June 23rd Update: So long, Colorado!

Today I made it out of Colorado and into Wyoming! 2 states and 3 GDMBR sections down, woo hoo! I’m finally feeling better, and had a proper, 85 mile ride today from Brush Mountain Lodge to Rawlins (followed by a massive dinner at a great Sushi place here in town. It’s so nice to be able to eat again!)

The ride out of Steamboat Springs was absolutely gorgeous. I’d never been, and it definitely won’t be my last time to visit.

I stayed at the famous Brush Mountain Lodge last night, which was yet another amazing divide experience that deserves a blog post of its own—but I’ll get to that later. First, let me back up.

Knowing that it was a fairly short day from Steamboat to Brush Mtn Lodge, I slept in at the KOA on Saturday and left just before 10. I rolled past an ACE Hardware on my way out of town, and stopped in to buy a new leatherman (the mini one I brought doesn’t really do the trick, and I’ve needed a new one for a while anyway).

I thought this would be a completely forgettable experience I wouldn’t mention in this blog, but that didn’t turn out to be the case. I parked my bike at the front door of ACE, hopped off and quickly walked in (bike helmet and everything still on). I stopped by the camping aisle to see if there was anything I needed, and then headed back towards where the lady at the front told me the Leathermans were. I got about 10 feet from them when a store manager came rushing over to me and told me I’d need to leave the store immediately and put my backpack outside. I stared at him dumbfounded for a second, because frankly I didn’t even realize my backpack was still strapped to me (it’d been there for over 1000 miles at that point), and then said “oh, sure… sorry, I’m on my bike.” He just looked at me blankly and said “company policy.”

Now, this guy had no way of knowing I’d ridden to his store from Mexico (and he probably thought I smelled like an unhoused person, despite the expensive bike helmet and gear I was clad in), but I gotta tell you, the last thing you want to do when you’re riding your bike all day is walk all the way back outside to put your backpack down and then walk back in, just so you can spend money there. Side note: if you can’t tell, I also have a bit of a personal gripe about things like dress codes—ask anyone in my family about the time a waiter asked me to remove my hat while having breakfast at a country club one morning—so this guy struck a nerve.

I said something to the effect of “Dude, I’m just trying to buy that Leatherman Wave that’s on the shelf right behind you… do I really have to put my backpack outside? It’s right there.” He guffawed a bit and said “fine, I’ll just have to escort you to the front.”

So he led me over to the Leatherman section, I grabbed the $120 multitool I’d come in to buy, and he then literally escorted me to the checkout counter while holding the Leatherman. En route, he says “nice morning for a bike ride, huh?” I chuckled and said “yep, I’ve had a lot of them recently.” Then he said “I went for a bike ride this morning, too.” Neat!

We get to the check out counter and he hands the multitool over to the cashier, who, looking confused, asks him “is this for you or…?”

He then shakes his head and says “no, it’s his,” while gesturing to my backpack and literally mouthing the word “backpack” as if I can’t see him.

So I pay the gal for the leatherman and ask if she can open it for me and throw away the box. “I’m traveling on my bike,” I tell her. “Oh fun, where are you going?” She says. “I rode here from Mexico and I’m going to Canada,” I say, at which point her demeanor completely changes and she says “WHAT?! WOW that’s incredible blah blah blah.”

I thought about my run-in with the backpack police for a while on the bike that day. As a white male, it’s not often I’m profiled and asked to leave a place (don’t think that’s literally ever happened… except on a golf course). Most people aren’t as lucky as I am. The annoying, funny experience I had could’ve turned into something quite different if I didn’t look the way I do.

I think the reason this insignificant little moment stuck with me is because it was so dramatically different than any other interaction with a human being I’ve had so far on this trip. Everyone I’ve met has been so incredibly kind and helpful—today alone I had two guys in a pickup slow down on the highway and drive right alongside me (which, as a cyclist, is usually bad news) and offer me water, and I had another family stop their car during a thunderstorm and insist I get in the back seat and wait out the rain with them.

So, if you ever feel the need to restore your faith in humans—and there’s an important difference between “in humans” and “in humanity,” (see ACE Hardware’s company policy)—go on bike tour, or through-hike, or some other kind of big, solo adventure. You’ll be amazed at the kindness you’re shown, and how incredible people can be.