catching up in pinedale

we made it into the thriving ‘burb of pinedale yesterday, schlepping over 58-miles of chunk and gravel and eroded downhills and then through 25-miles of wyoming’s finest head winds.

the day before, after a particularly vertical ride, scott and i got to the strawberry creek shelter with a decision to make: do we keep riding another 23-miles to the next campground? or do we call it a day and make the shelter our overnight home?

there were two issues influencing our decision. first, there was no water source at the shelter and second, the skies on the easy side of union pass were looking malevolent.

we bantered and reflected and decided to move towards a creek about a half-mile away and continue riding if the water was a wallowing hole for cattle, or filter and return to the shelter and spend the night.

the creek ran clear and cold. it addressed our hydration and cooking needs. a half-hour after gathering water, torrents of rain dropped from the sky, the dust-covered sage turned a rejuvenated green and our decision-making process was affirmed.

a lone bikepacker sauntered up to the shelter before dark and was invited in, but after 20-minutes of 60 db snoring by scott, opted to pitch his bivvy and sleep outside.

do you know the difference between “white noise” and snoring? white noise puts you to sleep. snoring keeps you awake.

coming down from the strawberry creek shelter looked easy, on a map, with lots of downhill to lessen the plague of mosquitoes through the mosquito lake landscape. from there, it was a clear shot to pinedale…fingers crossed for tailwinds.

the mosquitoes of mosquito lake do not know the rules for mosquitoes. those rules are: come out at dusk and dawn or on cool, cloudy days, buzz around, annoy, and do it for the remainder of summer.

life is good for those little fuckers.

instead, the mosquitoes of mosquito lake have no restraints. they are thick in the sun, they are thick in the shade. they can easily track down a plodding bikepacker, and if you think you can escape with a prolonged, speedy downhill, the rocks and ravines of the road will remove that as an option.

there was a lot of swatting and cursing and it seemed anomalous for insect behavior, but once free from the culcidaen bloodfest, the reality of our downhill set in: embedded rocks and ruts along a 10-mile stretch of road wherever a year’s worth of snow run-off and rainfall moved down a path of least resistance, and then there were washboards that literally shook your core.

after a few miles of that, your shoulders start to complain and then the neck and fingers and wow, isn’t this fun? you question what and why you are doing this and just when bleakness presses down on you, the landscape changes, the verdant forests are behind you and you reach pavement.

i literally got off my bike where gravel gave way to asphalt and cursed the dirt, while welcoming tarmac back into my life.

i missed you, sweetie.

and all was well, save for a landscape that showed your path 5-miles distant, and a headwind that bent the sage tops horizontally.

those moments provide you with two choices: ride or not ride ad if you ride, the zen of pedaling takes over. you know you have a long way to go and you know the physical cost and so? you just pedal. you release the angst and find a gear that moves you forward without excessive energy and that tells the wind: “there you go…not a worry”.

introspection and reflection on a bike is the best.

ten miles out of pinedale, we turned away from the highway and through sheltered rangeland and into pinedale. while riding, an old-timer pulled up alongside me in his truck and started jabbering. i couldn’t hear him so i stopped and he began a litany on why we should take the bike path and stay off the highway. like he was the captain of the toothless bicycling ethics police.

so pinedale it is and weather is gonna be sour. i am tying to convince scott that two days rest will serve us better than pushing on through chores and recovery and then getting back on the bikes: recovery and sleep as weapons.

bike path? fuck you…we’re riding the divide, buddy!

i think we are on the same page.

allen and susan will be here this afternoon and i am bringing my bike into the shop for a once-over. sam, and all his trail knowledge, leap-frogged into colorado and is meeting his wife in colorado springs.

meanwhile, i am doing some “preventive hygiene and posturing” to address a couple of saddle sores and trust me, it isn’t a pretty sight.