lytehouse
Moderator
I'm happy to hear that despite our terrible weather, it hasn't soured you to make a return visit. I hope that when you do, we'll be able to meet somewhere.
Unfortunately,because my dog got sick, everything had to be put on hold.
Colorado 2014
- Thread starter Oldschool
- Start date
I'm happy to hear that despite our terrible weather, it hasn't soured you to make a return visit. I hope that when you do, we'll be able to meet somewhere.
Unfortunately,because my dog got sick, everything had to be put on hold.
Dustin
Moderator
Thanks for all these great photos and for sharing this trip
soccerguy83
Well-Known Member
I'm looking forward to the remainder of the trip updates!
Oldschool
Moderator
I'm home safe and sound. The trip report will continue ASAP.
lytehouse
Moderator
Great news....on both accounts! 
FZ1riderNY
Moderator
Good to hear Lee! I hope it was an enjoyable one for ya!
Oldschool
Moderator
"Sound" might be overstated
I will go for X-rays as soon as I can get in to see the doctor, as there is something moving around on the end of my hip bone and causing sharp stabbing pains. Bone bit, I suspect, but it didn't slow me down.
The bike has a few new scars as well, but this to will pass!
I will go for X-rays as soon as I can get in to see the doctor, as there is something moving around on the end of my hip bone and causing sharp stabbing pains. Bone bit, I suspect, but it didn't slow me down.
The bike has a few new scars as well, but this to will pass!
Dustin
Moderator
Very happy to hear you're back safe and mostly sound. Let us know how you're doing soon
Oldschool
Moderator
Day Four “A Song Of Wyoming for Me”
“I'm weary and tired I've done my day's ridin'”
We broke camp at Half-moon Lake under threatening skies with just a few drops of rain spattering the tents while we packed them. More rain peppered us along the road back to Pinedale, still slightly dark and very overcast as we headed fpr town to fuel and find a breakfast joint. I learned long ago that you need only look for the largest cluster of local vehicles in front of a early morning cafe to find the most acceptable food in town. In a town the size of Pinedale this isn't saying much, but at least you know that you will most likely survive the experience with intestines intact. Like so many small towns, all the locals turned and looked at us as we entered, and of course all geared up we looked as alien as "Time Rider" would have to the locals in the movie. The waitress sat us off in the back room to spare her regulars the trauma of our visages. After the hot and greasy breakfast slid down we went to find Ian a hardware store, so that he could purchase the one tool that he had forgotten to pack, or perhaps had escaped from his tool pouch somewhere on-route. Then after gassing up we rolled south under dark, gloomy skies, somewhat apprehensive about the trail today. I had been warned not to do the Continental trail south of Pinedale if it was wet as the soil turned to gumbo when it was wet.
The rain only came in short sporadic bursts so we soldiered on and found the great wide open stretches of Wyoming fast and vast and entertaining! There was a section, as the rain did become more steady, that would have been beautiful on a sunny day with the layers of color and "hoodoo-like" formations, straight out of a western. It was slick and sticky, but we carefully made our way through, without drama.
It dried up again and our speeds ramped up, sometimes flying across huge sections of sandy, sage brush covered wilderness. I was on point and enjoying a high speed blast when out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. A huge elk, one of the largest I had seen was on an intercept course, approaching from my left at a 45 degree angle. I was hard on the brakes, the bike shimmying side to side in the sandy soil, dropping several gears as I slowed and it was enough to prevent a collision. The Huge Elk ran across a couple of meters ahead of me and I resumed my reckless dash across the desolation, my heart rate a bit higher from the burst of adrenalin, my senses on high alert now. I did not expect to see, of all things, an Elk out there, but now I was watching for any movement.
We stopped at Wamsutter after a mercifully short (for Ian) run east on the interstate to get fuel before heading south toward the Colorado state line. My right fuel cap lock had jammed and I was hoping to find some graphite to fix the issue at the gas station, but could only find anti-seize. It didn't work and despite trying my other key nothing would budge the lock and I was a bit pissed off by the problem. The guys asked a repair truck that showed up if they had something that might work and they provided a can of penetrating spray, but that too was of little use. I resorted to filling my left tank and my Jerry-can (Kolpin) and transferring after the tanks equalized. This would continue for the rest of the trip and I eventually got used to it, never having a range-issue.
The road south of Wamsutter was hard and rocky and a busy Oil-field road with a fair bit of traffic initially. We eventually met pavement that would take us south to Wyoming highway 70 and across to Slater and County road 129 to cross into Colorado. As I turned onto CR-129 the sign said "road closed 3, 1/2 miles ahead" $#@*! but I rolled on anyway to see if we could get by. The road petered out into disused looking (never a good sign) two track only to end at a "missing bridge" I stopped for a symbolic urination onto the dirt berm that blocked the drop into the river (too deep to cross) before returning to the highway to plot "Plan-B". Further east along the road was Snake Spur road, but again the sign said "Road closed 17 miles ahead" ARRRGGHH!! Screw it, we went anyway, hoping for something less impassable than a missing bridge, the alternative would be a HUGE detour on pavement, late into the day and I was no longer in a state of mind for such maneuvers. I stopped at a ranch house along the road, maybe 10 miles in to ask a gas delivery driver (after the home owners didn't answer my knock at the door), and he was, of-course not from the area, so had no idea if the road was open further along. So on we went and as the miles ticked by the rain started, and still no closed sign. Finally I saw the "road damage ahead" sign. Time for the other shoe to drop. The rain had started in earnest now and was running in rivers along and across the gravel road. Thankfully the traction was good and there was still no issue preventing forward (and southward) progress. As the rain bucked down we crossed into Colorado and continued past a huge ranch, that we later learned was owned by a US Football team owner. We had now long past the mileage that told us of the road being closed, and despite the dark skies and intense rain, I began to relax. Eventually the rain let up and we stopped to wring out our gloves and take a break. The road (CO-129) was a narrow, twisty ribbon of varied color gravel that twisted its way south until turning into pavement not long before Steamboat Lake and our camp spot at Hahn's Peak. We would not see this namesake as the skies would not clear that night, and in fact would continue to dump down on us unrelentingly through the night, stopping just long enough to allow us to set up camp and start to dry our gear. This would prove to be a pointless exercise as the rain came down even harder the next morning as we would go south to Steamboat Springs.
After set up and as the rain started again, a young boy from a neighboring site asked Ian if he would like some fresh BBQed Fish, since his dad had extra. Ian told the child that he would, and the boy promised to return with the fish. He came be periodically to give us updates on the cooking time, and sure enough he and his dad came by as we huddled under the huge pines for shelter, with a trio of tin-foil packages and paper plates. They had caught far more than they could eat and had cooked up two rainbow trout each for the three wet travelers. We thanked the two of them heartily and then sat under the tree, eating the tasty treat savage-style, not wanting to dig through our gear for cutlery in the rain. After washing up, the sky providing lots of water we eventually gave up on sitting around in the cold and damp, and retired to our respective tents for a chilly night.
“I'm weary and tired I've done my day's ridin'”
We broke camp at Half-moon Lake under threatening skies with just a few drops of rain spattering the tents while we packed them. More rain peppered us along the road back to Pinedale, still slightly dark and very overcast as we headed fpr town to fuel and find a breakfast joint. I learned long ago that you need only look for the largest cluster of local vehicles in front of a early morning cafe to find the most acceptable food in town. In a town the size of Pinedale this isn't saying much, but at least you know that you will most likely survive the experience with intestines intact. Like so many small towns, all the locals turned and looked at us as we entered, and of course all geared up we looked as alien as "Time Rider" would have to the locals in the movie. The waitress sat us off in the back room to spare her regulars the trauma of our visages. After the hot and greasy breakfast slid down we went to find Ian a hardware store, so that he could purchase the one tool that he had forgotten to pack, or perhaps had escaped from his tool pouch somewhere on-route. Then after gassing up we rolled south under dark, gloomy skies, somewhat apprehensive about the trail today. I had been warned not to do the Continental trail south of Pinedale if it was wet as the soil turned to gumbo when it was wet.
The rain only came in short sporadic bursts so we soldiered on and found the great wide open stretches of Wyoming fast and vast and entertaining! There was a section, as the rain did become more steady, that would have been beautiful on a sunny day with the layers of color and "hoodoo-like" formations, straight out of a western. It was slick and sticky, but we carefully made our way through, without drama.
It dried up again and our speeds ramped up, sometimes flying across huge sections of sandy, sage brush covered wilderness. I was on point and enjoying a high speed blast when out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. A huge elk, one of the largest I had seen was on an intercept course, approaching from my left at a 45 degree angle. I was hard on the brakes, the bike shimmying side to side in the sandy soil, dropping several gears as I slowed and it was enough to prevent a collision. The Huge Elk ran across a couple of meters ahead of me and I resumed my reckless dash across the desolation, my heart rate a bit higher from the burst of adrenalin, my senses on high alert now. I did not expect to see, of all things, an Elk out there, but now I was watching for any movement.
We stopped at Wamsutter after a mercifully short (for Ian) run east on the interstate to get fuel before heading south toward the Colorado state line. My right fuel cap lock had jammed and I was hoping to find some graphite to fix the issue at the gas station, but could only find anti-seize. It didn't work and despite trying my other key nothing would budge the lock and I was a bit pissed off by the problem. The guys asked a repair truck that showed up if they had something that might work and they provided a can of penetrating spray, but that too was of little use. I resorted to filling my left tank and my Jerry-can (Kolpin) and transferring after the tanks equalized. This would continue for the rest of the trip and I eventually got used to it, never having a range-issue.
The road south of Wamsutter was hard and rocky and a busy Oil-field road with a fair bit of traffic initially. We eventually met pavement that would take us south to Wyoming highway 70 and across to Slater and County road 129 to cross into Colorado. As I turned onto CR-129 the sign said "road closed 3, 1/2 miles ahead" $#@*! but I rolled on anyway to see if we could get by. The road petered out into disused looking (never a good sign) two track only to end at a "missing bridge" I stopped for a symbolic urination onto the dirt berm that blocked the drop into the river (too deep to cross) before returning to the highway to plot "Plan-B". Further east along the road was Snake Spur road, but again the sign said "Road closed 17 miles ahead" ARRRGGHH!! Screw it, we went anyway, hoping for something less impassable than a missing bridge, the alternative would be a HUGE detour on pavement, late into the day and I was no longer in a state of mind for such maneuvers. I stopped at a ranch house along the road, maybe 10 miles in to ask a gas delivery driver (after the home owners didn't answer my knock at the door), and he was, of-course not from the area, so had no idea if the road was open further along. So on we went and as the miles ticked by the rain started, and still no closed sign. Finally I saw the "road damage ahead" sign. Time for the other shoe to drop. The rain had started in earnest now and was running in rivers along and across the gravel road. Thankfully the traction was good and there was still no issue preventing forward (and southward) progress. As the rain bucked down we crossed into Colorado and continued past a huge ranch, that we later learned was owned by a US Football team owner. We had now long past the mileage that told us of the road being closed, and despite the dark skies and intense rain, I began to relax. Eventually the rain let up and we stopped to wring out our gloves and take a break. The road (CO-129) was a narrow, twisty ribbon of varied color gravel that twisted its way south until turning into pavement not long before Steamboat Lake and our camp spot at Hahn's Peak. We would not see this namesake as the skies would not clear that night, and in fact would continue to dump down on us unrelentingly through the night, stopping just long enough to allow us to set up camp and start to dry our gear. This would prove to be a pointless exercise as the rain came down even harder the next morning as we would go south to Steamboat Springs.
After set up and as the rain started again, a young boy from a neighboring site asked Ian if he would like some fresh BBQed Fish, since his dad had extra. Ian told the child that he would, and the boy promised to return with the fish. He came be periodically to give us updates on the cooking time, and sure enough he and his dad came by as we huddled under the huge pines for shelter, with a trio of tin-foil packages and paper plates. They had caught far more than they could eat and had cooked up two rainbow trout each for the three wet travelers. We thanked the two of them heartily and then sat under the tree, eating the tasty treat savage-style, not wanting to dig through our gear for cutlery in the rain. After washing up, the sky providing lots of water we eventually gave up on sitting around in the cold and damp, and retired to our respective tents for a chilly night.
Oldschool
Moderator
Day Five, "The Colorado Trail"
Colorado had been, weather-wise most inhospitable so far but we had been on the receiving end of incredible kindness from one of its families as well. I am usually very up-beat, especially when I’m on a bike trip, but this morning would prove to be the exception. I woke to the sound of steady rain on the tent, not a sound that I am fond of and it had rained all through the night. There were puddles under my tent, and the ground was muddy throughout the campsite as we packed out wet gear onto wet bikes. All our efforts the night before, drying boots, helmets and gloves were in vain. My helmet and glasses would fog up because of the dampness of the inside of the helmet and I had to ride with the pounding, biting, cold rain in my face just so I could (sort of) see where I was going as we headed for town to find coffee and food.
I was in no mood by the time we made Steamboat Springs to socialize but Paul talked to a local as we fueled under the shelter of the fuel island. A good local breakfast place was right across the street, but I had no intention of walking into a place with water pouring off of my wet gear, ruining the furniture and flooring and I told the guys that. We all settled for a bit of crap from the convenience store before rolling south in search of better weather. The COBDR section between Steamboat Springs and Gypsum was marked “impassable in wet weather” so the day was starting badly, with me plotting a quick pavement alternative to Leadville. We had been told by a friendly and talkative Jeep guy, under the shelter of the fuel-island that this storm was in it for a 3 day bout. We all decided to skip ahead to Buena Vista on pavement and go from there. I was half blind riding with my visor up and the needle-like stinging of rain ripping at my face, angry now as I rode, doggedly determined to do the remaining sections of the Colorado Back Country Discovery Route (COBDR), even if it killed me! I had come all this way and BY GOD, I was going to do it. Thankfully the best parts were in the middle and should be rocky enough terrain to be done in the “Monsoon Season”.
It was maybe 45 minutes south of town that the rains began to lesson and eventually stop all together. By the time we hit “State Bridge” it was sunny out and my state of mind brightening along with the weather. The pavement had been great along highway 131 to Wolcott where we jumped onto Highway 24 instead of I-70 to make our way through Vale and south through Red Cliff to Leadville.
We stopped to lunch in Leadville at a busy place called "The Golden Burro" on the main drag. Lunch was good but nothing special and I’m not sure why the place was so busy. The weather had improved to the point that I suggested that we re-join the COBDR route from Leadville to Buena Vista even though it tripled the distance to get there.
The track started easy with sandy gravel over Weston Pass, but soon turned off onto far more challenging quad tracks that were rutted, muddy and narrow. We did a few water crossings along the way that provided entertainment and kept our already wet feet that way for the remainder of the day. It was muddy, slippery and tiring and narrow enough that I sometimes wondered if my luggage would clear some of the trees while negotiating the steep climbs and slippery ruts. If you are a novice rider I would stay clear of that section of the COBDR. Ironically, we had done the toughest parts of the trail and were climbing a greasy, but wide part of the trail when I decided to stray from the road and get up into the sage brush to miss a bad looking section. I wasn’t going fast which is a good thing, when my front wheel hit a line of sharp rocks hidden in the clumps of sage. It deflected the wheel violently and threw me to the right, back down onto the road below where I landed on a large, sharp rock. The bike was almost upside down beside me and I had a sharp pain in my hip from the impact with the large rock. I lay on my back on the road for a moment to allow the pain to subside and to asses how the rest of my body felt. The armor that looked rather “storm trooper-ish” had done its job and other than the under protected hips (I must figure out a way to protect that area) I was fine. The guys rushed to my rescue, Paul not wanting me to move, which I did right away, removing my helmet so that I could see without steamed-up glasses. Then we all twisted the bike around so that it could be righted without any more fuel loss. After a breather and my assurance to the guys that I was fine (mostly) I rode back down the slope to turn around and get a run back up the muddy trail.
There were a few more challenging bits before we hit highway 285 near Campgrounds of the Rockies and headed west to the KOA at Buena Vista’s south end. We opted for a “Kabin” (KOA likes their “Ks”) so that we could dry our tents and other gear in the dry and windy air of the Valley. It remained overcast but without anything more than a spit of moisture. We had entertainment with a raft of Hummingbirds buzzing around the many feeders at the site. It was nice to have a hot shower after a day spent wet from rain and water crossings.
[video=youtube;Zb7DrEffzdo]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zb7DrEffzdo&feature=youtu.be[/video]
Colorado had been, weather-wise most inhospitable so far but we had been on the receiving end of incredible kindness from one of its families as well. I am usually very up-beat, especially when I’m on a bike trip, but this morning would prove to be the exception. I woke to the sound of steady rain on the tent, not a sound that I am fond of and it had rained all through the night. There were puddles under my tent, and the ground was muddy throughout the campsite as we packed out wet gear onto wet bikes. All our efforts the night before, drying boots, helmets and gloves were in vain. My helmet and glasses would fog up because of the dampness of the inside of the helmet and I had to ride with the pounding, biting, cold rain in my face just so I could (sort of) see where I was going as we headed for town to find coffee and food.
I was in no mood by the time we made Steamboat Springs to socialize but Paul talked to a local as we fueled under the shelter of the fuel island. A good local breakfast place was right across the street, but I had no intention of walking into a place with water pouring off of my wet gear, ruining the furniture and flooring and I told the guys that. We all settled for a bit of crap from the convenience store before rolling south in search of better weather. The COBDR section between Steamboat Springs and Gypsum was marked “impassable in wet weather” so the day was starting badly, with me plotting a quick pavement alternative to Leadville. We had been told by a friendly and talkative Jeep guy, under the shelter of the fuel-island that this storm was in it for a 3 day bout. We all decided to skip ahead to Buena Vista on pavement and go from there. I was half blind riding with my visor up and the needle-like stinging of rain ripping at my face, angry now as I rode, doggedly determined to do the remaining sections of the Colorado Back Country Discovery Route (COBDR), even if it killed me! I had come all this way and BY GOD, I was going to do it. Thankfully the best parts were in the middle and should be rocky enough terrain to be done in the “Monsoon Season”.
It was maybe 45 minutes south of town that the rains began to lesson and eventually stop all together. By the time we hit “State Bridge” it was sunny out and my state of mind brightening along with the weather. The pavement had been great along highway 131 to Wolcott where we jumped onto Highway 24 instead of I-70 to make our way through Vale and south through Red Cliff to Leadville.
We stopped to lunch in Leadville at a busy place called "The Golden Burro" on the main drag. Lunch was good but nothing special and I’m not sure why the place was so busy. The weather had improved to the point that I suggested that we re-join the COBDR route from Leadville to Buena Vista even though it tripled the distance to get there.
The track started easy with sandy gravel over Weston Pass, but soon turned off onto far more challenging quad tracks that were rutted, muddy and narrow. We did a few water crossings along the way that provided entertainment and kept our already wet feet that way for the remainder of the day. It was muddy, slippery and tiring and narrow enough that I sometimes wondered if my luggage would clear some of the trees while negotiating the steep climbs and slippery ruts. If you are a novice rider I would stay clear of that section of the COBDR. Ironically, we had done the toughest parts of the trail and were climbing a greasy, but wide part of the trail when I decided to stray from the road and get up into the sage brush to miss a bad looking section. I wasn’t going fast which is a good thing, when my front wheel hit a line of sharp rocks hidden in the clumps of sage. It deflected the wheel violently and threw me to the right, back down onto the road below where I landed on a large, sharp rock. The bike was almost upside down beside me and I had a sharp pain in my hip from the impact with the large rock. I lay on my back on the road for a moment to allow the pain to subside and to asses how the rest of my body felt. The armor that looked rather “storm trooper-ish” had done its job and other than the under protected hips (I must figure out a way to protect that area) I was fine. The guys rushed to my rescue, Paul not wanting me to move, which I did right away, removing my helmet so that I could see without steamed-up glasses. Then we all twisted the bike around so that it could be righted without any more fuel loss. After a breather and my assurance to the guys that I was fine (mostly) I rode back down the slope to turn around and get a run back up the muddy trail.
There were a few more challenging bits before we hit highway 285 near Campgrounds of the Rockies and headed west to the KOA at Buena Vista’s south end. We opted for a “Kabin” (KOA likes their “Ks”) so that we could dry our tents and other gear in the dry and windy air of the Valley. It remained overcast but without anything more than a spit of moisture. We had entertainment with a raft of Hummingbirds buzzing around the many feeders at the site. It was nice to have a hot shower after a day spent wet from rain and water crossings.
[video=youtube;Zb7DrEffzdo]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zb7DrEffzdo&feature=youtu.be[/video]
Last edited:
Oldschool
Moderator
Day Six "COBDR, Section Three for Me"
"It's a hard road, you're gonna' have to follow"
Say what you will about KOAs but I appreciated this one for certain. Simple (perhaps a bit hokey) cabin, that was dry and clean and allowed us to finally get dried out, and had power to charge my gadgets and Wi-Fi so that I could keep in touch with the world (you lot). It had hot showers, laundry and food. Breakfast was supplied by a quaint, western-style shack that opened almost as early as my eyes always did. As we ordered, we were asked for a name to be called once the orders were ready and the guys had fun with it, Ian telling the server/cook he was “Duke” and Paul; going by “Jed” and so our movie aliases were born. I later decided that I would go by “McQuaid after a Chuck Norris character.
Once fueled we started west on a nice pavement road up to Cottonwood Pass (306) that wound its way along the river and through the mist, past cabins at the lower end of it. It remained pavement right up to the pass and was very twisty up near the summit.
This would start another trend for pictures, MY BAD!
As it descended over the west side it turned to gravel with tight switchbacks and an amazing view of a sunny valley below. We continued south on Cumberland Pass road toward Pitkin, an quaint little town in the middle of nowhere. After Pitkin we went up and over Waunita pass and crossed Highway 50 and up and over Las Pinos Pass to Lake City. The route was rocky and had steep climbs with one short section of mud and a couple of water crossings just before Pitkin.
Poker Alice, great food in Lake City!
The campground above Lake City at Slumgullion Pass was closed so we ran the amazing ribbon of twisting pavement (Highway 149) in the rain down into Lake City to exercise another “Plan B”. This time it consisted of a motel, “The Silver Spur” in Lake City, a clean but real throw back to maybe the 70’s in the old-school establishment. It was another refuge from the rain and welcome for that. It was while unpacking outside that we met a fellow adventurer Brendan, riding a mostly stock Suzuki DR 650 across the country from Tennessee to California on the TCAT (Trans Continental American Trail). We took him out to dinner at the “Southern Vittles” restaurant in Lake city just west of the main drag. We entertaining, another couple on the patio, who informed us we had “the best stories” about bears and crashes and misadventures. Brendan had a date to keep in Moab the coming Saturday but decided to join us as far as Ophir Pass the following day.
"It's a hard road, you're gonna' have to follow"
Say what you will about KOAs but I appreciated this one for certain. Simple (perhaps a bit hokey) cabin, that was dry and clean and allowed us to finally get dried out, and had power to charge my gadgets and Wi-Fi so that I could keep in touch with the world (you lot). It had hot showers, laundry and food. Breakfast was supplied by a quaint, western-style shack that opened almost as early as my eyes always did. As we ordered, we were asked for a name to be called once the orders were ready and the guys had fun with it, Ian telling the server/cook he was “Duke” and Paul; going by “Jed” and so our movie aliases were born. I later decided that I would go by “McQuaid after a Chuck Norris character.
Once fueled we started west on a nice pavement road up to Cottonwood Pass (306) that wound its way along the river and through the mist, past cabins at the lower end of it. It remained pavement right up to the pass and was very twisty up near the summit.
This would start another trend for pictures, MY BAD!
As it descended over the west side it turned to gravel with tight switchbacks and an amazing view of a sunny valley below. We continued south on Cumberland Pass road toward Pitkin, an quaint little town in the middle of nowhere. After Pitkin we went up and over Waunita pass and crossed Highway 50 and up and over Las Pinos Pass to Lake City. The route was rocky and had steep climbs with one short section of mud and a couple of water crossings just before Pitkin.
Poker Alice, great food in Lake City!
The campground above Lake City at Slumgullion Pass was closed so we ran the amazing ribbon of twisting pavement (Highway 149) in the rain down into Lake City to exercise another “Plan B”. This time it consisted of a motel, “The Silver Spur” in Lake City, a clean but real throw back to maybe the 70’s in the old-school establishment. It was another refuge from the rain and welcome for that. It was while unpacking outside that we met a fellow adventurer Brendan, riding a mostly stock Suzuki DR 650 across the country from Tennessee to California on the TCAT (Trans Continental American Trail). We took him out to dinner at the “Southern Vittles” restaurant in Lake city just west of the main drag. We entertaining, another couple on the patio, who informed us we had “the best stories” about bears and crashes and misadventures. Brendan had a date to keep in Moab the coming Saturday but decided to join us as far as Ophir Pass the following day.
Last edited:
Oldschool
Moderator
Day Seven, “And for a Time there were Four”
"We picked Up a Boy just south of Mobile"
We started the day very early and had to wait outside the Garage Café for the owner / Cook to make coffee and open up early for us. He was a nice friendly guy that was full of useful local “Intel”. He was getting the cooking started before we arrived and the wonderful smells emanating from the screen door off the kitchen had our stomachs working, waiting for breakfast. When the coffee was ready, he open up for us so we could sit inside and wait for his waitress to come in. We talked to Brendan about his trip and he showed us pictures on his I-phone of his trip thus far. Once again after a hearty breakfast we saddled up and headed west on section 2 of the COBDR with another adventurer in tow. This section was the toughest by far and after the pavement ended, while barely moving I slipped on a muddy section and fell over. It took all of us to right the bike as the tires just slid in the greasy slime. Right after that the trail became rocky and climbed in an increasingly tight series of switchbacks, with rock steps and chunky loose rocks all over the trail. The trail was just wide enough for a jeep and to pass it had to be at the hairpin switchbacks or at the summit. Cinnamon Pass and California pass and Hurricane Pass (in the rain) were amazing, with a stop at Animas Forks along the route. We ran a great section of Highway 5590 south before parting company with Brendan at the exit to Black Bear Pass, while he continued on to Ophir Pass and the Utah Border that night.
Oops, MY BAD again, tee Hee.
[video=youtube;FIXuhaW9FU4]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FIXuhaW9FU4&list=UURQ_SJd_yIHl-omeno392ew[/video]
We had expended a lot of energy on the rough rock sections over the last few passes and the eastern end of Black Bear had been extremely narrow if not overly challenging. We were all fairly tired by then and after a brief discussion decided that the reward was not worth the risk, considering we could not turn around on the one-way pass beyond this point if “the steps” turned out to be too intimidating. “Discretion being the better part of valour” as the saying goes, we turned back and continued south on highway 550 to Ophir Pass and around to our camp site south of Telluride.
[video=youtube;4F0xDOAOy2c]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4F0xDOAOy2c&list=UURQ_SJd_yIHl-omeno392ew[/video]
[video=youtube;SZ9mjGBvuH0]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZ9mjGBvuH0&feature=youtu.be[/video]
[video=youtube;iF0NuRMoo70]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iF0NuRMoo70&list=UURQ_SJd_yIHl-omeno392ew[/video]
Ophir pass was easy on the east side of the summit where we stopped to talked to a couple of guys on DRZ 400’s Other than extra fuel in “Rotopax” they were stock, and the younger guy who was extremely tall made them look like toys beside our heavily laden beasts.
The west side of Ophir Pass, where all the pictures get taken was stunning. It was also much steeper and VERY rocky heading down. It was a challenge to make one particular switchback after getting tossed around on the large square-edged rocks leading up to it. We couldn’t come to a definitive answer on which direction would be tougher to do this pass in, but neither is a good idea for a less-than-confident rider. Big machines like BMW GSs would need a skilled operator to do it without drama or damage. We managed without either, although once across the big scree-field on the way down to the town of Ophir it was nice to relax.
Once we reached highway 145 it was a short, but fast run up to Sunshine campground for a three night base-camp, one extra night due to the jump-ahead due to bad weather two days earlier. The camp was very nice and was only missing showers (not the kind from Mother Nature) to make it complete. The ice cold water from the taps outside each of the washroom shacks would act as such during our stay.
"We picked Up a Boy just south of Mobile"
We started the day very early and had to wait outside the Garage Café for the owner / Cook to make coffee and open up early for us. He was a nice friendly guy that was full of useful local “Intel”. He was getting the cooking started before we arrived and the wonderful smells emanating from the screen door off the kitchen had our stomachs working, waiting for breakfast. When the coffee was ready, he open up for us so we could sit inside and wait for his waitress to come in. We talked to Brendan about his trip and he showed us pictures on his I-phone of his trip thus far. Once again after a hearty breakfast we saddled up and headed west on section 2 of the COBDR with another adventurer in tow. This section was the toughest by far and after the pavement ended, while barely moving I slipped on a muddy section and fell over. It took all of us to right the bike as the tires just slid in the greasy slime. Right after that the trail became rocky and climbed in an increasingly tight series of switchbacks, with rock steps and chunky loose rocks all over the trail. The trail was just wide enough for a jeep and to pass it had to be at the hairpin switchbacks or at the summit. Cinnamon Pass and California pass and Hurricane Pass (in the rain) were amazing, with a stop at Animas Forks along the route. We ran a great section of Highway 5590 south before parting company with Brendan at the exit to Black Bear Pass, while he continued on to Ophir Pass and the Utah Border that night.
Oops, MY BAD again, tee Hee.
[video=youtube;FIXuhaW9FU4]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FIXuhaW9FU4&list=UURQ_SJd_yIHl-omeno392ew[/video]
We had expended a lot of energy on the rough rock sections over the last few passes and the eastern end of Black Bear had been extremely narrow if not overly challenging. We were all fairly tired by then and after a brief discussion decided that the reward was not worth the risk, considering we could not turn around on the one-way pass beyond this point if “the steps” turned out to be too intimidating. “Discretion being the better part of valour” as the saying goes, we turned back and continued south on highway 550 to Ophir Pass and around to our camp site south of Telluride.
[video=youtube;4F0xDOAOy2c]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4F0xDOAOy2c&list=UURQ_SJd_yIHl-omeno392ew[/video]
[video=youtube;SZ9mjGBvuH0]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZ9mjGBvuH0&feature=youtu.be[/video]
[video=youtube;iF0NuRMoo70]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iF0NuRMoo70&list=UURQ_SJd_yIHl-omeno392ew[/video]
Ophir pass was easy on the east side of the summit where we stopped to talked to a couple of guys on DRZ 400’s Other than extra fuel in “Rotopax” they were stock, and the younger guy who was extremely tall made them look like toys beside our heavily laden beasts.
The west side of Ophir Pass, where all the pictures get taken was stunning. It was also much steeper and VERY rocky heading down. It was a challenge to make one particular switchback after getting tossed around on the large square-edged rocks leading up to it. We couldn’t come to a definitive answer on which direction would be tougher to do this pass in, but neither is a good idea for a less-than-confident rider. Big machines like BMW GSs would need a skilled operator to do it without drama or damage. We managed without either, although once across the big scree-field on the way down to the town of Ophir it was nice to relax.
Once we reached highway 145 it was a short, but fast run up to Sunshine campground for a three night base-camp, one extra night due to the jump-ahead due to bad weather two days earlier. The camp was very nice and was only missing showers (not the kind from Mother Nature) to make it complete. The ice cold water from the taps outside each of the washroom shacks would act as such during our stay.
Last edited:
Oldschool
Moderator
Ophir Pass Pictures
"And I'm climbing the Stairway to Heaven"
The East side.
The Summit
Talking to the DRZ 400 riders.
The famous Scree-Field ahead and below.
"And I'm climbing the Stairway to Heaven"
The East side.
The Summit
Talking to the DRZ 400 riders.
The famous Scree-Field ahead and below.
Last edited:
Oldschool
Moderator
Day Eight “Bears and Bridal Veils”
“To The Heights! To the Heights”
Note the sign above and behind the bike....
We had already gotten fairly high in Colorado and would again today. No, not that silly, just elevation-wise, but I did stop at the “Medical Bud Company” but just for a picture outside. I found it interesting that it was right across the street from the Marshall’s office, hmm. We ended up at “Baked in Telluride” do you notice a theme here? In reality it is the only place to get breakfast earlier than 08:00 in town. Bring a big wallet; wow do they know how to soak tourists! The food is good though and the baking an easy “weigh” to get fat.
Morning at “Sunshine camp” wasn’t and we started with a wet run into town, this was getting old, but what were we to do? Roll with it baby, and like the sign in the Garage Café said; there will be a $5.00 charge for whining. This too would become a bit of an ongoing joke the rest of the trip, with the quip “$5 bucks” when one of us, including me would complain about something.
We had discussed the last evening that we could use an easy day since we were ahead of schedule now, and maybe just a short day trip would be in order. Why not run up Black Bear Pass and see the famous old power station and Bridal Veil Falls with a quick run across the small section of the COBDR west of Telluride to finish up. After lightening our wallets at “Baked” we did the seemingly endless supply of switchbacks up Black Bear Pass’s west end, all the way up to where the sign said; “One way traffic beyond this point, DO NOT ENTER”. Well that was that then, pictures on the way down then. Ian had a nice conversation with a group of hikers before we descended, about the etiquette of “standing around in the middle of a road when traffic approaches”. Apparently they were under the misconception that it was a large sidewalk just-for-them and I felt it best to hold my tongue, lest I become nasty and ruin the stereotype of “polite Canadians”. They wandered off to smoke more weed and hug a tree or two as we went on politely down the “hiker’s sidewalk” back to town.
After a nice coffee at :The Coffee Cowboy and Paul’s unsuccessful search for Pie, an obsession that would find him declaring Colorado a “Pie Free Zone” we continued west on highway 145 to Vance Junction to turn south onto a short easy section of day 1 of the COBDR, and the only part of that section we would do on this trip. We returned to camp via the same highway that brought us from Ophir to the camp the day before. It was time for the relaxation part of the vacation program, or at least as much as I ever do, just ask Paul.
“To The Heights! To the Heights”
Note the sign above and behind the bike....
We had already gotten fairly high in Colorado and would again today. No, not that silly, just elevation-wise, but I did stop at the “Medical Bud Company” but just for a picture outside. I found it interesting that it was right across the street from the Marshall’s office, hmm. We ended up at “Baked in Telluride” do you notice a theme here? In reality it is the only place to get breakfast earlier than 08:00 in town. Bring a big wallet; wow do they know how to soak tourists! The food is good though and the baking an easy “weigh” to get fat.
Morning at “Sunshine camp” wasn’t and we started with a wet run into town, this was getting old, but what were we to do? Roll with it baby, and like the sign in the Garage Café said; there will be a $5.00 charge for whining. This too would become a bit of an ongoing joke the rest of the trip, with the quip “$5 bucks” when one of us, including me would complain about something.
We had discussed the last evening that we could use an easy day since we were ahead of schedule now, and maybe just a short day trip would be in order. Why not run up Black Bear Pass and see the famous old power station and Bridal Veil Falls with a quick run across the small section of the COBDR west of Telluride to finish up. After lightening our wallets at “Baked” we did the seemingly endless supply of switchbacks up Black Bear Pass’s west end, all the way up to where the sign said; “One way traffic beyond this point, DO NOT ENTER”. Well that was that then, pictures on the way down then. Ian had a nice conversation with a group of hikers before we descended, about the etiquette of “standing around in the middle of a road when traffic approaches”. Apparently they were under the misconception that it was a large sidewalk just-for-them and I felt it best to hold my tongue, lest I become nasty and ruin the stereotype of “polite Canadians”. They wandered off to smoke more weed and hug a tree or two as we went on politely down the “hiker’s sidewalk” back to town.
After a nice coffee at :The Coffee Cowboy and Paul’s unsuccessful search for Pie, an obsession that would find him declaring Colorado a “Pie Free Zone” we continued west on highway 145 to Vance Junction to turn south onto a short easy section of day 1 of the COBDR, and the only part of that section we would do on this trip. We returned to camp via the same highway that brought us from Ophir to the camp the day before. It was time for the relaxation part of the vacation program, or at least as much as I ever do, just ask Paul.
Oldschool
Moderator
Day Nine, "12 and a half miles of HOLY CRAP"
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger,Stand a little taller"
Another morning and this time clear weather to start the day, what a change! Today we had planned to do a loop from Telluride to Ouray then over Engineer Pass and through Silverton back over Ophir Pass to camp. Having Done Ophir on the way in we decided to do a pavement loop through Ridgeway and highway 62 to the West back around on Hwy 145 after Engineer Pass. This would prove to be a bit ambitious considering the toughness of the terrain. We really had no Idea what we were getting ourselves into despite my extensive research prior to the trip. Maps and Ride reports and Google Earth only tell a part of the picture after pavement comes to an end.
We sat on the patio at Baked in Telluride and watched the local stoners wander about and cluster to decide on how to save the world from the evils of modern life. We to where on the fringes of civilized life, at least for the moment. Our mission today was to explore and conquer Imogene Pass across to Ouray. It starts a few blocks north of the Main street in Telluride, just off Oak Street and looks to all the world like a back-alley as it starts up out of town. It is a reddish rock that is badly rutted and strewn with baseball and larger rocks with drop-offs that (even just out of town) will require a hospital trip if you are lucky. As it climbs ever steeper and higher towards the remnants of the Tomboy mine it gets downright dangerous and real care is required to avoid a visit to a different kind of doctor with lousy stitching skills.
There is one distiquishing feature as you climb this pass and that is a stone tunnel after which the trail steepens and hugs a rock face up to the lower part of the mine ruins where the Tomboy mine tunnel entrance is. From there until the last steep switchback before the summit, it twists and turns up some of the biggest rock "steps" that I have ever ridden. The rest of the trails are covered in huge chunky rocks that can throw you onto the ground in a heartbeat. This fact combined with the elevation made for a real riding challenge with serious consequences for any errors. At one point I stopped in the rock-step-garden (as I call it) wanting to make sure that my crew had made it safely through as well. Paul had gotten off-track, an easy thing to do with the maze of alternate trails in the waist high brush growing on that level of the pass. I heard him first, then saw him making his way back to where I was standing on a car sized boulder. Ian was not to be seen, nor heard and I was worried that he had crashed and was having trouble lifting his bike in the thin air. Paul and I started hiking back down, with my GPS in hand to stay on the correct path. Paul though he could hear Ian's bike but I was sure he was imagining it. Finnally I spotted Ian climbing the rough trail toward us and as he passed, too steep for him to stop by us, I noticed his tool pouch bouncing more than usual. It had come open and I spotted on of his tools lying on the trail at my feet amongst the rocks. I watched for more as I laboured to climb back up to the bikes. Both Paul and I needed a breather when we reached the spot where we had parked the bikes. Ian had only lost two tools, one of which I had found coming back up.
[video=youtube;FIK8Fa14JMM]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FIK8Fa14JMM[/video]
We decided to take the remaining climb one section (switch-back) at a time so as not to kill ourselves with the effort. I managed to take one corner a bit too slow and spun out in the loose rock trying to avoid a huge rock. As I was getting myself going, Paul came around the corner, saw me and picked a bad line causing a minor slow speed crash to his left. Once Ian and I had parked on the next flat spot we went back down to help pick up Paul's bike and get him launched up that section. Another break and another section found us within a half mile of the summit with a steep but easy-looking trail remaining. We relaxed on a huge snow bank that felt good through out riding suits as we reclined on the cold surface.
The last push to the top was very steep but all the bikes climbed it with ease, the last switchback being a bit muddy fron snow melt.
The summit was beautiful (a word wholly inadequate for its description) and we had an amazing vantage point on the valley and mountain ranges that were now all below us The Elevation was well over 13,000 feet and was by far the highest we had attained in Colorado! We marveled in it, the views, the achievement. It made the work and risk getting there worth it. This is what the whole trip came down to, this moment, this view, WOW!
Like the saying goes; "What goes up, must come down" and so we did. The downward leg was easy at first other than a few good sized steps (sheer drops off rock of about a foot) into chunky rock that would smash man and machine without discrimination. The trail was easy to follow on the GPS when you had a second to look at it, but was a tiring workout for the whole body. We had met only one truck just as we left Telluride on the way up, but on the descent met Jeeps, Quads, side-by-sides and a couple of 4X4 tour trucks with doe-eyed tourists stuffed in the seats like sheep. You could only squeeze by if you picked the spot carefully as the drops were career ending. Eventually, we made it to the "easier" section after a couple of fun stream crossings, all of our techniques getting good by now for that manuever. Somehow Paul had a tip over, but only Ian saw this and only his pride might have taken a knock. Even once we got onto the wide gravel into Ouray we had to be careful, as the drops into the river gorge were sheer and significant and without a guard rail to be seen.
[video=youtube;_sT1mV2cNYE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_sT1mV2cNYE&feature=youtu.be[/video]
We stopped in Ouray (pronounced OU-Rye I think) to take some pictures, then went on the hunt for Pie again. I spotted a place that promised great Coffee, home-made chocolates and Ice cream. It sounded good to me and despite not having Pie (it is apparently illegal in the state of Colorado; Pot is OK but Pie, now you are pushing it!) had something for everbody. I had burnt enough calories to want a double scoop of Ice cream in a fresh waffle cone. Ian, as always wanted chocolates, the darker the better, but shied away from the "Dirty Hippy" chocolate bark.
Paul consoled his lack of Pie consumption with a Mint Espresso shake and some other sweet treat.
We, despite the giant influx of calories, were rather spent and, by commity, decided to forego Engineer pass for the pavement loop through Ridgeway and back around to Telluride. Paul tells me he spotted a bear crapping in the woods, but I think it may have been the Mint Shake causing strange halucinations. It being our last night in Telluride we planned to do a bit more looking around in town and then go check out the famous Brown Dog Pizza. Any place that has legal pot consumption had better have good Pizza and Brown Dog did not disappoint. It might have even been the best I have ever had, and my judgement was not enhanced by any funny weedy substance.
As Colorado would have it, it was pouring rain as we left to head back to camp, but it was short lived and camp was dry for the evening. I took a chance, despite my comrades protests, and packed the tarp, that had saved our butts the evening before, when the sky had opened and unleashed its wrath!
[video=youtube;ImXyWvY2M7c]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ImXyWvY2M7c&feature=youtu.be[/video]
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger,Stand a little taller"
Another morning and this time clear weather to start the day, what a change! Today we had planned to do a loop from Telluride to Ouray then over Engineer Pass and through Silverton back over Ophir Pass to camp. Having Done Ophir on the way in we decided to do a pavement loop through Ridgeway and highway 62 to the West back around on Hwy 145 after Engineer Pass. This would prove to be a bit ambitious considering the toughness of the terrain. We really had no Idea what we were getting ourselves into despite my extensive research prior to the trip. Maps and Ride reports and Google Earth only tell a part of the picture after pavement comes to an end.
We sat on the patio at Baked in Telluride and watched the local stoners wander about and cluster to decide on how to save the world from the evils of modern life. We to where on the fringes of civilized life, at least for the moment. Our mission today was to explore and conquer Imogene Pass across to Ouray. It starts a few blocks north of the Main street in Telluride, just off Oak Street and looks to all the world like a back-alley as it starts up out of town. It is a reddish rock that is badly rutted and strewn with baseball and larger rocks with drop-offs that (even just out of town) will require a hospital trip if you are lucky. As it climbs ever steeper and higher towards the remnants of the Tomboy mine it gets downright dangerous and real care is required to avoid a visit to a different kind of doctor with lousy stitching skills.
There is one distiquishing feature as you climb this pass and that is a stone tunnel after which the trail steepens and hugs a rock face up to the lower part of the mine ruins where the Tomboy mine tunnel entrance is. From there until the last steep switchback before the summit, it twists and turns up some of the biggest rock "steps" that I have ever ridden. The rest of the trails are covered in huge chunky rocks that can throw you onto the ground in a heartbeat. This fact combined with the elevation made for a real riding challenge with serious consequences for any errors. At one point I stopped in the rock-step-garden (as I call it) wanting to make sure that my crew had made it safely through as well. Paul had gotten off-track, an easy thing to do with the maze of alternate trails in the waist high brush growing on that level of the pass. I heard him first, then saw him making his way back to where I was standing on a car sized boulder. Ian was not to be seen, nor heard and I was worried that he had crashed and was having trouble lifting his bike in the thin air. Paul and I started hiking back down, with my GPS in hand to stay on the correct path. Paul though he could hear Ian's bike but I was sure he was imagining it. Finnally I spotted Ian climbing the rough trail toward us and as he passed, too steep for him to stop by us, I noticed his tool pouch bouncing more than usual. It had come open and I spotted on of his tools lying on the trail at my feet amongst the rocks. I watched for more as I laboured to climb back up to the bikes. Both Paul and I needed a breather when we reached the spot where we had parked the bikes. Ian had only lost two tools, one of which I had found coming back up.
[video=youtube;FIK8Fa14JMM]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FIK8Fa14JMM[/video]
We decided to take the remaining climb one section (switch-back) at a time so as not to kill ourselves with the effort. I managed to take one corner a bit too slow and spun out in the loose rock trying to avoid a huge rock. As I was getting myself going, Paul came around the corner, saw me and picked a bad line causing a minor slow speed crash to his left. Once Ian and I had parked on the next flat spot we went back down to help pick up Paul's bike and get him launched up that section. Another break and another section found us within a half mile of the summit with a steep but easy-looking trail remaining. We relaxed on a huge snow bank that felt good through out riding suits as we reclined on the cold surface.
The last push to the top was very steep but all the bikes climbed it with ease, the last switchback being a bit muddy fron snow melt.
The summit was beautiful (a word wholly inadequate for its description) and we had an amazing vantage point on the valley and mountain ranges that were now all below us The Elevation was well over 13,000 feet and was by far the highest we had attained in Colorado! We marveled in it, the views, the achievement. It made the work and risk getting there worth it. This is what the whole trip came down to, this moment, this view, WOW!
Like the saying goes; "What goes up, must come down" and so we did. The downward leg was easy at first other than a few good sized steps (sheer drops off rock of about a foot) into chunky rock that would smash man and machine without discrimination. The trail was easy to follow on the GPS when you had a second to look at it, but was a tiring workout for the whole body. We had met only one truck just as we left Telluride on the way up, but on the descent met Jeeps, Quads, side-by-sides and a couple of 4X4 tour trucks with doe-eyed tourists stuffed in the seats like sheep. You could only squeeze by if you picked the spot carefully as the drops were career ending. Eventually, we made it to the "easier" section after a couple of fun stream crossings, all of our techniques getting good by now for that manuever. Somehow Paul had a tip over, but only Ian saw this and only his pride might have taken a knock. Even once we got onto the wide gravel into Ouray we had to be careful, as the drops into the river gorge were sheer and significant and without a guard rail to be seen.
[video=youtube;_sT1mV2cNYE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_sT1mV2cNYE&feature=youtu.be[/video]
We stopped in Ouray (pronounced OU-Rye I think) to take some pictures, then went on the hunt for Pie again. I spotted a place that promised great Coffee, home-made chocolates and Ice cream. It sounded good to me and despite not having Pie (it is apparently illegal in the state of Colorado; Pot is OK but Pie, now you are pushing it!) had something for everbody. I had burnt enough calories to want a double scoop of Ice cream in a fresh waffle cone. Ian, as always wanted chocolates, the darker the better, but shied away from the "Dirty Hippy" chocolate bark.
Paul consoled his lack of Pie consumption with a Mint Espresso shake and some other sweet treat.
We, despite the giant influx of calories, were rather spent and, by commity, decided to forego Engineer pass for the pavement loop through Ridgeway and back around to Telluride. Paul tells me he spotted a bear crapping in the woods, but I think it may have been the Mint Shake causing strange halucinations. It being our last night in Telluride we planned to do a bit more looking around in town and then go check out the famous Brown Dog Pizza. Any place that has legal pot consumption had better have good Pizza and Brown Dog did not disappoint. It might have even been the best I have ever had, and my judgement was not enhanced by any funny weedy substance.
As Colorado would have it, it was pouring rain as we left to head back to camp, but it was short lived and camp was dry for the evening. I took a chance, despite my comrades protests, and packed the tarp, that had saved our butts the evening before, when the sky had opened and unleashed its wrath!
[video=youtube;ImXyWvY2M7c]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ImXyWvY2M7c&feature=youtu.be[/video]
Last edited:
Oldschool
Moderator
Day Ten "I Thought this was an Easy Day?"
"There's trouble up ahead, my mind is flashing red, and Evil's just around the bend"
The destination today was Gunnison and althought the highway mileage would put us there in only a few hours, I would never make something that easy. This was an adventure dammit and it had to be a challenge. The weather for a twist was nice for packing up and we decided not to do "Baked" yet again, just have something quick at camp , grab fuel at the bottom of the hill and head up what was "an easy scenic road", called Last Dollar road. As we ran past Telluride airport it was indeed a scenic and easy ride on pavement, but that quickly changed into easy gravel, then eventually it had a sign; "Extremely slick mud next 8 miles when wet". Well it had rained last evening, really rained! This could be entertaining.
It was dirt, surrounded by trees and not overly dry yet, in spite of the sunny sky. In the valleys there were water holes, one which was deep enough to reach my ankles and soak my feet. The mud was indeed slippery but we all tip-toed across sucessfully, even stopping for pictures once up on the drier sections.
The road did get easier and eventually reached highway 62 and back into Ridgeway where I fueled my one functional tank, before hitting gravel again over Owl Pass. This was tame at first before it entered another national forest and became far more interesting. The road twisted and turned its way up and over the pass. It changed direction and elevation so many times that it was hard to follow on the GPS. I was so into "the zone" that I didn't stop to take pictures of an amazing-shaped rock tower that reminded me of Devil's Tower. Eventually I "stopped to smell the roses" and take pictures. The sunshine had been fleeting, and the run up Big Cimmaron road was cool and damp and a lot of high speed fun. Highway 50 west of Gunnison was a blast as well with one particular section through a slash canyon a favorite. The original camp looked a bit like a barren wasteland and had nothing for shelter against the evil Colorado Moonsoons of late. We continued on into Gunnison, to deal with a couple of maintenance issues; An oil change for Ian's DRZ, and a front tire for my ride. Gunnison Motorsports was open, where as the KTM dealer was closed on Modays. They had the tire that I required and I returned after a lunch at Subway to pick it up at take it back to camp. While Ian was doing his Oil change, Paul and I scouted out the KOA out by the Airport and decided to (because of the forecast) rent another "Kabin". I changed my tire while Ian & Paul went in search of Coffee and Pie, forgetting that Colorado doesn't have such a thing.
I had the tire installed in short order, then spent some quality time in a hot shower and doing laundry. That evening I utilized the WiFi and continued my ride report for my loyal fans.
The worn out Michelin T-63.
The New TKC 80 installed.
"There's trouble up ahead, my mind is flashing red, and Evil's just around the bend"
The destination today was Gunnison and althought the highway mileage would put us there in only a few hours, I would never make something that easy. This was an adventure dammit and it had to be a challenge. The weather for a twist was nice for packing up and we decided not to do "Baked" yet again, just have something quick at camp , grab fuel at the bottom of the hill and head up what was "an easy scenic road", called Last Dollar road. As we ran past Telluride airport it was indeed a scenic and easy ride on pavement, but that quickly changed into easy gravel, then eventually it had a sign; "Extremely slick mud next 8 miles when wet". Well it had rained last evening, really rained! This could be entertaining.
It was dirt, surrounded by trees and not overly dry yet, in spite of the sunny sky. In the valleys there were water holes, one which was deep enough to reach my ankles and soak my feet. The mud was indeed slippery but we all tip-toed across sucessfully, even stopping for pictures once up on the drier sections.
The road did get easier and eventually reached highway 62 and back into Ridgeway where I fueled my one functional tank, before hitting gravel again over Owl Pass. This was tame at first before it entered another national forest and became far more interesting. The road twisted and turned its way up and over the pass. It changed direction and elevation so many times that it was hard to follow on the GPS. I was so into "the zone" that I didn't stop to take pictures of an amazing-shaped rock tower that reminded me of Devil's Tower. Eventually I "stopped to smell the roses" and take pictures. The sunshine had been fleeting, and the run up Big Cimmaron road was cool and damp and a lot of high speed fun. Highway 50 west of Gunnison was a blast as well with one particular section through a slash canyon a favorite. The original camp looked a bit like a barren wasteland and had nothing for shelter against the evil Colorado Moonsoons of late. We continued on into Gunnison, to deal with a couple of maintenance issues; An oil change for Ian's DRZ, and a front tire for my ride. Gunnison Motorsports was open, where as the KTM dealer was closed on Modays. They had the tire that I required and I returned after a lunch at Subway to pick it up at take it back to camp. While Ian was doing his Oil change, Paul and I scouted out the KOA out by the Airport and decided to (because of the forecast) rent another "Kabin". I changed my tire while Ian & Paul went in search of Coffee and Pie, forgetting that Colorado doesn't have such a thing.
I had the tire installed in short order, then spent some quality time in a hot shower and doing laundry. That evening I utilized the WiFi and continued my ride report for my loyal fans.
The worn out Michelin T-63.
The New TKC 80 installed.
Last edited:
FZ1riderNY
Moderator
Wow! Just Wow! Outstanding photos Lee. Thanks for sharing. The country is so spectacular. I really need to get the heck out of here!
Oldschool
Moderator
Day Eleven, "We Don't Need No Stinkin' Orange & Black"
People are strange, when you're a stranger."
The call on the Kabin turned out to be a good one as it rained hard that evening, and again that night, and was misty and rainy come morning. The simple fact of not having to pack up wet tents and other gear was a simple pleasure. After a few illegal U-turns along the road north out of Gunnison I finally found a Cafe, beside the Hipster Coffee shop. I had driven right by it the first time, looking for a now defunct Cafe that Google street view and Urban spoon had said was very good. Not good enough as it turns out.
This place, The "W" cafe with a nice stereotypical Indian Neon sign (Think, Chicago Blackhawk's Logo) out front, was apparently voted "Best Breakfast in town", many years in a row. The towns standards are lower than mine, but it wasn't "bad". The Coffee was horrible, so after breakfast I went next door to see if the "hipster stuff" was any better, it was! MUCH.
I had my back to the door, and one grizzled local all decked out in Triumph gear, looking like a hard drinkin' man, looked out the door at the bikes before departing. Knowing somehow they belonged to us (must have been the Storm Trooper gear on us) he stopped and explained he "had 15 bikes". "I ride a triumph, Steve McQueen rode a triumph!" "He didn't need no Stinkin' orange and black to win races." This wisdom dispenced he wandered across traffic to his Chevy Tahoe and was gone from our lives. He might have been the most interesting character we met along the way.
Ian found chocolate, questionable mint chocolate combination, that I may never understand, but chocolate none the less. Paul talked to a interesting local outside, not as interesting as Triumph -Man, but a better source of information, including the weather forecast. Apparently as we headed north the Monsoon would come to an end.
The road tavelled over another interesting pass as the rain kept coming, and as we neared Carbondale it came on with a vengence. I couldn't help but laugh inside my soggy helmet as I waved my soaked gloves, in greetings, at fellow sufferers along the road that had now become great twisting pavement along highway 133.
We stopped for pictures after descending a nice long pass, about the same time the deluge stopped. The Redstone Coke Ovens were an interesting diversion.
On to Glenwood Springs as the skies cleared and the temperature soared. I spotted a shiny 50'slooking Diner that might have smuggled Pie into Colorado and looped around the block to investigate. As chance would have it, for a price, two pieces of the rare contraband were available. I made the sacrifice and had an enormous Cinnamon Bun with enough Icing to have drowned 3 of them, just so my companions could indulge in the sought after fruit and pastry delight of PIE!
We hit the I-70 for a very brief run up to New Castle for fuel and decided to make a few more miles in the glorious sunshine (another rare Colorado commodity) Rather than camp where originally planned, we ran up to Meeker Colorado, past the Harvey Gap State Park and Rifle Gap State Park along an entertaining and at times rough and marbley back-road that paralleled Highway 13 to the east. I would strongly advise against this road in the wet as the surface went from Marbles to dirt over and over along the way.
We camped at River RV Camp that was nicely located along the White River just west of Meeker. Other than the revolting porta-potty beside the "tent area" ( I might have been permanently traumatized) it would do the job. We ran into town for dinner at the Mexican House restaurant which turned out to be pretty decent. As darkness fell we watched the bats come out and silently reduce the local mosquito population.
People are strange, when you're a stranger."
The call on the Kabin turned out to be a good one as it rained hard that evening, and again that night, and was misty and rainy come morning. The simple fact of not having to pack up wet tents and other gear was a simple pleasure. After a few illegal U-turns along the road north out of Gunnison I finally found a Cafe, beside the Hipster Coffee shop. I had driven right by it the first time, looking for a now defunct Cafe that Google street view and Urban spoon had said was very good. Not good enough as it turns out.
This place, The "W" cafe with a nice stereotypical Indian Neon sign (Think, Chicago Blackhawk's Logo) out front, was apparently voted "Best Breakfast in town", many years in a row. The towns standards are lower than mine, but it wasn't "bad". The Coffee was horrible, so after breakfast I went next door to see if the "hipster stuff" was any better, it was! MUCH.
I had my back to the door, and one grizzled local all decked out in Triumph gear, looking like a hard drinkin' man, looked out the door at the bikes before departing. Knowing somehow they belonged to us (must have been the Storm Trooper gear on us) he stopped and explained he "had 15 bikes". "I ride a triumph, Steve McQueen rode a triumph!" "He didn't need no Stinkin' orange and black to win races." This wisdom dispenced he wandered across traffic to his Chevy Tahoe and was gone from our lives. He might have been the most interesting character we met along the way.
Ian found chocolate, questionable mint chocolate combination, that I may never understand, but chocolate none the less. Paul talked to a interesting local outside, not as interesting as Triumph -Man, but a better source of information, including the weather forecast. Apparently as we headed north the Monsoon would come to an end.
The road tavelled over another interesting pass as the rain kept coming, and as we neared Carbondale it came on with a vengence. I couldn't help but laugh inside my soggy helmet as I waved my soaked gloves, in greetings, at fellow sufferers along the road that had now become great twisting pavement along highway 133.
We stopped for pictures after descending a nice long pass, about the same time the deluge stopped. The Redstone Coke Ovens were an interesting diversion.
On to Glenwood Springs as the skies cleared and the temperature soared. I spotted a shiny 50'slooking Diner that might have smuggled Pie into Colorado and looped around the block to investigate. As chance would have it, for a price, two pieces of the rare contraband were available. I made the sacrifice and had an enormous Cinnamon Bun with enough Icing to have drowned 3 of them, just so my companions could indulge in the sought after fruit and pastry delight of PIE!
We hit the I-70 for a very brief run up to New Castle for fuel and decided to make a few more miles in the glorious sunshine (another rare Colorado commodity) Rather than camp where originally planned, we ran up to Meeker Colorado, past the Harvey Gap State Park and Rifle Gap State Park along an entertaining and at times rough and marbley back-road that paralleled Highway 13 to the east. I would strongly advise against this road in the wet as the surface went from Marbles to dirt over and over along the way.
We camped at River RV Camp that was nicely located along the White River just west of Meeker. Other than the revolting porta-potty beside the "tent area" ( I might have been permanently traumatized) it would do the job. We ran into town for dinner at the Mexican House restaurant which turned out to be pretty decent. As darkness fell we watched the bats come out and silently reduce the local mosquito population.
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Oldschool
Moderator
Thanks Billy! It isn't about where you live, but where you allow yourself to travel. The US is a vast and beautifully varied land. The people have always made me feel welcome in my travels.
As Mark Twain once said; "Travel is the antidote to ignorance" and anyone who bashes the US without knowing anything other than what they see in the news should remember that!
Oldschool
Moderator
Day Twelve, "I can see Clearly Now"
"The rain has gone"
The dawn came without rain, and as we were departing Colorado today it was with a sense of Irony that this was the case. We had coffee at the campsite and decided to put a few miles between Meeker and ourselves before a breakfast stop in Craig CO. The sky was blue and the temperature brisk as we headed north on highway 13 through Hamilton. We passed a huge coal fired power plant just south of Craig, before stopping at the Village Inn restaurant for a breakfast that was as good as any in our travels, and I would recommend this stop if you are out that way. I commented that the interior was like something on the 70's show The Brady Bunch, in a good way. Super Clean, with a funky retro vibe, and shockingly they had a HUGE Pie menu. There goes that theory; Pie in Colorado is like good coffee in the Midwest, a rare substance indeed!
Outside the place, gleaming in the sun was the Sticker Bus, quite odd really.
We continued up highway 13 north of Craig until county road 27 up over the Elkhead Mountain Range. This was a great road that ran into NF road 110, before joining Slater road (CF-1) to officially exit Colorado. It was so varied from start to finish that it was incredible. We could see the Coal plant again but from a long way above the city of Craig. We went from sage-brush and sand to Pine forest and back to Aspen forest before returning to Sage and sand transversing this road.
We crossed the Snake River just before Slater and were then in Wyoming. We followed Wyoming 70 up to Sage Creek Road which would take us nearly straight (on the map anyway) into Rawlins, our end point for the day. As soon as I exited off highway 70 onto Sage Creek road (cue ominous music) there was a sign "Road Closed" and a rather large one at that. DAMN, this would mean a lot of extra miles, %$#@*! After a brief consult with my compatriots we decided to go see what the problem was and if we could manage to get through. Maybe 10 miles up the road I came upon a construction supervisor truck and stopped to see if my charm or guile could get us a pass. He was a nice old fellow who hearing my tale of woe; only enough gas to maybe make Rawlins and be from Canada and not sure how to detour around this route, said, sure, "you may have to wait a bit but you should be able to make it".
I thanked him as the other two guys rolled up and carried on to the first of many construction sites along the road. The supe must have radioed ahead as the first site had a huge-tracked back-hoe making a go-around in theditch for us. He smoothed out the dirt in the ditch and ran over it to pack it down, then moved out of the way as another worker waved us through the path. Wow, you have to like that. At the next site we had to wait until two enomous earth movers started up over Deep creek on a new road bed and were instructed to follow them through.
Eventually we passed the last of the construction and wicked up the speed on super hard packed gravel as Wyoming dumped a "welcome shower" on us. It was brief and driven by strong wind but was over (the rain anyway) as we rolled up to the KOA in Rawlins. We decided after a quick look around that tenting would not be a good option so another "Kabin" it was. This one had a mini fridge and air conditioning should we need, we wouldn't. We did a run to the local greasy spoon called Penny's Diner in front of the Oak Tree Hotel nearby. It was as you would expect, but they did have Pie! Paul, The Pie Hunter was happy.
"The rain has gone"
The dawn came without rain, and as we were departing Colorado today it was with a sense of Irony that this was the case. We had coffee at the campsite and decided to put a few miles between Meeker and ourselves before a breakfast stop in Craig CO. The sky was blue and the temperature brisk as we headed north on highway 13 through Hamilton. We passed a huge coal fired power plant just south of Craig, before stopping at the Village Inn restaurant for a breakfast that was as good as any in our travels, and I would recommend this stop if you are out that way. I commented that the interior was like something on the 70's show The Brady Bunch, in a good way. Super Clean, with a funky retro vibe, and shockingly they had a HUGE Pie menu. There goes that theory; Pie in Colorado is like good coffee in the Midwest, a rare substance indeed!
Outside the place, gleaming in the sun was the Sticker Bus, quite odd really.
We continued up highway 13 north of Craig until county road 27 up over the Elkhead Mountain Range. This was a great road that ran into NF road 110, before joining Slater road (CF-1) to officially exit Colorado. It was so varied from start to finish that it was incredible. We could see the Coal plant again but from a long way above the city of Craig. We went from sage-brush and sand to Pine forest and back to Aspen forest before returning to Sage and sand transversing this road.
We crossed the Snake River just before Slater and were then in Wyoming. We followed Wyoming 70 up to Sage Creek Road which would take us nearly straight (on the map anyway) into Rawlins, our end point for the day. As soon as I exited off highway 70 onto Sage Creek road (cue ominous music) there was a sign "Road Closed" and a rather large one at that. DAMN, this would mean a lot of extra miles, %$#@*! After a brief consult with my compatriots we decided to go see what the problem was and if we could manage to get through. Maybe 10 miles up the road I came upon a construction supervisor truck and stopped to see if my charm or guile could get us a pass. He was a nice old fellow who hearing my tale of woe; only enough gas to maybe make Rawlins and be from Canada and not sure how to detour around this route, said, sure, "you may have to wait a bit but you should be able to make it".
I thanked him as the other two guys rolled up and carried on to the first of many construction sites along the road. The supe must have radioed ahead as the first site had a huge-tracked back-hoe making a go-around in theditch for us. He smoothed out the dirt in the ditch and ran over it to pack it down, then moved out of the way as another worker waved us through the path. Wow, you have to like that. At the next site we had to wait until two enomous earth movers started up over Deep creek on a new road bed and were instructed to follow them through.
Eventually we passed the last of the construction and wicked up the speed on super hard packed gravel as Wyoming dumped a "welcome shower" on us. It was brief and driven by strong wind but was over (the rain anyway) as we rolled up to the KOA in Rawlins. We decided after a quick look around that tenting would not be a good option so another "Kabin" it was. This one had a mini fridge and air conditioning should we need, we wouldn't. We did a run to the local greasy spoon called Penny's Diner in front of the Oak Tree Hotel nearby. It was as you would expect, but they did have Pie! Paul, The Pie Hunter was happy.
