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Staging Point

At the last minute I invited myself along on a overnight motorcycle trip. Now, I know what you're thinking: That Jason is a such as ass inviting himself on someone else's ride. But, you need to understand, the ride had an open invite and I was just one of 5 other people who decided to partake of the invitation.

The plan was simple: leave Denver, ride out to Glenwood Springs, the long way, and return. The original (tentative) route was to take highway 285 out of Denver to Pine Junction, south to Woodland Park, west to Divide and south to Cripple Creek. After Cripple Creek we'd head down to Canon City and take highway 50 west and somehow make our way up to our final destination where we'd simmer our sore muscles in the hot springs for which the city is famous.

However, like all well made plans, this plan fell apart before the first kickstand was up. We were supposed to leave at 9:00am but didn't get on the road before 9:20am. Bob, a former racer turned MSF motorcycle instructor, met us at the meet point without his oil plug and therefore hemorrhaging oil everywhere. He had to run to the TFOG motorcycle shop and borrow a plug from the owner and meet up with us later.

Of those who went all the way, Bob, Elliot and I were the most experienced riders, Mike, his mother Deba, and Sydney were the riders with the least experience. I don't know how much experience Sydney had, but Mike and his mother only took the MSF course and started riding last year.

Bob's oil Porblem

About ten other riders decided to ride with us for a little while before turning around, some breaking of at Woodland Park and others splitting off in Cripple Creek. We had lunch at a casino in Cripple Creek (which annoyed me since we hadn't been on the road very long and it was barely noon when we stopped). I would have preferred to keep going until Canon City or even further, having a late lunch and minimizing our stops, but I was out voted.

After lunch we tried to find our way out of Cripple Creek and south, but each way ended up taking us along miles and miles of dirt roads. I don't know about you, but sportbikes and dirt roads don't mix very well in my opinion.

Cripple Creek isn't that large of a town and yet we seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time there, backtracking over our routes and stopping to check directions a gazillion times. Elliot had his directions on Google Maps out, but not the actual map and none of us had data connections. I have a map of Colorado on my bike, but nothing detailed enough to get us around and out of Cripple Creek in the direction we wanted to travel.

South of Leadville

In the end we re-traced our path to Divide, gassed up and took highway 24 west to Buena Vista. Highway 24 can be fun, but a large portion of it was newly oiled and as the lead rider at that time, I decided to take it slow lest our tires not stick as well as they should and one, or more, of us went down. We finally made it beyond the fresh oil section in time for a long straight, yet very scenic, jaunt across central Colorado.

North of Buena Vista we stopped at the intersection for highway 82 and geared up for a chilly climb over Independence Pass. At over 12,000ft above sea level, the pass is cold in the height of summer and even colder in the non-summer months. And it was the first time all day we saw even the tiniest hint of rain.

But it was beautiful. I wish I'd had the +GoPro running, but even though I hit the button it didn't start recording and I didn't know until I arrived home the next evening.

We stopped at the top for a quick picture with the sign, a wedding party waiting silently by for us to be on our way and then headed downhill into Aspen where we regrouped at the Shell station. While drying off and stretching our legs we were witness to a woman wearing a dark blue dress ride up to the gas pumps on a dirt bike. On the handlebars rested her (I'm told) Coach bag.

12,095 Ft Above Sea Level

From Aspen we headed to Glenwood Springs and then on to Silt, CO where our rooms were booked. You have to understand, the ride organizer reserved our rooms and didn't tell us we were staying in Silt. Hell, I didn't even know where Silt was before we arrived there. Our hotel was nice, though and the restaurant down the street was surprisingly good. Good at everything. Their food was fantastic, their drinks were friendly and their staff was nice. I couldn't have dreamed a better restaurant.

We woke the next morning to dreary drizzle and while we'd discussed leaving at 11am (or at checkout), one person in our group was antsy to get moving and get ahead of the rain.  So, before 10am we were out the door and heading east on I-70. East of Glenwood Springs we were witness to a State Trooper chasing down a motorcyclist who weaved in and out of traffic to avoid being pulled over. We believe the motorcyclist was able to lose the trooper from the simple fact that we never saw the trooper and the motorcyclist pulled over on the side of the road.

Only in Aspen

We pulled over onto the shoulder of I-70 when Bob's bike turned over it's 75,000th mile, so he could take a picture, and then again in Minturn, CO to await the rest of our group to catch up.

In Leadville we stopped from lunch at a recommended local gem, The Silver Dollar Saloon. However, it wasn't much of a gem. Their menu only had a handful of items, all of which were hamburgers or sandwiches. Elliot is gluten free and couldn't have anything available. When he asked if he could buy two hamburger patties in lieu of s hamburger or sandwich, they told him he could buy two burgers at eight dollars each. Sixteen dollars for two hamburger patties? He then asked if he could get food elsewhere and bring it in to eat with the rest of us, they told him "no."

Deb, her son and I ordered our food at the same time and mine didn't come when theirs came. After more than 30 minutes of waiting I told the waitress to cancel my order I was going somewhere else. Bob ordered his sandwich after I ordered mine and he didn't get his until after I'd left to find food elsewhere. As it turned out, my sandwich came at the same time, even after I cancelled the order.

Horses at the Saloon

We adjourned from Leadville and headed south to Buena Vista and highway 285 which would bring us back to Denver. Once again we found ourselves surrounded by beautiful landscape as we shot along the center of the valley. In Fairplay we stopped for gas before heading east once more. At the west end of Kenosha Pass it started raining on us and then it turned to hail. Hail! Our options were limited: either continue on and hope it cleared up quickly or turn around and had back the 20 miles or so to Fairplay. There were no avenues around the storm to take and no place to shelter anywhere.

And so we trudged on. Up the pass through an inch of hail on the ground and then over and down the other side where the hail came once more. At the first chance I had I pulled over at an abandoned building that had a covered walkway and made a headcount. Luckily we all made it through unscathed, but many stories of fishtailing abounded. Having ridden through hail before, I knew what to expect, but three of the six of us had been riding less than two years and the other two hadn't ridden through hail at all.

This trip made riding veterans of everyone.

From Grant, CO until Lakewood we rode in the rain, which sometimes came down as a drizzle and sometimes so hard the Force was our only ally.

Looking East From Fairplay, CO

At C-470 we stopped to say goodbye to each other and for the first time in all these miles we had a mechanical fail. For some reason my bike wouldn't start. Nothing. It was weird. It had just started thirty minutes prior without a problem, but now I wasn't starting at all. Just as I was resigning myself to calling a friend and glad that we were so close to home Bob suggested trying to push start me. So, there we were on the shoulder of a highway trying to push start my SV1000s.

I popped the clutch and the SV started without a problem. I rode it straight home, another thirty miles, or so.

As I mentioned before, we had a rough outline of where we wanted to go, but no one created a detailed travel itinerary, so, like all well made plans, we ended up scrapping them as soon as they became inconvenient.

More Pictures:

Vroom! Vroom!

Mike

Deb

Elliot

Bob

On A Steel Horse I Ride

Our Route

And, if you've made it this far, here's a video of highway 24 between Minturn and Leadvilled, CO. Normally this video would have been more fun to watch, but the rain settled in and I kept having to slow down to wait for the rest of the group to catch up.