I have lots of bicycling fantasies, none of them involving Paola Pezzo (although come to think of it Hein Verbruggen might be in one, but that’s another story). One of my favorites is to still be alive when that last drop of oil is pumped from the ground. By then oil will be so precious that the only way to get around will be by bicycle and I will then be able to ride coast to coast on the Interstate Highway system, taking full use of all lanes, riding up and down access ramps at will with nary a vehicle to cramp my style.
I may not make it to the last drop of oil, but I do plan to ride coast to coast one of these days. This dream was rekindled a few weeks ago when my wife and I happened upon a bicycle tourist bashing about in the wilds of Broomfield. We were on our tandem, heading out for our standard 50 mile ride that takes us to Amante in North Boulder where we usually indulge in a mid-ride break. As we chugged onto the frontage road that runs along the Boulder Turnpike just under highway 287, we caught up to a rider on a touring bike fully decked out with front and rear panniers. As we went by he asked us how to get to highway 128 heading west.
Curious as to why a cyclo-tourist would be riding through greater Broomfield, we stopped to chat. He was trying to get to some city at the foot of the mountains whose name he could not remember. We tried to coax it out of him – Morrison? Golden? Grand Junction? After consulting his map, he remembered – Boulder! We naturally assume that everyone in the world knows all about Boulder, but this humble encounter reminded us that Boulder is not the center of everyone’s universe.
We quickly convinced our new friend to ride with us since we were heading to his destination anyway. As we rode along we learned that our companion, Mike Kneafsey, was on his way from Chicago to LA, by way of San Francisco. He had recently retired and decided to reawaken his love affair with the bicycle by taking on a bike tour for charity.
In further conversation during our brief rest at Amante, Mike painted an idyllic portrait of the joys of bike touring. Anyone who has ever ridden more than a few miles knows that peddling a heavy load all day long on roads that are anything but flat with the vagaries of the weather to contend with can not possibly be easy. But when approached with a “what an adventure!” mindset, a trip like Mike’s can be the experience of a lifetime.
Our ride back home that day was filled with daydreams of endless, carefree days on the road. Even if I’m never able to ride I-80 from the Pacific to the Atlantic, the dream of a coast-to-coast tour is still very much alive.
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