Smoke reroute, Leadville detour, Climax CO, and river rafting. Great Divide: Day 15- 21

Please excuse the typos, I’m writing on tour!

Day 15: Horca, CO to Del Norte, CO

71 miles; 5,968 ft of gain

The morning in Horca was freezing. When we woke up, the inside of our tent was coated in ice from the condensation that had frozen overnight. Fortunately, as the sun finally crested the mountains, the valley began to warm, and by 8:00 AM we were packed up and rolling.

We spent the morning riding with Trey, a 59-year-old science teacher from Kansas. He originally started bike racing the divide but eventually transitioned to touring after a sinus infection changed his priorities. We spent the morning chatting about ecology and the natural environment, happily geeking out about the science of it all. Trey and Uri were stronger climbers and gradually pulled ahead on the hills while Casey and I settled into a more relaxed pace behind them.

The road alternated between washboard sections and smooth gravel as we passed many campgrounds. Being a Monday morning, many campers were heading home, and traffic was heavy. Pickup trucks blasted by all day, kicking up enormous clouds of dust that hung in the air. Breathing became difficult at times, especially for Casey, who was particularly sensitive to the dust and struggled with it throughout the day.

The entire route was essentially one long climb toward Indiana Pass, the tallest point on the great divide. We started around 8,500 feet and slowly worked our way toward nearly 12,000 feet, gaining elevation through a series of gradual ascents broken up by occasional descents.

Before getting to the summit, around noon we arrived in Platoro, a tiny village of log cabins nestled in the mountains. The approach through the valley felt like riding into a wind tunnel (with a headwind), but we were rewarded at the café with friends and food. Harry, Kiara, and Trey were already there, along with two cyclists we'd met the night before. The café had lost power and was operating off a generator. I was disappointed that I couldn't get a cup of coffee (first world problems) but sitting around with everyone and refueling on fresh food made up for it. We ordered hamburgers and took full advantage of the unlimited french fries.

Throughout the day we'd been seeing southbound racers pass through, and there's something celebrity-like about watching some of the world's strongest cyclists pass by. The current race leader, 24 year old Victor Bosoni from France, had taken the CDT hiking route the day before, so we missed him when we chose the ACA alternate. The second-place, Laurens Ten Dem, rider had blown past our camp at Red Bear the previous evening without stopping (probably to avoid having to talk to us), and the third-place rider, Angus Young, rode through around 5:00 AM while most of us were still asleep. Then, while we were at the café, the rider currently sitting in fourth place, Xavier Chiriboga, stopped by. Known as "The Farmer," he's from Ecuador and seemed focused entirely on the race, sitting quietly inside with headphones on. We admired his bike like paparazzi.

One of my true highlights of the day came much later near the top of the pass. I was sitting on a log taking a break when Meaghan Hackinen rode past. As she passed, she encouraged us, saying, "You're almost to the top!" We cheered for her, and Uri shouted, "You rock!" Without missing a beat, she replied, "You guys rock!" and kept riding. I was fan-girling pretty hard. Meaghan is incredibly talented and currently the first-place woman in the race, so getting that brief interaction felt pretty special. Update: she set the women’s record!

Back to the route: this region has critical gold and metal mining history from the late 1800s until an environmental cleanup in 1990s, making it now a superfund site. We had been warned not to drink any water until reaching Del Norte because the area was contaminated. Some streams were stained orange, and active open pits were on the top of the mountain in Summitville.

Reaching the "top" of Indiana Pass wasn't quite the end. Beyond the summit were several rolling hills we call "nubs." Just a couple little nubs. Yet those nubs always manage to kick us while we're down. I was completely spent by the final steep climb, huffing my way upward with burning quads and every ounce of energy I had left. Cue the disco music again. Casey continued struggling with breathing issues and even experienced some heart palpitations (though we suspect her decision to drink Monster energy drinks may have contributed). Uri was thriving. He loved the steady climb and working toward the goal of getting to the top. I felt similarly for most of the day until those final climbs finally emptied the tank.

Then came the reward of 20 glorious miles of descending. The first 10 miles wound through the forest on perfect gravel roads, smooth and flowing enough to feel almost effortless. It was one of those dreamy stretches where your mind goes quiet and you simply ride the downhill roller coaster flow. Then the gravel turned to pavement. After days of rough roads and constant rattling, the pavement felt like silk and butter beneath our tires. I don't think I've ever appreciated a paved road more.

We finished the day at Mystic Hostel, a donation-based haven for Divide riders. By the time I arrived, my face was windburned and red, my eyes felt exhausted, and every inch of me and my gear was coated in dust. I rolled into the hostel like a car sputtering into a gas station on fumes.

As soon as I walked through the door, though, there were Pat and Isaac offering popsicles. Few things lift my spirits more after a hard day than arriving somewhere with a bed, a shower, and people genuinely happy to see you. Isaac had reunited with his friend Austin, who had been dealing with tire issues, and so the six of us gathered around the table, eating, laughing, and swapping stories late into the evening.

Gosh the divide has some of the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. But these moments keep making it so worth it.

Day 16: Rest day (accidental)

Uri and I claimed the loft bed while Casey took the leather pullout futon. Pat slept in a small bed tucked into a nook, and Isaac and Austin shared the largest bed. Somehow, all four sleeping spaces fit within the tiny open floor plan. Despite finally having a roof over our heads and looking forward to the rare instance of a bed and the ability to sleep in, it turned out to be one of the worst nights of sleep on the trip.

Around 12:30 AM, I woke up to the sensation of something crawling across my face. I clutched the movement in my hand and then screamed, tossing the critter and then flashing my phone light on an enormous spider with a bulbous abdomen and impossibly long legs. The spider was so huge and fat that we didn’t want to squash it for fear of leaving a huge smashed mess all over the sheets. Instead, I trapped it in a jar and dumped it outside. Even after it was gone, I couldn’t sleep again, having phantom spider sensations on my body the rest of the night, the creepy walking feeling engrained across my cheek.

We attempted to sleep in but never quite managed it. Pat rolled out at 7 AM, determined to tackle a 100-mile day. Isaac and Austin headed to the bike shop around 10, while Casey and I stayed behind and cooked a dozen eggs to satisfy the endless hunger that bike touring seems to create. I dropped my bike off to have the derailleur checked out, hoping to solve the shifting issues from my bike crash. Trey was there too, having busted a spoke on the descent.

With nowhere else to be while the mechanics worked, Uri and I settled into Up Top Café for most of the morning and early afternoon. We downed multiple coffees, caught up on internet tasks, checked messages, and enjoyed the rare luxury of sitting still for a few hours without the pressure of needing to pedal anywhere.

Grocery store run at Lowe’s Market (not the home improvement store) was fruitful, literally, and filled with fresh fruits and veggies. This was followed by picking up my bike from the shop— it was manually adjusted and bent, a new derailleur required when we got to Salida.

Then we hung out! Harry and Kiara joined us at the Mystic, and we convinced ourselves to stay the night again and tack on our 19 miles to the next day. It would make for a 72 mile day and 5,000+ feet of climbing, but it wouldn’t be worse than the Indiana Pass. We would take the rest and recovery and pull out the effort tomorrow, a problem for our future selves.

Now that there are more services and more water, I look forward to stopping and smelling the flowers more. To pause at the rest stops, take a cup of coffee, have an ice cream. It was different than trying to push through the food desert and get to the next location that would have water. Now we could, hopefully, be a little more laissez-faire and enjoy the little things more.

Day 17: Del Norte to Salida (smoke reroute)

90 miles; 2717 ft of gain

We rolled out just after 6 AM under an unsettling sky. The sunrise glowed a deep, concerning orange through a thick veil of smoke. Wildfires burning in Utah had pushed smoke all the way into Colorado, blanketing the state in haze. More than 60,000 acres had already burned, and the fires were still growing.

After 20 miles, we reached La Garita and stopped to reassess. The tiny town had little more than a trading post, but it offered fresh food, coffee, and homemade pastries. We settled in around a table with Harry and Kiara and discussed our options. The Air Quality Index had climbed above 100, a level where prolonged exposure can be unhealthy, especially during strenuous exercise. We had already been coughing on the ride into town. The landscape was muted beneath a gray haze, and the mountains that should have dominated the horizon were barely visible. With nearly 9,000 feet of climbing awaiting us over the next two days on the Great Divide route, we decided it wasn't worth the risk. Instead, we opted for a faster road route to Salida: 90 miles with only about 2,000 feet of elevation gain, allowing us to reach cleaner air and indoors much sooner.

The reroute still required crossing Poncha Pass, which rises above 9,000 feet. The climb was long but steady, made more challenging by intermittent headwinds and crosswinds. At the summit, however, we were rewarded with one of the best descents of the trip. More than ten miles of smooth, winding pavement dropped into the valley below. With a strong tailwind at our backs and perfect road conditions, we flew downhill, all of us topping 40 mph as the road snaked through the mountains.

At the bottom, the winds intensified. The crosswinds were so strong that they physically pushed my bike sideways, at one point shoving me toward the road and passing traffic.

Our destination was the home of Casey's friends, Cam and Carmen. Casey had met Cam through climbing. They welcomed us warmly, making us feel at home immediately. After settling in and sharing a beer, we headed to High Side for trivia night with two of their other friends. Pat joined us as well, and the evening quickly turned into an enjoyable social night. We feasted on fries and wings, lost everything at trivia, and later wandered over to The Vic for a few rounds of pool (Uri and Pat vs two stone-faced, cold dudes) and more beer. By the time we finally called it a night after 10 PM, we were exhausted but happy and excited to spend the next day exploring Salida.

Day 18: Rest day (real) in Salida

After several long days in the mountains, we finally enjoyed a proper rest day in Salida. We slept in without setting alarms and didn't make it out the door until around lunchtime. There was nowhere we needed to be, and it felt wonderful to move at an unhurried pace.

I wandered around alone in the morning, with my first stop being Topo, a cozy coffee shop filled with colorful artwork, plants, and quirky décor. It perfectly matched the feel of Salida in general. The town celebrated bikes, skiing, and the outdoors everywhere. The downtown was full of independent coffee shops, bike stores, pizza restaurants, and people strolling with bikes or dogs. Huge cottonwood trees shaded the parks along the river, where families relaxed in the grass and kayakers floated by. There was an unmistakable sense of joy throughout the town.

One of the highlights of the day came when we wandered into a local art gallery. I picked up a book that immediately caught my attention, and while flipping through it began chatting with a man nearby. It turned out he was the artist whose work filled part of the gallery and the author of the book I was holding! Jonathan Stalls. We talked for quite a while about walking, travel, and Colorado. He was incredibly kind and even offered to reach out to friends around the state who might be willing to host us during our ride. I bought his book about walking across the United States with his dog. When you talk to strangers, wonderful things happen.

As seems to happen everywhere along this route, we kept running into our bike friends. Harry, Kiara, and Pat appeared downtown, and the five of us (now with Uri too) headed to an old-fashioned pharmacy for ice cream (Yes, that’s right) before meeting up with Casey.

That afternoon, Cam treated us to something completely outside our comfort zone by taking us rafting on the river. We paddled through Class III and Class IV rapids, something neither Uri nor I had ever done before. We were jittery with nerves, but Cam was great at guiding us through all of it! The river and weather were perfect, and this was definitely a highlight of the trip!

Back at the house, we made a big dinner of pasta, salad, and garlic bread before lingering around the table into the evening. It was exactly the kind of rest day we needed, giving our legs time to recover while reminding us that bikepacking isn't just about grinding out miles. Don’t get me wrong, I love the cycling. But these moments shared with camaraderie and friends are so heartwarming that it makes all the tough moments worth it.

As we looked ahead, we decided to make a change to our route (hehe). The official Great Divide would take us through a stretch of high desert, but another option led through Leadville, Buena Vista, and Radium Hot Springs. None of us felt particularly attached to following the route exactly as mapped, and Cam suggested we take this alternate for the views. We aren't route purists, and these mountain towns sounded far more appealing than another stretch of desert. I know we would miss Boreas Pass, but we hopefully would have a great alternate plan!

Day 19 Salida to Leadville, CO

72 miles; 4803 ft

We had a slow, relaxed morning before finally rolling out around 8:30 AM after enjoying coffee, eggs, and leftover pasta for breakfast.

At first we followed the main highways, but the combination of fast traffic and narrow shoulders quickly became uncomfortable. We deviated for a more bike-friendly route. It added both mileage and elevation, but the tradeoff was worth it. We found ourselves on quiet, rolling paved roads with enormous mountain ranges rising on both sides. The views were breathtaking, and the roads were peaceful with little traffic.

By lunchtime, we rolled into Buena Vista, and despite its seemingly small size, it was busy with people and traffic. We didn’t see much of the town, but we beelined for pizza before setting off again for the final push to Leadville.

The remaining 40 miles originally followed busy highways, but once again we chose quieter backroads instead. Once again, that decision meant extra climbing and extra distance. By this point, I was struggling mentally. Every time we rerouted to avoid traffic, the route became harder, and it was difficult not to feel discouraged knowing we were voluntarily making an already challenging day even more difficult. At the same time, I knew it was smarter to avoid the cars and have the quiet forest roads and trails through the woods. Ultimately, I’ll admit it was worth it.

So, the day became progressively tougher as we climbed steadily toward Leadville's high elevation. Breathing grew noticeably harder. Uri and I were definitely feeling the altitude, while Casey seemed almost untouched by it and rode strong all day. It’s funny how my good and bad days are exactly the opposite of Casey’s.

We finally rolled into Leadville around 7 PM. I was disappointed to arrive too late to visit Melanzana while it was open, something I had been mildly looking forward to. Thankfully, Uri's high school friend Connor welcomed us into his home for the night. We unloaded our bikes, ate through a huge pile of the food we'd been carrying to lighten our packs, showered, and started a load of laundry before crawling into bed.

It was a quick turnaround. Arriving in town late always leaves me feeling a little rushed. By the time we finish eating, showering, and taking care of chores, there's hardly any time left to relax and process before it's time to sleep and do it all again. I had wanted to see the town, but I was too fatigued to leave the house. I'm hoping that over the next few days we can start reaching town a little earlier and have more time to enjoy the places we're riding through.

Day 20: Leadville to Kremmling

94 miles; 4,865 ft of climbing

Although we had a comfortable place to stay in Leadville, it wasn't a particularly restful night. At over 10,000 feet, both Uri and I struggled with the altitude. We spent much of the night taking deep breaths, feeling like we could never quite get enough air. Casey was feeling fine through it all!

Leaving Leadville meant immediately climbing Fremont Pass. We pedaled through the historic downtown first, passing colorful murals and rows of old storefronts. I would have liked to go to a cafe if time allowed, but we had a big day today. Leadville also felt smaller than I had expected, considering it’s fame for the trail race. Courtney Dewalter even lived in town a few blocks from Connor!

The climb up the pass was steady and surprisingly pleasant, with a wide shoulder giving us plenty of room away from traffic. Near the summit we passed the Climax Mine, one of the world's largest molybdenum mines. Molybdenum is a metal used to strengthen steel, and demand for it exploded during World War II as it became critical for manufacturing military equipment, aircraft, and armor. This mine is still one of the largest sources of molybdenum in the world.

From the summit, we enjoyed a fast descent that became even better when it connected to a beautifully paved bike path winding toward Frisco. Smooth pavement, gentle yet sweeping curves, towering pine forests, and no cars made it one of the most enjoyable descents of the trip for me.

We spent some time in Frisco, which immediately felt larger and livelier than Leadville. Restaurants, gear shops, and cafés lined the streets, all framed by spectacular mountains. It reminded me of Saranac Lake in New York. We stocked up on groceries at Walmart before sitting on the sidewalk to eat, our fancy Frisco dining. Buying groceries instead of eating out has become one of the easiest ways to keep this trip kind of affordable.

From Frisco, we rejoined the Great Divide route, which continued on more excellent bike paths through Silverthorne before climbing toward Ute Pass. The climb was also long but the views were striking!

On the route, as we had about 20 miles left, we saw a giant water cooler and stopped to refill, only to find our buddy Matt had been here. He wrote our names on it with a note to “Keep Going!” I love our friends!

The final 20 miles, however, were some of the hardest of the trip, making Matt’s note very timely. A brutal headwind slowed us to barely 4 mph. I would glance down at my bike computer and see 75.1 miles. I'd tuck my head, pedal as hard as I could for what felt like forever, then look again...75.6 miles. It felt like we weren't moving at all. To make matters worse, smoke from the Utah wildfires drifted back into the valley, giving everything a hazy orange tint.

We finally reached Kremmling just as the sun began setting. It was a very residential, rural small town slightly off route. It didn’t have the charm of a tourist-y town, but it had all services that you could need.

Hungry and (me) exhausted, we pulled into a gas station for the quickest calories we could find. Comparatively, across the street, Pat was comfortably dining at a Mexican restaurant with fresh food, and we learned he had also found camping with showers at the local RV park. Meanwhile, we were eating convenience-store junk food before heading back out to camp on public land. He was definitely living a little more luxuriously than we were, and I wanted to try to embody that philosophy a bit more moving forward.

Around 9 PM, we finally found a campsite overlooking the Colorado River as smoke continued to roll into the valley. By the end of the day, I felt completely depleted. Riding huge mileage day after day while surviving on gas station food wasn't sustainable for me. I needed better food, more recovery time, and more time to simply breathe before getting up to do it all over again.

Day 21: Kremmling to Steamboat Springs, CO

73 miles; 6,616 ft of gain

The night couldn't have gone much worse.

Uri accidentally punctured his sleeping pad, leaving him tossing and turning on the hard ground. Sometime during the night, I rolled onto a tube of rash cream, which burst and coated everything. Then, around 4 AM, I woke up coughing as thick wildfire smoke settled into the valley. I couldn't breathe well, and I never really fell back asleep.

By morning, I was exhausted and emotional. I didn't feel rested, I didn't feel fueled, and I wasn’t ready for the massive climb in the smoke today.

Still, we packed up and rolled out around 8:30. Casey lingered behind to enjoy a slower breakfast while Uri and I pushed ahead. This morning we had 37 miles averaging roughly 150 feet of climbing per mile, which is the most intense climbing for that sustained distance that I think I’ve ever done. We climbed steadily for hours as the day grew hotter.

The headwind also made the downhill sections feel like work. You had to pedal hard going down a road that looked so fast otherwise. At one point an older woman riding simply looked at me and only said: "Demoralizing."

The scenery, at least, never stopped delivering. Wide open valleys and distant and near mountain ranges.

During one snack break, we met a rider who had started racing the Great Divide but decided to scratch. He told us about the Great Basin shortly north, where racers had recently been caught in violent electrical storms. One rider reportedly felt static electricity crackling through his beard, while others spent days dragging their bikes through thick clay mud that completely clogged their wheels. Our future problem!

Throughout the day, many of Great Divide racers streamed past us. Every passing rider offered encouragement, smiles, or cheers. I especially loved seeing so many incredibly strong women out there. One woman even rode with a small dog perched comfortably in a backpack on her back.

Near the top of the climb,we found Pat eating lunch and joined him for a short break before tackling another seemingly endless series of rolling climbs and descents along the ridgeline. The constant rollers felt even harder than the main climb itself, likely because of the mental and emotional drain of not being able to end.

Casey eventually caught back up with us near Lynx Pass. Without cell service, coordinating had been nearly impossible, although we had started experimenting with Apple's satellite messaging feature. While we waited, a kind man driving by even offered to search farther down the road and let Casey know where we were.

Once over the pass, our moods improved dramatically. Long descents finally arrived, carrying us through open meadows and cow pastures where herds of cows with their babies lazily wandered across the road.

Rather than stopping to camp, we made the last-minute decision to push all the way into Steamboat Springs, and it turned out to be an amazing decision! As the sun set, we followed gorgeous singletrack weaving around a chain of lakes. The sun hung low in the sky as a giant orange sphere, reflecting off the water while we rode through tall grasses. It was breathtaking.

We flew down the final pavement into Steamboat Springs as it got dark, knowing a hotel room was waiting for us thanks to Pat! After a quick grocery run at Safeway (and seeing a bear run across the road!) we collapsed into bed.

Today is a great example of how the highs are really high and the lows are really low. Ultimately, it makes for an epic adventure.