Lakes to Mountains Tour

The Finish Line

Thurs May 15: Fort Morgan - Broomfield CO: 84 miles; mostly- to partly-cloudy, high 60?; 9:50-5:05.
The Big Question remained: could I break my end-of-trip jinx? In four of my previous tours (including the last three), various things have kept me from riding all the slated miles on the last day - weather, schedule, flats, injuries. Today, I faced an iffy weather forecast, with over 80 miles slated - including a dreaded stretch along I-76. Sue and my folks had both offered to pick me up, giving me an out.
I tried to ignore it all. The day started well when the waiter at breakfast asked about my tour, wishing me well. My morning talk at Trinity Lutheran School kept up the good karma, even with a misbehaving DVD. I extemporized, and mentioned the haunted health resort we passed on the walk. Of course that fascinated them, and when I opened it to their questions, every 4th or 5th query referred back to that: "Do you see any ghosts? Do you think it was REALLY haunted?"
After an hour, the teachers shooed them back to their classrooms, but not before a few asked for my autograph. To be fair to the others, two teachers then invited me into their classrooms to sign autographs for the rest. One girl reciprocated by handing me her sheet of math homework. Squeezed between the 2+2=4 & 6+6=12, she'd written, "Glenn rocks".
Then I hit the highway. I soon discovered the dangers of Google Maps, as one road abruptly ended, forcing a 3/4-mile backtrack and a stint on gravel. When another proposed turn would have put me on a gravel frontage road, I rethought that route.
The first hour-and-a-third went slowly to Wiggins, as a sidewind and rolling hills kept my speed to 12.6 mph average. Then came the stretch I'd worried over, 10.4 miles on the interstate.
Isn't deja vu nice? In 1994 we'd fretted over the same stretch of road, but it had turned into a delightful day. The road curved a bit southward, putting the wind slightly at my back. (My average on the road for the rest of the day was 14.6.) With the smooth going and the iffy Google directions, I stayed on the highway for another three exits, over 27 miles before finding a frontage road I trusted.
The predicted storms happened, of course, but they were scattered. I could see cloudbursts to the south, to the north, and ahead of me. Three times I rode over wet pavement. When the sun hid behind the clouds, the wind chilled me, but when the sun came out (more and more as the day wore on), I couldn't have hoped for better riding conditions.
Rather than tiring me out, every mile under my wheels energized me. When I hit 144th Ave and turned west to leave the frontage roads behind, I could almost smell the finish. Every milepost I reached, every new road I turned on, elicited a hearty "YES!"
When I hit Thornton at mile 71, where I could catch some of my favorite trails the rest of the way home, I tasted the victory. Not even a leaking front tire dampened my spirits; I pumped it back up at mile 73, and the goop inside plugged the leak. Sprinkles ten minutes later forced me to don my rain jacket, but it stopped in only five minutes.
The sun came out in full force by the time I hit Broomfield, so I shucked both jackets for the last five miles - only the fourth time this cold-weather trip I had done so. Minutes past 5:00, I rolled exuberantly up Bellaire Ct, and pronounced the finish - and the trip - a true winner.

posted by Glen @ 7:43 PM