Fargo and Away

Waking up in Colter Bay it was clear that my body had not rid itself of COVID. My first coronavirus infection hit me sometime between my son’s senior prom and his graduation day, roughly 10 days prior to my trip. I knew it was a risk deciding to continue on the trip, but my symptoms had been mild, and seemed to be improving day by day, so I decided to keep my plans. I dosed up on cold meds, donned a mask on per CDC protocol, and left for Jackson Hole.

The plan seemed to be working during my flight over as my stuffy head cleared. But, before we set out the next day on our bikes, my symptoms started to return. By the time we finished our day 1 ride, I was in bad shape.

A cold, rough night of sleep in Colter Bay led to a even worse morning, with sinus pain, coughing, dizziness, and nausea. Our plan for the day was to ride 49 miles with over 3800 feet of climbing. I was having trouble just packing up my tent.

We took the morning minute by minute. I ate breakfast slowly, grabbed some food for the road, and then we slowly rode out of the campground. We agreed to just see how the first 6 miles went and make a decision then on whether to continue up the climb or cut the day short and camp before the climb.

Within the first few miles it was clear that I wasn’t going to be able to make the climb, and my symptoms were already severe enough that I was considering just turning back to Jackson. But we kept moving forward.

At mile 15 we came a ranch resort overlooking the river, with a restaurant and some basic accommodations. It was essentially a western themed “glamp-ground” with covered wagons and tepees with beds in them. We decided to stop for the day and see if I could recover to make the climb a day later.

It was a fantastic decision. Though we had only been riding for a couple of hours, we were both hungry again, and had some BLTs in the restaurant. We both took it easy for the day, napping, sitting in the sun, and checking out the campground, which, in addition to having an incredible view over a winding river, had a few dozen horses the owners used for guided trail rides.

While we hung out, several racers from the Tour Divide passed through, including April Drage, one of the few women attempting to race from Canada to the New Mexico/Mexico border. April is from Australia and was amazingly full of humor and energy, gulping down a huge ice cream while she talked with us.

A couple of male riders came through a one 90 minutes later to grab lunch. They were boring. Barely spoke a word to us, and left. I only took a picture of their bikes.

The day, dragged, my head continued to pound, and my energy ebbed. I passed the time trying unsuccessfully to take picture of various swallows that were circling one of the stables, because I’m over 50 and therefore legally required to take photos of birds.

By the end of the day, as I was clearly not improving, I suggested to Kai that maybe we needed a plan B. The next three days of the ride promised to be very challenging with some wet, cool weather. There would be nowhere to stay but our tents if we continued on, that’s if I could manage to get myself up and over two steep mountain passes. After some discussion, we agreed that it would be too risky for me to continue on, so I would turn around and ride back to Jackson to recuperate. Kai would press on over the passes to Pinedale, WY. I would join him there via a less demanding route if i felt up to it after a rest day on Jackson. I

t was a good plan, and we both felt at peace with it. All that was left was to watch the sun go down and go to sleep.

Actually, my neck was fine. It was my head that was hurting.