Although it was sad to leave the great plains of Kansas, we arrived in Colorado looking for a change in pace (literally) in the famous, or infamous, Rocky Mountains. As we entered Colorado, the first few days seemed well honestly exactly like Kansas, very flat, very dry and very desolate. In fact, for the second half of Kansas and the first half of Colorado, we followed the same... one... road. Highway 96 was decent in the way of pavement, however horrible in the way of drivers. This is the a picture of the last turn we made in Kansas, funny thing is, we had over 200 miles of Kansas to go.
With the passing of wheat harvest season only days before, route 96 was riddled with wheat combines and otherwise utterly gigantic vehicles. Semi-trucks carrying wheat combines behind them passing you at 70 mph while fighting a 20 mph cross-wind is not a fun experience.
As we continued through Colorado, through the desolate plains that had since turned from fields of plentiful crops to endless bounds of what looked like a hot tundra, I saw something amazing. riding slowly and painfully over a hill against the wind I reached the top and peered into the distance to find what I had been looking for on the horizon for days. In the far distance along the horizon I saw a faint jagged line seperating two every so slightly different shades of blue open sky. What I was looking at in the distance, were the Rocky Mountains. I kept riding through the desert to the sight of the monstrous mountain growing ever so slightly larger as the distance between us dwindled. Before I knew it I was in Pueblo Colorado, at the feet of the awe-inspiring Rocky Mountains. The date was July 4th.
We had ridden 110 miles that day to make it Pueblo on the fourth and gain ourselves a rest day. That night we meandered our way through town looking for fireworks to find a bridge slightly elevated over the city to find the most amazing fire-works show I have ever seen. This was not one amazing show, but rather a 360 degree view of a rocky mountain horizon littered with flashing lights and colorful explosions a show like no other and one I will not forget.
Our rest day was spent sleeping, watching bad hotel television and preparing for the final chapter of our adventure, the west. I visited the local sports authority to buy sunglasses and a new sleeping bag which were desperately needed in the coming high elevation nights of blinding sun and freezing nights.
As we left Pueblo two things happened. First, we left the trans-america trail which we have been following since day one, thus putting us on the western express trail for a straight shot through the deserts of North America to San Francisco. Also, we completed our first pass through the rocky mountains. For those who might not know, a pass is summiting a mountain, we have 4 major passes in the rocky mountains. Climbing in the rockies is different from climbing the mountains of the East because first of all the climbs are much longer, up to 40 miles and they are also breath-takingly beautiful. One thing I have noticed traveling almost 3,000 miles across America is that almost every place in America is beautiful, but every place in America is beautiful in its own very unique way. So to say that the rocky mountains are different in that they are beautiful is not to say the Appalachians are not beautiful but they are beautiful in a whole new way to me. Although I have driven and hiked in and around the rockies before, there is somehing totally different about biking across thirty miles of valley and reaching the continental divide at 11,300 feet on your own will power. The rocky mountain range is truly awe-inspiring and breath taking. I am loving Colorado and I feel like it is only a matter of time before I live here. More to come!
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