15 mile journey back to our wrong turn. Of course the clouds began to darken and within 20 minutes we were fighting headwinds and stinging rain. Lightning began to crack on the peaks around us so we took cover. Throwing our bikes in a pile we rushed under our tarps for protection.

The rain let up before long and we emerged muddy and discouraged but prepared to continue biking. A truck stopped however and offered us a ride. We gladly accepted and were shortly back on track.

As soon as we could, we called Loren. He had already discovered the navigational error and was trying to figure out how to get back on route. We all decided to just keep biking for the day and see how far we could get, counting on Loren's famed hitch-hiking methods to return him safely.

At 8:00 we pulled into the little town of Norwood and began looking for somewhere to camp. As dark approached it looked as though the local fairgrounds would be our best bet. Suddenly Eric remembered seeing a sign in front of a house on the outskirts of town. We backtracked and soon found ourselves in front of a cabin-esque house with numerous sheds and outhouses dotting the lawn. The sign Eric had spotted said "Bike Route" and pointed down the driveway. Hesitant but hopeful we rolled into the gravel, dismounted, and knocked.

A man of average build with wild brown hair answered the door. His cutoff jean coveralls said "Ropetech- We don't do drugs but we get high." From his cupped hand he plucked cashews and threw them into his mouth as he looked at us. "Hello," he said as if three scraggly bikers appeared on his doorstep every night.

"Hi. Sorry to bother you. We were just biking past and noticed your bike route sign. We figured maybe you were a cyclist and wouldn't mind a few tourers pitching tents in your yard," I said.

He continued to munch on his snack casually and said, "Okay." We tried to explain that we would be happy to pitch tents but he refused and said he and his wife would be glad to put us up inside, in beds in fact.

We introduced ourselves and found, to our surprise, that he was a French mountaineer who had settled in this small city of 1000 to start a professional roping and window washing company. Juju had spent years traveling and was a bike tourer himself (through Madagascar!).

After an exceptionally warm shower I returned to the kitchen to find his lovely wife Laurel (sp?) bringing in hot food from a catered wedding. She warmed the food as the five of us related our backgrounds in their spacious living room. Their house was built around an old cabin and they were slowly improving upon the building as time allowed. As far as I'm concerned however, the house couldn't have been better. Laurel laid the stone tile in their kitchen herself while Juju made additions around the house. It was rustic, warm and wreaked of good stories and better memories. It was exactly the kind of homestead I'd like some day.

To make this long story short, a terrible wrong turn at the beginning of the day ended with wonderful conversation and beds. Laurel and Juju were exceptional hosts, and I would recommend a taste of their hospitality to all travelers. (cyclists can find them on warmshowers) I felt terrible for make Loren spend the night alone in Gateway but he can relate that story. He had an alright time himself.

My hands tire and some food calls. Many thanks to everyone who sent care packages to Pueblo and who support us as we ride. We've been fattening up on cookies and trail mix today, and we have plenty to last us.

Jake