Day 41: Mother Infrastructure

July 13th, 2024

Denver, CO → Kenosha Campground, CO

44.8/74.6 miles, 4,196/7,556 feet elevation

Today I thought about the route first thing when I woke up. 75 miles and 7k feet of elevation terrified me. I didn’t do Shenandoah with everyone else due to Rental Car Fiasco Number Three, so I had no idea how that felt. Or whether I could even do it. The Rockies loomed in my head the same way they tower over Denver. But I had a big breakfast, downloaded some upbeat music, and set off through the Denver suburbs. Our route was heading on the US-285, a major player in today’s story and my enemy. While it was fine for about 5 miles, eventually it became a busy, scary highway. I pulled over when the route asked me to cross two exit-only lanes of crowded traffic to continue straight. And then I realized via location stalking that Sophia, JD, and Jess had also pulled over when asked to make that same maneuver. We schemed for a bit and decided to take an alternate route to a mountain town called Conifer. It would avoid the 285 for as long as possible but added miles and elevation. But the 285 was just too scary. 

Google Mapsing outside of the Chuck E Cheese (unfortunately not open at 9am)

Five of us set off along some of Denver’s lovely bike trails. It was incredible to see so many bikers!!! There were so many that you wouldn’t do the hi and smile. I saw so many cool jerseys like a Colorado state one and one that said trip to the moon. I also went through my first bike roundabout which was dope. As I biked, I was thinking about how this trip allows me to see so many things but it never really allows me to stop. I’m just peeking in at other people’s lives and these places. Old men golfing at 9am, a mom driving her family home at the end of the work week, a kid who loves cross country. I don’t belong anywhere right now. Although, I do know that I belong with the rest of the team, who I love a lot.

Also, the Platte river looks like the wash near my house in Simi Valley.

Simi Valley, California

Denver, Colorado

I was also thinking about all the roads in Simi that I said I would die on if I ever rode there and how I’ve biked on worse ones now. All of a sudden I have a completely different comfort level and I didn't realize.

A bike lane that crosses a freeway entrance near my house. At this point in my biking career a bike lane existing is huge!

My chain starts jumping a bit as we start some small climbs (my derailleur hanger is on the brink). I don’t want to miss the Rockies, but I’m fighting the part of myself that wants to use this as an excuse to not bike the climbs. To be honest, most days I wish for a little excuse that will give me some rest, so I’m used to this internal struggle. I commit to biking to Conifer and finding a bike shop there. This is only after making Amulya stop to be my emotional support as I decide what to do. Sorry dawg.

And so off we go on a ten mile climb. When we start climbing, I realize how blazing hot it is. It’s a dry Western heat and the Rockies at this point look no different from the San Gabriel Mountains in Los Angeles.

Spokes Ride. Hot. (credits to JD)

Climbing is not a grind, your quads aren’t on fire. Rather, you pedal with so little resistance, crawling up the hill and willing yourself not to stop. I was so slow that if I didn’t keep pushing my legs over and over, I would come to a halt and get the rest that my body was screaming for. But that’s not how this works. We’re still climbing climbing climbing. There are essentially no flats. I refuse to look at the grade or my speed or anything. I just keep going. Amulya and I are together and we get water that a house set out for bikers. But only after getting yelled at by a woman who said her dogs were going to bite us. 

Amulya's face says it all. Thank you kind strangers!

At this point it’s getting steeper but also so much more beautiful. However it’s hard for me to look up. I’m concentrating so much on pedaling. I really don’t want to stop but if it were up to the upset part of me I would stop every 500 feet. Eventually I get to High Grade Road. The grade was indeed high!

If you see switchbacks, you know it's over. This did not take 4 minutes.

I went through a rockslide section and so I really really couldn’t stop. Although I stopped for 20 seconds by accident. 

Cue Bad Girls by M.I.A. which is my zooming song after seeing Bling Ring a while back

I was talking to myself a lot. “Come on.” “Don’t stop.” “Agh.” “You got this.” I often lie to myself and say “this isn’t a hill, it’s just an incline,” but I couldn’t do that today. I just really didn’t want to know the grade. After miles and miles of uphill, I finally reached a big downhill. It was the best feeling ever; I had practically forgotten what life was like before the climb.

I was not fooled by this name change!

I get to town and go to a bike shop which bends my derailleur hanger back into shape. For the third time! And then I wait for Jess to fix a flat because we’re returning to the 285 which is big and busy and we thought groups were better. I drink some of Varsha’s coffee (sorry for being a mooch on your free coffee Varsha) and we chat. Things feel good. 

Jess and I set off on the 285 and I’m so nervous because it feels like an interstate. This begins my personal scariest 10 minutes of all of Spokes. The downhill is enormous, the kind where you have to pump your brakes to stay at a reasonable speed, and the shoulder dwindles to less than a foot. Cars were zipping by and had to merge into the opposite lane of traffic. I want to pull over but I can’t leave Jess who is in front of me. And she couldn’t hear if I yell at her. Then this one truck and trailer passed me close and started to merge as it passed Jess. It was getting closer and closer and I cried out “Jess!” It got within inches of her. We kept going down this downhill and then she stopped outside of this house and began to cry. I wanted to cry too. We looked at alternate routes and then Jess said she didn’t want to keep going and then Varsha drove down the 285 and saw us and pulled over at a house in front of us. We threw our bikes on the car and double buckled in the front seat. 

Don't ask me why we took this picture. I can't remember who initiated it

We meet up for a library lunch with the rest of the group who had not had as scary of an encounter but were still spooked. As we ate lunch we tried to talk about what we were going to do. Personally I refused to go back on the 285. I felt like I was going to cause a car crash with all the passing and it felt too risky. But there were literally no other routes. After a lot of discussion, and an honesty that we thankfully were able to give each other, five of us decided to shuttle the rest of the ride and not return to the 285. Cleo and Hank decided to take the 285 and keep biking. The rest of the team stays at the library and plans the route while Varsha, Sophia, and I drive to the campsite.  I’m squashed in the back and just worried and sad and still scared by what almost happened to Jess. I hate the 285. Varsha and Sophia are having a grown up conversation but I’m not part of it. 

The view out the window during the shuttle

Jess charging her computer and making the next day's route in a gas station

We all end up making it to the campsite safely, and when we get to the beautiful site things feel more alright. I have a lot of mixed emotions about shuttling. Part of me feels like it diminishes the following part of the Rockies, since I didn’t do the whole climb. But another stronger part also knows that road was too much for me. Tomorrow is net downhill. I’m sad about not finishing the uphill today. I know there are more climbs in the future but I wanted to prove that I can do it. But I know that I will. I think I will keep thinking about those climbs until I do a big hard day. It’s nice to know for sure that I’ve gotten stronger. Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. 

During the school year, my friend and I would tell each other three things that we were grateful for each day. No matter how bad the day was. It was a good way to appreciate all the small things that hold up daily life. Today was one of those days where it was hard to distinguish three things. But being with the rest of the team at the end of the day always makes me stop and appreciate the small things. We’re taking non-showers with butt wipes in the dark and I’m having the time of my life. To end the blog, here are my top three of this day:

• The feeling at the very end of the climb when the downhill started

• The happiness through safe Denver bike roundabouts

• Cherries

-Rebecca

Also grateful for my phone's camera and the ability to see the stars on this trip.