I Cheated

In Golden Colorado with two nice people and a couple of Airedales. Best dogs ever. Had one growing up and it was like a sister.

Today I cheated, and it didn’t feel good.
I woke up excited to make the 38-mile ride from Idaho Springs to Denver. I was feeling a little tired because the people in the hotel room next to me were up all night playing a game I think was either Twister or lawn darts. I’m pretty sure lawn darts have been illegal for years, but you can buy a lot of questionable stuff on Craigslist if you have the patience.

I stopped at the Idaho Springs Starbucks and talked with two guys who looked to be about 70. They were wearing motorcycle jackets and street clothes. One was a school bus driver; the other was retired. Their motorcycles were parked out front while we drank coffee. They’d met in high school and were part of the first class ever to attend Columbine High School.

One of them told me he actually brought a double-barreled shotgun to school for show-and-tell. Back then, Columbine bordered what was considered “the country,” and kids drove trucks with Winchester 30-30 rifles in gun racks.

I told them about how my dad went to a one-room schoolhouse in rural Kansas. One of his classmates in sixth grade was a WWII vet returning to school to finish his education—he’d gone off to war with only a fifth-grade education. My dad said the guy was nice but once got in trouble for bringing in a Luger pistol he’d taken from a German soldier. The story was apparently a bit graphic for the first and second graders in class.

They asked me why I was doing this trip. I told them I was trying to understand what’s happening in the country. I said I stopped watching the news because I was tired of hearing both sides say such terrible things about each other. If I watch Fox News, I hear terrible things about the Bay Area. If I watch other channels, I hear that red states are filled with mean, ignorant people.

But so far on this trip, I’ve found everyone to be kind—especially in red areas.

I told them one of my favorite presidents was George H. W. Bush. He was a war hero, ran the CIA, had a kind and soft demeanor, and was a great family man. I said that many people I’ve met on this trip remind me of him—they seem very different from our current political leaders.

One of the guys said he liked Bush Sr. too, but Reagan was his favorite. “That was a real Republican,” he said. I asked him what that meant.

He replied, “A hard-working, community-oriented person who helps others directly and doesn’t think the government is the answer to everything. The government should stay in its lane.”

I said that actually reminded me of a lot of people in my Bay Area neighborhood—and we’re Democrats. His response: “I think we need real dialogue. You know, talk to each other. The internet makes it too easy to say something nasty that you’d never say to someone’s face. Most people would get along if they just met in person.”

We had a great talk, but I had to go see my mom. We shook hands, and they filmed me getting on my unicycle.

I plugged “Denver” into Google Maps, set to “bike,” and meandered along frontage roads for about four miles. Then the beautiful bike trail abruptly ended. A sign said to call a number to go further. Until the trail is completed, the only legal way to get to Clear Creek Canyon—a mile and a half away—is by shuttle.

I thought, “Screw this,” and tried to hop on the highway but chickened out. I crossed over and saw a roadside assistance guy and asked if he knew another road that would get me to the canyon. He said, “No.” I offered him $40, then $80, just to drive me the short distance. He politely refused.

I asked a guy in the cashier line if he would, and he also said no. Honestly, if I had been in Utah or Nevada, I think they might have said yes.

I gave up, returned to the end of the trail, and called the number on the sign. A young man in a new white pickup truck came to get me. He said most people hate doing that job because they only get a few calls a day. He didn’t mind—he had his phone and could surf the web. He told me he was doing pretty well: he had a cabin and had just bought his dream car, a 2020 Chevy Malibu. I’d rented one before and told him how much I liked it. He beamed like a proud parent. I should’ve asked to see a picture, but he was on the clock and I needed to see Mom.

We unloaded the unicycle, and I started riding down Clear Creek Canyon. That used to be the main route to the mountains before I-70 was built. When I was a kid, I rode up it every weekend on the ski bus. It had five tunnels, and we used to throw things at each other in the dark.

Clear Creek Canyon, like the rest of Colorado, has changed a lot. Now there are rafters, rock climbers, a half-finished bike path, and lots of people fly fishing. Thankfully, the speed limit was 40 mph. My unicycle can go 60 mph, but I never go that fast—especially not with a 30 lb. pack and traffic. I had my speed alarm set at 35 mph as a reminder. Using my rearview mirror, I kept an eye out for cars so I could take the lane when no one was around.

This was on of the most technical street rides of the trip. There were 5 tunnels. This video captures the last one! The entire canyon ride was about 35 minutes

There were several stretches with no shoulder due to construction, and I had to keep pace with traffic. The tunnels were even tighter. I had set a speed alarm for 35 mph so would not go through my battery too quickly. Every time I hit 35 mph, my unicycle gave me a frantic set of beeps which you hear on the video.

Once I got to Golden, I passed the Coors Brewery. Golden has become a beautiful city with fantastic parks and bike paths. The paths were gorgeous but crowded, so eventually, I switched to surface streets. I lived in the Denver area for the first 25 years of my life and rode through areas today I had never seen. It was a blast.

I got to my mom’s house, and it felt so good to be there. We went out to lunch, did some shopping, and then I took a two-hour nap.

It’s funny—taking that shuttle really bothered me. I felt like I cheated, like it took away from what this trip is supposed to be. I told my mom, and she said, “Who cares?” I guess I still get lost sometimes and need my mom straighten me out.

Above is a video I poorly filmed down the East side of Berthoud Pass yesterday. Lots of snow all around!

I provided videos today of me riding so you can understand what I do when I’m not bothering people, eating, writing, planning, or sleeping. The actual riding is pretty demanding—both physically and mentally. You can never look away. The only way to control the vehicle is by making subtle, and sometimes aggressive, shifts in body position. This means you might spend six hours without ever really relaxing.

Mentally, you’re constantly balancing range versus speed. That calculation is complicated by headwinds and changes in altitude. Oh—and then there are cars, trucks, pavement transitions, potholes, trash, rocks, dead animals, live animals, and tumbleweeds to manage.

Everything gets harder when you add high gusting wind, rain, snow, or hail. I’ve had all of those on this trip. The 30-pound pack and 10 pounds of protective gear make it a solid workout—especially when pushing a 100-pound unicycle uphill through mud. Its like golf, there are a lot of things you have to do well at the same time or bad things happen.

I'm going to hang out in Denver for two days with my mom, plant some tomatoes, install an ice maker, and hopefully see a couple of friends. If you're in Denver, give me a holler—I'd love to see you.

Tomorrow, I’m going to work on video editing. I have a lot of good footage from my Insta360 camera that I haven’t processed yet. I think I actually filmed most of the ride covered in my Rescued post.

If you're into watching an old man repeatedly fall face-first into mud, I might have the footage for you. And if you're into that kind of thing... maybe consider talking to someone. A professional.