SUR LA SELLE ENCORE.

It was much colder last night, and sleep was shockingly satisfactory. When I woke up, my first move was to start working on my Chromebook. After typing up a few things, it was time to pack my bike. My limit was set for seven days in Denver, and I enjoyed every moment of it. This was my longest sejour since Seattle. It was time to resume the journey. I have felt so incredibly pampered these past two weeks or so. It is my belief, the moment I entered Colorado was when the spoiling commenced. Perhaps it was the wonderful weather, the spectacular sights, or the welcoming family. 

Speaking of family, I jabbed John awake in order to say farewell. I convinced him to join me for a coffee down the block at this cozy corner cafe. My double-shot espresso was yummy despite the lack of crema. The chocolate croissant was decent by all means. After chatting and coffeeing for a bit, it was time to depart. The feeling of returning to the road is difficult to define. It feels familiar being back, too familiar. Yet everything is somewhat different. 

Unquestionably, I feel at ease while wandering this wonderful world. Navigating the neighborhoods was simple enough. After sprinting through the industrial district, I found the trail system. The trail followed along Sand Creek, which turned into the legendary South Platte River. I have not mentioned the beautiful bird diversity that hangs around this particular river. It almost makes you forget about the haunting homeless housing spread along the banks. The truth, it was not nearly as bad as the city. 

After making my way through a few tiny towns on the outskirts of Denver, I found myself in Brighton. I am not entirely sure, but I felt some odd familiarity with this area. This was the perfect spot to stop for peanuts and an energy drink. After refueling my energy bar, I found Frontage Road. Fitting to its name, it was in fact a frontage road and ran alongside Interstate 76 (also Highway 6). This venture lasted for roughly sixteen miles until I arrived in Keenesburg. My morning move was to call the motel twice, but no one answered. Their online presence was very minimal, so showing up was the best option. Undoubtedly, I was greeted by a no vacancy sign. What the hell, I went in and checked anyways. They had one room left from a recent cancelation. That saved me another forty-seven miles of biking. Fate was on my side today. 

My first move was to get some hot water in the bath for some laundry. After hanging them on the clothing line, I helped myself to a shower. Feeling societally acceptable, downtown Keenesburg was my next destination. It was tiny, but it had a decent main street. There was a market and a Mexican restaurant, what more could you ask for? After gathering the goods, I returned to my motel. My first real meal of the day was incredible. It included four barbacoa tacos with hot sauce and guac, refried beans, Mexican rice, grilled jalapenos, and a tall boy corona. While inhaling this delicious food, I spoiled myself with a Home Improvement rerun. 

Many of the motels have weird channel subscriptions, and all I can usually find is Fox News and the old nineties sitcoms. After my meal, I muted the TV and got to work. This consisted of editing photos, typing for the tracker, and working on my traditional resume. It feels good to be on the move again. Iowa feels so close, and my homeland calls for me. Soon my friend, and I bring much news from foreign lands. The route for today, here.