Rascal 10/4/2013

A new ride! Rascal, a 2014 Ultra Classic Screamin' Eagle, has found a home in our garage. He sits there in chromatic glory, sparkling with newness and smugly wearing his low mileage. Deep red and maroon custom paint, sporting "dragon's tail graphics" led to his name. In reference to the paint job, Jules wanted to call him Puff... too many connotations. So, as the song goes, "Little Jackie Paper loved that "rascal" Puff... And so we now have a Rascal. 

As he glistens tonight in his new home, he has no idea of the adventures that await, the roads to be taken, the curves to be leaned. He will be dirty, he will be tired and he will gain many miles. The best hope that he can have is that he will be more than Magic.

8/20/2013 Ch-ch-ch-changes

Monarch called to us, so the first thing out on Tuesday, we climbed to the top of the pass. From 90 degrees, we rose to 40 and in our hot weather tank tops, we were chilled. At the pass we chatted with another biker from the area. He doesn't own a car, so the bike is his life and he lives it every day. Talking about the rain looming everywhere, he echoed our sentiments exactly. " Cold or hot, wet or dry, riding is still what it's all about".

Back down the sinuous curves of the pass, we ran onto route 50 again into the best canyon yet. The Big Horn Sheep Canyon runs forever along the beginnings of the Arkansas River. Great for intermediate enthusiasts, the river was crowded with kayaks and rafts. Although we saw no big horn sheep, we kept watching the cliffs overshadowing the road, as they were prime territory for them. On and on the river cuts the rock, until it creates the Royal Gorge. 

Showcasing one of the world's highest suspension bridges, The Royal Gorge is a great draw for tourists and we had visited the north rim years ago by car.  A small, unimproved road announced the south rim, with a sign that read "bridge closed". Jules thought that this was a good omen to see the other side. The road twisted up and up, navigation made difficult by washes of gravel across the road, caused by erosion from a recent fire. As we rose in height, the destruction from fire was complete. No recovery or green was apparent.  At the final turn into the gorge, we were met by a ranger and told that the park would be closed indefinitely because of the fire that had taken place in June.On the way down, we hiked out onto seared barren ground to find the gorge. At 100 degrees plus, it felt like the ground was still hot. We could not see the gorge, but we experienced , first hand, the total devastation a forest fire can bring.

Through Canon, we headed down to Pueblo. Here the air is cheaper and we can sleep at night. Sheltering from the heat, we made the decision to bag our plane tickets and ride East, based on several factors. First, we needed air. But most importantly,  we decided to take Magic home, rather than catch the plane in Durango and have her hauled cross country for her last ride - because we are getting another bike. Magic has been so good to us. All we have ever had to do is add gas ...but at 65,000 miles, it is worrisome to be 20 miles in the middle of a burnt forest on an old lady that might say she's too tired to go on. So crossing America, we will ride with her for the last time. What a great bike she has been!

8/19/2013 Sunny Side Up

Every day is a birthday because you're celebrating another day of life! On the bike, the celebration gets raucous!

Harley Davidson chose my day of birth to give birth to the 2014 models. Magic was leaking some oil, so we checked in at Avalanche in Denver. We witnessed the bikes being expelled from a tractor trailer and it was almost like witnessing labor, each one coming off wrapped in protection, ready to enter the world. Many new upgrades, my favorite being the touch screen media center with blue tooth, had the biker crowd standing around oohing and ahhing. It was a bittersweet moment because both Magic and we know that her days are numbered.

After a prolonged wait for service, we took off into the hills. And the hills were alive with . . . rain. A brief shower ran us into a great pit stop called The Crossroads. There I had my Birthday Bloody followed by my Birthday Burger, to be concluded with me Birthday Belly ( no photo attached!) Every summer I wait for the perfect moment to have my one burger per year, and it happened today, complete with jerk sauce and jalapeños! Happy birthday to me!!!!!

The rain stopped and we turned out again on route 285 to Fairplay where we took route 9 north after a brief foray with a dirt road that afforded us a beautiful spot to take a break. Mountains surrounding, we rode toward Breckenridge. Small and a little sleepy right now, one can only imagine what this town is like in the winter when the thousands of condos clinging to the mountain fill with skiers.

Break time

Breckenridge 

Copper Mt.

Through Frisco, another charming little tourist stop, we picked up 70 to 91, aptly named The Top Of The Rockies Byway. With elevations rarely below 9000 feet, this breathtaking ( literally and figuratively) ride took us along the edge and over the top of some of the highest peaks in the range. Fremont Pass, at 11,300 was our pinnacle for the day. This byway, a beautifully paved road let us swoop and swerve to our heart's content. The only drawback was the weather.

As we rode toward gaps In the mountain peaks, pockets of dark clouds spewing rain popped up. But in wide sky country,  there are always patches of blue. So, one of my tricks, as we ride into a storm, is to turn my face away and focus on the fair skies. This positive energy keeps me in a happy place. One could learn a lesson in life from my bike technique, except we sometimes get rained on, big time. Today it was just a little.

The exertion of suiting up in emergency mode at 10,000 ft. left us gasping as the rain began to fall in  earnest. Back on the bike, we ran through a few showers but nothing as drastic as the thunder storms we saw in the distance, piercing the mountains with lightening. On to route 24, the byway continued through Leadville that boasts it is the city with the highest elevation in Colorado. Now the stately Collegiate Peaks drifted by, Mt. Yale, Harvard, Princeton, Columbia and Oxford, all over 14,000 ft. The storm clouds surrounding them created an even more dramatic view.

Mt. Princeton 

Down, down in elevation, we drove through Buena Vista to Salina, a mere 6900'. Here we are staying tonight with this proud range of mountains standing over us. A superior ride on a superior bike with my best friend and tour guide presented me with a birthday gift wrapped in love and adventure. Thank you Magic and Jules.

Our view for the night

8/18/2013 Canyon Sweet!

A day of canyons and rivers!

Loveland Harley Davidson was our first stop. Jules wanted to check out the 2014 bikes, but they had no information at all. An unfruitful stop, except we met an old dude who confirmed some of the roads Jules wanted to take that day and gave us a few other hints. So following his advice and Jules' map study, we headed down route 25 to search for the Peak to Peak Highway, Colorado's oldest scenic byway. Finding the way was challenging, but Jules' sense of direction got us through some small towns to Lyons, where today's fun began.

Setting out in a canyon, just as beautiful as any, we ran this road from valley to mountain. We hit a campground at noon, winding down a narrow road to find the perfect spot in the woods for our picnic. A little critter was our companion, but we didn't stay too long because the sky looked a ominous.

After our peaceful lunch in Peaceful Valley, we started to climb. Peak to Peak took us to the clouds and back. Curving blacktop lead us to valley views as we careened out over the edge. Down through Nederland, we picked up 119. Another beautiful canyon road twisted us southward. Lulled by forest and stream, Central City assaulted us with a barrage of casinos and hotels in the Black Hawk area. Even the gas station had a "traveling" casino! Past the conclave of entertainment, traffic from route 70 to the casinos was backed up for miles. Luckily, we were going the other way. 

Through Idaho Springs, we searched for our next adventure, route 103, past Mt. Evans, known as the Squaw Pass. As Magic took us into thin air, the temperature dropped dramatically. The sky darkened and rain, plus the cold forced us to stop, layer on clothes and pull on rain suits. While suiting up, a Mustang convertible turned in next to us. The driver hit the button and his top went up. He commented to us that his way was so much easier than ours. Maybe it's easier, but certainly not as rewarding. In a car, you are merely a driver, steering through life, protected from the elements, not feeling the wind. On the bike, we are the road, and with the wind in our faces, we live the experience, not just drive through it.

If you're not wet, it ain't raining. And so, as we continued on our way, the brief shower ended. The altimeter on the bike blanked out at 10,000 ft., but we kept going up. We passed the entrance to Mt. Evans, the highest drivable peak in the US, but we did not attempt it. Last year we took the pot-holed, moguled, deteriorating, narrow road to the top. With dark clouds covering the peak, we decided once was enough. Over the pass, we began the descent into Evergreen where we unsuited and unclothed as the temperature rose again. 

In Evergreen we picked up route 74 that carried us through ou final canyon of the day, Bear Creek. Once again, surrounded by rock walls, we twirled our way toward Morrison. A slight detour and another winding decrepit road brought us into Red Rocks through the back door. A scattering of shockingly scarlet rocks forms this natural venue for concerts and plays. Here on an off day, we rode easily among the giant sandstone slabs. Confined to roughly one square mile, the formations abruptly end in Denver sprawl. Bizarre in its singular beauty, Red Rocks historically has been a mystical place for the Ancients, and with the overcast sky and empty roads, the feeling was transmitted to the present. 

From here we took a short trip to the outskirts of Denver where we put down the kickstand for the final time today.

There are many reasons for our roads. Some are destinations. Some are wrong turns. But the main reason for the many off-the-wall rides we take is Jules. While I sit, pondering what phrase to turn on my blog, he pores over the map. He's not trying to find out how we can get from here to there. He's searching to find a road that surpasses the last. 

To find the only road we've never been down. 

8/17/2013 What a Ride!!!

Today was a gift that never stopped giving. 

Forty degrees saw us out the door, leathered up with seat heat on high. Rocky Mountain National Park was our first order of business. Being return travelers  (although we missed it last year) we felt rather blasé, as seasoned tourists might. Yet, just as in the past, the ride through blew us away.

I crown Rocky as the Champion of all the Parks! Meeting relatively little traffic ( the kids are back to school), we entered at Grand Lake for our 46 mile ride through heaven. A rapid ascent on The Ridge Road, the longest continuous mountain route in the US, took us first on a deeply forested trek. Almost immediately, a moose appeared, languidly munching the grasses as we passed by. 

As the trees thinned out, we were treated to peeks of snow spotted mountain caps and jagged ridges.

Switchbacks sucked us upward and bike and riders rolled on the waves of the turns. Milner Pass, at over 10,000 feet seemed anticlimactic as we continued to rise.

Above the tree line, the ride became even more exhilarating. Switchbacks were no longer just turns. Flying out over unguarded edges, the imposing range of mauve and purple mountains forced their grandeur on us and we accepted freely. At each turn, the chills moved from the back of my knees to my stomach then to my heart as we soared with the wind.

After 12,000 feet of non-stop sensory overload, we began the descent. Once again the road took us to places where we felt like we were riding off the end of the world. A great day for game spotting, we passed big horn sheep, huddled on the side of the rocks. Amazing animals, they scoot over the mountains and don't even need a highway!

Mt. Julius

Sheep!

Back into the trees, the day warmed up and we relaxed into the downward twists. Another surprise of animals took the form of elk grazing in the forest.

Elk

Out of the park, our day was not done. Following the Big Thompson, we renewed our love affair with this narrow canyon, defined by river turns and walls of carved rock.  A favorite of fly fishermen, casting lessons took place along the way. We watched trout in the clear water at one spot as they laughed at artificial flies. 

Through the Big Thompson, we took a chance on a back road, route 27. These roads are always a crap shoot out here because they often turn to dirt. Not this one. Occupied mainly by us and other local riders, the road was full of twisties , serene farmland and mountain views. 

Jules had yet another surprise in store for me. At the end of 27, we picked up 14, new territory for us. Riding west on the Poudre Canyon Road, we followed the Poudre River ( the locals pronounce it Pooder) through another shocking slice of American beauty. Twisting through farmland and forest, the river suddenly carves into the earth and creates a canyon that surpasses the Big Thompson, in length, height and natural art. A startling discovery for us, we melted into the road like a dream. Unlike many of the canyons we have visited, you can ride the bottom of both of these that we experienced today. Being on the floor, running along the water, you look up in awe at the thousands of years' work it took these rivers to carve natural works of art.

The Poudre

Canyon Road

Lunch on the Poudre

When we ran out of canyon and river, we turned around and did it the other way. This time we followed the road all the way to Ft. Collins and the views along the way were just as impressive as the western route. Ft. Collins, a sprawling baby of a town, houses Colorado State. College move-in and a huge street festival made it impossible to book a room. So we headed out and found one of the last rooms available in Windsor, where we kicked off our boots, washed our faces and ate too much Italian food.

Natural marvels jolted us with their beauty all day long. Some days we ride hours for one thrill. Others we ride, thrilled, for hours. In either case, the hours never seem long. But at the end of a day like today, we sit down, look at other and say "Holy shit .... What a ride!"

8/16/2013 Getting There

Some days you just have to get there the best way you can and in Colorado, the obstacle called the Rockies gives you few choices.

We started the day by highwaying it across route 70. This road always amazes me. An engineering feat, it crosses the state through mountains and amazing rock formations. At a small town named Rifle, we left the interstate and headed through the country on route 13. Through ranch land and barren hills, littered with wounded log cabins and decrepit mines, it took us north along the Routt National Forest to Craig. 

Route 70

Abandoned Mine

Lunch in a park at Craig was shared with kids on bicycles and friendly dogs.  After lunch we headed eastward toward Steamboat Springs via 40. Twisty country roads cut through the heat and a few clouds offered some relief. But by the time we reached Steamboat, we were both done in. 

.

Lunch

One more leg of the journey brought us to Kremmling where we roost for the night. Just outside of Rocky Mountain National Park, we look forward to our climb tomorrow. The ubiquitous Mexican restaurant relaxed and cooled us with Marguerites and Dos Equis. Interesting!

Interesting!

One of the best parts of being on the road is the satisfaction that we take in simple pleasures. How relaxing it is to sit quietly at our picnic and then refreshed, to jump back on the bike. Coming into a cool motel room and kicking off our boots brings great joy. Then, to wash the grime from our hands and face renews us. If we're lucky, we have a clean pair of jeans for the next day and lots of in-room coffee to wake us up. Things that we take for granted at home become gifts not to be accepted lightly. Every day is a new lesson on the road. One we have learned is to appreciate the small things.

8/15/ 2013 A Lesson in Geology

 So many roads. So many changes. Today, geographical and geological diversification kept us engaged to the extreme.

Forty degrees at wake up and as a girl at the gas station mournfully said, "Winter is coming."  I forget how fortunate we are to get at least another month of summer back East. Here, school has already begun and the nights are turning cold.

Our trip began as we headed toward The Flaming Gorge, via Rt. 530. Having no idea what was in store, I set my teeth as we plunged into flat saged desert. The cooler morning temperatures actually made the trip  pleasurable as we followed the road into the horizon.

Into Utah, the land began to heave and rock formations jutted uncannily out of the desert. We rode Route 44 out of Manila, and found ourselves locked into beauty only the singular geology of this state can create. A side trip to Navajo Cliffs gave us our first visual thrill of the day. Red, purple and white rock surrounded us as we gaped at landscape in awe. Little did we know what was yet to come.

This must be Utah!

Flaming Rock

The Flaming Gorge Scenic Highway had just begun to entertain us. The intensifying colors of the rocks gave credence to the Crayola flavors of  Burnt Sienna, along with Brick Red and Cerise. There were also pinks and whites thrown in to temper the riot. As we whisked by the reservoir, the deep blue of the water and the aqua of the sky added to the already brimming palette.

Now on Route 191, up we flew deeper into the Ashley National Forest, one of the most beautifully maintained parks I have ever seen. Constant woodland management was evident as we climbed up into the trees. Proud stands of aspen lined the way, watching us as we passed. A turnout provided a panorama equal to any we have seen. Then the descent. The highway curled back on itself ten times as it wove its way into the valley. Swaying into each switchback we were treated to the primal thrill of man and machine working as one. Few other vehicles passed us and for today, we owned this road! 

Aspens

Passing the Red Fleet State Park, we decided to stop for lunch. Not knowing what to expect, we entered a dream world of unearthly outcrops of multi- colored rock. Swerving down to the picnic area, we met new wonders at every turn. At our destination, we sat overlooking an expanse of water so blue it seemed false. 

The spiritual magic of this spot held us for a longer lunch than usual. Dragging ourselves away, we continued south to Vernal. Flowers festoon the streets of this town, proving its name. Sculptures of dinosaurs line the streets as we enter an area rich with Paleolithic finds. Not only is this Uintah Basin rich in prehistory, but it also holds a wealth of oil. As we forged into the heat of the desert, the sere landscape was interrupted with hundreds of oil wells.

East into Colorado via route 40, we arrived at Dinosaur. Much smaller than Vernal, it's dino display is minimal. Here we picked up highway 64, that took us to Rangely where we jumped onto 139 for a wild ride into the mountains and back. Up 8000 feet to Douglas Pass we breathed thin air and then held our breath at miraculous views and squirrelly turns. At one point, Jules turned and shouted into the wind, "All the other roads are just practice for Colorado."

At the top of Douglas Pass

Down out of the mountain, the heat pump was on. Desert highway and 100 degree heat tend to wear one out. A few welcome clouds gave us the only relief from the scorching sun. Finally at Lona, we turned toward Grand Junction. Great gulps of water and the knowledge that we were almost "home" for the night saw us through the rest of the day. Air conditioning and a cool dip in the hotel pool made us right again and gave us a chance to reflect on a most amazing day.

We rode alone through mountains and desert today. The miracle of our travels is in the turning of an unknown curve to an open expanse of such shocking beauty that our hearts soar, reaffirming that being here together, we are exactly where we're supposed to be.