We’re back out on the trail! Not far up it, but back at it.
While we had plenty of places to stay in Durango, even after housesitting was up, the feet were getting itchy. There was trail to be ridden and a few more days of snow melt wasn’t going to make a big difference. So we declined all offers of beds and stuck to our original departure date.
We’ve got four to five days of high altitude riding and a good weather window, so we didn’t want to squander it and be stuck above treeline when the first monsoons of the season hit.
We slept till 9. Ate some breakfast. Computered. Packed up our bounce box. Got all the random stuff together to send to my parents house. Went to the post office. Went to Bread for trail supplies. Cleaned the house. Took Cushla to the park for some good old fashioned ball chasing. I’m going to miss that little bugger…
And then we were off. Zia burritos to go.
It was time to pedal. Up the road…it was hard to accept that standing on the pedals didn’t produce immediate acceleration. Riding loaded is always such a buzzkill for the first few miles.
Then onto the Colorado Trail. We could have taken shorter routes either onto the high sections of the CT or straight to Silverton, and maybe tomorrow when we’re trudging through snow, we’ll wish we did, but there’s something awesome about starting at the beginning of a trail and starting to ride.
We climbed. And climbed. And then we climbed some more.
We got to Highpoint, and descended a far flatter trail than I remember from all my rides on the trail in the opposite direction. Though the end did have some sporting descending, which I fondly remember as miserable hike-a-bike.
Crossing the Junction Creek bridge, we started our climb in earnest. Since we didn’t actually leave town until 4, I figured I could ride till dark with a minimal amount of food. Thus, I bonked. Go team.
I threw myself a little hissy fit and kept going, wishing that Scott would mercifully end what was starting to seem like a death march. Yes. I’m being overly dramatic, but I was definitely to the point that only a big meal could pull me out of the slump.
We pulled up just short of Junction Creek Road to a nice little flat spot in the middle of a bunch of trees. Some dead, some alive. But there’s no wind, so I’m really hoping the dead ones don’t choose tonight to fall over.
Zia burrito in belly. Teeth brushed. Camp made. Blog written. It’s good to be back on the trail.