Riding alone means having nothing to distract me from me

I got so used to riding with people that I truly didn’t look forward to riding solo. I asked people if they would ride the 64-mile Old Man Winter course with me and I was met with “no.”

So it was either don’t ride at all or buck up and ride by myself. I looked to see how far of a drive it was to the course start — 64 minutes. I realized this would be a day, like, an all-day thing. I want into that.

So then I was like, “Well, what gravel is around here that I don’t have to drive to?” I needed a few hours and solid practice on gravel, dirt, ice, climbs, and all the things I’ve heard about this course.

First, I scheduled social media posts for clients, then for myself, then practiced Adobe Illustrator. I checked the weather. I started my laundry.

After several hours of procrastinating, I finally got outside.

The plan was to be a bit adventurous: go to Chatfield and find the path that encircles the reservoir. I went an extra mile down a dirt path trampled by horses. A mixture of deep pits, choppy gravel, and loose sand had me questioning my decision to explore.

I took myself off the path, thinking it’d connect me to where I wanted to go, and instead, I found myself in a thicket of trees and grass and no path.