Solo

Yesterday morning in Telluride, Cody announced his plans to quit the tour for a number of different personal reasons. In actuality, he said that he was thinking about quitting and that I should go on ahead of him and he would make up his mind after a few hours rest and either see me on down the track or make his way home.

I took this to mean that he was indeed quitting because we were to summit Lizard Head Pass (10,222 feet) and an early start is critical for avoiding thunderstorms at higher elevations. It was either now or never. So I decided to press on by myself. I planned to reach the top around 11:00 am, so as to be descending before noon. A few miles from the top, even at 10:00 in the morning, things started getting dicey.

A mile from the top, lightning struck very nearby and so I turned around and waited for an hour on someone's porch. Things didn't really clear, but most of the rumbling had subsided, so I got back on the bike and, after summiting, coasted to a nice little town called Rico, thunder rumbling all around once again. I lunched and had a delightful conversation with a man, Felix Snow, who is a motivational speaker. Felix was in a car accident in 1995 and is now in a wheelchair. Chew on this: he skiied Telluride something like 37 days this year.

I rolled on to Dolores to wait for a riding partner I knew wouldn't materialize. When a phonecall confirmed my solitude, I ate dinner, slept at a B&B and awoke at 4:45 this morning to get an early start. I am slightly disheartened to go it alone, especially through the most barren country, but I must press on. I am ready to be done. I feel like everyday is a fight for my life to avoid lightning, to beat heat, just to make it to the next town. I am ready to get my old life back. I am tired of racing around on this bicycle. All bicycling is a race: a race to get out the door in the morning; a race to find food; a race to find the restroom; a race to find shelter from sinister black stormclouds; a race to find a place to sleep by dark; a race to get home. Sigh.

I'm 8 miles from the Utah border and from completing my sixth state and nearly 2700 miles. Bring on the desert.