TransAm Day #32 Guffey, CO - Alma,CO

TransAm Day #32

June 26, 2018

Guffey, CO - Alma,CO

55 Miles

Ride Time 5:37 Hours

Tour Total  Miles 2401

details at: https://cyclemeter.com/4b2d99e24f1383f2/Cycle-20180626-0638-44529

I slept well last night on the lower bunk in the back of Bill’s charming shack. I forgot the name he gave the place. Steve met me at the Blue Moose last night right before closing. He had cell phone service but I didn’t. Good thing for WiFi. 

At 6am, when I got up, it was 48 degrees out. I was on the road shortly after 6:30. I took more pictures of Bill’s creations before leaving. I neglected to mention that Bill is featured in the book ‘Weird Colorado’. Apparently my friends Robin and Duke were recently in Guffey visiting Bill. 

I had to dig out my long finger gloves and down vest. I waisted time stopping to put this stuff on and then later take it back off. My leg warmers, Bouré sweater, and rain jacket shell have now become standard in the morning. 

I can definitely feel the high-altitude. I had a headwind plus a climb to cross 9404’ Current Creek Pass, which is just to the northeast of Dick’s Peak. Once over the top, I began to see snow covered mountains. A randomly placed bicycle 76 route sign appeared in the middle of nowhere, which I tagged alongside #DudeRobot. I passed several prairie dog roadkills today. 

Last night at the Bull Moose the locals told us a story about a unicyclist who came through Guffey a couple years ago, ostensively doing the TransAm. He was challenged trying to pedal up the steep hill into town, and accepted a ride in someone’s pick-up truck. 

I climbed to 9,500' twice before breakfast. Coming into Hartsell I saw Buffalo grazing alongside the road. I stopped at the Highline Café and Saloon, where a cowboy out front recommended the huevos rancheros, which I ordered and enjoyed. I later noticed that the cowboy was wearing a holstered six shooter, slung around his waist. 

After breakfast, I continued north into a murderous headwind combined with a slow steady ascent. I fought to maintain six miles an hour. I stopped at one point and noticed a mailbox on a wheel, that rotated with the wind. The ability to turn probably kept it from being blown over. 

I rode a twenty inch shoulder with a six-inch drop off to the right. There was quite a bit of car traffic. To use Steve’s language, ‘The fucking cars, man!’. I have to be really careful when stopping to take photos or crossing to the other side of the road. The twenty inch shoulder, became fourteen inches and then six inches. The roaring wind was ringing in my ears. When I'm fighting a headwind I keep my head down low, staring at the shoulder or white line. I'm unable to look up and admire the scenery. I try to settle into a doable gear, and it becomes drudgery.

I passed two TransAm east-bounders whom I called out to. I asked where they were going and the woman replied, ‘Yorktown’. By her accent I presume she was German. They were enjoying a tailwind, and I understand why they didn’t want to stop. I’m running out of #RustyCrank coins anyway. Trying to get from Hartsel to Fairplay was ridiculous. It took three hours to go sixteen and a half miles. 

Why are mountain people so eccentric? They put the most ridiculous things in their front yard. 

There were enormous gravel operations between Fairplay and Alma. I’ve noticed how dusty the mountains are. My bike is dirty. My water bottle teets are covered in dust. The whole corridor between Fairplay and Alma had gravel operations. There were majestic mountains in the distance, but the immediate experience was unpleasant. I enjoyed a bike path from Fairplay to Alma, even though it was thirty feet to the right of Highway 9. It was nice to get away from the cars, or as Steve would say, ‘Those fucking cars!’.

It was apparent, that I wasn’t going to make it over Hoosier Pass today, which I need to clarify is 11,539’ high. My Denver team was urging me to stay in Alma, and go to the South Park Saloon, which at 10,500’ is the highest saloon in the U.S. Unfortunately the saloon is closed on Tuesday. I elected, nonetheless, to stay in Alma and camp in the city park. I’m editing this laying in my hammock, right beside the Platte river north middle fork, where I guess I should go bathe and wash my clothing. 

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