What is the definition of a farmer? Answer – a man out standing in his field.
Studying the horizon along State Highway 23, north of Cimarron, for a lunch spot, let alone a tree, to provide our riders with some shade, a veritable grove appeared in the distance. Pulling in I discovered it hid an old farmhouse and a bunch of ancient and modern crop equipment. And so lunch preparations began.
Half an hour later in pulled Kyle Copper driving a John Deere green monster (apparently it was a “sprayer”). Welcoming us he explained the farmhouse was his grandparents until 30 years ago when they moved to Cimarron. Now they store some of their machinery there for use on the family’s 19,000 acres (30 square miles!) of corn, wheat, barley, hay, and milo (sorghum grown for animal feed). Now that’s quite a field to stand in!
Kyle confirmed that Western Kansas is suffering from drought and that the farm has not had a 1 inch rainfall since last August. Instead they rely on an aquifer to draw the water that a irrigation machine spreads on the crops as it makes its massive circles. Then he was off to tend to the family fields while the riders munched on chicken salad sandwiches before hopping on their bikes and spinning down the road to Clark’s Drug Store and Ice Cream Parlor in Cimarron for old fashioned milkshakes.
Before cleaning up after lunch we peaked into an old barn and disturbed an owl. It was a wise decision indeed (and a hoot!) to choose the Copper family farm as our shady mid morning lunch locale.
The NAE clients and crew have now left the mountains and our rest day in the unfortunately dull and economically depressed "Steel City" of Pueblo Colorado behind. Well at least there was no shortage of good Mexican food to be had there!
Our eastbound venture is now following the historical Santa Fe Trail towards Kansas, albeit in scorching heat - it was a near record 103 F this afternoon. The Santa Fe Trail, which ran from Boonville, Missouri to Santa Fe, New Mexico, was begun in 1822 to carry travelers to the unsettled territories of the west and southwest. Tonight we're staying just outside the town of Las Animas (The Spirits) in drought stricken southeast Colorado, not far from the main line of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad (AT & SF or Santa Fe, as it is better known) which was our companion for much of the day. When the rains are better, this area is renowned for ranching and wheat production, but yesterday a handful of the counties we are passing through were approved for federal relief due to the drought conditions.
Fortunately for our cyclists, its always easy to find ice, and today's pedal through the heat from Pueblo was made just a little easier when our on the ball Tour Leader Paul appeared at kilometer 120 to refresh our bottles with COLD water. Aaaahhh!
Cycling across any continent requires guts and determination, in a word, “grit.” Two of the NAE clients who embody “True Grit” are fellow Ontarions and close friends Shirley Davey and Daphne Tonellato. While well past their athletic prime, cycle touring and a spirit for adventure keeps these 2 fine ladies young at heart.
Today, after a 2000’ descent out of Telluride in the cool early morning air, followed by a 2000’ foot climb to Divide Pass, Shirley and Daphne and our other gritty cyclists sped down into the gateway town of Ridgway Colorado and the Uncompahgre Valley. Jim Norman set a personal best, clocking a speed of 77.4 km per hour on his computer during this picturesque descent.
Surrounded by the majestic snow-capped peaks of the Cimarron and San Juan Mountains, Ridgway marks the northern entrance of the scenic San Juan Skyway, a crossroad for commerce, transportation, history and scenery. The Skyway, one of the All-American Roads in the U.S., winds through unmatched scenery — a photographer’s dream.
Founded in 1891, Ridgway’s park and surroundings were locations for the movies “True Grit”, and “How the West Was Won”. Those two titles are an apt synopsis of Shirley and Daphne’s journey since the NAE left San Francisco 3 ½ weeks ago.
My wife and I have visited the southwest a few times and the stretch along southeastern Utah’s Highway 191 holds special memories for us. So it was a great pleasure and privilege when our Tour Leader Paul McManus told me yesterday morning “you get to ride all day today” from Monument Valley to past Aneth through Mexican Hat, the Valley of the Gods and Bluff.
We’ve stayed in Bluff 3 times where we met Faye Belle a true Wild West character who runs an RV campsite, dairy bar, and an amazing Navajo jewelry pawn shop. Now aged 77 Faye has lived here all her life and is known for hundreds of miles around. Her mother was a midwife in this area delivering over 3500 babies, and every year we receive one of Faye’s Christmas letters.
You can imagine what a delight it was to ride up to her door on my bike, give her a hug, and wander around her amazing selection of turquoise and many other semi precious stoned jewelry, some old some new, all of it stunningly beautiful. 30 minutes later I cycled on, armed with a few gifts for my wife and our household. Some of our other tour riders also met Faye and chuckled in camp yesterday evening about what a character she is.
Now we have traded in the red rocks of the desert for the pine and spruce forests, the swift flowing stream of the Dolores valley, and the cooler air as we start to climb up into the Rocky Mountains. It’s been one day of sublime beauty after another with more to come for all those who took the great decision to ride the North American Epic.
Riders of the Purple Sage is Zane Grey’s best-known book. Originally published in 1912, it is critically viewed as having helped shape the genre of Western novels and movies. In the early 1970’s the
New Riders of the Purple Sage were a psychedelic country rock band whoseanthem was a tune called “Henry.”
To this folklore we can now add the
NAE Riders of the Purple Sage, a group of 20 cowpokes and cowgals who continue to wind their way on 2 wheels across the Wild West. Their colorful spandex blends in with the many hues of the canyons, mesas and buttes they are spinning through and the bedazzling array of turquoise jewelry to be found in the trading posts along the way.
Yesterday’s 101 km ride took us to the Navajo National Monument which is among the most beautiful ancestral Puebloan sites in the southwest. The centerpiece of this serene and mystical place is Betetemkin, an ancient village of adobe walled homes and plazas set in the side of a canyon where it has laid virtually undisturbed since being abandoned in the thirteenth century.
As the wind blew through the Pinyon Pines it seemed to whisper “stay here a while, and forget your modern ways.” But came the dawn and we drew back into reality, packing our tents and sipping on caffeine, before hopping on our saddles and riding back down through the purple sage to rejoin Highway 160 en route to Kayenta and Monument Valley.
The North American Epic entered Arizona today, crossing the Colorado River at the town of Parker … where the average daily high in July is 109º F (43º C)! After yesterday’s 151 km stage through mercurial heat, today’s mere 125 km trek was cause for hope to spring eternal.
But after an easy morning breeze of a ride to the lunch stop, many riders’ hopes faded in the teeth of a strong headwind along a 48 km dead straightaway between the convenience store in Bouse and the junction village of Hope. For them dreams became reality once again when the tour van appearing out of the desert proved not to be a mirage but rather delivery from fading hopes in the form of an ice cold water refresh stop and an air conditioned seat for those unable to continue.
Those who managed to cycle beyond Hope and those whose bikes and bodies were strapped onto and into the van found their hopes and efforts rewarded when they arrived at the small town of Salome. 7 miles beyond Hope, Salome is named after a Greek Godness and femme fatale. But whereas the town’s motto is “she danced here,” for some reason only known to Americans it’s not pronounced Sa-lo-may but rather Sa-loam.
Semantics aside, Salome is proving to be way beyond Hope, in the form of the rustic and beautiful Westward Motel where we now are celebrating a sunny late afternoon with temps in the mid 90s amidst desert gardens and relics of the Old West.
