So the conversation with my wife starts like this...

"I'm going to Colorado to ride tomorrow.  Want to go?  It will be fun and you can ride too."

"What's the ride like?"

"Stonewall Century in La Veta, CO.  Beautiful rolling valley surrounded by the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.  You do the 30 miler while I do the century.  We'll enjoy a nice relaxing drive up, ride, lunch in the park then head home.  Make it date.  And you can also visit the local art shops while I finish."

We've used this model many times before.  It works well.  Pick a unique bucket list ride and venue for us both to enjoy.  Keeps marital bliss.  Much better than the old racing model where she sits in some dusty feed zone field for hours while I play bike racer.

She thinks about it and says "Sounds fun.  Is it uphill?"

"Just a bit.  Nothing you can't handle."

"OK.  Let's do it."

"Great.  It's a date."

There is always a magnificent backdrop on the Stonewall Century. Credit: Stonewall Century
Early the next morning the alarm clock goes off.

My wife grumbles "What's that for?????"

I'm up.  "Time to hit the road.  We gotta go."

"What?  It's still dark.  Can't see anything."

"I'll use the driving lights.  Almost as good as sunlight but I need you for EDP."

"EDP??"

"Elk Deer Patrol.  You know, looking out for animals trying to become hood ornaments."

"What?? That's why we should stay in bed until the sun comes up!  It's safer."

"Common.  We're burning daylight - actually moonlight.  Let's roll.  I'll make the coffee."

"I'm not sure I want to go.  It's cold and dark outside!!  And you said a nice relaxing drive and a date."

"Honey, once you get some coffee it'll all be good.  Coffee cures all."

"I guess so."

I pack the car and make coffee.  We'll almost.  Mr. Coffee coughs, sputters and gives one last gasp before dying.  No coffee.  Not a drop.  My wife comes downstairs.  She is not amused with the lack of coffee.  No problem.  I got this.  Just get in the car honey.  We head out stopping at the mini-mart in town.  Damn.  It doesn't open till 6am.  In the car she gives me the Where-The-Hell-Is-My-Coffee look.  Hmmm, this date isn't off to a good start.  After an hour of the silent treatment I find coffee and sunlight plus we see a wonderful wild horse herd on the Colorado/New Mexico border.  Slowly her mood improves.  

As we arrive in La Veta things are looking up.

"I'll unpack the bikes while you register."

"OK" she says.

When she returns I'm ready to roll since the century started an hour earlier.  

"I'll see you.  You have a map for the 30 miler?"

With some hesitation she says "Uhhh...Yea.  Profile looks kinda jagged.  Like it goes up.  A lot.  Shows the first rest stop on top of a pass?"

Rolling away I yell "No worries honey.  Love you.  You got this.  Enjoy."

So I begin the 105 mile century including two mountain passes with 8,000 feet of climbing.  I roll up the Cuchara Valley with the climb getting steeper every mile.  Already in my lowest gear, I push hard to turn the pedals.  Hmmm.  Not quite "rolling".  Glad my wife runs compact gearing.  Anyhow, nothing I can do about it now.  I catch riders, briefly chat and continue up the road.  The route is beautiful with 13,000 foot snowcapped mountains, clear blue alpine lakes plus miles of magnificent natural stonewalls reminiscent of The Great Wall of China.  This ride is a real treat.  Definitely bucket list worthy.

The Sangre de Cristo mountains. Credit: The author.
5 hours later I roll back into La Veta.

"How was you're ride honey?"

"Up" she mutters.

"Wasn't it beautiful?"

"It was up.  I need lower gears.  It kept going up.  I need more gears.  Did I mention it went UP?"    

"It was hard for me too."

"Yea, but you do this ALL the time.  You said it was 'rolling'.  Took me over TWO hours to reach the rest stop at the top.  3000 feet of climbing!  UP. UP.  UP.   That's not what I call a rolling!"

Our date is heading in the wrong direction so I offer "Great job honey.  That's a Grand Tour climb you conquered."

"I'm not a Grand Tour rider and don't want to ride like one.  That sucked."

"But you had fun coming back down...?"

'Well...Yea.  Only took 30 minutes.  That WAS fun."

"Congratulations on a great ride.  Ready for some homemade food?  I smell BBQ."

So while we listen to local musicians in the shade of La Veta park we fill our plates with homemade BBQ, coleslaw, watermelon and cookies made by the La Veta Future Farmers of America.  I'm starved after burning 3500+ calories on the ride.  We enjoy a nice relaxing lunch and socialize with other riders before packing up to head home.  On the way back we even stop for milkshakes at Sonic - we definitely earned them today.  Got home.  Took a shower.  Ate again and went to bed.

A few hours later she wakes me up.

"I don't feel good.  Stomach hurts." as she heads to the bathroom.

"Hmmm.  Maybe something you ate?"

A few hours later she's up again.

"Thanks.  I have food poisoning." as she runs to the bathroom.  "I hate you!"

"I love you too honey."

"I said I HATE YOU!  Get me up before sunrise.  No coffee.  Made me ride up a damn mountain and gave me food poisoning.  Boy you sure know how to show a girl a good time on a date..."

"Only the best for you honey!"

An hour later I'm up.  She laughs as I'm moving all those calories out of my system.  This process continues and continues and continues every few hours for the next day.  BBQ - the only thing we ate in common.  A few quick emails and we learn other riders are experiencing the same food poisoning.  Three days later I finally go for a ride, although I struggle to generate enough power to illuminate a 13w lightbulb.  

Later that week the conversation with my wife starts like this...

"I'm going to Colorado to ride up Pikes Peak.  Want to come along?  It will be fun and you can ride too."

She just stares at me "You've got to be kidding."   

John is a former faux pro racer enjoying life as a geriatric cyclist in search of great bucket list rides to keep him in shape and out of trouble - well, at least in shape. 

He writes about his Bucket Rides in all their variety and glory for Granfondo.com.

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