Day 7: Gunnison to Salida, Colorado. 67 miles. 4080 feet of climb.

A very mild incline for the first half of the day, followed by the ups and downs of Monarch Summit.

Brrr.   With a long climbing day ahead of us, we took off a bit earlier this morning.  The temperature in Gunnison when we left was 36 degrees.  Yeah, everyone said, but it's a dry cold!  To a person, everyone had on extra gloves, leggings or pants, windbreakers or full-on jackets.  By the time we all got to the first sag stop at the base of Monarch Summit, we'd shed all those extras.  By the time we got to the top of Monarch Summit, it was 43 degrees and the winds were blowing at about 30-40 miles per hour.  Everyone put their stuff back on for a very chilly descent.

The approach to Monarch Summit.  It looked so beautiful and majestic from miles away.

For me, the challenge was both the duration of the climb (it was similar in length to the very tough 8-mile climb up Mt. Rose during last year's ride just north of Lake Tahoe) as well as the altitude.  Mt. Rose was a bit over 8,000 feet.  This climb was over three thousand feet higher.  With about two miles to go, I started feeling a bit lightheaded.  It was also harder to suck in oxygen into my lungs, so I was altering my breathing in order to get the most out of each breath, with a lot more breathing through my nose instead of huffing and puffing while mouth breathing. 

Jane, one of our ride leaders, insisted she take this shot of me.  I was in the middle of putting back on all my warm clothes for the descent.  I would just have easily settled for a riderless shot of the sign.  

The descent was 19 miles down the other side of the mountain.  There again, we had but a very narrow shoulder, if at all, so we all rode out on the one downhill lane, sliding back over as far as we could when traffic approached.  I guess the folks up here are used to cyclists, because that routine of taking the center of the road when no one was approaching and then sliding over to make room for the downhill car/truck traffic worked perfectly with no drivers complaining or honking at us.

The other side of Monarch.  Snow-capped mountains abound!

It was another quiet morning riding out of Gunnison.  And, again, the only sounds other than my bike were from the birds overhead and in the trees and the animals grazing on the farmlands that Route 50 ran through.  This morning, a couple of hawks were playing around only about 100 feet above me.  They carried on for about a mile before disappearing.

A prophetic sign of the day.

I missed the elk; I almost hit her cousin, the deer.

For days now, I've passed horses grazing.  These are the first three to show enough interest to at least pick their heads up and check out what's going on.  But not enough to saunter over for a closer look.

It may be hard to tell (sorry, the best I could do with zoom), but there are two bulls fighting down in the pasture land below.  The third came over to take a look.  Soon, there were five all having a look see.  I didn't wait around to find out who won.

For the past week, all the rivers we'd rode pass have been flowing towards us.  In other words, we've been riding uphill, against the current.  Now on the other side of the Continental Divide, all the rivers will be flowing away from us, or in the same direction we're traveling.  Well, at least until we get to the Mississippi.  Here in Salida, we are at the headwaters of the Arkansas River.

Downtown historic district of Salida, a very bike-friendly town.

We ended the day in a very cute town of Salida.  Very much a cycling (as well as other outdoor sports) community.  While riding through the center of town, I noticed so many people on bikes.  There were four bike shops in about a six square block area and there were also many bikes in front of people's houses.  While riding down a quiet street leading to the center of town, I was paying so much attention to the lovely brick homes lining the street that I almost hit a deer that was casually crossing the street in the middle of the neighborhood.  She wasn't fazed in the least.  I was laughing as it was the one obstacle I hadn't anticipated when I started out this morning.

Tomorrow, 95 miles into Pueblo, followed by a rest day.