Man, I have not been keeping up on the blogging. I apologize. This med school thing is getting to me. It's only been five weeks and I've already lost the ability to hold a normal conversation, which is mostly do to my inability to remember everyday words.
This day started out early. I was up and at 'em as soon as I could get moving. With a quick thanks to Gary I was out the door.
It was hard to get the bike going. I could really feel the day before, bot mentally and physically. I decided to just work it out the best I could. All the other days had started out pretty rough but had usually gotten better after a bit. This day would not be the same. The long 18-22 hour days of riding were really taking their toll on my body and even worse, they were wreaking havoc on my poor mind.
The climb out of Del Norte (I still don't know how to say that!) starts out pretty easy. Then it gets rough. The challenge of this climb is only compounded by the elevation, I believe the highest on the divide. I got really tired while riding, the kind of tired that makes you cry. (Not that I'm admitting to it.)
I started walking some of the steeper sections when I heard a familiar voice speaking a not so familiar language. It was the Eurotrain! They were down a rider and they looked good but I could tell they were feeling tired. After a short conversation about melting handlebar grips and some hand shakes, they were off. I figured I was now dropped back out of the top ten but I was still very proud of where I sat. I was determined to try and keep the Eurotrain in range and hope that I could get my body to come around.
The climbing continued, and so did the walking. I finally reached the top. I thought it was the highest point and I would get to do some descending to Platoro. I was soooooo wrong.
The rolling hills and rough road continued FOREVER until I reached Platoro. I don't really think that the road was rough and steep so much as I was just blitzed out of my mind from the day before, and frankly the whole race. I was sunburned, 25 pounds lighter, over heated, and under motivated.
I finally rolled into Platoro. I loaded up water, ate till I almost puked, and resupplied. It was here that I picked up a long sleeve denim shirt to keep the sun off my arms. and torso. This shirt ended up working pretty well for the rest of the race. Although, I must admit I looked like a wondering hobo (very fitting indeed!).
Little children were scared just at the sight of me... I now see why.
Getting to Platoro had take most of the day(I think I got there just about 2pm?) and I was just plain whooped. I mounted up all my energy and thrust my self out into the heat of the day. It was in the mid 90's and this Alaska boy was melting.
The onslaught of dirt road-age seemed to be never ending and I granny geared my way up even the slightest inclines. Looking back, I am embarrassed at how slow I must have been moving. Also, I'm incredibly proud I suffered through and kept going.
After the dirt road ended, I turned onto some pavement... A welcomed relief! The relief was short lived though as I looked up to see and ENORMOUS five mile climb. It didn't help that I was loaded down with 6.5 liters of water and tons of food.
The pavement slowly passed as I road on and on and on. It seemed like this hill would never end. (And for quite some time it didn't!) I finally saw the crest of the hill after about 45 minutes of granny gear grunting. I decided to let it ride and actually puts some power into the pedals. I was surprised to find that I actually still had energy after the suffering of the day.
I actually still felt good after cruising up the hill so I kept riding hard. I looked west to see an incredible view of rolling/mountainous terrain that was bathed in this surreal golden light. Sometimes the wilderness just has a way of masking even the most brutal misery. I then realized that I was feeling better because the temperature was dropping.
I resolved to ride into the night very late. This would allow me to start a cycle of sleeping during the day and riding at night to avoid the brutal divide heat. I continued to give myself a pep talk about how smart I was to come up with this plan all evening until the sun started to go down.
I turned a corner off the pavement and hit the dirt road that would take me into the Brazos and thus put me in the final state of the Divide. I reached down to turn on my EOS light and realized it was missing. WHAT?!?!?!?! I foolishly only had one light and it had somehow worked it's way off during the rough roads of the day.
I decided I would ride as late as I could and hope for the best. I even rigged up my rear blinking light to face forward but that really didn't help matters. I went down a few times in the dark, passed the state line (WOOOHOOO!), and went down a few more times.
That last fall left me on my back, in the middle of a dirt road, in the middle of nowhere, staring up at an incredible view of the clear starry sky. I would have slept just like that had I not been in the middle of a dirt road. I pushed on until I found a perfect out cropping of pines, I cleaned up with baby wipes, and crawled into my bivy.
I started eating a burger and drinking chocolate milk while I was propped half way up against a tree. Then I remember nothing. I woke up in this same position the next morning: a burger in my left hand, half consumed chocolate milk in my right hand, and a mouthful of half chewed bacon-cheese-beef-goodness. I didn't even spill my milk! Even though this was one of the shortest days on the Divide, I apparently had earned every last inch of ground that I covered.
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