Another rest day for Spokes, this time in Denver! Mine involved lots of books—I won’t bore you with the details.
The Colorado hill that is actually many, many more hills. (Where is Anna going with this?)
Something I’ve noticed: when we bike, we stick together, but when we rest (i.e., explore), we do so separately. When we bike, we act as one (like a dandelion or Colorado hill or beehive); when we rest, we split into many (like seeds in the wind or an infinite range of rolling hills or a swarm of furious bees unleashed on the world).
Where Anna Is Going With This
All of which is to say—rest day mornings can be a neat window into our team dynamic and individual personalities, especially if you have the luxury of hearing about them from a sharp-eyed, unbiased observer such as myself.
A Spokes Morning
8:30-ish am: I’m sitting in the kitchen, munching happily away on breakfast, when Leo emerges from behind the basement door like an apparition. We good-morning each other, he vanishes, I munch happily away, he reappears to fill his water bottle, and then he vanishes again, this time through the front door. For context, Leo had already planned a route of places in Denver he wanted to explore, and he needed an early start. Leo: always prepared, detail-oriented, curious. 1/2 of “the kings,” a nickname Victoria came up with—though I’ve never actually called him that myself.
9:00-ish am: Everyone else is up and in the kitchen. Alex, the other king (...), is reneging on his promise to accompany (and/or chauffeur?) Victoria to camp outside the Taylor Swift concert venue tonight because they won’t be able to see anything. Laughing her distinctive Victoria laugh (hahahaha hahaha haha hahahaha), Victoria calls him a flake and insists the sonic quality itself is worth the trek. Alex: music connoisseur, non-Swiftie, troll (according to Victoria). Does not fold under pressure.
9:20-ish am: Somehow, Victoria is in her sleeping bag again, arm thrown over her eyes. Victoria: ball of energy who needs her naps, simultaneously troll (according to herself) and introspective, fake deep but also real deep. Eminently quotable.
10:40-ish am: We are almost (i.e., not quite) ready to go. Helen and Jordan are applying sunscreen outside the van (Helen, sunscreening Jordan’s back: oops. Jordan, being sunscreened by Helen: ??).
The Saga
Clown 1 and Clown 2
Helen explains to me that she duct-taped and superglued one side of her glasses frame because she stepped on and broke it Day 2. Helen then explains to me that she duct-taped the other side of her glasses frame to counterbalance the weight of said duct tape. Helen: constantly finding herself in difficult situations of her own making. Whenever I meal prep, she proudly tells me she would eat only one mayo-smeared egg every day of her life. Also Helen: an optimistic, invincible teletubby.
Jordan, who has been giving me the side-eye all morning for no reasonable reason, alternates between cracking a joke and laughing at Helen’s shenanigans. Jordan: warm, resilient weirdo and resident bully. Together, Helen and Jordan are menaces to good society.
Where Anna Is Going With This, Pt. 2
Teamwork is something that hasn’t featured prominently in our blogs so far, but it’s been central to all our experiences of this trip. Of course, this description of a single moment is static, and team dynamics are very fluid—but these are all sides of us that exist, and it seemed a shame not to share them.
Anna
P.S. Where do I fit into all of this? I’m just the fly on the wall. Maybe one day someone else will tell all, but until then…a shroud of mystery I keep.