My Life is Bikes
Bikepacking Memory: Leaving Steamboat
In Steamboat, we ate overpriced but good tacos and then got some groceries at a gas station. We drank tall cans of Modelo down by the river. There was a sign that said “No Swimming.” We tossed sticks into the water while we chatted and laughed about the day all we had seen and experienced so far. It had been a long day, and there was still far to go. The late-day light painted our little river scene golden and green. We found comfort sitting down by the bank of the river, away from the streets - a small town at that – only busy by comparison to wilderness. Throughout our friendship and shared experiences, we had grown accustomed to mainly each other’s presence and eating simple meals -- minimal and quiet -- often just listening to the sounds of our bicycle chains rolling over the gears and our tires slapping over loose gravel, rocks, and pavement, and wind in our ears. The bustling ski town was sort of a shock to the senses.
The sun had started to set, and we still had to ride up Buffalo Pass enough to find a spot to pitch our tents for the night. We got back on our bicycles and started riding out of town.
We started gaining elevation, and soon the pavement ended and the gravel road began. We filled our water bottles in Steamboat at the taco shop, but we had at least 2,000 feet of climbing before there would be any chance of filling them at a stream or a campsite spigot. The sun was down, and we pedaled slowly but steadily up into the dark, quiet forest. People in cars with mountain bikes on their hitches passed us as they headed back into town. Many smiled and waved as they went by. I felt free and alive. My legs loosened again, and I felt like I could ride my bike straight up the moon as it crested the forest in front of us.
It was getting quite dark as we approached the campsite and trailheads, which were about halfway up Buffalo Pass. Apparently, there had been a mountain bike race that day, and people were packing up and leaving. They poured down the mountain with bicycles on the back of their cars and smiles on their faces. They cheered us on and waved as we pedaled up and up. We approached a parking lot in the final light of the day, and there was a tent with people playing music and packing up bikes and EZ-Up tents. “Bear in the area” signs were posted around. We did a lap around the small campsite loop and found that there was no spigot to drink from and refill our water bottles.
The tacos and beer had worn off at this point, and I was getting ready to call it a day at the first opportunity to set up camp, but we still needed water. “I bet they have water at the race tent,” I said.
“Yeah, probably so.” We pedaled over with a sense of urgency as it was clear that they were moments from rolling back down to civilized Steamboat. As we rolled up to the tent, I saw that they were preparing to dump out large Gatorade coolers full of cold water.
“Hold on! We need some water!”
They looked a little surprised to see us, but eagerly offered the water. One guy who was blatantly stoned started taking our bottles from us and filling them. “Chug that and I’ll fill it again. Do you need food?” It was a miracle.
“Yeah, if you're offering.” As bottles were filled, the guy started delivering gigantic cookies and bags of chips. Then he went to the truck and came back and handed me something wrapped up in paper.“Thanks. What is it?”
“Ham sammich.”
“Incredible.” He left and came back with more. He was handing us snacks and sandwiches with such intent and speed that I started dropping them and stuffing food into my mouth and pockets. He asked, “Where are you guys going?”
Oliver said, “Fort Collins eventually. Up Buffalo pass tonight.”
“There’s water further up, too -- in streams. You’ll find it.” He spoke with a tone of familiarity to our endeavor. “But Freebird just started. You guys can’t leave until it's over.” So we listened to Lynyrd Skynyrd coming from the huge speakers they had brought up the mountain as we stuffed snacks into any available space on our bikes. We each had ham sandwiches, chips, and cookies, and little cans of Coca-Cola. The temperature had dropped significantly with the loss of sunlight. We put on jackets and equipped ourselves with lights. Then continued up the rocky road in the dark to find a spot to camp, as the campsite was full.
My First 24 Hour Race: Recap With Alex Johnson
Alex and I wrack our tired brains while trying to make sense of the race we just took part in. February, 2022
