I'm sitting on a rock on the 'Middle St. Vrain River', literally right off the road but I wanted to make it an early day. A day that really wasn't monumental but it's good and still is, I may have an hour of day light left. Like I said, the spot is right off the road, barren of any of the 'Closed Dusk Till Dawn' signs that have peppered this road known as W7 outside of Lyons. I'm good with it, traffic is relatively heavy as there is a 3 day bluegrass festival going on in the town of Lyons, I'm guessing it will die down once dark creeps in, who knows, these Coloradians may drive these canyon roads all night long being accustomed to them. Regardless, I have a good spot with a small rushing bit of water talking to me. Makes me think of Sidharta and the Ferryman, which provided Sidharta with the insight of life goes on but is always changing, you are not one provided soul your entire life, your soul is a multitude of changing entities, which brings my mind to Steppenwolf, another great work by the German man names Hess. Life evolves while revolving, I like the sound of that, if you're not happy, you have the power in yourself to make that necessary change, which leads me to Marley, 'Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds.' Beautiful, true, blatant and honest.
My morning was swimming from the night before, fueled by drink and thought, I jammed out the last 2 weeks of living, riding and being. Reliving moments before my mind stashes them away in my personal repository, forgotten till I may be lying on my deathbed. Which will make me smile, I know it. I can say with satisfaction, If I seized to exist tomorrow, I have lived a happy life, though I don't wish for such an instance, as I would like to see what tomorrow holds. My spot last night on Storm Mountain was a good spot. A winding climb up a rutted gravel/dirt road greeted by walls of mountains everywhere, besides the east, where I could see the grid of lights projected from Loveland and farther east, the dreaded CO prairie. Gives me shivers. I do respect the prairie, you have to go through it no matter how far or south you go if you are heading west. It's a purgatory in a sense, do your time here and you can pass.
My funds are running low, not dangerously, but it caught my eye. I told Bike this evening that we may have to limit her drink to one tank a day, which roughly covers 150-200 miles, that's good, it sets a pace, as I plan on 2.5 more months on the road and then to my brothers where I'll find whatever work I can for the winter, replenishing and paying back the plastic. Today was a big burn in the wallet as Bike needed a rear tire, pretty bad, and seeing the forest roads that I venture down, traveling or looking for a place to squat, the last thing I need is a rock puncturing the rubber, leaving us stranded if a plug wont work. A piece of mind as I look at it and it is inevitable, as with a machine, I need to make sure she's taken care of with oil, fuel, tires and the pat on the tank. I treat Bike better than I. I get by on the least possible, the next five days consists of 5 various cans of Chef Boyardee, packets of crackers and a box of 6 pop tarts for breakfast. Tomorrow I am meeting Teddy, a past co-worker and friend now residing in Boulder, for a meal, which meal, I don't know yet. I will treat myself to a big salad and possibly a large milk. I have to give props to the Folks for feeding and housing myself and Zach for the few days we were all together, it means a lot, but meant more being together. Being back to solo, I keep it as frugal as possible.
I got to the bike shop around 11am, hoping to squeeze me in, as bike shops in my experience are known to do with travelers. They had a tire and asked if I was passing through or hanging around. I told them I've been in the area for the last 3 days and they said they could get to it at 3pm, leaving me 4 hours of 'what to do?'. Ft. Collins is a college town, there was stuff to do I'm sure, but that always means pay to play, I was already dropping funds on a tire, last thing I needed to do was spend more cash. So I contemplated and accepted their offer, but decided to hang around the lounge area of the shop and charge the computer and kick back. 30 minutes later, they get to the bike. I don't know if a spot opened up or they wanted the dirty leather clad tattooed vagabond out of sight from respectable costumers. I shouldn't say that, as they were very accommodating and let me hang around for 3 hours even though Bike was ready. A thank you to Jim and Roxanne at the shop. It is fun being the young upstart looking fellow on an old mans bike as they are known as. Not chick magnets these Beemers, girls don't come up and say 'Hi guy', older guys come up and say 'Hi guy.' Ha, I love it. Dad and I got a double take at a small VA rally a couple years back. He was on his 1200 Kaw Ninja and I on the Airhead. We took off our helmets and a dude as I said, double looked and pointed to Dad, 'You should be on that bike,' pointing to Bike, and pointed at me and said, 'You should be on that bike.', pointing to the crotch rocket. I'm in no rush anyway. The Kaw intimidates me, though it is a blast to ride. A lot of power kicking there.
I've made a rough plan of a route through western CO. I am going to be bold and venture into the Utah desert in the next few days or weeks to visit Arches and the Canyonlands, witnessing what Edward Abbey so honestly and passionately wrote of in Desert Solitude 50 years ago. I know it's what he didn't want to happen, pavement and roads through the parks, him expressing that you should park the vehicles and walk on hands and knees through the desert, bleeding and getting to know the land intimately. I will find you're past location of residence Mr. Abbey, and offer a bit of tobacco and a prayer from someone who understands what you were aiming for. Mother Earth is it, and there aint no more. As Cash sings in 'Oh Bury Me Not'… 'I love creation better as it stood…'. An old rancher I was talking with in SD remarked in the same manner in regards to me telling him land is all gone back east. He said, 'Why mess with something that is good as it is?'. I agreed and we shook hands.
It's good sitting here. I put up the rainfly, overcast and sporadic sprinkles, better safe than wake up wet as I was planning on keeping it easy and sleeping on the ground. The zipper on the actual tent has bit it, good thing the rainfly works as a shelter by itself which I prefer as there is more room. A smaller tent is ideal, but it's nice to have enough space to stash all your gear plus you under one spot.
Zach made a comment the other night that really made me smile while him, the Folks and I sat around in Ashley NF. He said, 'Y'all visit me at my house, I visit yall at Mom and Dad's, and here we are visiting Houston in his house.' spreading his arms which we all understood as the outdoors and nature and just being.
Goodnight…
'In the tent, Boulder County Sheriffs Department…'
'Yes sir..' I replied and unzipped the fly.
'Aren't you aware it's illegal to camp along the St Vraine river? Have identification?' The man in blue retorts.
'I didn't see any of the 'Dusk Till Dawn' signs here sir, so I figured I was goods.' as I hand him my ID and tell him, 'I'm going to step out with you.' Getting out of the back in longjohns and my heavy socks n hoodie.
'WV eh, Just so you know, Forest Service has closed off dispersed camping along the river as to too much use, I'll be right back and hang tight…'.
'Yes sir…' I grab my water bottle and guzzle some liquid while sitting on a rock and waiting to hear what he comes back with.
'You're all good, take you're time, I don't want you on the road if you're not rested.' he tells me.
I'm surprised! I figured he would have found some reason to cite me…
I take back my ID and he starts asking about how long I've been out, I tell him and he says, 'Sounds like a good time, do it while you can. Like I said, no rush and have a good day.'
I had previously woken at 6am, rolled over and went back to sleep. He tells me it's 8am and I figure it's time to move regardless as I'm meeting Teddy at some point this afternoon. He waves goodbye, I pack and head back to Lyons where I currently am, writing or I should say typing this down. I'm in the Lyons city park, sunny day, no citation and all good.
From here, I meet Teddy in Boulder and then back heading a meandering west towards Gunnison.
---
After being awoken by the Boulder County Sheriffs Dept., I went ahead and packed up gear even though the Sheriff told me to take my time, I was awake and no reason to hang around, I seen it, done it and enjoyed it, time to move on. I went on into the town of Lyons and made break at the city park, chilling and totally taking my time, it was almost 9am and too early to call Teddy to schedule meet up in the Boulder area, maybe 25 miles tops to the South of Lyons. The town overed free Wi-Fi which I took advantage of and having cell service I caught up with Aunt Melody who called the day before, Little Sis Anika and Family, the Folks and tried Mr. Douglass Brunner. Once 10 or 11am rolled around, I gave Teddy Carroll a call and touched base, he asked my plans, told him I have no schedule, it's all on him. He stated that the blues band he drums for, Blues Ambassadors, were playing at the Boulder Outlook Hotel, the premier blues establishment in Boulder, that evening and I said that would be better than lunch, not only catching up, but witnessing what he spends his personal time partaking in creatively. We made plans to meet up around 6:30 or 7pm.
I continued hanging around the park and before I knew it, 4 hours has gone by. Time to ditch Lyons and see what else is out in the area, hit up forest roads I scoped on the web in case necessary for sleeping arrangements and scope out the Boulder Outlook Hotel while I had time on my hands and not having to worry about it right before I needed to be there.
Leaving Lyons, I took 36S heading straight for Boulder, bicyclists were in abundance on the road, making wide berths between us on the road, I respect them and watch out for them. Arriving fairly quickly in Boulder area, I find Broadway of 36S, shoot through town and I see what I think to be a fellow Airhead up ahead 2 up and right downhill, both rider and passenger spread their arms as if flying and it makes me smile, knowing they have a sense of humor and definitely enjoy the experience of riding motorized 2 wheelers. Of course I scoot to get a better look and we end up next to each other at a red light. 'Great choice of ride there,' I say stopping on his right. He looks over and flashes me a smile, another young guy about my age and what I take as his younger sister or possibly niece riding pillion. 'Good stuff, man, Beemer or Guzzi?' he throws back at me. I point at his bike and say, 'Same thing.' Taking it as he possibly just acquired one of the best built motors ever. I ask the year and he tells me a '79, definitely cherry, chrome looks immaculate, black paint looking as if it was painted yesterday and sporting a bikini fairing. He scopes out my ride, 'Looks like your out for a while…', light turns green but we don't budge being out front. 'Almost 4 months.' I tell him. He makes his right hand into a first, crosses his heart and says, 'My heart is with you brother, keep it up and be safe.' We say our goodbyes with thumbs up and scoot off, me looking for 119W heading out of town towards the forest roads I scoped out.
Once on 119, I pass yet another Airhead heading in the opposite direction, so far, this town rocks, 2 Beemer Airheads in under 5 minutes. 119 turns into a canyon road, large sentinel rock walls impressing up on both sides, can't beat this. I go about 4 miles and find Magnolia Road on the left which the forest roads are off of in the Teddy Roosevelt NF. I venture 4 miles up the road, constant 10mph switchbacks literally switching back and forth, a total 2nd gear road. I find 2 spots worthy of squat spots for the night in case I need them, not knowing Teddy's living situation with his wife, Sammy and 3 kids, and me not wanting to impose.
I go up Magnolia and come back down, mission accomplished. Boulder Creek runs at the bottom of the road and I decide this is a good spot as any to kill some time. I park the bike after looping around a parked CB750, shed the leather and walk down to the banks of the creek. I put my feet in the water, boy is it cold, find a spot just past rushing rocks and immediately sit in the water, I let out a loud whoop and my body is instantly refreshed, only a moment of time is necessary. I loaf around with my feet in the water and the banks. I walk back up to the parking area, find a large boulder with a flat face and stretch out. I eat what's left of a cracker packet, enjoy a smoke, and literally kick back and watch the traffic and observe the rock walls. After a bit of soaking in energy rays and dry, a car pulls up and 2 dudes step out and we immediately introduce ourselves, them being Jay and Shawn, meeting a woman they arranged to buy a bicycle pump from on Craig's List. We briefly exchange stories, them being from Maryland, and hanging around Boulder for the unseen future, me telling them I was to go to a show of Teddy's. The woman they were meeting shown up within a few minutes with her husband in a yellow 70's Dodge Charger. They go down to meet her and exchange cash for pump. Shawn gets back in the driver seat and flashes me a peace sign, Jay comes up, offers his hand and says, 'Maybe we'll see you at the Boulder Outlook,' them knowing of the establishment, and he then also forms a fist, put's it over his heart and says, 'be safe and make the most out of it.' Twice in under 2 hours I'm told that with the same visual gesture, this town IS good, sincere people cool other humans. They depart and yet another Airhead, a /5 I believe pulls in to let traffic by, I throw my arms in the air but they don't see me as I'm cradled in a rock laid back absorbing energy from Sun. 3 Airheads in one afternoon, this IS good.
After a couple hours by the creek and on the rocks, 5pm rolls around and it's time to go scope out the Boulder Outlook Hotel while I have time on my hands. I venture through Boulder, hip college town and quickly find the establishment. I make a call to the folks, let them know I'm in good shape an go sit on the patio and talk with the locals.
Just after 6pm I see Teddy looping around to the front of the building to unload his kit, we meet eyes and point at each other, he parks, gets out and I walk up to greet him, 'Teddy Carroll, how you doing, good to see you.' We shake hands and hug, this is the second time we've met up in the Boulder area since he's been in the State. We unload his drums, he sets up while talking of his new PR/marketing job with the local Harley dealership, talk bikes and catch up. His harp player, Jerry walks in and he's a total hey how you doing, I'm Jerry kind of guy and we hit it off. We sit down to order food and drink, local IPA for me, what happened to be the best chicken legs I've ever had(6 of them), a salad which I was in need of and Teddy and I split a basket of fried cheese curds. I'm treating myself to great fried food while it's available. The 3 of us a talking and in walks the guitar player Jimmy with his wife Roxanne and son Danny. We all greet and meet each other and come to find out Jimmy and Roxanne are from Desert Dave's home State of Iowa, Spirit Lake where my last night in the state was and Council Bluffs. I told them I had a wonderful time in Iowa, it being a beautiful rolling State and got to experience the RAG BRAI which she did 35 years back. Small, big wonderful world it is.
8pm rolls around and the Ambassadors hit the stage. I'm pleasantly greeted with great well played tunes, people up and about scooting around and me taking pictures of the experience. They have a female singer who does a fabulous job, Jerry having a great time on the harp, Jimmy tearing it up on guitar, Dave with the steady drive on bass and Teddy keeping the backbeat going with precision. They play 2 sets and I have a great time, thinking my timing was great to meet up with Teddy and watch his band.
The establishment is a good friendly spot. Our waitress, Jess, grilled me where I was from cos of my leather bibs and no shirt. Come to find out she lived 3 Summers in Fayetteville, WV being a rafting guide. Good looking friendly gal beaming with a smile and she told me she thought I could be from WV, as a friend of hers back in the state sported bibs and no shirt. Good deal.
After the show, I'm talking to the locals at the bar, me having my beer limit, and Teddy comes up and asks my plans for the night. I tell him I scoped out a couple forest roads and he tells me he has a basement with extra bed and shower and I'm more than welcome to come back with him, but he's leaving now as he's beat. I follow him to his place in Superior and he shows me the spot and I take my 2nd proper 'civilized' shower in a month.
We talk for a good bit upstairs after I clean up joined by Darwin, his family's Boston/Beagle mix and catch up more in depth, him telling me of his job situation, family life and how Colorado has made for a great move. Teddy and I worked with each other at Buzzhoney back in Pittsburgh, by the way, that's the connection.
He then starts asking about my Journey and truly intrigued and wanting to know more and what I was expected and experiencing on the road with a motorcycle for this length of time. 1st thing that comes to mind, as I really don't know what I'm doing other than I can, I tell him I have never come across a bad soul on the road, be it with this Journey or the previous 3 years of ventures on the bike. Teddy is taken back and says, 'really, not one person?' I say, 'Everyone has been great and really, not one bad soul.' He digs it, and tells me, 'When people are worried about such a thing, from experience you can tell them otherwise.' He also comments on me living a truly literary life, 'It's not like me, taking 4 months off from work and family to ride a bike, I'd know what I'm coming back to. You don't, it's a true experience with the unknown. Be proud that you took the leap and are actually doing this, not letting fear and the unknown hinder you.' Talking, it leads to the base of just being, getting out there, and simply just being, not letting worries conquer and putting yourself out there, exposed and living free. He states that Sammy, his wife has 'be.' tattooed on her wrist as a constant reminder,I dig that, couldn't ask for a better mark to look at and remind you the basic important aspect. Just be.
This morning, I slept in till about 10am, a good bed and a hot shower goes along way. I woke to the smell of frying bacon, hmm, I could taste it and almost digest it. I get up, get my things together, fold the blankets to make it look like I haven't been there and go upstairs. Upstairs, Teddy and Sammy's family is in gear. Their 3 wonderful kids Maeve, Molly and Aiden are doing their thing and Sammy and Teddy are making eggs, bacon, and pancakes with fruit on the side. Sammy gives me a hug, and makes me feel welcomed and Teddy asks if I slept well. I re-introduce myself to the kids as the last time I saw them was when Teddy would bring them in the office at Buzzhoney which has already been 6 years back. We sit down to have breakfast, a good solid breakfast I should say. It was fun sitting around with the Carrolls, being apart of the family and joining it. Good honest family they are. Afterwards, the kids went back to doing their things and Sammy, Teddy and I sat around the table and talking about my Journey, experience and possible routes towards Gunnison, CO. I have to say they were truly intrigued and extremely supportive in regards to what I'm doing.
I started packing my couple of bits and gearing up for the road around noon after we took a group pic documenting the day and I hit the road. 1st stop was Eldorado City, Co which was a mere 10 mles or so down the road from the Carrolls. I rode down there and it was a cool set up, pavement ends as soon as you enter town and seemed like the pool (spring fed) was the hit of the town. Seeing that I'm frugal and water is in abundance in Colorado, I passed and left town heading south towards Golden, CO where I fueled up touched base with the Folks and had a great conversation with Bill Owens who I graduated with from High School and haven't talked to since. It was good to catch up, he also is really supportive in what I'm doing and we caught up and shared Journey stories and what's been going on in each others lives. Good stuff!
I hit 6W and it kicked in full throttle. I was in the zone, the groove or whatever else you want to call it, I was there. A 19 mile canyon ride towards Idaho Springs (my 3 time in a week or more), I was hooping and a hollering, throwing up my left arm is solidarity to the fellow riders heading in the opposite direction and screaming my head off through the tunnels. You can't ignore something like that and not help belting out at the top of your lungs how damn happy you are. And I was. My route from Idaho Springs was going to put me on I-70 where 6 joined up for about 30 miles with a detour on 6 breaking away from the interstate and taking me through
Keystone and Dillon. The interstate sucks as usual if you don't have to be somewhere quick, but I maintained my 50-60mph. The break off of 6 was a big welcome after 20 miles on the interstate and I shot straight up to the sky climbing the mountain towards the ski towns. After about 15 miles, 6 catches back up to I-70 which I only had to traverse for 3 additional miles before I exited and caught up to CO9 at Frisco. From Frisco, I was still finding myself climbing in elevation where I came to Hoosier Pass on the Continental Divide(yet again!) at 11,541' high where I took advantage of a photo op with the help of Steve, a guy getting ready to bolt down the hill on his bicycle. We chatted for a moment, and he was grilling me on what I was doing and dug what he heard. I told him to watch out for the cages as they're out to chill and we parted with a goodbye and a wave. I continued south heading towards Alma, US's highest incorporated town which appeared to be a total speed trap with speed dropping instantly to 25MPH. And what do you know, a truck hauling a horse trailing that I've been playing hop scotch with and finally passed me up was pulled over by Johnny Law at the south end of town. Better him that me.
Exiting Alma, I found myself in South Park, CO which immediately turned into Fairplay where I pulled into a Pike NF ranger station that was closed and scoped out the road map they had posted for the Forest. Being 4pm and only sticking to a tank a day, I found a likely road 10 south, the road to Weston Pass. I rode the 10 miles with impatient drivers I'm guessing coming back from a weekend getaway. I-70 was backed up heading west, a mess of traffic looking at 2hrs to Denver which was only 45 miles or so away. Heading south, there wasn't nearly as much but still a good bit and seemed very anxious, didn't change my demeanor, I carried on at 50-60MPH and let them fly passing by at stupid spots in the road with on coming traffic. Like I've said, I've yet to meet a bad should on the road, but drivers are another story.
I found my road which I think is County Road 21(I think), road down maybe 5 or so miles and found a forest road branching off to the left. I hit the road and it is primitive as all get out with jutting rocks and washed out surface. I take it slow, standing up to view the terrain a bit better and bounce and ricochet about a half mile where I came to a spot with a skeleton on a half assed TeePee and fire ring. I pull in, park in the shade of the low sun about 5 and set up the RainFly for shelter and unpack what I need to. Flies seems to be in abundance and a bee that would just no leave me alone. This thing was getting right in my face, crawling on my hands and being a nuisance, but regardless, it was just being a bee and who was I to swat at him. The bee knows no better than other being a bee, I let him do what he pleased. I talked to Zach for a moment, him sending me a msg saying he was looking through the pix and mentioned what a great time we had, so I called to cached up and run through the last couple of days. With the suns sinking low, the flies and my bee disappeared to where ever they go at night and here I am, set up in a valley surrounded by Rocky Mountains, clear cool mountain evening and a quiet solitude that does me well.
A big shout out to the Carrolls for their hospitality and friendship, the Blues Ambassadors for providing wonderful entertainment and to all the people I met while at the show and had brief encounters with. Life is good, peace and love to all. Good night.
-----
This morning I'm woken by a buzz louder than the usual insect, I open my eyes and a small blue bird of some sort that found it's way in the rainfly batting around the top trying to find a way out. Just using the rainfly for shelter, anything can creep in with the 5 or so inches of gap from the ground. I tell the bird to hold on, getting up to open the fly, but it lands behind the cot and smartly hops out. Good morning! I get out of my shelter and notice the Sky looks solidly overcast. I take my time breaking down and gearing up for the road when I feel a raindrop. I go ahead and finish up and split, hoping to miss what looks like rain in the distance obscuring the high mountain view. I skirt off the rocky road and ride the grass with now my front tire on my mind, it has a couple of 32nds left of tread, but like the previous rear tire I just replaced, I'd hate to poke through what rubber I have left on the front. It's maybe a 5 or 6 mile ride on dirt and gravel back to 285S where I pause, have a smoke and the sprinkle keeps mild.
Next stop is Buena Vista, CO, about 30 miles where I'm at. I head south on 285 for 10 or 15 miles and meet up to 24 where I head north, fuel up and go into a NAPA and ask for details on my proposed route to Cottonwood Pass. I guy in his 50's comes to the desk wearing the name patch, 'Duff', of course stitched in a script. I tell him my intentions and it's just back at the light and hang a right. He says a bicycle race is in the next day or 2 and the Forest Service just happened to grade the road, it turning into dirt at Cottonwood Summit, as he says, it's usually pretty rutted. He wishes me well and say's I'll enjoy the ride and I hit the road.
The climb is easy enough and the Sky still is total overcast. I go a few miles, pass a Forest campground where I pull in and take care of some business with the available pit toilet. Better than a cat hole and I've dug enough of those since I've been out On the Road. The rest of the climb starts switchbacking to and fro and I pass a number of bicycles to the top and just like Duff said, it turns immediately to dirt and looks smooth and freshly graded at the Cottonwood Summit, 12,126'. It definitely helps to stop and ask locals on road conditions in regards to back roads. They have led me right every time.
I hit the dirt and find a pull off where I take a break and observe the 'beuna vista' view and notice a number of people with bicycles setting up dispersed camping spots, portajohns everywhere and the Forest Service roping off and setting up cones for the upcoming race. What a race it would be climbing this road. I'm not sure if it's a race up the eastern side on the pavement or mountain bikes racing to the top on the western dirt side. I thought of pulling over and set up camp to watch the race but decide to move on and enjoy my own ride. The ride down the western slope was wonderful and easy, still no actual rain to dampen the spirits. I do pass a water truck spitting liquid on the road and mind myself to slow it down and keep in mind I'm on road tires and not nobbies for grip.
I find myself at Taylor Lake with signs pointing towards Gunnison where I was imagining myself for the evening. I notice on the map, Cumberland Pass. Heck we have Cumberland Gap back home so I might as well see Cumberland Pass. I make a left and head up a dirt road 10 miles which puts me in Tin Cup, CO with a wooden sign that says, 'Enjoy the roads, but don't ride like HELL.', or something like that. The town is full of side by sides and Gators, I pass on through and at the end of the dirt road town I see a sign for Tin Cup Cemetery. Seeing the primitive town, the cemetery should be just as primitive and worth a stop. I hit the left towards the site which instantly becomes primitive and find myself along with a handful of 4-wheelers at the parking spot for the cemetery.
I see a feller my age, Michael, and we introduce ourselves and tell each other what's up, he's out with family from CO and MO just out off roaring and decided to take a break. A friendly bunch, what I take as an uncle comes up and noticed I'm smoking a 'rollie' and offers me a real cigarette, I laugh and decline and he starts grilling me on the bike and Journey and is getting a big kick out of it, noticing the bailing wire on the bike and that I'm off roading on street tires.
They take off and a Land Rover pulls up and the guy jumps out and immediately makes a be-line for Bike. He's looking it over and making loops and can't get enough of her. We introduce ourselves, him going by John, and happens to be an avid rider on and off road. We talk for a good half hour and asks if I'm going up to Cumberland Pass on Bike. I say yes and his eyes got big, especially with the drizzle that just started and says I better think about and not take any chances. We walk the cemetery for a moment where he meets up with the 3 others in his group and we give departing salutations and I continue to walk the cemetery and it proves to be worth a stop. Sectioned off in Jewish Knoll, Protestant Knoll, Catholic Knoll and Boot Hill. The markers are modern ancient with a number dating back to the 1800's peppered with more modern markers. They have the sites marked off with branches and the head markers are wooden, some looking like they've been recently replaced and the older ones broken apart by time with illegible info. It was a worthy stop and after an hour it's time to summit Cumberland Pass.
The road to the pass is definitely primitive, a rock bed of a road, the sides proved the smoothest run. I pass a large bull moose on my left hanging around a small body of water and of course the batteries in the camera decide to finally peter out. I find my spares but it's too late, the moose wandered off back into the hills. The climb remains bouncy, rutted and rocky and the road starts switching back and forth violently to make the ascent. I practice what I noticed with sharp turning at the GS Summit in Arkansas and the observation proved right, I was switching back and forth, leaning Bike into the turns and myself leaning out, go figure it works. I guess these guys know what they're doing! HAHA. Great riders they were.
Where I can see that I'm approaching the summit, rain starts falling but the dirt road immediately sucks it in leaving me no difficulty other than the rocks and the precarious riding on the edge of the road, looking down, it's quite a fall if something like that would happen. I MADE the summit with all intact and it's barren other than the sign, I'm the only up there and it looks like what I would picture the surface of Mars, obsolete and rocky. There was a bit of grassy sides but looks like someone went to town with a grader. I take the obligatory picture and start my descent which turns out to be even more primitive than the way up, plus you have gravity working against you and the lines I picked were constantly changing as the rocks just wouldn't stop poking out every which way but loose and the rain was picking up. I pass a number of side by sides, Gators and 4-wheels and 2 trucks, stuff made for off roading and here I was with them on a street bike with street tires and doing just fine! The 10 mile stretch placed me in Pitkin, CO, what looks to me a great little community, but with the rain still a fallin', I decide to keep on towards Gunnison way and come to the small town of Ohio City, CO, where I find a Forest sign on the right, professing a lake 7 miles down the dirt road. I hang a right and venture through a few houses and the road goes butt, not just dirt, but back to jutting rocks. I pass what I take as old gold mining establishment which are in disarray and old, worthy of pix in the morning. Still no lake at 7 miles, I pass a spot where it looks like a number of dispersed campsite where I pull in and loop around and tuck in under trees along with massive heaps of cow patties, fresh ones to boot. With the rain subsiding, I unpack the gear hoping the surplus dry bags did they're job for once as it wasn't a hard rain but steady. To my astonishment, all is dry as these things are notorious for doing the exact opposite of what a dry bags should do. But heck, I have $15 or $20 bucks wrapped up in the bags and they've been doing decent for the last 4 years.
I set up the rainfly minding the patties and the Sky turns blue and now there's just a bunch of happy clouds floating to and fro towards the east. With camp set up, journal updated and a nip or 2, it is now time to eat a cold can of Chef Boyardee with some crackers and then kick back as I stopped at 4pm and have the evening wide open. My plan for tomorrow is to hit Gunnison, get any provisions I may need, touch base with the folks and travel another day of small distance and see if I can put off fueling up.
Anything is possible and I hope the Sky stays clear and inviting, it's too cold to get in the stream I hear just behind camp and I guess I may just BE. As I have been doing. The open range cattle bellowing back and forth in the valley made a good sound to sleep to.
Cheers to all and till next time… Out.
-----
Yesterday evening in Gunnison NF, after catching up with the Journal and with about 2 hours of daylight left, I felt it was time to at least pull out one of the 2 honking large paperbacks I picked up for a couple bucks at the MOA rally. I opted for Tom Clancy's, Against All Enemies. I actually got pretty absorbed in the read and before I called it a night I had half the book read. In the meantime, the temperature was rapidly dropping and got pretty dang cold. The reading helped my eyes get heavy and fell asleep in the longjohns, heavy socks, blanket and bag. I awoke before daylight from a chill and noted it was just after 5am. What to do, so I decided to wrap back up head to toe in the bag and pick up where I left the book. I read till about 8am and decided it was time to pack because it was going to be a good couple of hours before it warms up any.
I got the gear packed up just in time to witness the mass migration of the cattle back down the road, mimicking their bellow, they would pause and look straight at me for a good 30 seconds and start the walk, I would bellow again which totally makes them stop in their tracks and give me the stare again, makes me laugh and I waved them on and turned the motor over to start the day. I did try to approach a resting herd last night but they were timid and immediately got up and walked off. Sorry for the disruption my fellow creatures! On the way out the 7 mile Forest Road, there were my friends the cows standing in the road. I have to say, open range cattle at least don't dart in front of you on the roads, they're hesitant, but they get out of your way and stay out of your way. Unlike deer who dart across the road just in front of you and then change their minds and do a second dart back across the road. I haven't seen a deer in a good number of days, last one, a fawn in downtown Estes Park thinking of crossing but remained timid and stayed on the curb.
On the Forest Road, I stopped and took a few pix of the abandoned structures along the creek that I took as more decayed gold mining buildings, falling in on themselves or at wicked angles on the way to collapsing.
20 miles to Gunnison with a welcoming clear Sky and with the hoodie and longjohns I kept on underneath the leather, it was a brisk ride to say the least. I did eat a couple of poptarts after rising but I stopped at Ronald's House and got a coffee and yogurt to balance my very well balanced diet, ha. A woman asked a dude on a bike about the festivities in town which he pointed downtown and said you couldn't miss it. When he came out chomping on a biskit, I asked what was up and he told me a big to do bicycle race was coming through town with notable riders from the US and Europe. I may just hang around here for a bit and see what's up, not planning on any fuel and wanting to witness the Black Canyon of Gunnison NP just west of town.
Desert Dave gave me the heads up on a few hot springs in the area and there happens to be a free one in Rico, CO, which I may hit tomorrow and being in an NF, another free spot to squat. He also told me the bad news of his friend Andy passing from cancer, I'm thinking it may be a guy I met at an RA rally in WV maybe 3 years back. That's passing #3 for me since I've left, I hate to hear such things but so it goes in the way of life. Goes to show you, that's the one reason why you do what you can while you can, because you never know when the unfortunate will creep your way. My condolences to all.
So here I am, sitting in yet another city park that has electricity to charge the comp and at times I'm able to pic up a bit of wi-fi to keep yall up to date and I hope intrigued. I've noticed a bunch of college kids from Western State Colorado University heading downtown to the festivities which I'll head in that direction when I feel like it. No real distance today and NF's all over the area.
No comments:
Post a Comment