CO Trip 06/13-22/2021
2015 BMW R1200GS
061321
Colorado Springs > Gunnison
I slept poorly last night, anxious for the trip to begin; watched the clock strike each hour amidst a lot of tossing and turning. Finally got up about 7:00 and left before 8:00. A few minutes later what little traffic there was through Turkey Creek Ranch south of Colorado Springs came to a polite halt to allow several gobblers to strut their way across the road.
Stopped riding after only 30 minutes for breakfast at the Coyote Den in Penrose, a much frequented favorite haunt during drives back and forth to the tiny cabin I built at Locke Mountain Ranch years ago. Was good to catch up with Pete, the owner. Continued further south to Florence, then west meandering through the miniature—by Colorado standards—9,500’ Wet Mountains. I find these mountains, not unlike the San Gabriel’s surrounding my home in California, very attractive because they remind me so of the Great Smoky Mountains Nancy and I backpacked many years ago. Beautiful, rugged at times, otherwise undulating great mounds.
Felt good riding the bike down familiar country roads through some of my very favorite places in Colorado: the Wet Mountain valley to the remote town of Westcliffe under the ancient, towering Sangre de Cristo Mountains. I don’t remember ever having seen the meadows so bright green under the ever present deep blue sky punctuated by small scuttling brilliant white clouds. 70°. A light breeze. Absolutely incredible scenery to fly through as if a bird, yet a bird nagged by a question I preferred not to answer: Why did I move out of Colorado?
Couldn’t make myself stop to take photos... anxious to get day one behind me and better familiarize myself with the BMW R1200GS, the largest bike I’ve ever owned.
Lots of memories as I gazed across the foothills to the wilderness of Locke Mountain Ranch where I spent so much time alone—something I cherished then when I had Nancy to return to, something I very much dislike now that I have no one to return to.
Approached the vast valley fronting the seemingly unending chain of high, snow capped mountains to the southwest of Westcliffe. What a great ride, one that I have wanted to make for 25 years. Descended to Hwy 50 (past Ron Thomasson’s ranch) mirroring the course of the not so mighty, yet very handsome Arkansas River. I was reminded once again of how small several of the west’s major rivers are in comparison to the great rivers of the Midwest.
Arrived in Salida, passing from the Sangre de Cristo’s into the Collegiates buttressed by Mt. Princeton and Mt. Yale.
Climbed up over 11,000’+ Monarch Pass to cross the Continental Divide and then descended into the watery wet world of western Colorado. Forty-five minutes later I pulled up to Gunnison’s The Dive Bar & Pub for a rest and a burger. A brief 20 minute final ride followed to arrive at the ABSOLUTELY-NO-SHADE-IN-SIGHT Steven’s Creek Campground along the northern shore of a considerably dryer Blue Mesa Reservoir than I ever remember seeing. Campsite is surrounded by what appear to be 750’ high grass covered mesas.
Set up camp: unfolded chair, pitched small tent, blew-up mattress and pillow. Tried to take a nap. Hot. 95°. Drenched in sweat within minutes. Moved my chair to the shaded overhang of a nearby vault toilet. Breezy thankfully to keep its odor at bay.
Took a few minutes to ponder this passage from the book I brought along—Got2Go, the story of German female rider, Lea Rieck’s, solo motorcycle trip around the world:
I think about how traveling solo gives each of us the chance to be whoever we want to be. We can’t change our appearance, but we can leave our histories behind us, along with the roles we have played in our lives until now. The people we meet at each new place don’t know whether life has been good or bad to us, whether we are trusting or suspicious, whether we believe in a religion or only in ourselves. There are no expectations.
Sleepy... will try again to nap, hopefully cooler now that the intense, masochistic radiation ball is no longer directly over head. Nope. Still way too hot. I am weary. Just discovered that a chipmunk chewed a hole in my brand new tent...!
A couple of handfuls of trail mix and water for dinner. Too exhausted to cook and short on water. Early to bed. Hips sore. Cold—50° temperature drop.
Supposed to be a great night to photograph the Milky Way. May try a photo... with iPhone. Not sure why a photographer didn’t bring a real camera along!?!
061421
Gunnison > Telluride > Ouray
Woke at 7:00, good sleep in cool 40° mountain air. Camping rough often yields surprises. A good one this morning—super clean vault toilet.
Packed up camping gear and headed out about 8:00. Followed Hwy 50 west for 12 miles over two bridges spanning the reservoir—forgot how large it is. Extensive road work has 50 closed after 8:30 am each day. I arrived at the construction area at 8:37. Hence was detoured onto twisty Hwy 92. So glad; amazing scenery climbing and following the top of the mesa for over an hour with stunning views down into the Black Canyon of the Gunnison (River) far below. At times had an eagle eye view of magnificent snow covered mountains on the horizon, with fabulous huge meadows of varying shades of green in the middle distance, and the dark canyon far below the road. Passed gorgeous growths of bluebells and yellow wild flowers.
Encountered a cattle drive at one point—only in Colorado (well maybe Wyoming, Montana, Texas). Very unusual to be sitting atop a motorcycle as a herd of cattle saunters by.
A 2-hour unexpected wonderful detour.
I couldn’t help but think what a privilege it is to travel around this state witnessing such incredible beauty. But I don’t like doing so on my own. Really wish I was sharing this experience with someone.
Arrived in Montrose for a large breakfast before heading over the Dallas Divide to Telluride. Beautiful scenery but packed with tourists. A short rest and on to Ouray at the northern terminus of the Million Dollar Highway upon which I’ll ride tomorrow to Durango—probably my favorite ride anywhere.
Great variance of temperatures today: 40° sleeping, 55° riding out of campground, 96° in Montrose, 93° in Ouray, about 55° at the campground as I write this. Riding in 90°+ heat with heavy motorcycle clothes is part of my weight loss program...
Thankfully, I was able to pitch my tent in a shaded area and take a nap before meeting long-time friends, Bill and Sharon Evans, for dinner. Great to catch up.
Amazing how much water is running off the mountains from snowmelt.
Couldn’t pass up the opportunity to once again relax in the hot springs nearby. A great way to relieve my sore muscles. Actually, riding this new motorcycle has been great. It is the first time I have ever ridden a motorcycle and not experienced cramps in my shoulders. My hips have been a little bit sore but I think they would be sore on any motorcycle. At any rate, the Hot Springs really helped and were delightful.
061521
Ouray > Durango > Pogosa Springs > Del Norte
[PHOTOS TO FOLLOW—cell service too weak in campground]
Up and on the bike by 7:30. Breaking camp becoming routine. Headed south out of Ouray on Hwy 550 known as the Million Dollar Highway. Climbed to the summit of Red Mountain Pass. 39°. Ahh summertime. Ahh heated grips on this motorcycle! Climbed over Red Mountain, named after the abundance of iron ore it contains. Words fail to describe the beauty of this area. Magical.
Stopped an hour later for breakfast at the Lone Spur Cafe in Silverton. Me, an elderly couple, 8 other motorcyclists—Harley Riders (gave me the BNW stink-eye), and the purported ghosts inhabiting this building. Meanwhile, Silverton is a sleepy, little, one-street, seen better mining days town, but it’s proud of its Harley Davidson dealership.
A lot of history here. The saloon was added to the Grand Imperial Hotel in 1902, just in time to serve Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, Bat Masterson, Billy the Kid... and now... me.
Full. I’ve been forgoing my usual yogurt and granola for heartier breakfasts: ketchup accompanied by scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, toast, OJ.
Plenty of energy to ride on to Durango, another incredibly scenic stretch of Hwy 550.
Really enjoying the BMW R1200GS. Now feel very comfortable cornering aggressively on the twisty mountain roads. Even scraped the toe of my boot around one corner! Was just reaching over my shoulder to pat myself on my almost 70-year old back when two young guys flew past me on BMW S1000RR superbikes, demonstrating how to drag an elbow and knee through a corner. Show offs!!! Punks!!! REALLY
Rode up and over 11,000’ Molas Pass, then another pass, before descending down past Purgatory Ski Resort and into Durango, a cool town. Continued on to Pagosa Springs through a drier landscape. A quick lunch, then another climb over Wolf Creek Pass (and it’s ski resort known for extraordinary levels of annual snowfall). Amazing views of valleys below. Sad to see, however, the extent of beetle kill. At least half of the hundreds of thousands of pines stand starkly naked in death—just awaiting cremation during some upcoming fire season.
On another 50 miles to Beaver Creek Campground in the Rio Grande National Forest, located a few miles west of Del Norte. I’m camped on a pine covered ledge 50’ above the roaring creek. Took a nap outside in the breeze and then a freezing cold bath in the creek—big contrast to last night’s dip in the hot springs!
I’ve decided to stay here an extra night since my lodging arrangements later in the week fell through because I have not been vaccinated. Looking forward to a very private, very quiet, very restful, very peaceful no riding day here tomorrow.
Applied Eagle Scout skills to “cook” instant oatmeal for a late dinner by the campfire. Off to bed to be lulled to sleep in my cozy sleeping bag on my comfy red air mattress by the stream below. No rush to get up tomorrow—IF I could only convince the 4:00-am-alarm-clock-birds to take a morning off.
061621
Beaver Creek Campground
Pleasant night listening to stream below tent, but tossed and turned. Received an email about 9:00 pm informing me that the buyer of my house in Mexico is suddenly trying to back out of the sale. It’s complicated... glad I’ll be here in the camp today so I can deal with it.
Cleared my head with an ice cold bath by the stream and washed some clothes. Quiet, peaceful, a bit lonely here by myself. Have never liked eating alone. Mother Nature took care of that problem in the form of a cute, but very bothersome, goal-oriented chipmunk. Did his best to share my oatmeal breakfast with me.
Had planned to stay off the bike today, but needed to charge phone (bike charger not working). Rode 10 miles to small coffee shop to charge devices. Hoy chocolate and a nice fried apricot pie... energy for the brief ride back to camp.
Spent afternoon preparing legal claim against buyer backing out of house, not exactly how I planned to spend “rest” day.
Rained a little in the late afternoon. “Cooked” cheese lasagna for dinner. Left the bag of dehydrated food alone for 3 minutes as I walked a 100’ away for water. Found my dinner guest’s teeth marks in the pouch when I returned.
Early to bed to read a bit before phone dies again. Long ride tomorrow.
061721
Del Norte > Buena Vista > Aspen > Glenwood Springs > Meeker
Up at dawn for long ride. Took Hwy 285 north through pretty ranch lands flanked by hills and later mountains in Chafee County. Passed through Salida on the way to Buena Vista. Stopped to photograph the chalk cliffs at the base of nearby Mt. Princeton.
Turned northwest onto Hwy 82 to cross 12,000’ Independence Pass. Stopped to take in the magnificent scenery at Twin Lakes’ with its reflection of the Snowmass peaks.
Riding ever higher I was surprised to see evidence—thousands of flattened trees—of numerous avalanches. The road became steeper, with many switchbacks and nary a guardrail in sight. I was reminded of the truism often applied to motorcycle riding: you will go wherever you look. Keeping looking at a rock in the road before you and you will hit it. Focus your eyes on the white line of a curve and the bike will magically follow. Look over the side of the road without guardrails to the beautiful valley far below and...
Up over the pass and wound down to Aspen. Hard for me to put into words how much I dislike (always have) this town. Snooty and snotty and ridiculously expensive: enjoyed a tasty $17 bowl of yogurt for a late breakfast while receiving several not so friendly stares at what I consider to be my very posh motorcycle wardrobe. One resident was even so kind as to tell me where I should move my motorcycle.
As I ate my $2/spoonful meal I pondered this passage from Got2Go: To invest your hope in a future when everything’s just black and gray, how does that work? It’s said that hope can drive and strengthen you – but isn’t it always also accompanied by the fear that what you’re hoping for will never actually come to be? What if everything doesn’t get better tomorrow? What if the dark tunnel doesn’t end?
Mounted up and rode the final 2 hours to Meeker. 102° heat through Glenwood Springs and Rifle along the way—once again part of my weight reduction plan. Let’s see: helmet over sweaty hair, heavy non-breathable jacket over sweaty torso, heavy non-breathable pants over sweaty legs, heavy absolutely non-breathable boots over very sweaty feet, leather gloves over sweaty hands. Weight Reduction.
Arrived at friend Roger’s house in Meeker about 2:30.
Fishing in Roger’s backyard(!) after dinner.
061821
Resting today at Roger’s lovely house in such a pastoral setting with rolling hills framing a lush valley bisected by a s-shaped rushing stream.
A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Grocery Store
Being short can make it difficult to ride a motorcycle, particularly when coming to a stop. I am never comfortable unless both of my feet come to rest flat on the pavement. This particular motorcycle, even though it has been “factory lowered” and the seat is in the lowest position, still prohibits me from firmly planting my feet at a stop. Because of this I fear dropping this beautiful machine. It is equipped with engine crash bars to protect it, and it’s designed for serious off-road use (where riders expect to fall, repeatedly fall, repeatedly fall). I have been very careful, and so far I have not fallen or dropped the bike... I will sooner or later.
When arriving in Meeker, I parked the motorcycle in a gravel drive not far behind the rear of a pick-up truck. After a quick shower we jumped in the truck to go get groceries. You guessed it... backed into and knocked over the motorcycle. Just a couple of very minor scrapes.
File this under the advice of an employer many years ago who told me, “When you buy a new truck take a sledge hammer and put a dent in it, then quit worrying about it cosmetically.”
When camping at Beaver Creek a couple of days ago, another camper commented that I must be very organized to carry all I need on a motorcycle. Well maybe. Here’s a list of what I consider essential.
HIDDEN IN PANT-LEG ARMOR
$$
Spare Keys
UNDER SEAT
Registration
Title (copy)
Bill of Sale (copy)
Insurance Card
Owners Manual
BMW Service Manager Business Card
TANK BAG
Paper Maps
Emergency Medical ID
iPhone, Cable, AC Charger, Earphones
Portable Battery Charger
Sheath Knife
Bear Spray
Glasses
Sunglasses
Snacks
Tire Pressure Gauge
Multi-Tool
Flashlight
Ear Plugs
Advil, Tylenol
Anti-Bacterial Wipes
Kleenex
PANNIER - L
Ground Cloth
Sleeping Bag
Inflatable Mattress
Inflatable Pillow
Pack Towel
Portable Chair
50’ Paracord
Extra Stuff Sack
Cook Kit, Stove, Propane
Biodegradable Soap
Trowel
Large Knife
Long Underwear
Down Jacket
Knit Cap
4 Water Bottles
PANNIER - R
Tent
Tool Kit
Oil Bottle
WD40
Air Compressor, Tire Kit
Toiletry Kit
Medicines, Lidocaine Patches
Packing Cube—Riding Clothes
Cargo Pants (zip-off legs)
3 Nylon Underpants
3 Nylon T-Shirts
3 Tall Merino Wool Socks
2 Handkerchiefs
Bathing Suit
Packing Cube—Casual Clothes
T-Shirt
Polo Shirt
Flannel Shirt
Jeans
Belt
Extra Shoes, Bag
Bear Food Bag
2 Dehydrated Meals
Oatmeal, Tang
Trail Mix, Energy Bars
TOP CASE
Cargo Net
Survival Blanket
First Aid Supplies
Rain Gear
Neck Gaiter
Winter Gloves
Extra Gloves
Polar Tech 100 Pullover
1/2 Motorcycle Cover
061921
Meeker > Craig > Kremmling > Winter Park > Idaho Springs > Lyons
Left Meeker at 6:45, expecting a long ride to visit friend, Brent, in Lyons. Decided to take a longer route on 2-lane twisty roads. Took County Road 27 over Gore Pass, avoiding Steamboat Springs. My lack of ability as a writer prohibits me from describing that ride. Just amazing scenery different than I have seen elsewhere in Colorado. Didn’t stop for photos—no shoulders or pull-overs. Lots of stick thin groves of Aspens.
[Pat, do not read the next paragraph]
Later passed through Byers Canyon carved out by the Colorado River. Wanted a photo so pulled over on loose gravel and 5” rocks scattered about. Just as I came to a stop the motorcycle’s back tire hit a large rock and then slipped into the hole it had occupied. Motorcycle and me then occupied the nearby area occupied by the large rock’s smaller friends. The sledgehammer was out: small dents and scuffs on one pannier case. The bike is now officially an “adventure” bike. Thankfully there were a few people around to help pick the bike up.
A while later I stopped for a break at a really cool coffee shop/bookstore in Granby.
Off on more twisties along Hwy 40 through a number of towns, including Winter Park, to I-70 for a few miles to Idaho Springs. Even more twisties curving along different rivers as the enormous Rockies came into view. By this time I was actually becoming tired of curves, wishing I’d soon come upon a nice long straightaway. It was a long day day of marvelous motorcycle twisties. I estimated that I leaned through about 2,500 curves today.
Arrived at Brent’s and Donna’s log cabin outside Lyons mid-afternoon. They live in a stunning area of lush green meadows and hills full of rock outcroppings. Very unique. Very, very beautiful setting. Should I ever move back to CO I’d seriously consider living here.
Nice Dinner at a Mexican restaurant followed by an outdoor concert at a neighbor’s house with an incredible backdrop.
061921
Lyons > Poudre Canyon
Said goodbye to Brent and Donna and rode the dirt road back to Hwy 7 and into Lyons. I had planned to ride today to nearby Estes Park and up and over the 12,000’ divide atop Rocky Mtn. National Park to Grand Lake. Well, since I was last there 3 years ago a limited occupancy permit system now controls Park usage. So no go.
Bob and I picked a few songs (he had his guitar with him, too). We then drove a mile down the canyon and set up camp in Aspen Glen, a small Roosevelt National Forest campground situated at 8,700’ along the roaring Poudre River, under a deep blue sky and puffy white clouds. Woke up from a nap an hour later to find a low thick layer of darkening, thundering clouds—maybe my first rain in a very long time. Only sprinkles.
Claudia’s pizza for dinner. Read more of Got2Go: For all of us, freedom is linked to our motorcycles, just in different ways. It’s a passion that we can pursue alone, that gives us joy and for which we need no-one else; that’s only for us.
Another passage, with which I happily relate: For someone like me, the American diner is the first stage of paradise – a place where breakfast is available around the clock. By now I even have a morning routine almost like I do back home, but instead of jogging (uh, no) or going to the gym (uh, no), I now ride my motorcycle for two hours to earn my breakfast, and instead of porridge (yogurt)with chia seeds (granola), it now consists of two fried (scrambled) eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, and English muffins.
To bed early, tired. Birds chirping. Breeze blowing. River singing its ever moving lullaby. No cell service. Colder tonight; long underwear, wool cap (s u m m e r t i m e). No idea what tomorrow holds; plans disrupted. Yikes!
062021
Poudre Canyon > Kremmling > Silverthorne > Blue River
Slow morning. Cold. Broke camp. Heated up some oatmeal. Picked a few songs with Bob before we all headed north on Hwy 14 to Walden for lunch at the Antlers Inn—decor definitely lived up to the restaurant’s name. Continued west on 14, then south on Hwy 40 to Kremmling.
Quick grocery shopping then onto Hwy 9 south through beautiful country leading up to the Rocky Mountains, through busy Silverthorne, past what I consider one of the most spectacular views in all of CO—Lake Dillon with its pine tree covered islands framed by majestic, snow covered mountains. A few miles further to confront polar opposite tourist jam packed touristy Breckenridge.
Rode a few miles south to the Blue Lakes dispersed camping area in the White River National Forest. Camped in a heavily forested, uneven rocky area only yards from a willow bog. Wouldn’t be surprised to be visited by a moose or bear tonight. Maybe they’d like to prop me up, keep me from rolling out of the tent.
Pretty hazy air with heavier smoke to the east. Apparently a small forest fire nearby along with smoke from larger fires in Arizona.
Got2Go passage about one of my tendencies: Anyone who takes the narrower road with the greater challenge will also fall more often – but they learn and experience more and ultimately end up the better rider. We determine most of our challenges ourselves.
062221
Blue River > Alma > FairPlay > Lake George > Divide > Woodland Park > Manitou Springs > Colorado Springs
Up for a delicious breakfast fixed by Claudia. Bob and I played for quite awhile, with an audience of two nearby young campers. These young campers scaled the mountain shown below yesterday. Meanwhile, I’m having problems breathing here at 9,000’.
Took a short walk up to Blue Lake. Very pretty, even snow still on the ground.
Said goodbye to Bob and Claudia. Will see again in a week or so.
The last ride of this trip, winding up and over familiar passes and towns. When we lived in Colorado Springs, Nancy and I often made this gorgeous drive, particularly in the winter to ski at Keystone. Good memories. Left Bob and Claudia to explore Gunnison, Ouray, Durango areas. I’m ready to head for the Springs and regroup, sleep in a bed, take a hot shower...
Throughout this journey I’ve tried unsuccessfully to answer a question posed by a friend shortly before leaving:
What do you want to do? 1,500 miles later I still don’t know. I’m blessed beyond measure to have had such wonderful partners, such a great family. I’ve done so many things, seen so much, been so many places. Yet, I have no idea what my future holds. I feel like I’m wandering aimlessly, squandering what little quality time I may have left to live. And, doing so alone, leaving me to feel that my life has no purpose.
I rode home (my temporary home in the Springs—THANK YOU Marty and Diane!) today. I’ll likely wake up tomorrow. I’ll continue looking for answers, seeking a relationship, finding purpose, looking far out upon the prairie of what is to come in my life.
