Guffey to Canon City to Pueblo

By morning, we were eager to leave the hospitality of the Guffey community. We had a patched-together breakfast in the "luxurious" cabin where Roger and Chris stayed. Oddly, there was no running water, there were antlers hanging everywhere, and prominent among the seating options was an old wooden wheelchair, but there was a coffeemaker and microwave. We drank the coffee in shifts, as there were only two mugs, but by then we were a family and had learned to share.

We rolled out of Guffey without a backward glance, partly because as we left we had a view of the hill we had climbed the previous night. In our buffalo-induced stupor we had just kept pedalling. As someone mentioned later, we were all afraid that if we spoke, we wouldn't have been able to go on. In any case, it turned out that the hill was a 7% grade! Difficult at any time, but darn near impossible at the end of a 70-mile day that included the highest pass any of us had ever ridden.

At this point, with very few exceptions, we did get a fairly good downhill run eventually. After a second more civilized breakfast, we coasted into Canon City. Canon City, (which should have a tilde) is home to the Royal Gorge. The gorge is a 1,000 foot deep canyon that at its narrowest point is only 30 feet wide. There is a two-hour train ride into the Gorge that we wanted to take, so we all met in the municipal park and cycled on to the train station just a block or two away. Providence once again intervened, and our plan of taking the 12:30 train and then pdealling to the next town had to be amended. The 12:30 was sold out, so we bought tickets for the 3:30 and decided that the little motel across the street looked like a good bet. It was.

After meeting the owner, who hailed from Warsaw, Poland we paid our very reasonable rate, took showers, settled in and met to walk back to the train station. The train ride didn't disappoint. There is a lot of history contained in the canyon, ranging from an abandoned hotel to warming huts that were placed there in the early 20th century for the railroad workers. The reamins of a wooden aquaduct that once brought water to the town lined the canyon in various stages of decomposition. The tour was narrated by a lady who sounded as if she'd lived through a lot of the history; it was a relaxing way to spend the afternoon.

Afterwards, we found a decent Chinese restaurant and enjoyed another genial meal. Roger, Chris and Rick went in search of a bar for a nightcap and OLN to watch the Tour de France stage; Bob and I opted for ice cream at a Baskin Robbins we'd spotted earliier. The next morning, we set out for our last day of riding. (Hard to believe?) We headed for a Fifties-type diner we'd seen the day before. Just after we got our coffee and tea, Roger and Chris came in to join us. They had visited the attached convenience store the night before to buy milk for their cereal and found the diner so pleasant-looking that they decided on breakfast out. Three of us feasted on a specialty: French toast covered with warm caramel sauce and sprinkled with chopped walnuts and bananas. Roger treated himself to eggs Benedict. It was a fitting beginning to our last day.

We had decided ahead of time to deviate from the Adventure Cycling route on this day, based on the advice of a native of the area we'd run into a couple of days before. Rather than wind through several small towns on narrow shoulderless roads, he recommended State Route 50, which was about 10 miles more direct, graded like an interstate and with an eight-foot shoulder. It was the best advice we got.

The road and the day were just made for the tandem. Fortified by the French-toast extravaganza, Bob and I cranked out the final 40 miles of the trip and arrived at the Marriott in Pueblo exactly two and a half hours after we started. The pleasant ride ended at the most luxurious accommodations of the trip (not counting Dan and Sally's wonderful new guest quarters in Lolo). Some days before, Chris had found out about a special the Marriott in Pueblo was running for the Fourth of July. She, Rick and Roger were planning to use Pueblo as a layover day, so we all made reservations at a great rate and checked into the Marriott for some R and R.

The 400 thread-count sheets, huge rooms, ample breakfast buffet and overall wonderfulness of the hotel and the town were the perfect way to end the trip.