Day Fifty-Three - To Hell You Ride.

This morning was an early start, as a always the way when you're camping. My first thought of the day was how ridiculously cold it was, which it was. By 7:30 I'd completely packed up, and headed down to Sonic again, who's breakfasts are comparably cheap compared to similar places. I opted for the breakfast burrito with tater tots, like little hash brown nuggets. I've decided 'tater tots' should only ever be ordered by an American, saying those two words in my english accent just makes me sound ridiculous.

I was off by 8:30, and onwards and upwards, literally. Out of the 67 scheduled miles for today, 54 of them were uphill, with only a 13 mile downhill from a mountain pass as compensation for my hard work. It wasn't as steep as I'd thought it would be, and for a lot of the time I maintained a speed around 11/12mph. There were about 7 or 8 miles that I'd class as steep, miles where I was pinned in my lowest gear and plodding upwards only just faster than walking pace.

I stopped at a little shop at a place called placerville, 13 miles from Telluride, at the bottom of my 13 mile downhill. I spoke to two cyclists here who had come down from Telluride, and were quick to tell me how steep the uphill was. They also told me that they had been at a bluegrass festival there all weekend, and so camping in the park would be fine. Great, I thought. It was while I was stopped here that I noticed my back tire. It was completely bald, and my inner tube was punctured. Quite frankly I was gutted, I had come this far without a puncture, and getting one now was a kick in the teeth. I was more worried about my tire though, Having spent this entire trip going past shredded car tires at the side of the road, I didn't want that to be me in the middle of the desert. I pumped it up as best I could, and started my final ascent of the day. It was nowhere near as steep as I was told, except for maybe the last couple of miles. It did take a while though,
I had to keep stopping to pump up the problematic tire.

Eventually I arrived in Telluride, a place that I was quickly told is not named after hell, but after Tellinium (something like that) that was mined here. Whatever, my map says it got my nickname because in it's hayday it had something like 24 saloons and brothels in a tiny area. Another urban myth is that skiing was invented here by scandinavians (apparently) who wanted to get down the mountain faster than the others on payday. A famous bank robbery also took place here, were someone just waltzed in and took $10,000 (in the 19th century) unchallenged.

Enough trivia. It became obvious that this place was indeed the Monaco of the ski world, for the high rollers and celebrities as it had been described to me. There is a weird right of way system that is the exact opposite to normal, pedestrians priporitise over bikes (of which there are a LOT), who prioritize over cars. There are lots of expensive restaurants, and even more expensive hotels. Camping it was then.

When in Rome, I managed to spend $95 in about 10 minutes. $65 on a tire (which is extortionate, but it's meant to be the American Schwalbe Marathon, so fingers crossed), and $30 on a BUFF!!! I managed to find a shop that sells them!! (Again, for an extortionate price, but I wasn't in a position to argue It's a bit smaller than I remember them, but then again I have grown considerably since I last had one).

I went to my campsite, paid my $15 for my spot, had a cold shower ($3 for 5 mind of hot water? I don't think so), and went out to find food. I ended up in a little bakery place, where I had a Calzone pizza. I've decided that olives should be left out by default, and if you want them then they can put them in. Nobody likes olives...

Anyway, I must go, as it's getting dark, and I fear I'm outstaying my welcome with my phone charger in the wall. Tomorrow I'm going to Dolores, the end point on this map, perhaps further if there is a better place further up. Watch this space.