After over a week of riding all day and sleeping in a new bed every night I was ready to actually unpack, do some much needed laundry, and relax in Colorado Springs for 3 glorious nights.
For many in our group I imagine Colorado Springs also brought significant anxiety. There was a pre-planned motorcycle ride up to the summit of Pikes Peak – all 14,110 feet of it.
Back in 1916 the Van Buren sisters were the first women to reach the summit on motorcycles. An impressive feat back then and an equally impressive feat today.
Before we left Ottawa, Zandra, Johanne, Tina and I had decided that riding up Pikes Peak wasn’t something on our bucket list and bought tickets to go up on the cog train. Johanne then bravely changed her mind leaving Zandra, Tina and I to the train.
Turns out it was a good thing Zandra didn’t ride as she succumbed to a pretty serious bout of altitude sickness. She did bounce back a few hours later when we got back down closer to sea level. I didn’t feel great either and was very happy with my decision not to ride the summit.
Johanne and our new-found friend Susan from Toronto (turanna) did an awesome job representing Canadians at the top of the mountain.
What an amazing accomplishment for all the riders and a special congrats to Johanne and Susan. Bad-assed Canadians🇨🇦
The next day we were treated to a great breakfast and bike tour of the Garden of the Gods by one of our group who is a Colorado Springs local – thanks Chris.
It was then back to the hotel to do that laundry and pack up for the next day.
As I started packing my clothes I realized I was missing a sock. Wouldn’t have been unusual or a big deal at home but on the road I only have 3 pairs and they get pretty ripe in hot motorcycle boots.
The hotel we were staying in was a huge maze so trudging back to the laundry room took some effort. As I walked in, a couple was just loading up the dryer I had been using. I asked if they had noticed a sock in the dryer. They didn’t think so but I took a peek before they shut the door and there was my sock mixed in with their unmentionables. We all laughed as I pulled it out and they agreed it was not one of theirs.
We then got down to the usual chatting that I imagine happens in hotel laundry rooms. Where are you from? Where are you going? Telling the story of our ride once again garnered great interest from the couple. They had sold their Harley’s a few years ago before they went to Kenya on a mission – this did not immediately register with me. We talked some more about bikes and I gave them more details about our trip and how many of us were travelling – mostly women – all the way to San Fransisco on motorcycles. They thought it was a wonderful adventure.
As I was about to turn and leave the woman asked if she could pray for me – the penny dropped about the “mission” in Kenya. With sock in hand I was backing out the door and saying “sure, if you want to.” She then grabbed my hand (without the sock) and she and her husband bowed their heads, closed their eyes and started praying to Jesus for his blessing and to keep us all of safe in our journey…etc… I was admittedly in a state of shock. Keeping my eyes open I just kind of stood there for what seemed like a very long time. When she finally finished, opened her eyes and dropped my hand I found myself saying thank you and as I turned to leave my last words were “and I found my sock”. 😄
Onward to Ouray, Colorado.
Whatever you ride, ride safe.
Helen
The Almost 200 Gang 