Kremmling to Breckenridge

Kremmling was an interesting place. Our first order of business was to find the bike shop to take care of a minor problem with the chain adjustment. The bike shop owner gave us advice on places to stay and eat. We ended up at the Eastin Hotel and Hostel, where we were able to choose between rooms with private baths and rooms with use of a bath down the hall. The two couples chose the private bath option, with Rick opting for a hostel style room. We went to yet another bar, where we enjoyed "cowboy" food. Actually, I was able to snag a huge shrimp cocktail, probably the least fat-laden meal I'd had to that point.

When we left Kremmling the next morning, we were treated to a typical Colorado secondary road: narrow, no shoulders, plenty of truck traffic. We were beginning the climb toward Breckenridge, about 70 miles of up. We were looking forward to Silverthorne, where a bike trail began which would take us into Breck, as the locals call it. It was at the beginning of this 15-mile trail that we noticed a problem with our back wheel on the tandem. A tick-tick-tick sound that corresponded with braking revealed that our back rim was literally self-destructing. On cue, it started to rain.

Since we had the condo reserved for the night, finding a place to stay was not a problem. We skipped the bike shops in Dillon and Frisco to push on to our destination, since our map showed that Breckenridge had several bike shops. They did, but they were the kind that specialized in renting bikes and selling very expensive equipment and clothing, not the kind that wanted to help long-distance cyclists in need.

Eventually we determined that our best option was to get the local taxi service to take us back to Frisco where a shop actually had a wheel that would work on the tandem. (This is not a common thing!) One hundred forty dollars later (taxi and wheel) we had liftoff. We had a great conversation with the taxi driver, a young man who had majored in criminal justice in college and started this business a year ago.

Meanwhile, back at the condo, it was decided that Roger would do the grocery shopping, since we were all craving a home-cooked meal. He braved the traffic and yuppie pedestrians bent on spending their money to go to a supermarket. Fortunately, he had completely emptied his panniers beforehand. He came home with two avocados, lemons, teabags, coffee, two pounds of shrimp, two pounds of pasta, alfredo sauce, two pounds of bacon, two loaves of bread, 18 eggs, mozzarella, tomatoes, hot peppers a large bottle of champagne and 12 beers. After we chided him for over-buying, we set about doing laundry and making dinner. It felt heavenly to have rooms in which to move about, and we were given the master bedroom suite in honor of our hard day with the wheel.

We polished off plates of shrimp-laden spaghetti Alfredo, ostensibly under the heading of "carbo-loading" for the trip the next morning to the top of Hoosier Pass,over 11,000 feet in elevation.

In the morning, I was in charge of breakfast. I microwaved the bacon (part of a cooking lesson for Roger and Chris who'd never tried that) and scrambled a dozen eggs. We had decided that any leftover bacon would make good sandwiches on the road. I felt bad that we would be wasting six eggs, since obviously a dozen would be plenty for five people.

Hmmm. After everyone had been served, I looked at the tablespoon or so of eggs that were left for the cook. The other six went into the bowl and we managed to polish off 18 eggs and two pounds of bacon! But, we had that pass to climb...

It was indeed a climb, but in the way of the Rockies, gradual enough and with breathtaking scenery that we were able to tackle it in pretty good time. We'd estimated that it may take us three hours, but we were in a photo frenzy at the top in almost exactly two. Rick had been concerned about having his equipment sagged because his gears aren't exactly low, but he made it fully laden just behind us. He'd gotten a slightly later start. (What else is new?)