Lakes to Mountains Tour

The Trip Hangs in the Balance

Wed May 14: Sterling - Ft. Morgan CO: 48 miles; scattered clouds, 73 at 3:30; 9:35-3:20.
The best one can hope for is to finish a trip on a high note, making it easier to consider another trip in the future. I haven't always reached that goal, and last night's debacle threatened to taint my last week.
Today took care of it: a headwind that kept my speed to 12.5 mph, the trip's second flat - and people that make trips like this so memorable.
The day got rolling at Smith Alternative High School. The small facility catered to kids overwhelmed by the large, mainstream high school, such as the student who'd just moved from Julesburg (where the class sizes run 2-10 students per class). the kids listened attentively, and several came up afterwards to thank me for my visit.
Sharon Norton (my teacher contact) and a few students urged me to stop in Merino on my way south to see the woodcarver. It took a long hour to bike there, but would have been worth a detour. I pulled onto the short main street and asked a man in a blue workman's pullover, "Can you direct me to the woodcarver's studio?"
"That would be me! It's right in here." Brandon Rhea led me into his workplace, quite the contrast from the nondescript facade outside. Colorful parrots, bronze busts, calliope horses, and more filled the first room. The second room hosted his most recent efforts. "I've always wanted to carve marble, so when I had the chance to get a couple of 30,000 pound blocks from Marble, CO, I jumped at the chance." He'd already carved one block into a jumble of winged angels, while the second block had just begun taking shape.
The back room contained one of his latest sculptures, a whimsical bronze statue based on a poem, The Dream Keeper. "Sometimes, though, my favorite pieces are works I do for my kid for school projects. This, for instance - they were studying sea life, so we made it out of recycled materials." He pointed to a turtle made of cardboard, floating among computer-paper-and-weed seaweeds, above a tin-foil sea bottom.
We talked about finding your calling, your niche in life - and about inspiring our next generation. "Sometimes you may not know you've instilled that spark," he reflected. "But years later, they may act on that seed you've sown. You'll likely never hear about it. You just have to trust that it will happen."
Before heading out, I gave him a copy of WOW! What a Ride. He thanked me sincerely, then looked more closely at the cover. "Ohmigosh! You ran with the Olympic torch! I ran with it when it came through Sterling!"
I next stopped at the cafe next door for a hot buttered blueberry muffin. One customer came up to ask about my trip, and the waitress and the other patrons in the cafe all wished me well.
My speed improved marginally as I headed to Brush for lunch. As I rolled up to the first cafe I spotted, I felt the familiar - and dreaded - thumps that indicated a rear flat. First things first, and that meant eating. When I finished, I asked the waitress if Brush had a bike shop, since fixing the flat would take my last spare. She asked someone else, who said no, but Fort Morgan (my final destination, ten miles distant) did. I thanked her for the information.
A moment later, I heard a slight commotion behind me. "Telling him it's in Fort Morgan doesn't help if he can't get there," I heard someone say. The next moment the speaker appeared at my table, asking if I needed help. Just a flat, I explained, telling him I shouldn't have a problem fixing it and making the next town.
Once in Fort Morgan, I first stopped at the newspaper offices. I remembered the building from our stop there in 1994, when I had to bully the paper into covering our walk. (Don't ask.) Next stop: the bike shop to top off the air in my tire. When I introduced myself, the shop owner said, "Ah! this must be you."
He handed me a flyer the library had crafted - a photo of an undulating road winding through a verdant forest, with a pink bikini photo-shopped onto the road's shoulder. "I'll be there tonight to see you!"
The library beckoned next, where I introduced myself to Kathy and Lanny (who'd designed the flyer). Besides the flyer, they had my books perched on top of a display case containing a diorama of a mountain scene with two cardboard bicycles on a road with miniature litter scattered about.
My final library talk went well, despite DVD problems. Ten people enjoyed my tales of the road, both by foot and bike. The library provided refreshments afterwards, while a few attendees checked out my laden bike.
And a final chuckle, especially for people who own cats. At the motel, the owner's cat resembled one of my own, with it's black coat and white belly, nose, and paws. When I asked its name, the clerk replied, "Diablo Retardo."

posted by Glen @ 7:48 AM