And the winner is...

Well, as I’m typing this, Matthew Lee appears to be within only a handful of miles of the finish. I won’t succumb to the temptation to call his arrival too early, however, and declare him the winner just yet; after my riding companion Per’s accident south of Silver City on our last day last year (for those who weren’t paying attention, he fell off, knocked himself cold and had to go to hospital), fear of the curse of the commentator weighs heavily on me.

So, while Matthew knocks out the last couple of miles, a brief digression to catch up. First, apologies for indeed having undersold the story of Matthew having his bike pinched in Grants yesterday. I’d relayed it in amazement so many times – including to next door’s cat and to my baffled four year olds – that I think I just assumed I’d written down what happened. Cleary I hadn’t.

Anyway, to paraphrase the story as I understand it (as reported on the race forum), Matthew was eating a burger, watching his bike out the window, when an unsavoury character strolled up, stared Matthew in the eye and cycled off. Thankfully, the bike was recovered during a case through town and brought back to McDonalds, where it was recovered by Matt.

Also, I should apologise for being so mean about Grants. My impressions of it certainly weren’t great, but then again that might have been something to do with the fact it was preceded by 100 miles of pavement on the alternate from Cuba in 100 degree heat. Or the fact I’d spent most of that time watching Trevor and Per ride further and further away from me. Or the leg-threatening attack made by the hounds from hell in the reservation. Suffice to say I might have been a little jaundiced by the time I arrived.

Silver City, on the other hand, seemed just wonderful to me, but by then I was nearly at the finish and in considerably higher spirits. Even the only example of road rage I experienced on the whole route – except my own anger at the laid-back, road-hogging hippies leaving dusty, smoky trails behind their pickups on their way home from the Rainbow Gathering – couldn’t change my mind. Beauty is clearly in the eye of the beholder.

Back to the race (looks like I’ve another few minutes yet before the winner can be declared), there have been updates from Nicolas Senie and Blaine Nester. Blaine reported standing sideways, hiding behind a power line from hail for twenty minutes. Clearly he’s not been putting on any weight.

Neither has Nicolas, who has said he’s thinner than when he started but has admirably refrained from blaming American food. Indeed, he’s been acting as a mobile representative for the Rocky Mountain Travel Board, persuading dozens of his friends back home that they should forget the Roc d’Azur and head to Colorado instead. Tour Divide as a way to bring nations and cultures together – wonderful. Vive l’entente cordiale!

Also, it looks as though the hail from which Blaine has been suffering has made for painfully slow progress through the Gila. Neither Blaine nor Erik Lobeck managed to make it to Silver City last night, though they’re both within a stone’s throw of having become ‘Gila Proven’ and escaping onto the pavement north of Mimbres. I’m sure both will make it through to the finish some time tomorrow.

And now (cue trumpets), as 80’s glam rock icons Europe might have said, it’s the final countdown. After 2,745 miles. After trial by snow, rain, hail, purgatorial head winds and intense heat. After forest fires. After 17 days, fifteen hours and about 13 minutes. And, perhaps most important of all, after dealing with the emotional rollercoaster of the race itself and the tragic consequences of Dave Blumenthal’s accident, Matthew Lee has won the Tour Divide 2010. Many, many congratulations.

His blue dot has made it to Antelope Wells although, at past 1am local time, there will be no border guards there to meet him, no payphone from which to ring home, no camera crews, no paparazzi and no fanfare (you’ll notice I’m doing my best). He’ll probably just have Barin Beard (aka Mimbres Man) to help expedite his return to some sort of normality. I’m sure he’d have it no other way.

I’ll be back to report on further arrivals and the progress of the remaining racers over the next few days.

Paul Howard

Two Wheels on My Wagon