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Colorado Epic: Day Four

 


Moffat to Gunnison 

I did not feel great this morning.  Yesterday, my stomach was upset all day.  It complained with any bit of food that I tried to make it digest, so I was not able to eat enough yesterday.  I woke up this morning feeling really tired.  On top of that, I had 100 miles to ride today.  I wasn’t sure how the day was going to go, and I didn’t allow myself to think about it too much.  What I did know was my stomach felt better.  I ate a big bowl of oatmeal for breakfast (made by Leslie, specifically because she knew I liked oatmeal, she’s the best!) and I immediately felt better.  I started to get excited for the day.

Kurt opted to ride an e-bike today, which allowed us to roll out as a group.  Leslie and I lead the pack, and the road was flat and quiet.  We rode a double pace line all the way to Saguache, chatting easily and letting our legs spin themselves warm.  

The town of Saguache prompted a discussion about how “Saguache” is pronounced.  

Leslie said, “Sa-GWATCH.”

I said, “Sa-WAH-chee.”

Greg said, “Ceviche.”

Tom said, “Raw fish.”

We moved on.  

The road eventually started to tilt up, and we found ourselves climbing.  I felt pretty terrible the first two miles of the climb.  Everything hurt.  I couldn’t find a rhythm.  My legs complained.  I watched Tom ride away into the distance.  Whatever.  And then something magical happened.  I suddenly felt really good.  I felt my legs settle into a comfortable cadence.  My undercarriage stopped aching.  My shoulders and hands relaxed.  The world was a wonderful place.  I spun my way to the summit, watching my altimeter tick up and up, past 10,000 feet.

We were halfway through the ride at the summit.  With 50 miles to go, I was excited about the descent.  Two miles down, the grade mellowed and a horrible headwind roared across the grasslands.  I tried not to think about how much the next 50 miles were going to suck.  I worked equally hard to pedal downhill and to keep my spirits from disintegrating.  Down I went, slowly, steadily.  And then something magical happened.  We entered a canyon and the wind switched.  Suddenly, it rushed up from behind, swooping us up and surging us down the road like pieces of debris in a flash flood.  I found myself laughing with delight.  Through the canyon we sailed, hoping it would never end.  And then it did.  

We had to make a turn onto a busy highway for the final miles into town.  

“I’m pretty sure we are going to have a headwind all the way to town,” I said.

“The good news is, we’ll have lots of heavy traffic driving by us as well,” Tom offered.

“Yeah,” I said, grimacing.  “And it looks like it might rain.”  I paused.  “This might suck.”

We made the turn, and it wasn’t terrible.  The wind was mostly from the side, and as we got closer to town, it slowly faded.  We did get a few raindrops on us but nothing noteworthy.  Before we knew it, we were pulling into the hotel and watching our Garmins tick over to 100 miles.

What an amazing day!  I feel much better today.  My legs feel really good.  I am ready for more food, more water, and then probably more food.  And also more water.  Oh, and probably more food.

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