Last night John and I talked about getting into "get home" mode. Where you just twist the throttle, put your head down and get home without hardly looking around. I decided that I wasn't going to just get home on my last day but instead I was going to continue enjoying the ride all the way home. I spent a while looking at the map trying to figure out where I was going to ride on my last day.
This morning John and I shook hands and he rode off right about 7:00. I took a few more minutes to pack and check gear, then headed for a quick McDonalds breakfast, then for fuel and I was on the road about 7:30.
On Saturday we rode the Million Dollar Highway Northbound. On Sunday we road the Million Dollar Highway Southound. Today I'm going to ride it for the 3rd day in a row and go Northbound again. That's not a bad thing.
As I rode through Durango the temperature was just a bit chilly, but not bad. Once I started to climb the first past though the temperatures really plummeted until it was freezing cold. It wasn't as cold as Wolf Creek Pass yesterday, but it lasted much longer and had much more shade. I stopped 4 times under the pretense of taking pictures just to let my hands warm up. I tried to stop in places that I hadn't ever stopped previously so I could get some new perspective.
The biggest difference today from the previous 2 days was the traffic. There was almost no one on the roads. Probably because it was early on a week day. There were no streams of motorcycles, campers. RVs, or rental cars, and the parking lot at the top of passes were nearly empty. Each time I stopped it would be quiet and serene for 5 or 10 minutes at a time before some vehicle came screaming past.
After RedMountain pass I began the section of road that descends into Ouray. It has the most twists and turns. I thought that without all of the traffic I might be able to get a few pictures, but the combination of horrible lighting, a slight haze in the air, and an impatient truck behind me left me once again with few pictures of this incredible stretch of road.
I dropped down the last stretch of switch backs into Ouray and hardly slowed down. I've seen allot of Ouray on this trip and just kept moving. I know that the temperature from here starts getting warmer and I wanted to get through Montrose before the real heat of the day set in. So of course I found a huge road construction project with 30 minute delays, and I was the 4th vehicle in line which meant I had nearly the longest possible wait.
I shut the bike off, lowered the kick stand and got off to get a drink of gatorade. You might have noticed the big red ice chest strapped to the passenger seat of my bike through all of these pictures. It serves 2 main purposes. First of course, it holds up to 6 good size drinks. For me that's often gatorade to help keep me hydrated. It's great to stop by a beautiful scenic vista and pull an ice cold drink out, then just sip and stare out at nature's glory. The second thing is does is hold ice cold water that I can soak a bandana in and wrap around my neck if it gets too warm. I've even splashed my mesh jacket a few times to make it act like a swamp cooler. I haven't needed the bandana much on this ride, but it's there if I need it.
Finally the flag man waved at me to get back on the bike and we started to move through the construction zone. The heat had started to rise while we sat waiting. By the time I got to Montrose it was in the high 80s and I was uncomfortable. I know all my Arizona friends are giggling at that statement, but I'm an acknowledged heat wimp now. I love my 70 degree riding days. I stopped to gas up and the bike and was faced with my first real riding decision of the day.
Do I head East up onto Blue Mesa and Gunnison. Or do I head North to Delta. I've ridden Blue Mesa many many times and I know it's beautiful and cool. I've never ridden through Delta before, but I know it's much the same as Montrose with higher temps, flat roads, and farmland. The main reason to go through Delta is to turn East there and head towards Aspen, the ritzy ski resort. I opted to go North and see what that road is like.
There was no shortage of traffic on the road between Montrose and Delta. It certainly wasn'tlike rush hour in a major city, but I was constantly in a pack of cars and trucks, and many many hay hauling vehicles that I could barely see around and had to pass. It got steadily warmer until I was dripping with sweat, but couldn't get enough consistent speedup to cool off. I was always behind someone going at about 30. In Delta I stopped to soak my bandana in the ice chest. I turned East and left all the traffic behind me. Now the slow vehicles were easy to pass because there were so few and isolated. The temperature didn't change any because I was still running across the same flat valley, but a little speed really helps if the air isn't too hot
About 40 miles out of Delta I neared the mountains and finally began to climb a bit. I came up over one hill to see a small town and instantly saw a police car parked at the side of the road. I checked my speed and was relieved to see I was under the speed limit by 5 miles. I slowed even a bit more and putted through town. As I got to the police car I saw it was empty. It's a trick used by many small towns to convince the tourists passing through to drive safely through their town.
If I haven't mentioned my riding style yet, I tend to ride the motorcycle about 5 miles an hour slower than I normally drive. That means I'm often just a few miles an hour under the speed limit. That can aggrivate vehicles behind me, but I try to be conscious of anyone stuck behind me and pull over if I need to let them pass. I'm usually on a bike rather than in a car because I want to slsow down and enjoy the trip. As the saying goes, the journey IS the vaccation. And besides that, I began riding at 46. I have a lifetime of car driving skills and experience, but only a few years of motorcycle riding. I'll probably never be as good a motorcycle rider as I am a car driver, so I slow down a bit and try to keep a good gap between me and anything in front of me for an extra safety pad. It give me just an extra bit of time to react to anythingthat might happen.
After a series of towns the road began to climb even more. Despite all the climbing the temperature didn't go much below 80. It was comfortable but never got cool. I passed a few lakes and climbed over a pass. I've lost count of how many passes I've crossed on this trip. Probably over 30. And I've crossed the continental divide at least 4 times. After the pass, the road quickly descended to another valley and the temperatures went right back up into the high 80s. I'd thought this route would be very cool this far North, but it sure wasn't. As I neared the main highway to Aspen it climbed up into the 90s, and by the time I got to Aspen I was sweating. I idled around the town looking for a free parking spot but couldn't find one. So backed into a spot and bought a parking tag for $2 for an hour.
I set off to find somewhere to eat that was nice and cool. The first place refused to sit me at a table because I was alone. I could sit at a bar in the sun, or at the bar inside at the bar without air conditioning. I had no desire to sit on a hard flat bar stool in the sun, and said so. The lady acted like I should be grateful to eat at their restaurant and be willing to take whatever she condescended to give me. I said no thanks and walked off. I heard her say behind me "good riddance". I checked a few other places, now just looking for something inside with A/C. I found a bar that served sandwiches and sat myself in a nice soft chair facing a table that let me look outside and people watch. It's always fun coming to the ritzy places to see the "beautiful people".
I ordered a soda and a club sandwich and told the waitress to bring the check with the meal so I could eat and get back on the road. She understood exactly and hurried things along for me. Such a difference in service. Across a small alley from my window, a couple of electricians were wiring lights on a roof top patio. I watched as one electrician reached far over the railing to drill a hole through a wall. He would drill a bit, then disappear inside, then come back out shaking his head and drill some moe. One of the times he came out and drilled, then leaned way over to try to look through the hole. He still had his drill in his hands as he did it. With a soft 'plink' the bit dropped out of the drill and fell 20 feet to disappear in a flower bed. The look on his face nearly doubled me over with laugher. I've been there and had things like that hapen to me so I could sympatize with the "what else could go wrong" look. He never did find his drill bit but he got the wire through the hole somehow.
I watched allot of roller bladers, bikers, hikers, and joggers come and go through the little park nearby. I also saw many many couples, old and young, some obviously happily married and others trying real hard to ignore each other. I saw several families with some real contrasts. I saw one family where the father had one child on his shoulders, the mom carrying another, and the others holding their hands talking, pointing, and really enjoying the day. Then another where the mother and father with sweaters across their backs and the arms tied in front walked along. Someone that was probably a nanny pushed a baby carriage and held the hand of another child. Any noise from the kids and the mom would turn around to make a sharp commentto the nanny. I couldn't hear what was being said, and I could be totally mistaken about who and what they were, but it made me miss my kids and grandkids.
After my meal, I thanked the waitress and left a nice tip. I walked back to my bike and rode over to a nearby gas station to gas up. I was nearly knocked over when I saw the price. Nearly a full dollar higher per gallon that I've paid anywhere else. Incredible. I put in just enough to get me to te next town and rode off. Unfortunately for me, the next town is 80 miles away and over a major pass.
Independecne passsits just East of Aspen. It's one of the highest and most spectacular passes in Colorado, and the roads on each side are fun to ride. It's so high that it doesn't open until well into the summer, and often gets hail and even snow all through the summer. The last time I rode over it I got soaked to the skin in a torrential rain storm, then had to ride 50 miles shivvering to find a hotel.
Today the skies were partially cloudy but no sign or sound of rain or thunder. The traffic was very light. I let anyone that came up behind me pass, and several vehicles I came up behind did the same for me. The road narrows to nearly a single lane is several spots, but since I'm on a bike it was never much problem. I'd heard a few people talk about meeting massive RVs on the road and having to back up hundreds of feet to let them pass, but nothing like that today. I did pass several large groups of motorcycles. I hadn't seen any other big touring bikes parked in Aspen so they must be eating somewhere other than the main part where I ate.
The road winds and climbs steadily through a narrow valley. Tall mountains on each side lifting up into the bright clouds. There was so much contrast between the clouds and shaded valley floor that it was hard to get a decent picures. The noon day sun also makes pictures look very flat and boring. Eventually the road climbs out of the tree line to grassy hills. The final climb is cut deep into the side of the mountain. I stopped for a few more pictures looking back down, then rode the last 1/4 mile up onto the pass.
Unlike this morning's passes, this parking lot was very busy. It took me a while to get a gap in the tourists to take a picture of my bike by the Independence Pass sign. Since I'm alone, I have to setup the tripod, move the bike in, start the timer, run back to get in the picture, then quickly ride the bike out, all while tourists glare at you for making them wait 30 seconds to take their own picture. Well, no one glared or even made a comment, but that's how I feel as I try to insert myself in the stram of picture taking.
I drank another gatorade and chatted with a guy about where I'd been and ridden. He told his wife he was going to do a ride next year on his bike without her. She nodded and said "sure dear". I could tell she didn't think it would happen, but I could tell if she just would let it happen, or if she just knew him well enough to know it wouldn't. They drove off towards Aspen and another car pulled in and the husband started asking almost the exact same questions. He though just wished me a good ride and walked off with his wife hand in hand to climb up to some of the views.
I finished my drink and some beef jerky. Then started down the rode. As I said, the last time I was up here, I got drenched by rain. I was going the same direction, but because of the rain I hadn't had a chance to see any of the surrounding scenery. The road descends right underneath the pass rather than winding away across the mountain so their were beautiful views of the road and the switchbacks from the top. The forrest was a rich dark green color without any evidence of bark beetle infestations. So much of the forrest I've seen on this ride has brown dead pine trees sprinkled all through it. But here the forrest looked pristine. It was beautiful.
I rode slowly enjoying the views. Far too quickly I found myself at the bottom and beginning the shallow descent towards highway 285. That highway kind of signalled the end of the casual ride. The highway is very very busy. It's the main artery that connects most of the small town. I pulled out into the flow of traffic, twisted the throttle and started the final leg of the journey.
As I rode the 25 miles to Buena Vista (here in Colorado it's pronounced with a long Uand without the W sound), the clouds began to gather. I heard the rumble of thunder off to my right, and as I pulled into the gas station spatterings of rain began to fall. I had planned to relax a bit here, but instead I stayed on the bike, gassed quickly and headed right out. It continued spitting on me, and in the rearview mirror I could see sheets of rain falling on the town. I passed a semi truck pulling up the hill outside of town and kept riding. Within 10 minutes I rode out into sunshine. The clouds behind me were angry black clouds with many lightning strikes, but ahead of me was nearly clear skies. It's like that in the mountains, often the storms hug the mountain tops and Buena Vista is at the base of the Collegiate peaks with names like Princeton and Colombia.
There is a 30 mile stretch of road here that I hate driving or riding. It's very flat and straight, and for some reason it makes people think they can go whatever speed they want. People routinely go 90+ miles an hour on this road. For me what it really means is that cars often pass you without you ever seeing them in your rearview mirror because they come up behind you so fast. The first sign you have that you're being past is the sudden rumble of their engine right beside you. I've been scared so bad my heart jumped many times. The other stupid thing these people do is to pass you without ever slowing down or bothering to wait for a passing section. It fairly flat but there are small hills and a few curves and I've been passed on all of them. This time I was passed in a shallow right hand turn around a hill by a big black lifted truck. There was a car on the far side and I had to hit my brakes as the truck swerved back my lane. I'd had no notice of the truck till he was beside me and had already begun to decelerate when we cleared the hill and saw the oncoming car. The truck just casually pulled right back into my lane without bothering to see if he was past me. Then I saw a black puff of smoke from his exhaust and he accelerated to over 100 and shot away. Idiots. I hate this section of road.
As I neared the end of the flat roads I could see more black clouds gathered around Pike's Peak. A very obvious slope of clouds showed a storm front coming from South to North right across my riding route. I climbed one last pass into the hill and began riding through trees, meadows, and small towns. It began to spit rain again so I stopped at a gas station to see if a real storm was developing. I also needed to stand up and walk around a bit. I was in the lee of the building so no rain was hitting me. The wind picked up and began blowing dirt and dust but I was snug in my little pocket of calm air. If I looked out past the ends of the building I could see the ran slanting sideways. Looking away from the building I could see a rough outline slowly form where the rain hit. After 5 minutes the front passed and the wind slackened. The rain dropped to only an occasional drop here or there. I opted to leave the rain suit off and continue riding.
As I got near the town of device though, I could see sheets of rain falling just ahead of me. I decided that letting the rain pass would be more fun than riding so I pulled into a little BBQ place that I know and went in for a meal. The place was empty so I chatted with the owner about the rain, my ride, her family, and just general small talk. A few people came and went ordering take out and giving their opinions of how long the rain would last. It still hadn't rained here, but several were returning from Colorado Springs and reported heavy rain on the road leading there. I munched my pulled port, sipped a diet coke and enjoyed break.
After 30 minutes I figured I better get going, rain or no rain. I still left the rain suit off because the thick clouds seem to have moved on. I rode through Woodland Park on wet roads, but no rain. I was about 1/3 of the way down the canyon when the first big drops hit. I finally decided it was time. I pulled off into the parking lot of a closed restaurant and got the rain suit out. It's a bright lime green cloth that feels almost like paper. It's water proof but seems to let some air breath through so it's not as stifling as some rain suits I've seen. It's also fun putting it on in the wind as it blows around...like paper. I often hop around and around trying to get it to hang long enough to get my other arm in the hole as the wind whips it all around, or as I try to get my 2nd foot in. I kept my riding boots on and tried to scrunch the pant legs up enough to just slip them over. It's must be such a dignified sight to see one foot in, and me trying to hold the other leg up and slip it over those boots. I've come near to knocking the bike over in the past since it's the only thing I can lean on. This was a good day and I nearly got the leg over the second boot and only had to jerk one small second that got caught. I would take my boots off, but then I'd be standing on muddy asphalt in my socks.
I picked a great time to suit up because only 1 mile later I was in a major down pour.
I tried lowering my helmet visor, but my glasses instantly fogged up, and the sun shade on the visor made it very hard to see under the darkening skies. I pulled off onto a small driveway, stuffed my glasses into a pocket, then took the helmet off and tried to rip the sunshade off. It took 30 seconds to get a fingernail under the glued down plastic but I did it without having to get off the bike and look for tools. I folded the $30 fog city sun shade in half and tucked it in a saddle bag. I've never been much impressed with it anyway. My head was soaked but I put the helmet back on and left my glasses in my pocket. When I lowered the shade and wiped my glove across the front of the shield I could see. I pulled back out and continued down the road. I'm not sure why, but water began to seep into my left boot. Oh well, it's only a minor nuisance.
I left the main highway in Manitou. I pulled through a couple of turns and headed into Garden of the Gods. I figured with this rain, there wouldn't be many tourists and I could cut through quickly and save myself 10 miles of Freeway. The roads were clear but I underestimated the tenacity of tourists. There were 3 van loads of kids stopped a balancing rock to take pictures. Many held umbrellas, but most of the boys were running around flapping their arms in the rain and climbing all over. I stopped just to watch the spectacle. The teachers or chaperones or whatever just sat in the vans and let the kids go.
I rode on through the park and towards home. By the time I was on the freeway the rain had dropped to a drizzle, and by the time I was home it had completely stopped. I pulled up into the driveway and parked the bike. The garage door opened and my grandson Beckham stepped through and said "Hi Poppop". It's nice to be home, maybe I can get a little rest now.
Stopped at the top of a pass on the Million Dollar Highway
YABVTR - Yet Another Beautiful View From The Road
Red Mountain Pass on the Million Dollar Highway
Dedication plaque
Wildlife. I hit a deer 4 years ago in Southern Utah. I don't recommend the experience.
This one actually stopped and listened for traffic before crossing.
Ouray Colorado
Riding past a lake up near Aspen
Scenic picture without roads in it.
Surprisingly hot road leading into Aspen
Downtown Aspen
A fountain and many restaurants in Aspen. Lots of kids were playing in the fountain cooling off
Sticker shock on gas in Aspen. $1 more per gallon than elsewhere.
The highway leading out of Aspen towards Independence pass
More pictures without roads
The road narrows nearly to 1 lane at points
YABVTR
You can see the road climbing left to right up out of the tree line onto Independence Pass
Looking back down the road from the top
Another section of road
The final climb up onto the pass. Clouds starting to gather.
Ontop of the pass
Looking out across the pass. Still some large patches of snow up here.
Looking across the parking lot and up to a nearby peak. Many people are hiking up the peak.
Looking down at the road off the pass
YABVTR
Switchback leading down off the pass
Getting near Divide and the big black clouds ahead
