Wednesday, July 10th, 2024
Fowler, CO to Colorado Springs, CO
99.76 miles, 3937 ft elevation
Just shy of a century! No, I didn't bike another block because centuries are a made up concept. (I'm coping.)
Today was my first time noticing a significant change in landscape with the geography, as well as a “first” for me in recent memory having never been to this part of the country before. The sandy hills of Colorado, the cacti, the blue ghost of the mountain lurking just ahead -- these are all new for me. The only downside was the abundance of horseflies!
They bit us through our sleeves, through our gloves, crawled up and down our legs by the droves. I even removed a black and yellow insect with pincers from the inside of my jersey when I felt a sharp sensation. I soon realized that to stop and swat these pests away would only prolong my time in unhappy company, so instead I took to brushing my legs as I pedaled.
Regarding insects, there were massive green and pink grasshoppers, apparently called Lubber grasshoppers, on the side of the road. JD and Rebecca even spotted a desert fox.
This part of Colorado is truly desolate. Our original lunch spot was a United Postal Service office around 60 miles into our route. However, when we arrived, we discovered that there were neither tables nor shade. So, we bit the bullet and biked another ten miles to find our first town and dined at a park. Cleo wasn’t doing too well around this time. She had some symptoms (shivers) of a heat stroke.
Riding into Colorado Springs this afternoon, the air was cool, the mountains sat in the distance, families were congregated in parks, kids running through fountains, the possibility of happiness tangible, easy. It's hard to believe that we’re around 7,000 feet in elevation now.
The dryness of the mountain air combined with the sunscreen melting into my eyes meant I was sniffling and tearing up the entire way over. Snot running down my face, I wondered, "Should I pull over to have a mental breakdown? You okay?" I was fine, just showing all the physical symptoms, the visual output of being otherwise.
Dinner was with Mark, an MIT alumnus, and his wife Rachel’s family. There, we were introduced to the phenomenon of the Frito Pie, a bowl with a bed of Fritos, then chili and the fixings. I ate two bowls and very much enjoyed the white chicken chili. Thank you Rachel and Mark for the hospitality and a taste of the cuisine of the West!
Then, we headed off to the Rodeo, a massive event where lots of the competitors were hoping to qualify for Nationals in Las Vegas in just a week’s time! And what a spectacular it was.
We only caught the last 45 minutes, but we made the most of that time. Not long after we found our seats, two cowgirls entered the arena, riding tandem on a horse. The cowgirls had a foot each on a horse. They were riding through the dirt arena, then through a fire stake. I was thoroughly impressed.
How does one not lose their mind seeing this? If someone gave me $100,000 to throw the dopest party in the world, I’d put on a rodeo.
Next, we watched a sport called barrel-racing, where cowgirls had to circle three barrels, placed in triangle formation, in the shortest amount of time. Spectating this and watching the world champion’s hope of defending her title get squashed in just 17 seconds when her horse slipped around the second barrel gave me a sense of the rush and exhilarating stakes. of competitive, professional athletics. Even more impressive was the fact that most of the competitors were college students. D1 Rodeo.
The last and most anticipated event was bull riding. The riders were tying and fixing one hand to the saddle. When the buzzer sounded and the gate opened, the bull began kicking like it had a spring on its behind. The kick was almost entirely concentrated on the back. The animal just kept kicking kept kicking. Wicked whiplash. None of the riders were able to hold on for more than 4 seconds. One rider got his back stomped on. Another was thrown from the bull's back back into the pen with a thud. It’s a dangerous sport, and we joked on the van ride back that the reason there is no women’s division for bull riding is because women aren’t stupid enough to ride bulls. This all said and done, I find the sport fascinating because of the underlying acceptance that you cannot tame an animal that wild. Yet, you attempt for those sweet 6 seconds. Someday (maybe) I’d like to give the sport a try, though the mechanical ones have already given me grief.
My favorite story of sportsmanship is from this world. One of the greats, J.B. Mauney, broke his neck on a black bull named Arctic Assassin last year. He kept the bull that retired him, saying something to the effect of “He retired me, so I’ll retire him.” No hard feelings. JB takes care of him on his ranch in Dallas. Arctic is a big dog who likes back scratches.
At the end of the rodeo, the entire stadium went black. The spotlight shined on a military serviceman waving the American flag. Then, a cowgirl riding a horse decked out in an LED American flag made circles through the arena. Red fireworks went off. As we exited, we appreciated the outfits of the rodeo. The cowboy boots, the denim skirts with the corsets, and the awesome dresses. I saw at least ten Jolenes today.
this is so cool