Friday marked my first time dangling from a rope on a rock. It was terrifying. I've climbed every day since, and I don't want to stop.
Here it is- I am off the Great Divide trail.
What?! The trail has been my artery, my life blood, what I live for because there is nothing else as sustaining and beautiful and, well, alive. I have been painfully aware of life's need for water when I nearly ran out of it in the Great Divide Basin in Wyoming, I have picked green beans and squash at Lela's farm, severing them from their life-giving stems, and I have seen so many dead rabbits and deer that I am very aware of the cycle of all things living that someday die. I feel a little bit offended that the trail will go on living without me, but this is also a relief. It's not going anywhere. I may feel like I need the trail to stay alive because it is something to focus on, it's a welcome distraction from the fact that I ended my appartment lease in Chicago, I don't have a job (yet!), and I while I'm on the trail, I can embrace the fact that I am a badass. Streaks of mud, sweat, and blood paint my body- I am riding a mountain bike from Canada to Mexico. Wow. My home is my tent, I eat what I can carry or salvage, and when it rains I get wet. That is over now, and while I feel like my body has let me down and prevented me from achieving something Great, maybe it's my fault for pushing it too hard and sleeping in too many teepees (every night I slept in a teepee, something bad happened the next morning- freezing cold temperatures, a nasty hangover, a crippled ankle, maybe my nights in teepees are over. The cutural appropriation was just too much apparently). I've been flowing along singletrack, gravel roads, and pavement alike to reach the foot of the United States of America. I am a bit past the halfway mark, so I suppose that means I'm at the nation's groin or thigh or something. Let's say the nation's quadricep- the powerhouse- Colorado!!
It was really hard to make this decision. Actually, the decision was made by my ankle and the hard part was getting my mind to come to terms with the fact that I would no longer be waking up to the gentle whispers of aspen and song birds. I would no longer be crushing miles under my stubbly rubber tires, and I would no longer be the awe-inspiring Chick Biking From Canada to Mexico. I have an injury. Injuries take time to heal, and I wish there was a screw I could tighten or brake pads I could replace to fix my body. But bodies are mysterious and frustrating like relationships, and the relationship between my tendon and my calf muscle would take time to heal. For fear of breaking down in the middle of nowhere, in crippling pain and days away from the next town, I have decided to let my ankle heal and not return to the trail this season. It's not going anywhere, I keep reminding myself. I can come back and ride the entire Divide next summer, or five years from now, or in ten years. Mountains move verrrrrrry slowly- the Continental Divide will not have noticeably budged, and most likely, neither will the folks I met in the small towns along the way. Maybe they will remember me.
I am currently staying with my stepsister at her house in Golden, CO to let my Achilles recover. I love it here. She is a grad student at School of Mines in the hydrology department, as are two of her housemates. The fourth housemate is her boyfriend, who has wheat colored hair and kind blue eyes like the Minnesota lakes where he is from. He cooks us breakfast every morning and I feel honored to be here. I sleep in the bike room on a mattress they cleared space for, and I fall asleep with a Scattante rear tire about 2 inches from my nose. This feels familiar and comforting. There is no door to the bike room, so coffee making and potato chopping in the morning are the first things to greet my senses as I open my eyes and am staring directly into the kitchen. I am used to being exposed to trees and the sky, now I am exposed to housemates as they prepare for their school days. I get out of bed, test my ankle- yup- it feels a bit better than it did yesterday- and typically spend the day rockclimbing (it doesn't hurt my ankle!), hunting for jobs, and soaking in the amazing weather and mountains that make up Colorado.
I'm off the trail. I was extremely disappointed initially, but I would not have spent this much time with my stepsister or in the wonderful town of Golden if I hadn't fallen into the Injury Pit, and it's an okay place to be. Actually- I think I like it here. I think I'll stay awhile.
ASPEN!!!!!!!!!!!! The truck reverberated with our screams of jubilance- Allison and I love aspen.
Clear Creek, right across the street from Allison
History of Golden: there was gold mining once upon a time, and now there is a School of Mines
more aspen :)
Moose- the house pup