The Steamboat

3 October 2008

Steamboat Springs didn't want to let me leave. And I was happy to oblige and stay an extra day. Much thanks to Greg for first planting the idea of riding to Steamboat. Otherwise I may have planned a more direct route. I was bummed he couldn't make the ride along with me.

Unlike most "resort" towns, Steamboat is a real place. Blue collar workers trying to keep their heads above water. Businesses and industries apart from the ski hill and its satellites. A football team ranked third in the state. And even in its attractions, the town hasn't sold its soul to accommodate some abstract market that kneels to lowest common denominators and homogeneity. Steamboat does it its own way. It is growing, so of course not everyone is happy, and some of the growth is a little bland and contrived. But on the whole, the town has done an excellent job of governing its identity and channeling the resort's boon into smart infrastructure and excellent schools.

I stayed with Andrew and his son Andy, whom I found off a reciprocal hosting website for traveling cyclists. Andrew is an exceptionally generous and very low-key guy, with a wealth of knowledge on Colorado cycling. He moved from Louisiana to Steamboat via bicycle, with Andy, who was in middle school at the time. I have to believe that this ride is a huge part of why Andy is one of the coolest and most confident high-schoolers I've known. I mean, he has to be one of a dozen people who've made a bike trek as an 11-year old. And he is cool, in the truest sense, with no chest puffing or trash talking in sight, unafraid to be himself. Andrew and Andy seemed to have an excellent father-son relationship - they cook, they bike, they camp and they seem to avoid the major pitfalls that plague a lot of families, especially during high school years. I'm guessing their cross-country ride factors into this strength as well. Father is invested in son, while allowing independence and son respects father, as they work together to build a life.

Andrew guesses they host five to ten cyclists a year. He once hosted a guy who was biking for dog cancer. I'm often asked if I'm biking for a cause. To which I respond, if my biking across the country inspires you to donate to AIDS research or cancer programs or hunger abatement or TBA treatment or any other cause grand or small, I fully support that.

On Thursday I biked up to Strawberry Hot Springs. Past immaculate ranch lands that made me wonder if I were in Switzerland. Up seven miles to a series of pools set in stone, nestled in the wooded hilltops, soaking in crystalline heat while the last rays of twilight illuminated the crowns of the highest trees.

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