Moishe's Ride

I’m in a hotel in Pueblo, CO right now. My bike’s in the room along with all my gear for the next two months. It’s … surreal. I’ve done this before — leaving on a solo, multi-month trip, organizing gear in a hotel — a number of times. But never after COVID! Weird to be relearning how to interact with people and also getting ready to do a long bike trip. I’m excited to ride, and also already miss Lindsey and Percy like crazy. Still doesn’t feel real, but I think once I actually start riding it’ll feel more real. More tomorrow. 

I’ve bought a ton of stuff for my trip, and had never hit a shipping snag until today. Back in March, I ordered a Rogue Panda frame bag for my bike — they’ve got a great reputation, the bag will work well, and their lead times seemed in line with when I’d be leaving on my trip. They were great to work with, and shipped my bag out earlier this week. I was planning on getting it by today, so I could leave tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, the package is delayed in transit. This isn’t anyone’s fault and I’m not mad about it, even though I can’t start my trip until the bag arrives (I need it so that I have enough space to carry all my gear). It means I get to spend a few more days here in Boulder with Percy and Lindsey, then leave Tuesday or Wednesday. Good to learn patience early on a trip like this, I think. 

 So, further "refinement" to my plans. Over the last week, I've been thinking a lot about what I want out of this trip. In 2017 when I did the southern part of the Great Divide, I wanted solitude and quiet. I'd just quit an extremely stressful job, I'd been traveling for work pretty frequently, Lindsey and Percy and I had tried to do a family "van life" trip which was unsuccessful and we were all feeling the need to get away from each other and people in general. The section of the Great Divide that I did was perfect for this -- I had a few days in gentrified Colorado, from Silverthorne down to Salida, then a few delightful weeks in the beautiful emptiness of southern Colorado and New Mexico. Obviously things are different right now. Bicycles are incredible tools for solitude, but they're also incredible tools for socialization. I'm not an incredibly social person, to put it mildly, but after the last year or so I find myself wanting to be around

This is most of what I'm carrying this summer. Most of it, volume-wise, is sleep stuff -- my sleep quilt, 1-person tent, and ground pad. Also cold-weather and rain clothes, plus first-aid kit with some repair stuff (most of my bike tools are on my bike already). Also missing is my stove. I haven't weighed this, but it sure is much lighter than what I carried when I rode from Boston to LA when I was 17. Back then I emphatically had no idea what I was doing, and brought, among other things, a Mag Lite that took 2 'D' batteries, a pair of jeans, a heavy cotton sweatshirt, at least 3 (maybe 4?) cycling jerseys, boat shoes  (which I lost the day before I got to LA), etc.

This first post is an experiment with Blogger as a platform to talk about my trip this summer. I’m writing from my office at home, on my iPhone, to test the mobile experience. Here’s my bike, getting ready: I’m riding my Surly Pugsley, which I’ve converted to a 29+ bike  It’s heavy and slow but will carry whatever. It’s reliable and proven. Here’s my planned (for now) route : I’ve waffled quite a bit on the route — initially I’d planned to ride from here in Boulder, down to Pueblo, then take Adventure Cycling’s Western Express route to Escalante, where I’d pick up the Western Wildlands bikepacking route .  That involved too much pavement, I decided, so then started thinking about starting in Grand Junction and getting on the Kokopelli Trail to Moab, then riding from Moab up via Green River to the Western Express route on Skyline Drive. However, Kokopelli on a fully loaded bike is realistically beyond what I’d be comfortable with right now given my fitness. Then I thought: I could rent