Distance: 60.9 mi, Climbed: 1,122 ft
Completed: 2,348.5 mi, 107,040 ft
Sixty miles of open road lay ahead of us, with the forecast threatening a blistering 100 degrees. On a route with zero shade and only two small towns in sight, an early start wasn’t just a preference—it was a survival strategy. To make things more interesting, we are in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. The climbing had begun.
Thankfully, Tanner and her hotel team were on it. Even though the breakfast buffet didn’t open for a couple hours, they packed us a breakfast box for a 4:00 AM pickup. The eggs were piping hot, the orange juice was ice-cold, and by 4:30 AM, Rich and I were on our bicycles.
Using our front lights to navigate the pitch-black darkness, we pedaled past the overnight parking lot for trucks, watching drivers sip their coffee as they climbed into their rigs to start their own days.
Soon after, the sky began to break. A sunrise on the road is a spectacular sight. It instantly fills me with hope for the day ahead. By 5:30 AM, the darkness was gone. I packed away my headlight, slathered on sunscreen, and focused on the horizon.
For the next hour, it was nothing but straight, flat roads cutting through endless, sweeping fields.
Then came Haswell, Colorado. Thank goodness for Haswell. Seeing the town’s towering grain elevator in the distance was a massive relief, as this was the only town on our route (or so we thought) where we could escape the sun and grab a snack. We stopped at the gas station, S&K Fuel & Repair, where we had a wonderful chat with the owner, Karl. He shared stories about his wife and kids, noting that only about 35 people call Haswell home. He warned us that the next town west, Arlington, was even smaller. In fact, Karl’s buddy Dustin was currently its only resident. Ahead of us lay beautiful farmland, passing traffic, and absolutely nothing else until Ordway. Got it.
When we rolled through Arlington just after 9:00 AM, the thermometer already read 94 degrees. It was turning into a furnace out there, and then the wind hit us. Brutal, relentless gusts began blowing me across the blacktop. And watch out for the tumbleweed!
Since the road lacked a proper shoulder and the incline was picking up, I didn’t want to risk getting pushed into traffic. I decided to play it safe, walking my bike up some of the steeper inclines while admiring a row of seemingly abandoned railroad cars along the route.
We knew there was a tiny town called Sugar City about six miles before Ordway. According to our Adventure Cycling information, there were no convenience stores or restaurants there. Google Maps showed a café, but it was marked as closed. As we rode into town, we passed what appeared to be that very café. Something made me think, What if Google is wrong? I walked up to the door just as a woman was about to flip the sign from Open to Closed.
Her name was Lynette. She explained that she normally closes at 2:00 after the lunch rush, but since the sign was still showing Open when I arrived, she invited Rich and me inside. We were so appreciative. While Lynette washed dishes and a father and son finished their lunch, Rich and I cooled off with ice cream and Gatorade. It was exactly what we needed on such a hot afternoon.
We asked Lynette why Google Maps listed the Sugar City Café as closed. She laughed and said that all of her regular customers already know she’s open—they certainly aren’t checking Google before coming in. Rich suggested that updating Google Maps might help future TransAmerica cyclists, since the route passes right through Sugar City. Lynette happily gave him permission to submit the correction. I’m happy to report that the Sugar City Café in Sugar City, Colorado, is no longer listed as closed on Google Maps. Hopefully, many more weary cyclists will now discover the same welcome stop that Rich and I almost missed.
We didn’t entirely beat the heat, but we successfully conquered a long, grueling day of mileage, rolling into Ordway by 3:15. Our first stop was the Sinclair gas station for me to get some chocolate milk.
After washing up at the hotel, we walked into town for dinner. Walking down Main Street felt like a trip through time. Ordway must have been a bustling, vibrant spot back in the day. While local businesses and folks were still around, about half of the storefronts stood boarded up. We stopped by the large local supermarket to stock up on food and drinks for tomorrow’s breakfast and ride, then headed back to Sinclair to grab pizza at their restaurant.
Strolling back to the hotel after dinner, we watched the sun dip below the horizon. Watching the sunset after starting the day in the pitch black felt like the perfect conclusion. It was a beautiful, exhausting, full-circle day.
