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!"
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