Wow. Just........wow.

Pete and repeat, I'll be updating the exciting details tomorrow when my eyes aren't burning, but I'm in Aspen now. Listening to the river outside my window. Which calls me to sleep. Now.

6-3 update: Sleep still stalks me, but it's been a couple of days, and if I don't get it caught up now, it ain't gonna happen! Soo...


Tuesday morning, I woke up with the barest hint of dawn coming through the window. I didn't really want to get up, and when I finally could see the face of the clock on the wall, I saw it was 5:15 a.m. I laid there a few more minutes before Brock came out to start the coffee and Sharon joined in a few. We watched the news, drank some coffee, and I slowly started to pack. I had an ambitious schedule for the day and knew I needed to get on the road at a decent hour. Brock left for work a little before 7 (and got a hug!) and Sharon cooked me up a nice and strong mocha latte to go with some peanut butter toast as my morning fuel.

I finally rolled out of there right around 8 a.m. with bright blue skies (see the pic in the previous post...that was actually my morning departure). Pueblo is just over 100 miles south of Denver, and I was riding about 60 miles north of Denver before cutting cross country to head over to Estes Park. Even though it was a lot of miles, the roads were familiar, and the distance seemed like nothing. I stopped in Loveland to fill up before going through my canyon, and the bike was still not liking the air. Once it gets revved up above 3k rpm, it seems to even out, but before that, it's jumping like a three legged horse gallops.

The trip from Loveland to Estes Park goes through the Big Thompson Canyon, which is roughly 20 miles of a narrow, winding, twisting road that traces along the path of the Big Thompson River. Whenever we've gone out to Estes Park for vacation, I typically am the family driver, and I love going through the Big Thompson. I know the curves and camber of the canyon, and have long thought about getting to go through it on two wheels instead of four. Even though my plans changed for the trip to the point of canceling my overnight stay in Estes, I still had to make that trip up there, so I could ride the canyon.

There's always a danger of getting caught behind some driver who doesn't know how to handle curves, like say, a Florida native, and this time I had to deal with some slow traffic until the first passing zone, but it wasn't long to wait. I zipped past the pokeys, and had another clear run for a couple of miles before the next batch was in front of me. It wasn't half a mile before the next passing zone opened up, and I proceeded on my way again, unimpeded. A third time, I was behind a car, but literally, within seconds of catching up with him, the next passing lane opened up, and I had a clear ride until just before the canyon opened up to reveal Estes Park below, flanked by Longs Peak and Mt. Meeker to the left, Hallet's Peak and Flattop in the center, and the Twin Owls on the right, all of whom are old friends. It was 11:30 when I went past the bank in town and swung up to the bypass which raises up over town before swinging back through the touristy section.

My primary destination in Estes was Ed's Cantina for lunch, and it did not disappoint. The altitude was taking a bit of a toll, though, and my appetite could not do full justice to the fish tacos, with cilantro cole slaw, black beans and rice, but I made a pretty good effort. I finally broke down and bought a map, since I wasn't sure the roads I would be needing to get to Aspen that night. Before leaving, I strolled up the river to where the old Park Theatre Mall had been, seeing construction underway to replace the structure which burned down in October. I was sad to see a notice that my favorite pottery shop was dealt a death blow by the fire and would not be reopening.

Before leaving town, I got a posterity shot of the bike in front of Ed's and then headed out on Highway 7, which is a Scenic Byway, wrapping south alongside Long's and Meeker. From there, I jumped onto 72, heading through Nederland and then down to Central City and BlackHawk (major gambling towns), and taking a little jog on Highway 6 to get onto I-70 east. That stretch from Estes Park to I-70 took about and hour and a half to ride, going through ups, downs, twists, turns, sweeps and bends, and I managed to get 64 mpg through there. Not too shabby!


While most interstates are not the scenic routes to go, I-70 is an exception to the rule! The traffic was very manageable, and the views were incredible. I had to ride about 45 miles on 70 before getting off on 91, which would take me to 82, which eventually goes through downtown Aspen. Going up the grade on 70 towards the Eisenhower Tunnel, I was cranking along at about 55 mph with the bike in 6th gear and the throttle wide open. Once on the downward side, things picked up, but I was feeling those 500 cc's working hard on the way up. When the turnoff for 91 came, I followed a pickup truck through some fairly isolated terrain, passing frozen lakes, iced over gullies and barren trees. I stopped in Leadville and put on a few extra layers, since the best was yet to come!

Winding south from there, the turnoff for Highway 82 finally appeared on the right. There was a house near that t-intersection, with a little kid standing in the driveway. He waved at the biker lady when she went by and got a big wave in return :) I pulled over to take a couple of shots of Twin Lakes (liking the whole panoramic function on my camera), and when I headed out from there, never had another vehicle in front of me as I made my way up the pass.

Some lady must have her hair all a mess, because there were hairpins all on the road. Crunchy kept plugging away, curve after curve, after switchback, and finally crested the top of Independence Pass. I pulled over, next to a group of five Harleys at the top, and got the picture with the sign, surrounded by piles of snow. I took their group picture, and talked a bit with them while heading back over to the bikes before heading down. There were five of them...four of them were probably in their 40s and 50s, and most had rather, um, comfortable waistlines. The fifth rider? He looked to be in his 30s, and I must say, his leathers fit him very well. Tall, helmeted and handsome. Pitty, patty, pitty, pat! Sigh.

The bike didn't really want to start up there, but I finally got him going, lurching into 2nd gear before riding the roller coaster down the hill. Other than the Excursion from Louisiana who probably had problems driving in straight lines, much less curvy ones, it was a clear shot into town. The Harley guys followed, and Mr. Tall Dark was right behind me all the way to town. Once I rode through town and headed up Castle Creek road, though, I lost them, since they were staying in town, and I was just a little outside of town, near the Conundrum Creek trailhead.

My hostess for the next couple of nights, Adair, was in town for a book signing, and had told me to look for the bookstore on Main Street, because she'd probably still be there when I arrived. I looked for the store, but missed it, so I went on to the house. It was 6:15 when I got here, and since I didn't have any cell signal at the house, I unloaded my saddle bags and headed back into town to try to meet up. While I was riding back to town, Adair passed me on her way back to the house in a slight comedy of errors. At the bottom of the hill, I had a signal and called her, so she turned around and met me in the parking lot of the hospital where I'd pulled over.

Back up the mountain to the house we went, where I was very thankful to be off the bike after nearly 9 hours and approximately 450 miles of riding. It was definitely a wow day, though, from the unjammed traffic in Denver, to the clean canyon run, to the non raining weather, to the snow caps and ice fields, and lovely Aspen home. Total wow.