Aug 13, Day 49

Stunner campground to Someone’s backyard

Distance - 39 miles, Avg Speed ~ 7.8 mph

We are now acclimatized to high elevation mornings, so today we know to stay in our tents until at least 7.30am so that our toes and fingers don’t freeze! We have a leisurely morning, having 2 coffees, drying out tents before setting off for breakfast at Platoro.

Along the way, we pass a pick up truck which has had a flat – evidence of just how rocky the road is! Platoro, like Stunner, is an old mining town, but one which has survived a little better, with a few houses and a fishing lodge.

We eagerly enter the café to find out breakfast finishes at 11 am and it is now 11.30. Numb Stuff cannot see anything that does not have beef in it on the lunch menu so asks the waitress if they have any chicken dishes. “Yes sir, we have chicken fried steak”. “But isn’t that steak, just cooked like chicken?” says Numb Stuff. “Yeah, but it has chicken in the name, ain’t that close enough?” Eventually he settles for a grilled cheese sandwich, plastic sliced cheese on plastic white bread.  The coke comes in mason jars – perhaps that’s what the old time miners used? We have a map meeting by the fire – this is August in Colorado after all!

After lunch, we follow the river downstream but soon we run into a traffic jam of cows on the move! It is a bit intimidating when 2,000lb bulls are wrestling just feet away from you! The cows are both curious and frightened by our bikes and come to a stop, as do we. The pick-up truck and cowboy behind them soon move them on. The cowboy tells us that the road ahead is rocky and washboarded and he is absolutely right – if we had any loose teeth, we would have left them on the road!

At the junction with Horca, we are pleased to find that the café marked on the map is actually open. Numb Stuff, desperate for food and a glass of wine, orders battered cod and fries and a glass of Chardonnay. Both are totally disgusting; Numb Stuff manages to choke down the food but cannot stomach the wine. However, they do have beer, so we are able to toast our summit belatedly with a couple of bottles of Dos Equis. That sets us up for the last pass in Colorado, the La Manga Pass, which is a five mile climb up on pavement.

There is an informal campground marked on the map just a couple of miles after the pass, which appears to be situated right next to a bar. The lady at the Horca café informs us that the bar has been closed a while, but we will still aim for the campground anyway. When we get there, we find the bar, all shuttered up, but there is no obvious sign (like a fire ring) that anyone has camped next to the river. There is a small strip of land next to the river between the highway and a fenceline that has friendly notices posted on it like “ Trespassers will be shot and roasted” that we think must be the spot. However on closer inspection, we find a 2 foot square plot enclosed by iron railings which is someone’s grave!

While Numb Stuff seems to have no problems setting up camp here, Dirtbaby refuses pointblank to sleep next door to a grave – she would rather sleep on the road!

There are not many other options. Across the road, there are some mostly vacant cabins. Dirtbaby spots a guy sitting on his porch so heads over and puts on her best British accent to ask if one minds if one camps in one’s back yard? How could the guy refuse? So we set up our tents behind his cabin. The guy’s granddaughters come out to observe us – they are both the size of small farm animals with doughnuts in hand. They ask several probing questions. When Numb Stuff asks if they would like to join us for a ride, the larger of the two quickly responds “I prefer a car!” We were grateful for their hospitality though. During the night, not only does their generator disturb our sleep, but there is a howling wind whistling through our tents most of the night.