After almost a week traveling and camping together, Phil and Shannon and I split up – already we seem like good friends! They head towards Boulder for a Craig’s List rideshare towards Austin and I take the paved bike path 15 miles to Breckenridge, passing through the small town of Frisco with a charming Main Street. My hair was out of control so I stopped for a trim.
In Breckenridge I hung out at the Starbucks to catch up on this journal, organize my pictures, catch up on email, etc. Not much mileage today (28), but I have to cross Boreas Pass on a gravel road, elevation 11,500’. The road follows the old high line Denver, South Pass and Pacific Railroad so the climb is gentle – 4% and I do it mostly using my middle chain ring (no granny gear). I’m passed by a bunch of mountain bike racers who must wonder at the loaded trailer I’m pulling.
As I crest the pass there are some old railroad buildings and a box car, and sitting on a bench right at the top is this figure all dressed in white with a long beard and Whoppi Goldbereg glasses…I rub my eyes and think I’m seeing Jesus…but fortunately it’s just some hiker taking a break. We wave to each other but don’t speak. I check out the railroading historical panels and warily eye the foul weather approaching, but I calculate I can make the campground before I get rained on.
Wrong. About ½ way down I get slammed – rain sleet hail wind thunder lightening – I stop and put on my fleece jacket and rain gear, but the rest of me gets soaked and in five minutes my hands (in open-fingered gloves) are feeling frostbitten and my toes (in open sandals) are freezing. Although the road is downhill and I could theoretically go fast, but I don’t have any fenders so I have to go slow to avoid mud being splattered all over my back by the rear tire and all over my everything else by the front tire. And the trailer doesn’t have a fender, either. Boy, what I wouldn’t pay for some nice fenders right about now… Anyway I coast my way to the Selkirk Campground road, 1 mile off route, and have to decide to continue five miles to the settlement of Como or do the campground. Hmm… My hands and feet are frozen so I opt for the campground, which has about 30 sites but only two other campers. Then there is no potable water, so I have to sludge out to the creek and get some water to cook with. I make something hot to eat (Mexican rice), set up the tent, and dive into the down bag. It rains a lot all night but I’m high and dry, chuckling to myself about what a crazy trip this Great Divide Route is…
