The "High"

The Bandit and I are getting along famously here.

I don't know if it's because she was a used Colorado bike when I bought her, or if she just likes these roads and breathes better up here, but she is really comfortable to ride at this altitude. Her TFI-tuned EFI overrides don't feel nearly as ferocious.

As I ride, I keep wondering about this place, what draws people here.

Interstate 70 is a constant thunder, a roar in the backdrop of "the valley". I see nameless hoards of yoga moms and avid bicycle folks in matching spandex and fleece. I ride past countless climbers on roadside crags and lots and lots of look-a-like fly fisherfolk casting away. I also see a disturbing number of (mostly empty) million dollar mansions pasted onto a once-pretty mountain, just like lookout towers. And every third car I ride past has either an ethnic work crew or an airy price tag.

And yet, with all this activity and all this wealth here, nobody seems happy except the simple folk. The ones who serve coffee or make sandwiches and get high every night they can afford to, they seem just fine. All the rest (and I do mean ALL the rest) of the folks who live here seem like they're stuck somewhere between a nightmare and a daydream.

That's saying something about this place, I'm just not sure what yet...