Day 4 Limon to Kit Carson

Why do we call it a lump in our throats? Surely there is a word in German for that sensation of fighting back tears so as not to look a crazy person in public. I don't know why I was emotional, but it hit me as I set my bicycle in front of the Kit Carson museum, I'd done it, I'd exercised the demons of one of my most embarrassing cycling failures. At that moment I felt like crying, as I type this tears well up in my eyes. To think about being so defeated on the first day of my first attempt at a cross country tour two years ago, and to be now standing where I had been laying in agony felt immense and emotional.

Two years ago I had ridden to Kit Carson and blown out my knee. A little before that I had tweaked my knee, but I thought myself healed and ready to roll. More than likely I would have been but I got a fit from a fella who wasn't really on top of his game at the time and what resulted was a severe strain of the MCL and months off the bike. I was genuinely heartbroken. Much had been hyped about this tour. I was raising money for a kids charity in Florida, had hyped it up on social media, and then, poof, all over.

All of this was on my mind this morning as I dusted off my windblown bicycle from yesterday's tempest. Annoyingly my legs were quite stiff and moaney. This had the effect of making me hyper paranoid and so I spent two hours foam rolling and stretching before I even left my hotel.

The first hour or so out of Limon was spent soft pedaling and applying embrocation to my legs. When I arrived in Hugo I was just starting to ease up on the warm up routine.

Hey! It's Hugo.

I wanted to grab a coffee and assess the situation with my legs. As I wandered around town I pulled out my phone to find a coffee shop. As I did a white SUV backed up and into my path. I narrowly avoided getting knocked over and we both exchanged relieved sentiments that I got off with only a light scuff to my pannier. Having a captive audience I asked the driver where she recommended for a coffee and she mentioned an antique store that served coffee just around the corner. We parted ways and I went to find my cup of joe.

I was impressed by the amount of... stuff this shop held. Floor to ceiling stuffed full of... stuff. I gave my coffee order to the lady behind the counter and sauntered off to use the restroom. What I found in there, was interesting.

Jane Fonda ain't welcome 'round these parts.

I like Jane Fonda. She's been habitually getting arrested recently badgering members of Congress to do something about the Climate Crisis. She's a rich lady trying to do right by future generations. To still be pissing on her face for some young mistakes protesting what we now know was in fact an unjustified, inhumane, and frivolous war in Vietnam seems really dumb. What could I possibly have in common with this old biddy behind the counter?

I emerged from the bathroom and used my most fake polite smile. The old lady asked me if I was the young man riding in from Limon. I said I was, and she replied that she was impressed with my bravery. She then asked where I was headed and I said Georgia by way of Kit Carson. Her face showed astonishment.

"I don't even feel safe driving that highway to Kit Carson," she said, "you must have a lot of guardian angels."

I smiled and said that I did indeed, and a fair amount of friends and family praying for my safe travels. She smiled at that and said, "I think that's a good idea." Reaching out she placed her hand on my shoulder and bowed her head to pray, I followed suit.

"Holy Father, watch over this young man and protect him on his travels across this great land you've given us. Let him see the beauty of the small little towns like ours and let the people he comes across offer him courtesy and sanctuary as needed. Amen," she prayed.

She took her hand away and said "hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," I said, "I solicit prayers from anyone who's willing to give them."

I picked up my coffee and told the old lady to have a blessed day.

What a fool I can be sometimes. A stupid sticker in a urinal and I was ready to write this woman off. These differences between us are manufactured. In the end what we all want is to get home safe and have the folks we meet in the day to day get home safe to their people as well. What we bicker over is meant to divide us so we fail to recognize the divine that each individual carries. When we get past that and really connect we can see the beauty of the heart in each person. 

Sorry, I thought I was back in Boulder for second. Where was I? Oh, right east of Hugo now.

Well, if you can ignore the constant fly bys of semi trucks you can fool yourself into thinking your the only person out there. You will see the following signs of modern man:

and

and

Eventually, you might see some adorable antelope:

and inexplicably:

Sure, why not? It seems an odd place to remind us of balance, but... Well, no, actually it is a really weird place to spray paint this. I mean, I must have been the only person to have noticed this in two years.

Eventually you'll get to Wild Horse, CO and as you look around you'll find yourself thinking who, what, and why. The where is answered, it's Wild Horse, but everything else, is a mystery.

As I stood in town here, taking this photo a strange moan like whistle noise thing was going off. It kind of freaked me out so I hopped on the bike and started out. As I continued towards Kit Carson the noise grew louder and it was then I realized that the wind was picking up and making a road sign on the edge of Wild Horse vibrate oddly in the wind. If you roll through here, don't worry it's not haunted, just windy.

A few more rollers and suddenly I was in to Kit Carson. I traveled back in time to two years ago. I passed the diner where I bought my Aunt lunch for rescuing me. There was the Inn I stayed at the night before my Aunt got to town. There's the museum where I laid down and wept because I knew the tour was done. 

But I came back. This time unbroken. I stopped in front of the museum, hopped the curb, and steadied my bike for a victory photo.

The End, for today.