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.
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