We said goodbye to our temporary neighbours at camp, and set out for the first time in fleece tops rather than t-shirts. This part of the Colorado is like Switzerland; Mountains, cows at pasture; babbling brooks. The scenery makes the steady climbs a doddle. After 17 miles of jaw-gaping peddling, we passed into 'Chaffee County' (chuckled; we feel we've been here before)-and rolled into Salida. Salida is a quiant town nestled in the mountains but is almost a little self-aware of its' cuteness... There are lots of hippie-styled cafes, bike shops and galleries. Corporate Counter-culture. Still, you can't argue with its' beautiful backdrop of mountains and ornate, old building facades.
We shunned the organic cafes in favour of McDonalds; for its' cheap breakfast and free wi-fi. Powered-up both gastronomically and virtually, the US-50 lead us up and out of town, towards the Collegiate mountains. Matt had done his homework, (fantastic, helpful information from the guys at awesome bicycles) and had his sights set on a 'rest' day, involving hiking up one of the local 'Fourteeners'. That is, a 14,000+ foot mountain. So we detoured off our US50 West-bound route to find the Angel of Shaveno campsite (at the foot of the fourteener of the same name.) The State-park campsite lies at the top of a secluded, steep road through thick woodland, passing only a handful of houses. At the sign-posted turnoff to the Angel' campsite, we were pleased to see it was managed by the arch-typical campsite host; a friendly retired couple in an RV.
Leon and Sarah-Faye welcomed us and gave us the lay of the land. They were a sweet couple from Tennessee, this was their first year of 'hosting'; that is leaving their home to manage a State campsite from May to October. Leon reminded me alot of Jack Nicholson in his most affable roles, and Sarah-Faye was a classic Southern Belle.
We chose a nice shady spot for our tent, and set about setting up. While enjoying the idyllic location, we expressed some sadness that we were a long way uphill from anywhere that sells beer. As if by magic, we were addressed by a silver-bearded gentleman in a 4x4. 'I'm going down town, do you guys need anything?' Blinking at this fortuatous timing, Matt stepped up to the truck and expressed our fondness for a post-ride beer...If he could be so kind to buy some for us, could we possibly get a few for him too? -Our knight in shining truck; now introduced as Buddy; said he didn't drink himself but was happy to buy our beer. He insisted on writing down what we required (IPA; any!)- and solomnly gave us an ETA (about an hours' time.)
Humbled by this gesture, we strutted over to Buddys' parked RV to thank his wife. Patti was a soft-spoken sweet-heart; she asked us a few questions about our journey and we learned that she was born in San Francisco. Her and Buddy had lived in the South until they visited Colorado; fell in love with the mountains and promptly shipped up and out to live amongst them. We could certainly understand the appeal, and respected their bold move to follow their hearts. Patti told us of a waterfall up the hill from where we stood, and of their many treks up the surrounding mountains - as hard-core walkers.
We left Patti and gathered some fallen timber for a fire, then investigated the waterfall uphill. When we returned to basecamp, Buddy handed over a cool-box with 6 locally-brewed IPA's; they even had a bike on the label. Also 2 ice-teas for genuine hydration! He refused to take any money from us, and humbly retreated to his wife and grandson, Ashton. Feeling like the cat that got the cream, we thanked Buddy profusely and headed back to the waterfall. There we enjoyed a refreshing beer and bracing bath; as nature intended. Spruced up, we returned to camp to cook up some tin-foiled burritos over an open fire. Life's good.... Very Good!
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