Boulder CO to Laramie WY

About a week before I left for the USA, I made a drunken impassioned speech about road biking (and biking in general) to Michal. I can’t remember exactly what I droned on about but it was sufficient enough to influence Michal to buy a brand new Tricross a few days later. In sober reality, the emotions I felt on the ride from Boulder to Laramie are exactly what I was blathering on about to Michal.

Leaving Boulder at 8am in glorious sunshine, I set off through town, past University bikes onto Broadway then directly north towards Lyons following the route I’d taken with John the day before. Tackling long distances is as much a mental challenge as it is physical. I like to break a ride up into thirds, do 40 then take a break, eat some food, do another 40 and have lunch and a longer break, then the last 40. This worked pretty well in Ireland, but the ride to Laramie made me realise it was gonna be a different story in the USA.

The first 35 miles or so were pretty good, great road surfaces and plenty of room, nice accommodating traffic and a very gentle descent. The whole time the Rocky Mountain National park was to my left, with the snow caped peaks glinting in the sun. I stopped at Loveland and stocked up on water and snacks, had a black coffee and surveyed the route whilst sitting in the sun for a while. By this time it was getting pretty hot and I made a big mistake, leaving my sun cream behind on the sidewalk after topping up.

Loveland to Fort Collins was pretty fast, still feeling good and the weather still looking great – no wind, no clouds in sight. About 10 miles out of town Highway 287 becomes single carriage-way and more rolling with the first few long inclines appearing. The change in terrain brought a change in weather – a strong head wind which was to remain until I reached Laramie 85 miles later. What clouds were now appearing were blowing by so fast that any respite from the sun would last only a few seconds.

Beyond the initial climbs out of Fort Collins the 287 follows a long valley floor, penned in on either side by high hills - a perfect natural wind tunnel. The road followed this valley for about 20 miles, totally straight with no protection from the wind or sun whatsoever. I was crawling along about 10 mph, headache from the sun, split lips from the wind and watering eyes. The valley was straight out of a western, where you could imagine a long wagon train snaking out and a thousand Cheyenne Indians lining the cliffs either side waiting for the pefect ambush.

My next scheduled stop was going to be at Virgina Dale, about 50 miles from Laramie, but I was running low on water and food so decided to stop sooner at the Three Forks. On the map this place appears like a town but the reality was just one run down restaurant and few farm buildings. Stopping here was the best decision of the day. I stocked up on water, had a good meal and rested about an hour or so in total before heading out into the sun again. I didn’t realize at the time but this was the last place I’d be able to get food and water for the next 60 miles to Laramie.

By now I was really beginning to struggle with the effect of the sun and altitude. Simple operations such as calculating the mileage to the next watering hole or working out how many more hours riding took total concentration and many retries. That combined with the fact I’d got no phone signal, had minimal spares and hadn’t seen or heard from Kelv and James for 60 miles, I was really beginning to wonder whether I’d make it at all. It was at this point that the immensity of the country really hit me. I literally had no choice but to carry on regardless. There really is no where to hide out here. I now look at what Kelv did in the first few weeks in a totally different light. I switched on my ipod to find a world for my mind to escape to instead of it running into overdrive muddling calculations about time, distance, water and weather, not to mention the seemingly never ending straight road ahead.

Holst’s The Planets wasn’t the best choice, with the Mars piece being the first track played the terrain just seemed even more colossal and I even more insignificant. Another hard 10 miles or so later I reached Virginia Falls, 4 miles from the Wyoming border. What I expected would be another sorely needed rest place materialised as a bordered up shack at the foot of another long climb. I sat down for a while to ponder the situation. I’d got 50 miles to go and a foreboding wall of black clouds closing in from the south. On the plus side, the scenery here was amazing, with wind blasted stone stacks and little streams running through canyons beside the road. A change of music took my mind back to Brighton and I jumped back on the bike and carried on towards the border.

Kelv and James finally appeared when I was 90 miles out of Boulder and about 2 miles from the Colorado / Wyoming border. I stocked up on water and food and discussed whether to pack up or carry on. It was roughly 45 miles to Laramie with still no sign of the wind changing, the terrain still going up and the storm closing in. We decided I’d carry on riding whilst they’d tank it to Laramie and sort out accommodation before heading back to check how I was getting on. The mental boost it gave me knowing they were in the area was unbelievable. There was no way I was getting a lift home.

The next 45 miles I experienced something I’ve only found on the bike a handful of times, when the mental and physical combine to make you draw strength from unknown reserves. This is what I was trying to convey to Michal those couple of weeks ago. Its an insane feeling. Reaching the border gave me a another huge surge of energy. I split the remainder of the route into mental blocks. 20 miles from the border to the settlement of Sidings – like riding home from work. Then another 10 from Sidings to Red Buttes, like the fast ride out to Newhaven, then another 5 to Laramie, just like Llanwnog to Caersws and back.

The miles started to decrease slowly still with the headwind not letting up at all. By this time it was easy to calculate – 10 miles an hour and 45 to go, 4.5 hours. Still a long long time in the saddle after leaving Boulder 8 hours earlier. I started to fade a little again and the signs ‘Strong Winds Ahead – next 10 miles’ didn’t help matters, plus it seemed the storm was about to finally catch up with me. Then I remembered what a chap back at the restaurant at Three Forks said – it was uphill all the way to the border, then the a descent down to Laramie. A couple of miles later the 20^th incline I reached the peak of finally proved not to be a false summit.

The plain below dropped away with a 70 mile view in every direction. In the middle was Laramie basking in the early evening sun. I can’t quite put into words the feeling I had seeing Laramie, other than I cried, then started to roar at the top of my voice whilst accelerating up to 35 mph for the first time in 10 hours of riding. I The moment needed a change of musical pace on the pod and Luke Slater was to be my sound track for the last 30 miles into Laramie. Averaging 20 mph down into the plain I could visibly see the miles clocking up on the cyclometer which seemed to make me ride even faster. I could have thrown my bike in the air and screamed I was so filled with adrenaline knowing that I was going to do it, to ride 120 miles in the hardest conditions I’ve yet experienced (and I’ve no doubt at all that there is more to come on this trip, if not worse). What Kelv has achieved so far is not to be underestimated at all and he deserves a week being lorded around in a $50,000 SUV. James appeared in the truck with 7 miles to go. Like riding from Llanwnog to Newtown. Easy. He knew I wasn’t getting in.

Reaching Laramie I stopped for a moment to get a picture of the bike with the city limits sign. Looking at the bike there glistening in the sun I can honestly say I am totally in love with it. No other sport brings out such raw emotions in me. To achieve something like that under your own power, battling and overcoming mental and physical barriers, you almost become one with the bike. Like its an extension of your body. You feel it, you know its strengths and weaknesses, you know it will save your ass and won’t let you down if you respect it. I think this is what I was rambling to Michal about J And I’ve not even started about what its like to ride in the mountains yet…