Colorado Cool-Down
Day 1
For my second sojourn into Colorado this year I unlocked the door of the storage unit and headed north to check out Rocky Mountain National Park on my way to Paonia. It's a funny thing about BMW riders - we can't seem to get from here to there in a straight line - it's as if we have directional dyslexia. CO24 or Platte Rd passes the storage facility and goes into Colorado Springs, where it disappears into a maze of urban one-way streets and dead ends before joining I-25North. Next trip I'll take 83 and bypass it all northbound.
Heading to Denver is the same old same old interstate ride we all love and avoid whenever possible, so at Castle Rock I detoured onto 85 and 470 to circumvent downtown Denver. Then I shot out 70W for a bit to 72N and some 'real' riding. The map shows lots of squiggles on 72, and it's on the eastern slope of the front range, so even though I don't recall any particularly stunning bits, it's a sure bet it beats anything I could ride in Texas! It passes through Nederland, where I stopped for lunch at the First Street Cafe and Bar. I was hoping for a little more conversation than the solo waitress/barmaid was able to indulge, and not being a local was basically isolated by the rest of the clientele. At least the burger and brew were good, for 16$. 72 hits 7 which took me into Estes Park where the REAL fun began when I paid my 10$ (per rider for motorcycle) and got on 34 into the RMNP. up, Up, UP I went and round and round. The air got cooler and cleaner with each passing moment and the views - well, spectacular! Traffic was light but coupled with the narrow-ish road enough to keep my speed down, so I enjoyed sightseeing. It was late-afternoon and the critters were starting to come out and reclaim their land. I saw marmonts and chipmunks and deer aplenty, and when I reached the Alpine Visitor Center at the top (elevation 11,786) a herd of Elk had decided that enough was enough and had brought traffic to a standstill as they crossed the roadway. Remember people: Calm does not equal Tame! Putting a child in close proximity of a 500lb+ wild animal for a photograph is not a good idea! Coming down the backside (western) of the park I crossed the Continental Divide and took the obligatory photo before terminating my days travel at Timber Creek Campsite.
The Campsite was supposed to be full - some rally or another, but I took a chance and rode through anyway. 1) there's usually a solo who'll share tent-site and the 20$ fee or 2) there's an overlooked opening you can snag. I found the latter and paid the 20$ to set up next to Larry, from Golden, riding an R1150GS (already sharing a site). Across the way was a couple from New Zealand on a 6 month holiday in a Subaru with 2 mountain bikes and a cargo box on top. They had been out long enough to have the routine down pat but not so long that they couldn't stand to be around one another. Nice balance. I told them I'd give them the roomy tent, the dual burner stove with steaks and the bottle of wine, but any form of PDA (Public Display of Affection) would not be tolerated. Campsite operators were, frighteningly enough, a retired couple from Burleson TX. Full time RV'ers they took the summer 'job' and love it. Come winter they'll head back to lower and more southerly lands chasing the perfect temperature.
Day 2
I followed Larry's suggestion the next morning and finished 34 out by Granby, then went west on 40 to 134 and south on 131 to Wolcott near 70. It was the gold in the ground that drew people out to Colorado, and there's still a lot of money in the mountains - now in real estate. Wolcott's little gas pump/diner was a haute couture affair with 15$ breakfasts and 3.50$ espressos and a fellow who proceeded to tell me that airline pilots didn't deserve the money they made and the whole airline mess was their fault and the fault of the unions. He'd earned his money the hard way in the auto business in Houston, sold it all for the real estate value, and now was a developer in CO. Just about put me off my huevos. I declined his suggestion to tour his million dollar sites, and took CO 6 (which parallels 70) through Eagle to Gypsum and then went dirt southwest to join 82 at Cattle Creek. It was neat for me to ride my bike past Eagle Airport, where, as an overpaid airline pilot, I have landed a 757 with 188 trusting passengers in swirling crosswinds and threatening stormclouds streaming between 14,000 peaks on a runway that was still 10 times longer than the aircraft carrier I flew off while deployed in the Indian Ocean. But I digress. My map was somewhat vague about the dirt road I took out of Gypsum, but by following the tire tracks and favoring the heavily trafficked forks I managed to become totally lost, hitting pavement again with about 30 miles left before reserve and a deep regret over not filling the extra fuel bottle at the last gas station. Money in the Mountains? I passed one place big enough to be a Scientology Lodge but which was actually a private residence doing a little add-on - complete with a helo-port and Jet Ranger in back. 82 hooks up with 133 at Carbondale, and there I began seeing a more steady stream of riders heading for Paonia, some 60 miles south. 133 is a memorably beautiful road, with twisties aplenty and tremendous scenery. There's one little town that always stirs my emotions, though - Somerset. You know you're there when you see the coal chutes and elevators. Posted in town are signs which state: UMW-Here to stay, and UMW - United for you! The houses are of the post WWII cookiecutter style and perched right onto the roadway. It is, perhaps, the sole location on my trip that didn't say to me "I could live here". Just the opposite. Each time I pass through it I am gripped by gratitude for living somewhere, anywhere, else. Even Texas.
Pulling into Paonia is like turning into your driveway at home - just that kind of welcome back feeling. The BMW Club of Colorado has been coming here for over 20 years and sharing an appreciable portion of the gate with the local organizations - not to mention the boost to the merchants in town. Town Park is ours and rapidly becomes tent city, with the nerve center being the Teen Center where registration, bathroom, shower, diner, wi-fi port, and Cafe all come together under one roof. Next in line would be the Beer Station/Dance Hall, manned by the good men of the American Legion. Buck a Beer. God Bless 'Em. And the music goes on 'till you quit dancing. The trick, I've found, is to scout a tent site equidistant from the porta-potties and the beer (but definitely NOT on the direct line) and as far away from the band and the streetlights as possible. Arriving on the first day (Thursday) of a four day rally is perfect!
Day 3
In round one several years ago, I fought to a draw with the Alpine Loop out of Lake City, just south of Paonia, ham-strung by my fully loaded R65 with street tires. Now, astride a real paved road/dirt road machine with my bags back at the park I was counting on a rematch, and headed down 92 towards Blue Mesa Reservoir. Along the way I stopped for a hour's hike out Crystal River Overlook to enjoy the clear day and tremendous vistas. Barely on the other side of the reservoir was a dirt cut off - Lake City Cut-off, in fact. The geography of Colorado is such that major roads, with few exceptions, parallel the crests and valleys, meeting only when allowed by terrain - which can make getting from here to there a long proposition. Human nature is to take short cuts, so these dirt roads are the answer. This one was very well graded, no loose bits, and provided solitude and wide open spaces (to quote the Dixie Chicks) before it met up with 149 heading into Lake City. This section is ABSOLUTELY spectacular, following a stream as it bounces and pools and flings itself down the valley. Any number of technical curves, and an infinite number of mental photographs to file in my mental screen savers for later.
The ends of the Alpine Loop meet in Lake City, and I took the first one I came upon. It starts out like the other dirt roads, well graded and firm, as it winds up into the mountains following a small stream. This stream provided power for a mine some 10 miles up road - a great photo shoot and place to take a break to look around. That 10 miles and the next 6 or so remain well ride-able by any bike, but at 16 miles the warnings start about 4 wheel drive road not maintained own risk, etc. And the road begins it's climb up to Engineer Peak and snow. 15' of snow bank along the road at the pass! 4-wheelers blast back and forth, throwing up a dust storm, like Pig Pen when he runs, that has turned the white snow a beige, but just scrape or grab a handfull and it is indeed the cold white stuff.
It seems every time I feel the big dog, the universe reaches over and kicks the legs out from under me. Think a '72 /5 is old? here's a '53 R27. Riding sidecar? oh, here's a guy with a hovercraft. Puffed up about riding over a 12,000' pass on your 800cc 20 year old motorcycle? How about meeting a guy on a 30 year old Honda 500CT. With his wife. And his dog. And he's come around the OTHER pass.
Instead of continuing around the loop back to Alpine, the lack of oxygen and threat of rain in that direction made me track straight across (short cuts, remember?) towards 550 the million dollar highway just south of Ouray. This was definitely the toughest part of the trip and the toughest riding I've ever done. Flanked by a drop off on one side and rock face wall on the other, you have to navigate over loose rocks, large and small, thrown over solid rock base resembling irregular stairs. At the very end (beginning?) where it meets the road, the final 100 meters is loose rock scree I suppose is designed to stop foolish first time dirt riders from even taking their bikes off the trailer. It would have worked for me - had I done the trip in the other direction I doubt I'd have made it up to the first turn.
550 needs no introduction or description. It's too famous for the former and defies the latter. I dogged up through Ridgeway to Delta, turned right on 92 toward Hopkins, Paonia, and a shower and beer.
It was a very good day.
For my second sojourn into Colorado this year I unlocked the door of the storage unit and headed north to check out Rocky Mountain National Park on my way to Paonia. It's a funny thing about BMW riders - we can't seem to get from here to there in a straight line - it's as if we have directional dyslexia. CO24 or Platte Rd passes the storage facility and goes into Colorado Springs, where it disappears into a maze of urban one-way streets and dead ends before joining I-25North. Next trip I'll take 83 and bypass it all northbound.
Heading to Denver is the same old same old interstate ride we all love and avoid whenever possible, so at Castle Rock I detoured onto 85 and 470 to circumvent downtown Denver. Then I shot out 70W for a bit to 72N and some 'real' riding. The map shows lots of squiggles on 72, and it's on the eastern slope of the front range, so even though I don't recall any particularly stunning bits, it's a sure bet it beats anything I could ride in Texas! It passes through Nederland, where I stopped for lunch at the First Street Cafe and Bar. I was hoping for a little more conversation than the solo waitress/barmaid was able to indulge, and not being a local was basically isolated by the rest of the clientele. At least the burger and brew were good, for 16$. 72 hits 7 which took me into Estes Park where the REAL fun began when I paid my 10$ (per rider for motorcycle) and got on 34 into the RMNP. up, Up, UP I went and round and round. The air got cooler and cleaner with each passing moment and the views - well, spectacular! Traffic was light but coupled with the narrow-ish road enough to keep my speed down, so I enjoyed sightseeing. It was late-afternoon and the critters were starting to come out and reclaim their land. I saw marmonts and chipmunks and deer aplenty, and when I reached the Alpine Visitor Center at the top (elevation 11,786) a herd of Elk had decided that enough was enough and had brought traffic to a standstill as they crossed the roadway. Remember people: Calm does not equal Tame! Putting a child in close proximity of a 500lb+ wild animal for a photograph is not a good idea! Coming down the backside (western) of the park I crossed the Continental Divide and took the obligatory photo before terminating my days travel at Timber Creek Campsite.
The Campsite was supposed to be full - some rally or another, but I took a chance and rode through anyway. 1) there's usually a solo who'll share tent-site and the 20$ fee or 2) there's an overlooked opening you can snag. I found the latter and paid the 20$ to set up next to Larry, from Golden, riding an R1150GS (already sharing a site). Across the way was a couple from New Zealand on a 6 month holiday in a Subaru with 2 mountain bikes and a cargo box on top. They had been out long enough to have the routine down pat but not so long that they couldn't stand to be around one another. Nice balance. I told them I'd give them the roomy tent, the dual burner stove with steaks and the bottle of wine, but any form of PDA (Public Display of Affection) would not be tolerated. Campsite operators were, frighteningly enough, a retired couple from Burleson TX. Full time RV'ers they took the summer 'job' and love it. Come winter they'll head back to lower and more southerly lands chasing the perfect temperature.
Day 2
I followed Larry's suggestion the next morning and finished 34 out by Granby, then went west on 40 to 134 and south on 131 to Wolcott near 70. It was the gold in the ground that drew people out to Colorado, and there's still a lot of money in the mountains - now in real estate. Wolcott's little gas pump/diner was a haute couture affair with 15$ breakfasts and 3.50$ espressos and a fellow who proceeded to tell me that airline pilots didn't deserve the money they made and the whole airline mess was their fault and the fault of the unions. He'd earned his money the hard way in the auto business in Houston, sold it all for the real estate value, and now was a developer in CO. Just about put me off my huevos. I declined his suggestion to tour his million dollar sites, and took CO 6 (which parallels 70) through Eagle to Gypsum and then went dirt southwest to join 82 at Cattle Creek. It was neat for me to ride my bike past Eagle Airport, where, as an overpaid airline pilot, I have landed a 757 with 188 trusting passengers in swirling crosswinds and threatening stormclouds streaming between 14,000 peaks on a runway that was still 10 times longer than the aircraft carrier I flew off while deployed in the Indian Ocean. But I digress. My map was somewhat vague about the dirt road I took out of Gypsum, but by following the tire tracks and favoring the heavily trafficked forks I managed to become totally lost, hitting pavement again with about 30 miles left before reserve and a deep regret over not filling the extra fuel bottle at the last gas station. Money in the Mountains? I passed one place big enough to be a Scientology Lodge but which was actually a private residence doing a little add-on - complete with a helo-port and Jet Ranger in back. 82 hooks up with 133 at Carbondale, and there I began seeing a more steady stream of riders heading for Paonia, some 60 miles south. 133 is a memorably beautiful road, with twisties aplenty and tremendous scenery. There's one little town that always stirs my emotions, though - Somerset. You know you're there when you see the coal chutes and elevators. Posted in town are signs which state: UMW-Here to stay, and UMW - United for you! The houses are of the post WWII cookiecutter style and perched right onto the roadway. It is, perhaps, the sole location on my trip that didn't say to me "I could live here". Just the opposite. Each time I pass through it I am gripped by gratitude for living somewhere, anywhere, else. Even Texas.
Pulling into Paonia is like turning into your driveway at home - just that kind of welcome back feeling. The BMW Club of Colorado has been coming here for over 20 years and sharing an appreciable portion of the gate with the local organizations - not to mention the boost to the merchants in town. Town Park is ours and rapidly becomes tent city, with the nerve center being the Teen Center where registration, bathroom, shower, diner, wi-fi port, and Cafe all come together under one roof. Next in line would be the Beer Station/Dance Hall, manned by the good men of the American Legion. Buck a Beer. God Bless 'Em. And the music goes on 'till you quit dancing. The trick, I've found, is to scout a tent site equidistant from the porta-potties and the beer (but definitely NOT on the direct line) and as far away from the band and the streetlights as possible. Arriving on the first day (Thursday) of a four day rally is perfect!
Day 3
In round one several years ago, I fought to a draw with the Alpine Loop out of Lake City, just south of Paonia, ham-strung by my fully loaded R65 with street tires. Now, astride a real paved road/dirt road machine with my bags back at the park I was counting on a rematch, and headed down 92 towards Blue Mesa Reservoir. Along the way I stopped for a hour's hike out Crystal River Overlook to enjoy the clear day and tremendous vistas. Barely on the other side of the reservoir was a dirt cut off - Lake City Cut-off, in fact. The geography of Colorado is such that major roads, with few exceptions, parallel the crests and valleys, meeting only when allowed by terrain - which can make getting from here to there a long proposition. Human nature is to take short cuts, so these dirt roads are the answer. This one was very well graded, no loose bits, and provided solitude and wide open spaces (to quote the Dixie Chicks) before it met up with 149 heading into Lake City. This section is ABSOLUTELY spectacular, following a stream as it bounces and pools and flings itself down the valley. Any number of technical curves, and an infinite number of mental photographs to file in my mental screen savers for later.
The ends of the Alpine Loop meet in Lake City, and I took the first one I came upon. It starts out like the other dirt roads, well graded and firm, as it winds up into the mountains following a small stream. This stream provided power for a mine some 10 miles up road - a great photo shoot and place to take a break to look around. That 10 miles and the next 6 or so remain well ride-able by any bike, but at 16 miles the warnings start about 4 wheel drive road not maintained own risk, etc. And the road begins it's climb up to Engineer Peak and snow. 15' of snow bank along the road at the pass! 4-wheelers blast back and forth, throwing up a dust storm, like Pig Pen when he runs, that has turned the white snow a beige, but just scrape or grab a handfull and it is indeed the cold white stuff.
It seems every time I feel the big dog, the universe reaches over and kicks the legs out from under me. Think a '72 /5 is old? here's a '53 R27. Riding sidecar? oh, here's a guy with a hovercraft. Puffed up about riding over a 12,000' pass on your 800cc 20 year old motorcycle? How about meeting a guy on a 30 year old Honda 500CT. With his wife. And his dog. And he's come around the OTHER pass.
Instead of continuing around the loop back to Alpine, the lack of oxygen and threat of rain in that direction made me track straight across (short cuts, remember?) towards 550 the million dollar highway just south of Ouray. This was definitely the toughest part of the trip and the toughest riding I've ever done. Flanked by a drop off on one side and rock face wall on the other, you have to navigate over loose rocks, large and small, thrown over solid rock base resembling irregular stairs. At the very end (beginning?) where it meets the road, the final 100 meters is loose rock scree I suppose is designed to stop foolish first time dirt riders from even taking their bikes off the trailer. It would have worked for me - had I done the trip in the other direction I doubt I'd have made it up to the first turn.
550 needs no introduction or description. It's too famous for the former and defies the latter. I dogged up through Ridgeway to Delta, turned right on 92 toward Hopkins, Paonia, and a shower and beer.
It was a very good day.
posted by Randy Masters at 7:22 AM
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