Kevin gets deadly sick---and I go for help
only to be threatened with a gun.
After breakfast in Cuba, New Mexico we head up some very steep mountain switchbacks and head down this trail that gets much steeper and is strewn with big rocks.
These bicyclist were out of water and hurting badly. We gave them all our water as we knew we could get to water much easier than they could. I'm surprised some bicyclists don't die out here every year---maybe they do.
Monty was going pretty fast down this dry rutted up excuse for a road when the ruts got a hold of him and just would't let go. Me and Kevin watched in horror as he lunged from one rut to the other in a very spectacular display of riding skill. Well this was the end result---a broken turn signal and a little loss of oil.
A really old log cabin homestead
Temperatures finally climbed up to 90°--but the humidity level was something like 11%--never heard of humidity levels this low in Southern, Illinois---it was nice !!
Upper Laqunitas Campground--just South of
the Colorado Border
We were at 10,600 ft. elevation and camped on the edge of this cliff overlooking a beautiful lake and the lower campground. The temperature was dropping fast and there was a stiff breeze blowing which made us think it was going to freeze up here tonight--we were prepared for that.
Kevin set up his tent, the wind got a hold of it and when he turned around----it was gone !!! We found it and I helped him stake it down and we all tied all our tents to the trees.
It was so beautiful up here---I sat on the edge on a tree root looking for a bear probing around the lake below. Kevin and Monty went to sleep and I sat there alone---the sun was going--there were strange noises in the dense pines--I looked around---hear more loud noises----I knew there was a bear out there and I was scared---climbed in my tent and tried to go to sleep knowing a big clawed paw would reach thru my tent at me any second. I'm not a scardy cat--or at least I thought--but I just had the creeps !!!.
So Kevin hollers---and says he needs help.
He is very sick--I wake up Monty--it's pitch dark now----Kevin says he is deadly
sick, has a headache that is a 10 (unbearable) and is very sick at the stomach.
He can't hardly talk and thinks he needs medivac'd out of there. We try the
cell phones---no service. Now he's talking about a helicopter search and rescue---this
is bad as there is 70 miles of bear infested wilderness and rutted up dirt roads
to civilization and I realize things are bad. The thought of me riding out of
there, maybe alone, terrifies me. There is a guy camping down below and I start
hollering at him down the cliff and across the lake. He finally responds and
I tell him I'm coming down to see if he can help. I mount up and fire up my
GPS as I needed guidance down to the lower camp---as the little dirt roads were
shown on my GPS. I about hit several deer on the way down--get caught in a couple
very deep ruts and soldier on to the guys campsite. It took me 15 or 20 minutes
getting down there and I could hardly see the dirt road in front of me. I finally
see the guys pickup truck and catch a small glimpse of him before I shut my
bike off and it is total darkness. He shines a flashlight in my face, blinding
me and says "don't get off your bike or I'll shoot you" !!!!
Ok---I take a while to absorb that thought
and think my sheepskin I'm sitting on is really pretty comfy--thank you very
I can't see him--and never do. I explain the whole situation and ask him if he knows the closest place I can go for help. He does tell me about a couple small towns---I probe on my GPS and find them---they are still hours away on lonely dangerous, mountainous dirt roads---in the dark.
He's still not very friendly and I thank him and tell him I'm going to start my bike and ride back up to our camp and won't be back---no response. I can't find the road in the dark and wander aimlessly around trying to find my way back, all the while wanting to get away from him---if I hadn't had the GPS on my bike I never would have---I finally followed the tracklog back to camp.
To make a long story short---Kevin had emptied his stomach and now felt extremely bad instead of dying bad. He said he was going to lie down in his tent--and we never heard another word from him all night. I lay in my tent wondering if his body would be warm or cold in the morning. Kevin is a tough old bird--he is an ex-marine and police officer and I knew when he said he felt that bad---he meant it.
194 miles for the day
Stage 5 Kevin is able to ride on and we enter Colorado and go over the highest mountain pass of the whole ride.