all the world is an rei

i waited as long as i could for the showers to end before setting up my tent at the blue river campground. with a belly full of pork chops and black beans, sleep began soon after my head hit my pillow.

with morning’s arrival, i did what i have for 35 days: i packed my stuff up and began a new journey. i breezed into silverthorne, determined to hit up the rei for some bike shorts, mindful that finding anything in a new population center can be frustrating and time-consuming.

enter bob.

i followed the bike path and as often happens, someone approached on his road bike and started asking questions. he introduced himself as bob and told me he is leaving at the end of august for a vacation in whatever the former czechoslovakia is called these days. my only question for him was: “where is the rei?”

bob said, “i’ll take you there.”

once he got those skinny tires going, i felt like i was in a break-away. we dashed around and through traffic and suddenly, rei’s golden arches appeared like a post-rain rainbow…oh my bad, that was a mcdonald’s.

a half-mile later, i was perched on the front porch of the rei. i shook bob’s hand and our journeys through life separated again.

of course, the rei didn’t have the size of shorts i needed, but they have a lot of other shit i don’t need. i shopped a bit, got some dehydrated meals, and hit the red bike trail leading into keystone

bike trails between silverthorne and breckinridge are thick with people. e-bike riding rubes with their battery assist, throw caution to the wind with high-velocity descents and emboldened and unannounced bike lane maneuvers. they are a danger to society,

at least society as i think it should be.

breckinridge was like every other ski resort town on this trip: overpriced and detached from plebeian reality. boutiques? check. yoga pants on an 85° day? check. bikepackers eager to start the climb up to boreas pass and be away from all the goings-on? check.