I thought I was done climbing - Day 48: Denver, CO to Palmer Lake, CO

Today involved a lot of dirt and gravel, which I'm happy to deal with when it's in small pieces and relatively packed, so long as it gets me off the shoulder of a busy highway. The Cherry Creek Trail got me out of Denver and half the way to Palmer Lake today, followed by some county roads that climbed back up to about 7200 feet.

I probably should have checked the elevation profile before heading out. I was running low on energy when I spotted a Burger King in the distance, which caused me to yell "Bargar Karng!!!" and sprint for it. I thought this was hilarious. Being really hungry can do that. I ate too many rodeo cheeseburgers.

On the way to Palmer Lake, I met a rancher who refilled my water and told me about his son, who took a trip like this. I also met a woman who was just riding the hills for exercise, who told me about her career as a fiction writer and wished me good luck to Palmer Lake since it was getting dark. She recommended a good bar named O'Malley's.

I found O'Malley's after dark, approximately 10 PM. I had a beer before it came out that I was trying to cycle across the country, at which point the usual questions followed - "Why? How'd you end up here of all places?" etc. Being off-route meant that my presence was a bigger deal than normal. I took a selfie with the bartender, who told me about her life up until this point. An old guy named Mike found out I was originally from California, at which point he said I should stay off his mountains, and that it was a shame since he almost liked me. I responded that it was a shame about the single-letter typo they made in naming the nearby Pike's Peak. You know, instead of Mike's Peak. It felt clever at the time.

Four vacationers at a nearby table talked with me a bit before secretly paying my tab, meaning that I got a grill-it-yourself burger and several beers for free. I'd be lying if I didn't overhear their request and order an extra beer. They came in an RV, I figure they would've wanted me to have a good time. Someone else asked if I was a "rennie", and explained that there was a semi-permanent renaissance fair down the road. Many of the workers there make a living working the ren-fair circuit, which I didn't know was a legitimate career option. I later spoke with a real rennie who made his living as a traveling leatherworker, having quit his default-world job for many of the same reasons I left mine.

I didn't bother anyone for a place to stay, but Mike did mention that I was less likely to be discovered on the west shore of the nearby lake. I found a spot right on the water's edge that seemed hidden from most angles and slept there, though I was occasionally awakened by freight trains passing about twenty feet away.