July 8, 2011
Day 87: Guffey, CO
I climb out of a just-too-short-bunk, open the giant front door of the tiny cabin, and walk down one step into a brisk and beautiful morning in the mountains. Guffey is completely quiet except for the subtle rushing of the wind and the rustling of tree branches. The sky above reflects a deep and brilliant blue. It's a great morning for riding, but one that's even better for staying exactly where I am.
| Heart | 1 | Comment | 0 | Link |
I pass the morning and early afternoon writing and taking pictures and napping. I can sense myself feeling the slightest bit better with every passing hour. I think about the towns and states I'll be riding through in the coming days and weeks, but I don't feel like I'm missing out by hanging back a few days. If anything, the time off the road will help put me in a clearer state of mind, so that I can experience and enjoy them more once I get there.
Riders on horseback pass me as I walk through town. When I reach the cafe I see the horses tied to a hitching post in front, munching on all of the dark green blades of grass they can reach. I also come across a familiar face: Ken, the British rider I met on the evening of the Fourth back in Ordway.
We have dinner at the town saloon later on, where we talk touring and come to the agreement that riding across America on a bicycle is a ridiculously good time, and that our trips have turned out to be everything we hoped they would be. On the walk back to my cabin I pass a bar called The Bull Moose, where the band called The Cornhole Players who were on stage earlier have given way to semi-drunk locals performing awful outdoor karaoke. Goats yell at me and dogs bark loudly as I head up Guffey's main street.
The warm, picturesque evening gives way to a thunderstorm that rolls in just before dark. The peacock that lives nearby wails of every crack of thunder and flashes of lightning shine through the tiny cabin windows every 30 seconds. As the sound of rain drops clanking on the metal roof help send me to sleep, I think about how the laziest and least interesting day on this trip turned out to be one of the best.
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 4 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 0 |