1985 cross-country bike ride from San Diego to Boston
Day 54—Saturday, September 24—Lagunitas Campground to to Hopewell Lake
37 miles
We left Zlagunitas with a hard frost on the tent, made sure we had enough filtered water, and then generally descended with ups and downs along the way through pinion pine forests, aspen stands, and high mountain grasslands. Instead of descending dramatically to much lower elevations we stayed up at 9,000 to 10,000 feet with long views into the high desert valley where you would find Santa Fe, Taos, and other towns and cities along the western slope of the Sangre de Christo mountain range (I think!).
The gravel road emptied on to a paved highway and the trail followed a five-mile steep upward climb to Hopewell Lake. My brother Paul was interested to know where my 2022 long distance bike route would cross over my 1985 route. I am pretty certain that this five mile stretch is where the paths converged but will have to double check. When I passed through here in 1985 there was seven feet of snow on either side of the road which had just opened.
Hopewell Lake campground provided some potable water and with the shortness of the day’s travel, Eric and I set up tents for a nap in the afternoon sun and made an early dinner. A few campsites away was a group of 15 riders supported by a van and truck (riders carried no weight): the organization supporting these bikers was Bike Dreams and a fully supported Great Divide Mountain Bike Ride costs about $10k or about $200/day.
Another northbound rider joined us around dinner time and shared the cost of the campsite. Rolphe, from San Ignacio (near Durango), was riding a 10 day loop.
Day 53—Friday, September 23—Platoro, CO to Lagunitas Campground
53 miles
Before any light in the sky I looked out the window of our cabin and saw the familiar canopy of stars that heavy rain clouds had concealed. By sunrise, despite massive puddles, we knew we could get back on the road. After packing up we visited the Gold Nugget Cafe and consumed a delicious breakfast, said our goodbyes, and started out.
Our main concern was the condition and quality of the roads after so much rain but for the most part they were sticky and not slippery unless we hit a low spot that was rutted and had deep mud. To some degree trucks had helped dry out the surface; and at the same time created ruts that cause your bike to go sideways.
The road to Horca (“orca”) followed the Conejos River so was generally downhill with some climbs to get over shoulders of mountain ridges. Anglers we’re out in force since the Conejos River is a terrific habitat for trout which has been rehabilitated over the years.
We reached Horca and stopped at the only store in town which was a gallery and craft store featuring locally made goods. We picked up a soda and a couple of Amish fried pies (kind of like a hostess fruit pie with filling of indiscernible fruit lineage but yummy all the same).
We got back on a paved highway to climb over Las Mangas Pass. We followed this road until the next dirt and gravel road we we reached after 37 miles. A few miles prior to this turnoff I got a yellow jacket in my helmet: I have had bees in my bonnet before and this one delivered a pounding sting above my left eye near my hairline or what’s left of it. It ached for the rest of the day but felt fine the next morning. Injuries have been few!
After two days of resting we decided to push on and shortly thereafter passed into New Mexico. We climbed up Brazzers Ridge and stayed up high along the ridge which was spectacular. The road degraded to a rocky and eroded ditch which required some pushing.
At the top of the ridge we passed through a thick forest and the road turned into a muddy swamp since there was no way for the water to drain. It took some bushwhacking to get around that mess.
Eventually among the lovely aspens we made to Lagunitas Campground named for a lot of little natural lagoons or small ponds. We had water, we had a campsite. We shared our site with a Continental Divide Trail hiker guru who has done all the major U.S. hiking trails in his relatively short life. He left very early the next morning before I could get his pic.
Sun was down; day over.
Saturday, September 24—Boston, MA (in spirit)
Today is the official Rodman Ride for Kids
In Massachusetts today, hundreds of riders will follow a local route for 25 or 50 miles to fundraise for MA organizations that help support children.
And I'll be riding right along with them, continuing my extended Rodman Ride along the Great Divide and fundraising for Apprentice Learning, an organization that provides real-world workplace experiences that ignite a sense of purpose for Boston middle school students.
Just a few more donations will help me reach my fundraising goal!
Days 51 & 52—September 21 & 22—Platoro, CO
0 miles
We’re holed up in Platoro for a couple days reading from the Lodge library, chatting with travelers and hunters, taking naps, making food, etc. Feels kinda luxurious having a metal roof over our heads for a few rainy nights and days. Thinking that on my 1985 bike trip I would have soldiered on through the rain but this trail is different: dirt and gravel roads can become impassable and washed out, not to mention camping at night in the mud. Maybe older, maybe smarter, and maybe just adapting to the conditions presented to us. Taking what the road gives. In this case, “taking" means waiting, even though we’re itching to get going.
Personally dealing with some disappointment in not being able to make the U.S./Mexico border: I have realized this for a while, but the closer I get to 9/30 (when I need to start heading back to Denver) I have to remind myself “it’s the journey, not the destination.” As much as I believe this, I have pangs of wanting to complete the trail: I will have to continue another year, as many people do. Had I left a week or two earlier, if weather and mechanical troubles had been different, it might have been possible.
These pangs are overcome by excitement for the upcoming wedding in Denver, especially after seeing Erickson and Katie in Frisco.
Platoro: a community of about 110 old and new cabins established in the early 1880s sometime after gold was discovered in CO in 1859, and ten years after the Summitville mine opened. It provided much needed housing for the Summitville miners as the town expanded and contracted based on local gold strikes. One discovery was large enough to create expectations that Platoro could grow to 5k-10k people, but the mine played out with little expansion.
Platoro has always been a remote town—guessing that is part of its allure—and the cost of goods (to this day) needs to account for transportation.
Local artist assembling twisted pieces of pine to resemble (quite well) an elk, hog, horse, heron and swan.
Debbie, proprietor of Platoro Valley Lodge, is a gem who makes everyone comfortable, let us use her laundry, and shared snippets of her life. She lives here for the summer. Dexter enjoying the fire.
Weather looking good for departure tomorrow and hoping the roads start to dry out. In New Mexico the trails can be like peanut butter which is not a surface any of us wants to engage!
The sun came out for a bit this morning and cast a full rainbow over the town, suggesting that there may yet be a pot of gold around here somewhere.
1985 cross-country bike ride from San Diego to Boston
Day 50—Tuesday, September 20—Del Norte to Platoro, CO
50 miles; 6,000 feet of climbing
Ike and Autumn, our hosts through Warm Showers, kindly let me and TJ sleep in their backyard. Autumn is a mental health counselor in Del Norte. Ike is a jack of all trades: artist, welder, farmer, landscaper, etc. (He also has 4 tons of cannabis biomass since the crash of the cannabis market with the legalization of pot.) Other things I learned about Ike: he did a bike trip from San Diego to Brazil, survived a sinking sailboat off of Baja, was rescued by an Indian freighter, and then traveled the rest of the trip with a chicken.
We were feeling a little apprehensive about the day ahead up to Indiana Pass—at 11,900 ft, the highest pass on the ride. The guidebook forewarns that you will never forget the 12-mile climb 😳. Why do they say this? On the other hand, previously forecasted storms had dissipated so we had a window of opportunity to take on this iconic pass.
We rode a paved road out of Del Norte, a very interesting community with a younger generation really trying to make a difference. Ike was instrumental in starting a farmers market and other events. This is a small town reinventing itself.
Once out of town the road started climbing and eventually turned to gravel and went straight UP! The grade must have been more than 15%. It was grind time: first gear at 3 mph for the next four hours. Someone asked me what I do to “get in the zone” so the time passes more quickly. I don’t have a system other than to get off and walk/push if I drop below 2.5 mph, stop and take a breather or eat something, or get some water and take time to look around. I wish I could say I get transported to a blissful place with the repetitive pedaling and arrive at the top refreshed in what seems like minutes…but I can’t. It’s a grind—rewarded by the sights and vistas on the way up and the knowledge and gratitude that my legs are up for the challenge, even if I am the “greatest SLOW on earth."
The way up included passing through Aspen groves whose colors range from bright green to blazing yellow. Trail water angels topped off our bottles and encouraged us.
The pass itself had no sign so you’ll have take my word for it that I made it…see some pics below. By this time Eric and TJ were probably 20-30 mins ahead so I enjoyed the rest of the day riding solo. At the pass it started to rain and hail so I didn’t spend a lot of time up there! And the temperature was dropping with a storm moving in.
After Indiana Pass, we descended to the Summitville gold mine which is a superfund site—meaning extremely contaminated with leaching natural minerals but also chemicals used by mining companies to extract gold. The historic town of Summitville was little more than some wood ruins.
Started climbing again to a high meadow before descending to a low point (more rain had me sheltered under a pine tree) before climbing up again to Stunner Pass before dropping into Platoro. An exhausting day of 9 hours of riding including breaks (averaging just over 5 miles an hour!)
Arrived in Platoro about an hour after TJ and we found the Gold Pan cafe where I had the special T-bone steak (when was the last time I had a steak?)
We got a very rustic cabin (formerly from the mining community) to avoid the rain. Slept like a log.
