Round 3, Day 1, 11Jul06

Once again it's time to head out to Colorado Springs for a motorcycling adventure: excuse - Colorado Beemers Paonia Rally. This time I'm bringing my 14 year old daughter, Emily, along. It's her first rally, but not her first time in Colorado (see last year's post).

Breaking the suction of the muck of the MetroMess went surprisingly well - we got on the first flight for which we listed, both in first class, no muss, no fuss. Arriving in COS, however, we noted some heavy storm clouds rising over the front range while we cabbed to the storage unit. The driver was a rider as well, and, as I've mentioned, very impressed with the logistics of what we were about to do. He needed to tell his tale, so we wound up missing a 20 minute window of opportunity for a dry departure from the storage unit. 'S alright - one of the facets of this sport are the people you meet and the stories they have to tell.

We moved the bike out of the box, changed from air-travel clothes to m/c gear (how many teen-aged girls can say they've stripped in a storage unit? Wait, I think I don't want to know), but before we could load up the skies opened up on us. Solution? Shut the door, finish packing and exercise a little, what's that word? Patience. Again, a rare trait for anyone these days, much less a teenaged girl.

As the pattering of rain on metal roof lessened, we donned rain gear (geez, Dad, these are STUPID looking pants!), loaded up and pressed on. I knew I would be conscious of her being back there, and that it would affect my riding style and some choices/decsions, but I had no idea of how overwhelming it would be. Every fork in the road (literally and figuratively) had me weighing its advantages and disadvantages for her sake. Traveling up Rt 24 out of the Springs towards Woodland Park we watched the sky go black with thunderstorms and could see and hear the lightning and thunder on Pikes Peak. Good old GPS route map showed we wouldn't cut through the worst, so we pressed on - no comments, no complaints and no whinning from the backseat. We later heard that snow, sleet, and gusts of over 40mph were hammering those on the peak.

In WP, however, we could see that we were going to get caught and headed up to a good friend's home to shelter under his porch, at least. Fortunately they were home and let us in for an hour or so while the worst past, and then we took off again.

Clear of the Front Range we had pretty smooth riding to the town of Buena Vista (alternately pronounced Be-oo-na Vista, Boo-ae-na Vista, or Bone-a Vista) where we ate lunch at Daisey's Hamburger stand - a landmark for over 30 years. Here your order is called not by number or your name, but by an assigned name - Mario Andretti (for us), or Lucy Arnez, or Bob Hope (who?). After burgers, fries and sodas we checked the sky for guidance and decided better to call it a day than get caught at 12,000 in a storm.

We checked into the Sumac Lodge (for 62$) and got a bed, a tv, a shower, and some tepid heat. It was, however, right next door to a liquor store, a supermarket and an auto parts store, so all was well.

Emily did outstanding to get up, get out, get on the plane, change in a public place, and then ride 3 hours in/out of rain. Her positive attitude makes me look forward to the rest of the trip!