CTR: A journey of subtle and not so subtle mistakes

Day 3:

Morning dawns bright and dry (well everything is soaked, but at least its not raining) We climb Searle Pass.  Lots of hike-a-bike, but some nice riding too. Scott and I stop for a snack on the big rocks at the summit. To get to Kokomo Pass you stay high in the alpine amongst beautiful flowers (and sing some beach boys). Scott is having mechanical trouble- his crank is trying to fall off and I stop to help him a couple of times. Then he realizes he lost his sunscreen, then his camelback explodes in his pack.  He is having his day. I assure him these things come in threes. The crank is still trying to fall off so he sends me off to Leadville and he follows stopping every so often to retighten it.  I eat at Safeway, call in, dry my gear, talk to lots of curious people and then finally get a new tire at Cycles of Life (my Racing Ralph was showing some wear and a couple partial thickness sidewall slices.) Scott made it in and was getting help too.  Now BuenaVista and the Eddyline brewpub are on my mind. Andy and I reach the singletrack at the same time and he compliments some technical climbing I did. This somehow translates into me not wanting to let him down and proceeding to clean almost every hill between here and BV (and there were some big ones!) I'm feeling good and riding well after actually eating!  Somehow I thought BV was right on the other side of Twin Lakes.  I'm pretty sure this delusion was due to the fact that the only map/trail description that I carried were the detour maps that Jarral made for me. I know this sounds like lunacy, but I had backpacked the trail last year so I felt like I knew my way around. So the two maps between Leadville and BV abutted nicely, merely leaving out 15 miles of single-track and hills. :)  (Mistake 6- no databook- which sometimes played to my favor) A thunderstorm coming down the valley had me hustling and I bombed the downhill as the rain started hitting the road just as it became a deluge. I threw on rain gear.  I was now racing down the dirt road in hopes of outrunning the storm tailing me in the West.  I lost. I glanced wistfully at abandoned buildings and outhouses but the Eddyline remained the driving force in my mind, as well as granting myself permission to get a hotel room. So down the road I raced cold, wet and dark approaching.  I rigged up my lights and continued in the rain down the highway (don't worry Mom there was a really wide shoulder and little traffic!) The lightning had me scared though I was not on a ridge, and I found myself counting between the thunder claps and lightening bolts.  I feared I had missed the road detour but figured I'd come back and do it in the morning if I had to. But there it was!  The dirt railroad grade. Now cold, wet, dark and MUDDY.  I questioned my sanity as I passed the flash flood warning signs and then the falling rock signs. And as I headed through the tunnels I came across my first oncoming traffic.  I made it.  The Eddyline was open and willing to take a muddy, wet biker.  I had soup and ordered the burger I had been racing for, only to find myself unable to eat it :(.  I turned off my tracker (prompted by a fellow dinner assuring me that I was being followed by a tan suburban) as  I went to find a hotel but balked at the $135 price tag.  I was dejectedly heading back to find the baseball dugouts when Andy intercepted me and kindly offered a bed in his hotel room. Shower and a bed! We laughed at the nick-nackery cluttering the room and tried not to loose our bike gear in it as we spread it to dry.