Beer Preasure

On the second of three nights in Boulder, I had dreams of chasing and being chased. I awoke with the sense that it was the perfect day to pedal to Fort Collins. So I gathered my maps, made a huge pile of pancakes, and snuck out a day early. In just two days of riding I've rolled through gravel, dirt, grass, rain, and mud. I'm glad I kept the beefy tires and slapped on some fenders. My gear would be dirrrrty!
The approach to Fort Collins required navigating the suburban sprawl of gated communities and golf courses that has crept ever southward since "FoCo"- I'm not kidding, they actually call it that- has been consistently ranked one of the best towns to live in, apparently by some creepy conservative publication. I had anticipated something like South Davis, but South Fort Collins is it's own community of 50,000 people. I had to bike 12 miles to get to Old Town!
For those of you keeping track at home, the ride to Boulder was 40 miles, to Fort Collins was 50, and to scenic Laramie at the foot of whose antiquated and prestigious university I am now collapsed was 65. More on pace data later.
I really loved Fort Collins. I'm already excited to go back. The people are super friendly, the bike shops are super cool, and the bars are super nice. In general, I don't enjoy going out to drink; too expensive, too noisy, too many assholes. I sat at five bars in three days and had a blast at all of them. Good, cheap beer and good, stimulating conversation. Cute girls, hip parents, the works. There are two really cool, open bike shops that have approachable mechanics. One of them is part of a bar/ coffeehouse where you can ride your bike onto the sidewalk, into the open garage door, past the bar, and back into the shop. Hipster heaven, except I didn't see any hipsters! You can see why I'm excited.
For the first two nights I stayed with an awesome family I found on Warmshowers.com, a couchsurfing site for bike tourists. Such nice people! The mother, Julie, (who I cannot describe better than her friend at the food co-op:) "a delicious snack of a lady", was incredibly kind and gave me list of places to go and people to meet and she made smoothies from local fruit and yogurt and she told me all about the tour she had done a few years ago. Her husband, Bob, graduated from Cal and seems to be something of bike nerd/woodsman/distracted parent. I found a full clip of bullets between the fair trade brown sugar and rainbow sprinkles- and I've played enough Goldeneye to know they were for something much larger than a handgun.
I slept in a camping trailer in the backyard. I hope I never own a car, but if I do, it'll be a Tacoma with a camper in the back. I've seen too many dirtbag rigs in the Valley to think I'd want a Westfalia. Anyway, this camper was so cute and the screen windows let the breeze in and the sunrise woke me up each morning and the backyard was so beautiful with it's veg garden and chicken coop. Wow. Blueberry waffles for breakfast and a slow ride along the very elaborate bike path network to downtown. The bike paths follow the numerous creeks that wind West to East, going through tunnels under major streets. Julie was quick to point out that the surface streets are faster, but Bob only wanted to know which sections I hadn't had a chance to explore yet.
Maybe it's Bozeman this Winter then FC in the spring and through to the fall. We shall see.