I tweeted last week that I wish I’d been excited about the “GIANT AMAZING BIKE RIDE COMING THROUGH GOLDEN!” Snooze. I just didn’t care. There had been signs up for weeks notifying residents of street closures and my small town was prepping heavily for an onslaught of visitors. Bands played in the parks. Shops downtown were lined with bike-related t-shirts and other touristy finds. The few open streets were full of drivers making haphazard u-turns.
I shook my fist at the sky. Go home, tourists! Go home!
(Who am I? An 80 year old man?)
I’m not a cyclist. I own bikes. I occasionally ride them. I often guilt trip myself for not being on them more. And oh, I fall off of them too. (Surprise, surprise.) But with guests in town* and most of the streets closed, it made sense to at least wander to the end of my street to see the dudes in spandex fly by. My friend Sheila invited many of the neighbors over for breakfast. With champagne in hand, we wandered down to watch the race.
Sheila, of course, was on fire. She’s a rabid cycling fan, to say the least, and a former national competitor. She was, one might say, all too pleased/smug when at the first flash of neon jerseys I had a huge smile on my face.
While our view of this stage was over in a moment, it was really fun to watch. She was right. And I’m not sure there is a better example of extreme athleticism than dudes who climb 10,000 feet mountains on bikes, when frankly it makes most of us light headed to do so in cars.
Yet another incredible Colorado experience!
*It was pretty fantastic to have the Tuckers in town with such entertainment. We sat on my patio Saturday night having dinner and watched unexpectedly as a huge firework show happened in downtown Golden. I was like, “See? Do you see the lengths I go to for my guests?!” We all giggled. Love that family. Very thankful they decided to spend their vacation with me. It was all too hilarious to hear their adorable son Liam walk around the house parroting, “Nelson, No!”