Day 8 –Friday, June 21, 2013

 I GIVE UP!

OK.  I give up!  I am running out of descriptive terms that actually capture the beauty of this place.  I mean, how does one describe the majesty of the Rocky Mountains or the raw beauty of a mountainous desert terrain?  It really isn’t possible to portray the overwhelming sights that I have been bombarded with during the last two days.  It just seems like each day of this trip is better than the one before it.  Of course, I attribute a lot of that to seeing all of these things for the first time from atop a motorcycle instead of through the tinted windows of an air conditioned car.  The sights and smells assault the senses and it is just a different experience doing it this way.  So, rather than try to describe each sight, I’m going to post a few pictures and then give you an overview of what I saw today.

 

Before I start, I want to tell you that I had my first motorcycle accident today.  I’m all right, but it was a close one.  As I was tooling down some back road through a series of rocky canyons, a prairie dog (or some other sort of rodent) ran out in front of me in a zig-zag pattern.  I only had a microsecond to react and decide if it would be me or the rodent.  The rodent lost.  No one was charged in the incident, but a police investigation is ongoing.  I’m so ashamed …

Now for the serious stuff.  Today was a “mega day” starting at 7 AM and ending around 7:30 PM and I put over 350 miles on the tires.  I left Fort Collins and rode up to Estes Park – a lovely little town that borders the Rocky Mountain National Park.  Sadly, it has become much more commercialized than when I first visited years ago, but it is still a lovely little town that sits on the edge of a natural paradise.  I had breakfast at a little local place and sat on the patio looking at mountains that are stil topped with snow.  From there, I headed up to the park and what a ride!  Beauty that assaults the senses at every turn and roads that have a lot of those “fun parts” I told you about.  These winding roads take you to an altitude of over 12, 700 feet before beginning to wind their way back down.  Two lessons learned:

1.     If you are going to dismount your ride and walk a pretty hefty distance to get that “perfect picture”, remember that there is a lot less oxygen up here and you have to walk back to where you started (in my case, it was an uphill walk).  The paramedics say I'll recover ...

2.     If you are astride a motorcycle, remember to bring winter riding gear, because there is at least a 30 degree temperature drop from the bottom to the top.  This I was prepared for, with a “dickie” (again, let’s forego the crude remarks) for my neck, winter riding gloves, a riding jacket with a wind resistant layer and a quilted layer underneath that can be added or removed as required.  Am I glad I took up some of the limited space in my luggage for this stuff!

Also, did I mention the cliff hugging roads without guard rails?  But that's OK ... if you do drive a couple thousand feet down a ravine, I'm pretty sure that the National Park Service is required to retrieve you ...  Also, the high crosswinds that were blowing so hard, I had to lean my bike into them to keep going straight.

After descending from the high point, I came upon the Continental Divide – supposedly the point where, if water is poured on it, half will flow towards the Pacific and half towards the Atlantic.  I don’t know … I poured some water on it and it just sat on top of the ground for a while then soaked in …

 See the water I poured out?  You should have seen the look on the face of the lady who took the picture!

Once out of the park, I again stuck to my back road philosophy and rode through such places as Rabbit Ears Gap, Nine Mile Gap, the town of Rifle (who names a town “Rifle”), Steamboat Springs (a world famous ski resort and a pretty cool little town) and a whole bunch of other tiny little patches in the road that are referred to as towns.  By the way, I saw a sign in the men's room of a gas station in Rifle that sad: “Please dispose of chew in the trash can, NOT the urinal” … a sage bit of advice for all of us indeed.  By the way, gas is fifty cents per gallon less expensive in Colorado than it is in New York …

Another thing I saw while riding today was two huge forest fires.  Well, I didn’t actually see the fires but I did see the huge, billowing clouds of smoke rising over the mountain tops.  The girl at the gas station in Rifle told me that this has been one of the driest springs ever, coming on the heels of a winter that brought below average snowfall.  Hard to even imagine after the spring the Midwest and Northeast have had!  I’m telling you, I have the formula for the financial resurgence of the northeast … run big pipes from the Great Lakes to the Southwest and charge by the gallon!

I ended the day by riding along Interstate 70 to Grand Junction, Colorado.  Now, I know I suggested staying off of the Interstates, but in this case, I had two choices … take the Interstate or don’t go to Grand Junction.  Pretty simple.  Anyway, I must admit that the ride down I-70 through Western Colorado was stunningly beautiful.  The road is carved out of some of the most unique and fascinating dessert rock formations I have ever seen.  Against my standard wisdom, this is one Interstate ride I must recommend.  The real problem is that there is absolutely nowhere to stop for pictures.

I finally exited for the hotel, took the bike to a  “do it yourself” car wash to clean of all the bugs (as well as any residual rodent stuff) and then checked into the hotel.  The most rewarding day of this trip yet was over, but I’ve got a feeling tomorrow will be a home run also.

I’m exhausted and going to bed.  My apologies for any typos.  I’m lovin’ this little adventure!