By Katie Macarelli
Photo Credit: Megan Hottman
A few days ago I was reading a music review from the newspaper. The song the review focused on was described as "Alt Rock Meets Americana". Coincidentally on the same day 303 asked me to write something up for Pedal the Plains. This phrase is the perfect descriptor for my weekend at the Pedal the Plains. I'll explain the "Alt Rock" a little later, but Eastern Colorado is obviously the "Americana".
I grew up on a (still operating) dairy farm in Burlington, CO. I loved the town, the people, the closeness, the predictability of harvest, the unpredictability of tornados, my family, our farm, all of it. However, once I graduated high-school, and went to CU Boulder, I fell in love with the Front Range. I had literally never been hiking in the mountains until one week into my freshman year when I hiked (and fell off of) the Flat-Irons. Luckily I was hiking with a grad student who was a paramedic, but that's another story. When I first saw Pedal the Plains advertised in the Denver Post, I jumped up and down in my kitchen and pretended I was a cowboy riding a horse and roping calves.
My two little girls were amused. My husband was disturbed. "You should find a friend to do that with you!", he encouraged. Which translated to: "I will NOT be doing that with you. Have fun." And fun I WOULD HAVE, because a few days later, my friend Megan asked if I wanted to be her team-mate for a Pedal the Plains Contest that she'd won. She'd be blogging about the experience in exchange for two free entry-fees. My response? "Yes, yes, double yes!" (with more simulated horse riding and roping motions).
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