The town that we stayed in last night was apparently compromised of some late starters, because nothing opened before 8am. That was too late for us, so we had to backtrack a little to a previous town to fill our water jugs and stomachs. After departing, we had a routine 50 mile ride. This city has a different meaning for us than when we set out over a month and a half ago, but we have arrived in Pueblo, Colorado.
When we got to the outskirts of Pueblo, it felt a bit like a mix between a level from an old Tony Hawk game and a neighborhood from Grand Theft Auto. There were alcohol shops on every corner, low riders in the streets, and an auto body shop named "Reasonably Priced Auto Body." We made our way through the streets to a local brewery. After a few rounds and I'm not sure how much time, we decided to head to a motel. It was too hot for camping and no WarmShowers hosts got back to us, so we had no other choice. About a block away from the motel, I heard a slight woosh followed by a "ffttt fftt ffftt" sound with each revolution of my wheels. I had my first flat of the trip. I've gone somewhere around two thousand miles and haven't had any issues with my tires yet, so I knew it was coming. Like Icarus, I had flown too close to the sun I suppose. It might sound backwards, but I think situations like this give more reason to believe that a higher being exists; it's just too scripted. Of course I got a flat on the second to last day. I had seen Chris fix his tires so many times that I had learned how to do it, as well.
Tomorrow is our last day of riding. We will be heading up to Colorado Springs, which is somewhere around 50 miles away. It hasn't hit me yet that we won't be riding beyond tomorrow. I'll have to start to slow my eating down so that I don't gain 10 lbs back immediately. Although I am looking forward to eating well, I will miss the ability to eat anything without remorse. Well, all good things must come to an end; any other cliches I can throw in here?