Twelve miles into headwinds must have been enough; I turned away to clean and lube my chain, and when I returned to the road, I found the following:
We waited by the roadside for a moment, but it seemed all the friendly tourists were in overloaded, out of state Subarus; stone-faced locals were flying solo in Ram 3500s and Chevy somethings. We fished; no fast forward button today.
Something will have to happen for us to get to Denver in two weeks for Lael to catch her flight. We can’t enjoy the sights the way we want and catch the plane.
Luckily, Chico Hot Springs was 3.4 miles away. A $6.50 admission to the spring-fed pool is valid until 11PM and includes access to blue-collar food and drink specials, an evening reggae show, and bottomless wi-fi.
Prime camping a quarter mile away on a grassy knoll– this is too easy. This is some kind of bike trip.