I’m glad that I took the motel room last night since I was awoken about 3 a.m. by very loud hail hitting the roof! Not a good night to be out in a small tent. The paper indicated that it was –2 degrees as well which would have been a bit on the cool side, although the same is forecast for this evening.

Some years ago there was an inane film made entitled ‘Dumb and Dumber’. I think that this portion of the trip should be named ‘Masochism and Extreme Masochism’. Let me explain. Steamboat Springs is in the foothills of the final chain of the Rocky Mountains. At about 6600’, there is a 2800’ rise to the first pass over the Rockies, which also corresponds to the Continental Divide. After this pass one has two options. There is a route north on 14 which is basically flat (or at least flat for the Rockies) or one can continue on 40 and then take 34 up to Estes Park. This alternative route entails a second minor crossing of the Continental Divide (at 8772’), then a third crossing at 10,758’ (3254 m). However, this is not the final hurrah, as the road peaks at 12,183’ (3685 m), making it the highest road in the USA. So given an easy or brutal route it is obvious which one I chose … the brutal, what else? There is definitely a masochistic streak in me, not only for starting this trip but for making choices like this and for pushing on for long distances at high speeds. It is not only with cycling, a few years ago I was christened a ‘Trek Nazi’ for my habits of always taking the harder route and walking long distances. A psychiatrist would have a field day …

I got an early start and was out of the motel before 8. It was cold so I wore my long trousers. I was advised to go to ‘Stakes’ restaurant for breakfast and I was not mis-directed. I had a delightful stack of hotcakes and some scrambled eggs which fuelled me for what was ahead. Although all the shops were closed, Steamboat was a delightful town, obviously geared towards the ski tourist. With the ski slopes ending practically in town it must be fantastic in winter.

I needed to stock up on provisions so went to the local Safeway store. They had a great selection of fruits and vegetables but nothing to speak of in the area of health foods. A woman approached me and asked if that was my bike outside. She was most impressed to hear that I had left San Francisco three weeks ago that morning. She was obviously the outdoors type, as were many of those I saw in Steamboat Springs. Indeed, the town has the dubious honour of having the lowest number of obviously overweight people of any town I’ve yet seen.

The mountains basically start at Steamboat and as I cycled south from town I was presented with the beautiful panorama you can see below. The mountains were off to the left and the road skirted them keeping to the flat as much as possible.

This part of Colorado was the most fertile I had yet seen and there were farms all along the road. They mainly seemed to be aimed at horses, or growing fodder, but with the mountains and the green grass it was lovely.

At about 9:30 a.m. I started ascending into the mountains. I soon found myself in a road construction zone which was great. I once again cycled in the closed lane which I really appreciated as there was a surfeit of trucks and RVs. Looking back to the valley was incredible. This really is a lovely part of the country. The photos below don’t really do it justice.

The grade was long and steady, not too steep, so I was able to do about 8 km/h upwards. There was a moderate wind from the west (where it is supposed to come from!) and for most of the time it was a tail or side wind which was infinitely preferable to a headwind.

As I approached the top I came across an unusual bit of road construction. In the photo below you will see that they have taken the surface away down to the base. To the right you will see pink sheets of styrofoam. This is the standard insulation that is used in a house. The insulation is placed on the base, covered with a small amount of base material, and then 100 mm of asphaltic concrete is put on top. What they have found is that this will reduce the effects of frost heave in the pavement. Fancy that.

It took me about 3.5 hours but I eventually reached the Continental Divide! 3 weeks and 2 hours after leaving San Francisco. The following photos are proof of this …

Called ‘Rabbit Ears Pass’ – and don’t ask me why since it didn’t remind me of rabbit ears nor did I see any rabbits – it was at an elevation of 9426’ or 2850 m. The place was quite exposed and the wind howled from behind me (thank goodness!). There was an elderly couple from Missouri who were taking their photo in front of the sign so I prevailed on him to take my photo.

It was about 13:00 so I decided that this was as good a spot as any for a lunch break. I went off the road along a trail which seemed to follow the Continental Divide and positioned myself against a tree which acted as a wind block. I ate my bagels as well as enjoying some of my fruit, particularly the blue berries. I’m happiest when I have a big punnet of berries that I can devour my way through. Lis and I found a blueberry farm near Motueka so we are looking forward to lots of pick your own berries.

The area both before and after the Continental Divide was resplendent with alpine meadows. There were pine trees and the rich scent of pine was everywhere. There is a tranquillity of these meadows that photos cannot encapsulate so the following are poor reflections of what I saw. In places there was still snow and this added a lovely extra dimension to the colours. With the sun shining it really was beautiful.

I was soon on my downhill wheeeee run, but I tempered it by stopping frequently to admire the countryside. The mountains in the distance had a light sprinkling of snow and the whole area looked peaceful and it was just inspiring. I was so fortunate to be there and to be part of it on my bicycle; not passing through in a closed vehicle like all the others.

The second crossing of the Continental Divide at Muddy Pass was anti-climatic as it was at the end of a long downhill run and up a relatively short hill. I could see a long way into the distance as the photo below shows; and in the far distance you can see the final set of peaks that I would have to cross. It was a nice downhill run and with little traffic I had the road to myself. The road just went on and on as we descended into the valley, passing farms which seemed to be devoid of any livestock – although the grass was so lush I knew their had to be.

Eventually the road bottomed out in a lovely valley with a river running along the valley floor. The abundance of water was evidenced by the mosquitoes who attacked me with great fervour when I halted to take the following photo. Within seconds I had at least 6 of them on me so I was as quick as I could be. The farms did not have the barren look of their relatives in Eastern Colorado, although further along I saw up in the hills that in spite of the river the land was also suffering from desertification.

The road was undulating with grades that weren’t too bad. The scenery was lovely and I particularly enjoyed the mountains in the distance. There is something about the presence of mountains that I find special. I don’t know what it is or where it comes from but it’s just part of me. I never tire of looking at the peaks.

Eventually I came to the town of Kremmling which was much larger than I expected. As with many of the towns in the area there was a surfeit of vacant shops, but there was still a lot of activity and people about so it wasn’t dying. There was also a huge high school which obviously contributes towards the local economy. I was feeling indulgent so I went to an ice cream parlour and had a cup of ice cream. I also downloaded the photos from my camera. A friendly young woman chatted to me and was most interested to hear that I was from N.Z. She was from Chicago and was working on a nearby ranch but was very keen to go to N.Z. She had gone as far as getting a book listing the organic farms in N.Z. so she could try and get a job! I lamented about the problems of being a vegetarian in the USA and she assured me that once I got to the East it would be much better. The West was still a meat eater’s paradise – particularly if you’ve killed it yourself.

I decided to head on to Hot Sulphur Springs and I found myself following the Colorado River. In fact, this was classified as a ‘Scenic Drive’ to the headwaters of the river. It really was something in places as the following photo shows.

Just before Hot Sulphur Springs there was a most amazing gorge where the river cut through these jagged rocks. A long train passed me just before I entered and it snaked its way along the other side of the river, deep below the road. I was interested to see that they had put wire netting suspended on a cantilever system on top of telephone poles to prevent rocks from falling on the track. It was the first train that I had seen and it would have had at least 30 cars with three locomotives. Very noisy, but trains are one of those things that I like to listen to as they always evoke an image of travelling. When we lived in England Lis used to enjoy the sound of the train far in the distance at night …

Hot Sulphur Springs appeared to be the county seat and was quite a bustling little town. There was a neat museum which was unfortunately closed. I stopped to get my water bottles filled and the woman at the shop was not at all helpful. I decided to see if there was anything worth eating at the restaurant and they had a vegetarian stir fry which sounded nice. It was awful. The chef used several times too much soya sauce so that was the dominant flavour. Ho hum. I told him to ease off next time. At least they willingly filled my bottles which was a good thing as I needed lots of water after that meal!

By the time I finished dinner there was still over an hour to sunset and it was the summer solstice so I wanted to watch the sunset. I decided to cycle on and try to make the campground at Lake Granby. It was about 40 km so I would arrive after dark, but hopefully not too late. The road was fairly flat as it followed the river so I made very good time. There were lots of potential camping sites except there were regular notices to the extent ‘Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted to the Full Extent of the Law’. Friendly folks in these parts. I found out later it was for the fishing … not for tired cycle tourists. I passed a fellow changing a tyre who (thankfully) declined my offer of assistance as that would have made me extra late. Still, one must always offer.

I passed by a wildlife area at dusk and saw several deer. They are quite common in these parts, although unlike earlier I didn’t see any dead by the roadside. I did see a lot of squashed skunks which surprisingly did not smell as much as I thought they would. Anyone who has ever experienced their smell will know why I expected it to be more prevalent.

At Granby I left Highway 40 and turned onto 34. This would take me up through Rocky Mountain Park. The sunset was absolutely magnificent. There was a chain of mountains ahead of me and they wee bathed in a red light. The photo below definitely doesn’t do it justice but it may give you a slight taste of what it was like.

I gave up any hope of camping by the road when I saw that the fields were all waterlogged. Whether or not this was due to the heavy storm of the previous day I’m not sure, but there was standing water all along the side of the road. I was beginning to tire when I came across a sign for a camp site. It was Lake Granby. After cycling 1.5 km along the road, which included crossing the top of a dam, I came upon a very pleasant site. The ‘Hosts’ welcomed me and took my $15 and we chatted a bit before I pitched my tent and collapsed into bed. A long but good day. Tomorrow was the first day of summer and the day when I would conquer the Rockies.