Ordway, CO

Our "launching" from Pueblo went off without a hitch. There were some conventions at the Marriott, and this morning several conveners in suits and ties expressed their envy at our trip. One agreed to take our picture so that we have a record of our beginning. And we were off.

The level terrain and a slight tail wind made it easy to cover miles in no time. We actually reached Ordway a little before noon today, with the hubris of believing that we might just as well continue to Eads instead of breaking that distance over two days. We were under the misconception at the time that Eads was only about 40 more miles. A nice gentleman in the Bits and Spurs Cafe, where we had lunch, informed us that it was actually more like 60. So we rethought that plan.

Ordway has become famous, at least in cycle-touring circles, for a woman named Gillian Haggard who received the 2006 Trail Angel Award from Adventure Cycling. She has opened her home to cyclists traveling through for several years, and we thought about that as we came through. We knew, however, that her house had burned down in a huge fire back in May and that it might be difficult for her to continue her tradition of hospitality. We weren't counting on it, in other words.

When we left the cafe, we headed down Main St. toward the library, to check email and to ask about a private campground we'd seen on the map. As we pedaled slowly through town, a tall woman in what looked like a police uniform stopped us and asked where we had cycled from and if we were planning to stay. We told her where we were headed and as Bob was explaining our plan, he mentioned that we had heard of Gillian Haggard. At that moment, I happened to notice that the name tag she wore on her Department of Corrections uniform said "G. Haggard." She said, "You don't need the library to find me. I tend to accost you people."

She quickly gave us the lowdown on finding her place. There is a modular home almost finished on the lot, and a FEMA trailer she stays in until she can get the house settled and set up. She practically insisted that we stay, telling us that the master bedroom in the house was all ready for cycling guests, including towels, toiletries, etc. She was on her way to work, but everything is unlocked and she even encouraged us to use her laptop or WiFi to do our Internet tasks. It is really difficult to describe this conversation. Over the years, we've learned that accepting hospitality (or used soft drinks) from people you've never met almost always turns out well.

Imagine if you will, our city friends, just leaving your house unlocked and encouraging strangers to go there and use your facilities while you're at work. That's the prairie for you. We had read about her situation both in Adventure Cyclist and on a blog, so we knew that doing some tasks in exchange for the place to stay was appreciated. When I asked, she said that we could wash the windows, since that needed doing and oh, by the way, there were a few groceries we could pick up if we were going to the store. Almost apologetically, she said, "You'll have to supply your own food. I know how you people eat!" She pressed her small grocery list and a $20 bill into my hands, jumped into her car and left for work. Oh, there were two last details: there is a gosling in a Rubbermaid bin in the living room (don't ask!) and if we're walking around the property and see a really big snake, kill it because it's begun to eat goslings. Needless to say, I won't be walking around the property.

So, we've met the gosling, Gillian's dog (whose name we forgot to ask), washed the windows, grocery shopped and are watching some huge storm clouds roll by. It doesn't look as if we'll actually get rain here the way we did in Pueblo yesterday, but the clouds and thunder gave a nice show. At the moment, Bob is mixing some new trail mix, and I am ready to shower. The geese outside are honking at the storm, the gosling in the living room is cheeping away, and the dog has stopped looking desperate to come in, since the storm seems to have passed.

This is almost as surreal as Guffy, but in a good way. There are some things that only make sense on a bike trip.