Cycling in the West – Alamosa to Walsenburg

Bicycle Touring in the West
Day 18 – Alamosa to Walsenburg

“I only went out for a walk, and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.” 
  ~ John Muir

It’s a beautiful morning rolling east on 160 out of Alamosa. There’s a bit of damp air hanging close to the ground in places, feeling almost like a light fog – something we don’t see much of in Colorado. As we approach the Great Sand Dunes area off to our north, I realize that the hazy sky is most likely the result of fires they’ve been experiencing to our south in recent days and weeks. At times, I can actually smell a bit of smoke.

I know this is my last day of riding for this trip, and I’m more bummed than I thought I’d be. I find myself holding back and riding a bit slow – savoring the last tastes of the trip.

Dave, on the other hand, has what he calls “headed back to the barn” syndrome. Dave grew up on a farm, and has some wonderfully quirky sayings like this. For those who have no idea what “headed back to the barn” means, it refers to how horses behave when you’ve had them out working and they realize they’re headed home, or how dairy cows behave when they’re headed for the milk barn at milking time. (At least that’s my version of what it means…)

I don’t think Dave necessarily wants the trip to end – he’s been having a good time just like I have. But to Dave, reaching the end represents achievement – it’s the fulfillment of an important accomplishment. Milestone completed. There’s great joy and pleasure in that for him.

I want to check that box on my list too, but I’m not as driven by it as Dave is. I’m guessing that for Dave, he’s finding growing joy in the day as he nears that end-point where he’ll put that big fat “X” in the box beside this ride. Whereas for me, the day is bittersweet as each pedal stroke brings me closer to the end of the joy I’ve been experiencing on this trip.

Dave finds he has to stop and wait for me several times during the morning. He’s good-natured about it as always, but I can sense the giddy-up in him as he draws closer to that barn with each mile.

We hope to find a breakfast place at either Blanca or Ft Garland, but end up settling for cStore food at Ft Garland. It’s our last cStore meal, and as silly as it sounds, I think I’ll miss these meals, sitting around on the shady concrete in front of the store, people watching while we eat and drink.

As we leave Ft Garland, we pick up a little tailwind. On any other day, this would probably lift my spirits so high that I’d be flying out in front of Dave, sucking up the joy of screaming along the highway in front of the wind. But today, the joy of the tailwind just makes me want to take it easy and savor every morsel of these last miles.

As I approach La Veta pass, I notice a small herd of elk grazing in a meadow down to the right. I stop to take a picture, but when I stop, they decide to head into the woods. When I catch up to Dave at the top of the pass, I ask if he saw the elk, and he’s bummed that he didn’t. At this point, Dave is so focused on that checkmark at the end of the ride that he’s seeing very little around him, while I’m so focused on what’s around me that I’m probably frustrating Dave with my lollygagging.

So I decide to let go of the stalling, and just go with the wind between here and our destination in Walsenburg. Flying down the mountain with a tailwind, I think 1 car passes me the whole time. It’s a long and gradual descent, and I don’t think I touch the brakes once. As the grade levels out, I pass a smear in the road where a big cow elk was hit overnight, with the big pile of cow elk right on the side of the road. I smile to myself as I figure I’ll tease Dave about how he couldn’t possibly have missed this elk.

Dave missed the elk. Not just that he didn’t hit it, he didn’t see it. In fairness, he did see the big smear on the road as he drove across it, but just didn’t notice what was at the messy end of the smear… Really, I’m not sure how he does it.

We roll in to Walsenburg after a glorious run of 20+ miles of screaming tailwind and descent. The only thing that could end this day and this trip better would be a good Mexican place where we can eat lunch. We both make this comment, and proceed to find a fine Mexican place right downtown. As usual, our garb doesn’t quite fit in with the locals, but it’s a fine lunch.

I can’t imagine how I could feel much better. A tailwind and downhill for the last 20 miles, I feel strong and fit, it’s gloriously hot out in the sun, and I have a belly full of burrito.

Really, is there a better place in life?

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
  ~ Henry David Thoreau, 1854