Okay... I'm not sure if I'm really allowed to be on the Internet in this library, since I'm only 17, but no one has said anything, so...
JUNE 11 Colonial Creek to Winthrop
This was the big day... our first two passes: Rainy Pass (4855 ft) and Washington Pass (5477 ft).
My alarm went off at 5:30, and dad and I spent the next hour and a half getting ready to take on
the passes. Steve, Michael and Jerry had left the camp just ahead of us, but we didn't see them again until we were a good way into the climb. The road goes almost strait up out of Colonial Creek, so soon dad and I were stripping off layers of clothes, down to our jerseys, tights, and gloves (and it was 40 degrees out...). As long as I remained pedalling I stayed nice and toasty. It was only when I stopped to snap a picture or eat a snack that I got chilled. New waterfalls appeared every three minutes or so as we rode, probably from snow melt. As the ascent wore on, dad and I started singing oldies to keep us going (Margarietaville, I Am A Rock, etc.) We usually only got out a verse before running out of words we remembered.
It started to rain about 6 miles from the top, drizzling at first, and then building to a downpour. Dad rode and talked with Michael, while I plowed on toward the pass. Snow appeared by the side of the road in big dirty mounds, my jersey was unzipped to my bellybutton, and my rain jacket was flapping in in the wind, but I was still overheating. With the rain, pine trees, and fog covered mountains, I was reminded of some pictures I've seen of the Alps. When we reached the top of Rainy Pass, we all stood shivering in the rain, taking pictures of the sign and congratulating each other. Shortly, we moved on, descending into a shallow valley between Rainy Pass and Washington Pass. The scenery was, of course, spectacular. (I'm finding that I'm running out of words to describe the things I've seen. You'll just have to see the pictures... which I can't seem to load onto my blog from a library computer! It's quite irksome.) The top of Washington Pass finally came, after only a few brutal miles, leaving us with only a massive downhill, beginning with a glorious sign that read "7.5% grade next 7 miles".
The sign was true to its word, and the next 15 miles flew by. Then, when we reached the bottom, a strong tail wind carried us the rest of the way into Winthrop. During the descent the weather changed: the rain stopped, the sun came out, and the temperature rose about 30 degrees! In Winthrop, Dad and I stopped for ice cream (I had a strawberry milkshake) then headed to the store. On the way a man on a moped/mini-motorcycle passed us and shouted
"Walden?!"
"Yeah!" my dad responded, recognizing out email address "You must be Tom." Tom was a man my dad found on the Internet who often let bike tourists spend the night at his house. We picked up our groceries, then found our way to Tom's house. He let us sleep in his basement (Dad got a bed and I got a couch) use his showers and laundry machine, and fed us barbecue chicken for dinner. Over dinner we discussed Tom's own trip across the country (2800 miles across the southern tier in 23 days!) and his trips through Cuba by bike (which sounded like a ton of fun... He's gone 5 times, 3 times with his son, and says the weather is great and the Cubans are really nice.) After dinner, dad and I crashed, exhausted from our 63 miles and 2 passes.
Ciao
Seth
P.S. Hello to everyone in Ms. Greendale's class in Las Vegas, Nevada! It's great to hear your thinking of us.
P.P.S. I'm sorry if this gets to narrative-y... I'm usually writing on a limited time on a library computer. I'm going to have to get less detailed too, otherwise I'll never keep up with what's going on!
JUNE 11 Colonial Creek to Winthrop
This was the big day... our first two passes: Rainy Pass (4855 ft) and Washington Pass (5477 ft).
My alarm went off at 5:30, and dad and I spent the next hour and a half getting ready to take on
the passes. Steve, Michael and Jerry had left the camp just ahead of us, but we didn't see them again until we were a good way into the climb. The road goes almost strait up out of Colonial Creek, so soon dad and I were stripping off layers of clothes, down to our jerseys, tights, and gloves (and it was 40 degrees out...). As long as I remained pedalling I stayed nice and toasty. It was only when I stopped to snap a picture or eat a snack that I got chilled. New waterfalls appeared every three minutes or so as we rode, probably from snow melt. As the ascent wore on, dad and I started singing oldies to keep us going (Margarietaville, I Am A Rock, etc.) We usually only got out a verse before running out of words we remembered.It started to rain about 6 miles from the top, drizzling at first, and then building to a downpour. Dad rode and talked with Michael, while I plowed on toward the pass. Snow appeared by the side of the road in big dirty mounds, my jersey was unzipped to my bellybutton, and my rain jacket was flapping in in the wind, but I was still overheating. With the rain, pine trees, and fog covered mountains, I was reminded of some pictures I've seen of the Alps. When we reached the top of Rainy Pass, we all stood shivering in the rain, taking pictures of the sign and congratulating each other. Shortly, we moved on, descending into a shallow valley between Rainy Pass and Washington Pass. The scenery was, of course, spectacular. (I'm finding that I'm running out of words to describe the things I've seen. You'll just have to see the pictures... which I can't seem to load onto my blog from a library computer! It's quite irksome.) The top of Washington Pass finally came, after only a few brutal miles, leaving us with only a massive downhill, beginning with a glorious sign that read "7.5% grade next 7 miles".
The sign was true to its word, and the next 15 miles flew by. Then, when we reached the bottom, a strong tail wind carried us the rest of the way into Winthrop. During the descent the weather changed: the rain stopped, the sun came out, and the temperature rose about 30 degrees! In Winthrop, Dad and I stopped for ice cream (I had a strawberry milkshake) then headed to the store. On the way a man on a moped/mini-motorcycle passed us and shouted
"Walden?!""Yeah!" my dad responded, recognizing out email address "You must be Tom." Tom was a man my dad found on the Internet who often let bike tourists spend the night at his house. We picked up our groceries, then found our way to Tom's house. He let us sleep in his basement (Dad got a bed and I got a couch) use his showers and laundry machine, and fed us barbecue chicken for dinner. Over dinner we discussed Tom's own trip across the country (2800 miles across the southern tier in 23 days!) and his trips through Cuba by bike (which sounded like a ton of fun... He's gone 5 times, 3 times with his son, and says the weather is great and the Cubans are really nice.) After dinner, dad and I crashed, exhausted from our 63 miles and 2 passes.
Ciao
Seth
P.S. Hello to everyone in Ms. Greendale's class in Las Vegas, Nevada! It's great to hear your thinking of us.
P.P.S. I'm sorry if this gets to narrative-y... I'm usually writing on a limited time on a library computer. I'm going to have to get less detailed too, otherwise I'll never keep up with what's going on!
1 comment:
Keep on pedaling!!!! We think it's GREAT!!
The Super Star 1st
graders in Las Vegas
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