It looms above.

Day two back on these wretched beasts. We woke up and headed over to the bathrooms where we were very generously given a gallon ziploc bag of fresh cherries. Downed a fair number of those and cleaned off the pots and pans, filled up the water bottles, and clambered up the dirt road to put on some fresh miles. Our first stretch was mostly downhill and we hit 46 going down one short grade. The morning was shaping up nicely already when we had a six to seven mile downhill stretch into a town called Cotopaxi. That was a blast. It's early in the morning so little to no car traffic and a full lane to sweep down the grade, curving down through the canyons. The road was never steep or curvy enough to put you on edge but just fast enough to be a grand old time. Awesome.

Our timing was perfection as we arrived at the Cotopaxi general store mere seconds before they opened at 9 AM. Our downhill section plopped out right at Highway 50 and the Arkansas River that runs alongside. Beautiful. The cliff faces rise a ways off and the water tumbles through the channels and the banks and the road follows the river's every move. We saw rafters and kayakers throughout the day and got excited when the river churned up and started to really put up some froth and then talked about going rafting after this is all done. The water is a dazzling blue and the cliffs stand in shades of tan and brown and dirt.

We did some fairly easy miles and arrived in Salida, a very cool mountain town. This is the kind of stuff we've been waiting for. We veered off the 50 and rode into the historic downtown, a small grid of brick buildings and boutique shops and cafes. We perused an outfitters store and then restocked at Safeway. Then, Absolute Bikes. That was a cool shop. They have vintage bicycles hanging from the ceiling – road in one section of the store and mountain in another. Also a very enticing bargain bin we all stayed strong. Filled up the tires with the floor pump, made some conversation about the trip, and headed over to the First Street Cafe. The buildings in these kinds of towns are really cool. You can tell the hardwood floors have been there for decades and the worn moulding of the doors and the windows and facades have a real charm as well.

Ah, but things can only be charming for so long. We enjoyed our time in Salida but perhaps we stayed too long as the wind had picked up strong upon our exit. What followed was a miserable ten miles. The average was reduced to 9 and 10 and the grasses whipped from side to side on the shoulder. The wind is an interesting foe. There is no defeating it. There is no fighting it. You will never enjoy satisfaction. You will never best it. The most you can hope for is progress at a rate fast enough for you to keep from throwing your bike down at the side of the road and kicking it out of illogical frustration.

And why is there wind? Because she's a witch? No, because there's a storm a'brewing. We saw lightning strikes off in the distance and a heavy blue wall coming for us. Not light blue. Not periwinkle. Not baby blue. I'm-going-to-mess-you-up blue. Dark. Thankfully we arrived at our campground just in time. This was a far more positive RV park experience. We paid seven dollars each and escaped to the community room to wait out the storm. You had to hold fast not to be blown over. It was a beautiful place to wait out the wind and some light rain and soon it was sunshine and white clouds. The weather is fickle out here. We had a look at the satellite TV and were browsing, browsing – TRIUMPH! The tour! They had Versus on their satellite package and we tuned in just in time to watch the end of Stage 9. Fantastic. We cooked dinner and lounged about and finally set up camp some five hours later. Tomorrow – Monarch Pass.

Colorado is a pretty cool place.

The Arkansas.

At Absolute Bikes, looking upward.

Don't want to tour on that thing.

At our campsite.