Posted by hogryder on August 26, 1999 at 09:03:51:
Here's the story of the best bike trip I ever took. It's a long story and I'm not a professional writer so if you don't like long stories written by amateurs, quit now. I hope someone enjoys it.
P.S. If you get far enough into the story, you'll see one of the reasons I dislike road whales (motorhomes).
Day one:
Left home (Three Forks, Montana) loaded with camping gear on my new 1987 Suzuki Savage LS650, less than 1000 miles on it so far. I haven’t toured on this bike yet and I’m ready to try it. I put a cruiser style windshield on it last week to help with the bugs and all my gear is tied down behind me with a million bungee cords. You can never have too many bungee cords. No saddle bags, no luggage rack, just everything I think I’ll need tied down, up and sideways with bungee cords to the little passenger seat and the tiny stock sissy bar. The sleeping bag my father gave me 20 years ago is right behind my seat so I can use it for a backrest and my two man dome tent on top of it. A short 20 miles on interstate 90 and I turn south toward the Gallatin Canyon, 70 miles of familiar and well loved twists, turns, and beautiful scenery ending at West Yellowstone. It’s the height of the tourist season so I turn right into Idaho instead of going through Yellowstone Park. I cruise past the west side of the Grand Teton Mountains, a view most tourists don’t ever see and wind through the little towns and forests of Idaho, crossing back into Wyoming late in the afternoon. A forest service campground outside of Afton, Wyoming looks good so I make a quick stop at a convenience store for soda and junk food then settle in for the night. Not a lot of distance covered this first day, but I’m in no hurry. The mountain is calm and cool and a sense of peace starts to come over me. Thoughts of my job and wondering what they’re going to do without me begin to fade into a distant corner of my mind. I’m on vacation.
Day two:
I wake up with an aching back; the air mattress I’ve used for the last three years has gone flat. I dig out my repair kit, blow it up again and start hunting leaks. Twenty minutes and three patches later I’m ready to start my day. Some beef jerky, a granola bar, and the last soda (kept cold in the stream behind my campsite) for breakfast, everything folded up, stored and packed and I’m on the road again. South through Montpelier, past Bear Lake and into southwestern Wyoming. One more stop for cheap fuel (low state gas tax) in Green River and I head for the beautiful Flaming Gorge Reservoir. Twenty minutes spent at a rest stop just past the reservoir are time well spent. I’m in the Uinta Mountains of Utah and the view is incredible. The ride down the mountain into Vernal includes more switchbacks than I have fingers and signs describing the rock formations I’m passing from the different geological eras, Mesozoic, Cenozoic, Exxon-zoic (must be oil in that one), etc. It’s a slow ride and I’m looking at everything except the line of cars behind me, drivers cursing the gawking tourist. Fast food lunch and more fuel in Vernal and I turn east into Colorado. The Dinosaur National Monument is just ahead and I want to see it today. The Monument is an active fossil dig and is great. They’ve enclosed part of the dig and left some really big fossils in the rock matrix for everyone to see. Much better than looking at them in glass cases, which they also have. One leg bone in a case is taller than I am. Two hours spent there and I’m ready to find a camp for the night. A little commercial campground just outside of Dinosaur, Colorado is home for the night. No showers here and I’m beginning to get a little gamey.
Day Three:
Air mattress is flat again! Into the dumpster by the campground office it goes! Pack everything back on the Savage, biscuits and sausage gravy at a little café in town, and I’m on the road again. South through Rangley, over Douglas Pass and on toward Grand Junction. I stay on the back road parallel to Interstate70 and take the turn off to the Colorado National Monument. It’s a short but pleasant ride through the Monument and I see at least two nice campgrounds to try out the next time I pass this way, one inside the Monument and one outside. Another fast food lunch, a new air mattress from K-Mart, and I turn onto highway 50. Very large, rain-filled black clouds and the wrinkled nose of the sales clerk at the Mini-Mart persuade me to find a cheap motel room in Montrose. A long hot shower and a quick look out the window convince me to have dinner catered by Pizza Hut. I really need to get some good rain gear one of these days; the cheap plastic stuff just doesn’t cut it. The TV weatherman says it will clear up late tonight and be dry for the rest of the week, hope he knows what he’s talking about.
Day four:
So far the weatherman is right, sunny and warm. My backbone appreciated the soft mattress last night and the clerk at Mini-Mart is a lot friendlier this morning. It’s the same clerk; doesn’t she ever go home? I guess two showers in 12 hours after three days without helps in that area. On the road again with a smile on my face and dry socks on my feet, heading south on highway 550. I stop for a late breakfast in the True Grit Café in Ridgeway, Colorado. This is where the movie “True Grit” was filmed and I’m a big John Wayne fan. Lots of photos, posters, and other memorabilia on the walls. I love it. At the base of the mountains lies the town of Ouray, my main destination for this trip. Ouray is called the “Switzerland of America” by someone trying to promote tourism. At least they spent money to put it on a billboard at the edge of town. I can’t judge, having never seen the Swiss Alps but having three 14,000-foot peaks visible from main street is impressive enough for me. I claimed a campsite in the forest service campground just outside of (and 500 feet above) town. The campground has a viewing area where you can see the whole town, a great view day or night. No showers, running water, electricity, etc at this campground but the public swimming pool on the south edge of town provides bathing facilities as well as a relaxing swim at the end of the day. It’s still early after I set up my camp so I headed into town to play tourist and talk to some of the locals. Most of my time was spent in the rock shops but I did look at (and purchase) some sand paintings in little bottles. One for me and more as gifts for friends. Luckily the store provided packing and shipping for only $5.00 so I didn’t have to try to preserve them in my load. They even included items I purchased at other shops at no extra charge. Dinner was Fettuccini Alfredo (overpriced but good) followed by delicious fudge and ice cream from the local candy store. Two doors down from the candy store was a theater presenting the “San Juan Odyssey, a slide show of the San Juan Mountains created by the mayor of Ouray, Bill Fries and his sons. Mr. Fries narrates the presentation that consists of images projected from 15 cameras onto three screens. The images fade one into another showing the area changing from season to season with shots taken from the same location at the same angle at different times of the year. Some of Mr. Fries music is in the background, performed by the local orchestra. Not band; orchestra. And they’re good. Did I mention that his honor the mayor has another career? Some of you may recognize the name C.W. McCall? Or a few of his songs; Convoy (most popular but not his best), Black Bear Road, Wolf Creek Pass, Riverside Slide, Crispy Critters, Columbine, The Little Brown Sparrow & Me, etc. The show was great, well worth the price of admission and it was fun meeting someone whose music I had enjoyed for years. I highly recommend it. A few beers in a local tavern and I was ready to head for my tent. All in all I would rate this day as almost perfect.
Day five:
My inquires yesterday convinced me that the only way to see the countryside was by dirt bike or Jeep, both of which were available for rent. Guided Jeep tours were also available but I decided to strike out on my own; I rented a dirt bike with a large fuel tank and strapped my spare fuel bottles on for emergencies. The rental place checked to make sure I had a helmet (which I took back to my tent), provided maps, took my money, and wished me good luck. The rest of the day was narrow roads carved out of solid rock, trails through high mountain meadows full of wild flowers, and the joy of discovery. There really is a “Black Bear Road” and there is a sign at the bottom saying, “You don’t have to be crazy to drive this road but it helps.” I can’t adequately describe the scenery, it must be experienced. I know I want to come back here, as frequently as possible. After burning three tanks of gas and using my emergency bottles twice I pointed my trusty steed downhill and headed for home. Too dirty to go to a restaurant and too tired to go get clean, I heat & eat a can of chili over my campfire and hit the sleeping bag. Today was a perfect day, no doubt about it.
Day six:
I hurt! I hurt in places where I didn’t even know I had places! It’s been a loooong time since I spent a day on a dirt bike. After much moaning, groaning, and putting down a minor rebellion of my thigh muscles, I head into town. I don’t care if I’m dirty and smelly; I’m going to get some breakfast. Great food and a very nice waitress, who pretended not to notice my odor, but a bit overpriced. Seems to be a trend around here, good stuff but costly. I strap my brand new two-gallon gas can on the back of the bike, fill it and the tank, and I’m off to the mountains again. My muscles soon loosen up and I’m again having the time of my life. I wonder if I can find a job here? I’ve got my trusty little camera but I know the shots I’ve taken can’t begin to capture the beauty and grandeur around me. I just hope they can serve to spark more vivid memories of what I’ve experienced in these mountains. Only one trip into civilization for gas today thanks to the new gas can. As the sun begins to get low I point my smiling, sunburned face down the mountain once more. I’m tired but tonight I stop by my camp for some clean clothes and head for the pool. A hot shower, a long soak in the hot pool (I only fell asleep once) a quick swim, another shower, and I’m ready for dinner. Steak tonight; cooked to perfection (screams when you stick it with the fork), then back to my little tent. Another perfect day. I just may have died and gone to heaven.
Day seven:
Not quite as many moans and groans today, but almost. Today I must find a more waterproof sunscreen, the face in my mirror looks like a tomato. I have to have the dirt bike back by 7:00 this morning so I have to hustle. While I’m at the rental place, there’s another adventurous soul putting down his hard-earned cash for a few hours in paradise so I give him my new gas can and a couple of bungee cords, telling him he’ll need it and wishing him as good a day as I’ve been having. It turns out he’s in town for a weekend BMW rally that starts tomorrow (Saturday) at the KOA campground just north of town and he invites me to join him for the dinner and entertainment Saturday night. I accept and we agree to meet at a local tavern just down the street tomorrow afternoon. He heads for the mountains and I climb on my trusty Savage, which has been waiting patiently behind the rental place while I dallied with its off-road cousin. Today will be a leisurely trip through the mountains on paved roads. I’ll make the loop through Ridgeway, Telluride, Cortez, Durango, and back to Ouray, should be home by dark. The day proceeds with mountain vistas only slightly less spectacular than the last two days. Little abandoned mine workings and mills, towns and camps. High mountain meadows, 11,000-foot passes, and cool clear air. For lunch I pulled down a dirt road about a mile and parked in a meadow full of wild flowers to consume my jerky, granola bar and soda. Sitting on a boulder, feeding granola to a friendly chipmunk, I hear something moving through the trees just out of sight. A glimpse of a nose, some branches moving, then I see them; a herd of elk moving around the meadow. As I sit quietly they slowly move out into the other end of the meadow and begin to graze. The big bull keeps between the cows and me watching me the whole time. After about 20 minutes of watching each other, I get up and walk toward the Savage. The cows spook back into the trees followed by the bull. I can tell they didn’t go far and will continue to graze as soon as I’m gone. Durango is a great town. I walk around and check out some of the tourist attractions. The Silverton Train looks like fun; I’ll try to make time for it this trip. Too much time spent here, so it looks like I’ll be late getting back to camp. Good thing I brought my leather jacket, gloves, and helmet today; it gets cold after dark at this elevation. Barely make it to Silverton before the last gas station closes at ten o’clock. Dinner and a couple of cups of hot coffee and I’m ready to head over the mountain to Ouray. It’s really cold tonight, I swear there’s frost on the grass on Red Mountain Pass. After the 90-degree temperatures this afternoon in Durango it’s a real shock to my system. Highway 550 is deserted this time of night; I haven’t passed a car since leaving Silverton. Slow going too. Narrow road; rock wall on one side and a sheer cliff on the other. No guardrail or reflector posts. What the??? OH SHIT!!! STOP-STOP-STOP!!!! LIGHT’S OUT!!! STAY AWAY FROM THE CLIFF!!! DON’T HIT THE WALL!!!
I just hit a deer. My headlight is out and I don’t know where I am on the road. Am I near the cliff? Am I by the wall? Wait until my eyes adjust to the dark. I’m two feet from the rock wall, I can see it in the moonlight now. I lean the Savage up against the wall and go back to find the deer. There it is, lying in the road. I kick it gently, no response. Head’s twisted around. Her neck is broken. I drag her over to the cliff and push her off so no other poor slob will hit her. The headlight on the Savage is out, I can feel broken glass. I seem to remember the windshield pushing my face down onto the tank as I ducked down so she must have jumped just before I hit her and gone over the top. I was damn lucky. I could have dumped the bike and slid over the cliff, ridden over when I couldn’t see, or hit the wall and smashed myself up pretty badly. She could have fallen under my front wheel and flipped me up, over, and out. The last ten miles to my camp took about an hour in the dark and I came way too close to the cliff more than once. I wish they painted the centerline on this road more often. By the time I found my tent, my hands were cramped and I was shaking all over. If I could see my way, I’d go into town and get drunk. Sleep was a long time coming.
Day eight:
The headlight assembly is toast. The windshield is scratched but intact. No trip to Las Vegas this year, I think I used up all my luck last night. Motored into town for breakfast and checked out the phone book. The nearest Suzuki shop is in Montrose. An hour later the dealer in Montrose is on the phone to a shop in Denver. Of course he doesn’t have a headlight for the Savage in stock, he’s never sold one. The shop in Denver will put one on the bus and it will be in Montrose Monday morning. I don’t feel like riding today so I head back to do some chores; laundry, cleaning out the tent, etc. I nap, read a paperback, and generally goof off until 4:30 then head into town to meet my new friend on the Beemer. Three beers and several swapped stories of dirt biking later we’re heading to his camp at the KOA. My new “customized” headlight draws a number of inquires and I tell the tale of my close encounter with Bambi’s younger sister many times that night. Dinner wasn’t bad, barbecued chicken and all the fixin’s, and everyone keep buying me beer to lubricate my throat as I told my story. I gladly surrendered my driver’s license and keys to the owner of the KOA and prepared to party. The beer was cold, the company joyous, and the entertainment was superb. The main entertainment that evening was none other than the mayor in his C.W. McCall persona. I’m proud to say I was the only member of the audience who could remember all the words to “Crispy Critters”. I sang loudly, proudly, and without care. Everyone else wished I could carry a tune but they declared me an official Crispy Critter despite my voice. The rest of the night fades into a happy blur. This is the best party I have ever attended. In the years since I’ve attended all sorts of rallies, parties, and motorcycle events but that little rally in the mountains of Colorado was undoubtedly the best of them all.
Day nine:
The day begins with the thunderous roar of a BMW being started inside my left ear. Please, someone shoot me! Put me out of my misery! The burning sunlight stabs deep into my eyes as I crawl out from under a picnic table. Some cruel, vicious person is cooking sausage for the Sunday brunch. A kindly passing stranger takes pity on this shambling wreck of a man and gives me a cold beer. At that point my heart begins to beat. I may live. The only thing I manage to accomplish on this day is to pack up and move my camp to the KOA. The price per night is only a few dollars more and there’s running water, showers, and a hot tub. Most of the rally goers are gone by sunset and the rest are planning an early departure tomorrow so we say our good-byes.
Day ten:
I’m up early enough to wave farewell to the last of the Beemers leaving camp. A quick breakfast at the campground (good and much cheaper than anything in town) and I’m on my way to Montrose. The headlight’s here and it only takes a few minutes for the mechanic to install it. Enough time in the afternoon for a very pleasant loop through the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, up to Delta, and back through Montrose to Ouray. More playing tourist in town on a warm summer evening and back to camp. It’s nice having a headlight again.
Day eleven:
Time to see more countryside. Today I’ll take the eastern loop south out of Ouray to Durango, east over Wolf Creek Pass, north to Lake City, Montrose then back to Ouray. Six 10,000+ foot passes and I’ll cross the continental divide twice. What can I say? More high mountain pastures, cool winding mountain roads, rocky peaks reaching up to the sky, old mining camps, friendly locals, and way too many things to see and do. I stopped in Durango and bought a ticket on the Silverton Train for tomorrow. It winds up the Animas River from Durango to Silverton and back. There are no roads following this canyon and the only ways to see this area is by train or to hike in. I’ll take the train. By early afternoon I’m waiting behind a red pickup at the end of a long line of vehicles coming down off Wolf Creek Pass. The road is under construction and there’s about a 15 or 20 minute wait. A glance in the mirror shows a road whale (motor home) approaching. A longer look over my shoulder, he’s not slowing down! Start the engine quick and pull off! Just as the flagman is about to yell at me for pulling into their work area, CRASH! The road whale smacks into the red pickup. Of course the pickup hits the car ahead of it which hits the next car, etc. When everything stops moving there are 6 or 7 cars banged up and the front wheels of the road whale are sitting right where I was 30 seconds ago. The flagman uses his radio to call someone, I guess his boss, to call the police. The driver of the road whale totters out with his wife helping him. He looks about 150 years old, he’s wearing a hearing aid, using a cane, has glasses thicker than any I’ve ever seen, and his wife is helping hold him up. The wife is telling him, “You had a little accident”. Yeah, just a little accident. He almost turned me into a little red smear on his bumper. The rear license plate on the whale shows they’re from California. The front plate is now part of the red truck. I don’t wait for the cops. When the undamaged cars are led through the construction area, I go too. If I stick around I might be tempted to hit an old man. I try not to dwell on this near miss but I notice I’m looking in my mirrors more often for the next few hours. I don’t let it spoil my day and I’m soon enjoying myself again. Up over Spring Creek pass and down into Lakeside. Dinner is consumed at the “Al Packer Cannibal Bar & Café”. Al Packer was a trapper who was supposed to be guiding a bunch of people over the mountains in the 1800’s. They got stranded in this area in the winter and Al was the only one who walked out in the spring, apparently well fed. I didn’t try the “finger steaks”. It’s quite late by the time I get back to the KOA, for some reason I seem to be driving a lot slower after dark. As I look at the rows of road whales I wonder how many of them are owned by 150-year-old men with bad legs.
Day twelve:
My train leaves Durango just after nine in the morning so I’m up early, grab a quick shower and breakfast. For three bucks you get sausage, eggs, and all the pancakes you can eat at the grill behind the campground store. Then I’m on my way through town and up highway 550 once again. It’s chilly this early but the scenery is still spectacular, even though I’ve been over this road several times in the last week; I’m still impressed. Down the mountain, past Silverton, and into Durango. The trip up the Animus Canyon to Silverton lives up to the advertising. The views are as good as any I saw on that dirt bike and the trip was a whole lot easier on my backside. It’s also kind of a kick to ride in a 100-year old train pulled by a coal burning locomotive. No speed records set today and that’s just fine. Silverton is an old mining town now supported mostly by tourism. Lots of little gift shops and overpriced junk food, not much worth talking about. The shops in Ouray have everything you can get here and more. The trip back down to Durango was as good as the trip up. The remainder of the afternoon I spend looking around Durango. This isn’t just a little tourist trap, it’s a nice small town set in the desert at the base of the mountains. A leisurely ride back over the mountains to Ouray (It’s still an impressive ride), one last dinner at the True Grit Café in Ridgeway, and some chores before bedtime, laundry and general clean up. Tonight is my last night here; tomorrow I’m back on the road again.
Day Thirteen:
Up early, packed up, breakfast eaten, and ready to go by 8:00. North to Montrose, east over Monarch Pass (11,312 feet) to Salida, and north to Leadville. I pass just east of Mount Elbert, the highest peak in Colorado, 14,433 feet above sea level. North to Interstate 70 then east again. I take the back road over Loveland Pass around the Eisenhower Tunnel and keep going east to Idaho Springs, just short of Denver. I gas up once more and head south toward Mount Evans. Another full day of winding mountain roads, fresh air, mountain meadows full of wildflowers, and sunshine. It’s almost dark as I pull into the Forest Service campground. There’s a little bar/café just across the road and I go there for dinner after my tent is set up. Good food and nice people. One of the locals tells me the road up Mount Evans is being repaired and he doesn’t know if I’ll be able to get through. He hasn’t seen any signs saying the road was closed but he knows it was in really bad shape when the snow finally melted this year. Several beers and lots of good conversation later I walk back to my little tent for a good nights sleep. It’s pretty cold outside, normal for a clear night at this elevation. I’m the only one in the campground tonight.
Day Fourteen:
I don’t know if I’m coming back to this campsite tonight so I pack everything up before going up Mount Evans. The lower part has been repaired and I get up to the little alpine lake while it’s still early. I can look straight up and see the peak hundreds of feet above me. I can also see the repair crew working on the road to the peak and it looks bad. This road was just barely wide enough for two cars when it was new and it’s taken a lot of punishment from the weather since then. It’s about a 12% grade and the repair crew has torn out half the road on this part. The other half is full of holes where the asphalt has crumbled, been gouged out by ice and snow, and washed away by water. There’s no way a car could make it up this road but I think a 4-wheel drive truck could. There’s no flagman but I stop and talk to the guy in the dump truck. He says I can try the road if I want but just watch out for the other equipment. Make sure they see me and wave me through the area where they’re working. I was right about a car not being able to make it here. There’s also no way a truck could make it. The holes are too big, too deep, and too close together. The repair crew has to fill them with gravel before they can get in to do permanent repair. They haven’t done anything to the last mile or so of the road and I can tell no one has been up this road this year; at least not in anything with four wheels. It takes a long time but I manage to wind around all the holes and rocks, wade slowly through the water seeping out of the hillside and make it to the top. Along the way I pass through the middle of a herd of mountain goats, white and silky, grazing the thin grass on both sides of the road. They watch as I pass but aren’t afraid of me. If they could they would probably laugh at the stupid human riding up this goat path. There’s a parking area at the end of the road next to the remains of a building, an old hunting lodge that burned down years ago according to the guy in the bar last night. Next to the parking lot are some self contained outhouses, apparently put here so the tourons (cross between a tourist and a moron) don’t relieve themselves all over the mountain. The Savage is hot but made it up here without a cough or a gasp. That’s pretty good considering we’re at an elevation of approximately 14,000 feet and the air is thin. This is the highest paved road in the continental United States. There’s a winding path up to the peak so I set out on foot. I have to stop and rest half way up; there’s no air in this air! The top of the peak is all large boulders left here when the glacier melted. I can stand on one of them and look straight down to the lake just north of the peak. There’s still snow on the north face (this is August). The view is incredible. I can see Denver way off to the east and other high peaks on the south and west. There are a series of lakes south of me looking like crystal jewels sparkling in the sun. I’m on top of the world. All I want to do is sit here and look. It’s so quiet I can hear the goats moving through the rocks. I can hear the repair crew working on the road a couple of miles away. I glance at my watch and realize I’ve been sitting here for over an hour just looking and listening. When I get up I’m stiff from sitting so long on that rock. The hike down the path to the bike loosens me up and I’m ready to ride. A slow careful trip down the road brings me to the repair crew. They’re eating lunch so I stop to talk for a minute. They want to know if I made it to the top. They chuckle when I tell them about the view, they’ve all hiked up to the top and say it’s like that for everyone their first time on the mountain. They’re also interested in my Savage, wondering how a bike with so little ground clearance made it up that road. I tell them the secret is to go around the rocks and holes, not through them. A few minutes later I’m on my way. Back down past the little bar/café and into Idaho Springs then north. I make the loop up through Rocky Mountain National Park, great scenery but way too many people. The traffic is too thick for me to enjoy the trip. I can’t help but compare this with the memories of this morning on Mount Evans. None of the campgrounds appeal to me and most of them are already full of road whales so I head back toward Idaho Springs. It’s still early when I pull up to the same bar I ate in last night but I’m ready for dinner. While I’m eating, I start wondering what it would be like to see the sunset from the top of the mountain. Maybe the sunrise too. There’s no campground but who’s going to tell me I can’t stay up there? Sounds like a plan to me so I buy some munchies and soda to take with me. The repair crew has quit for the night but they filled the holes with gravel for about 100 yards this afternoon. Makes it a little easier to get to the top. The goats are on a different stretch of road but give me the same look as I pass. I park the Savage and take off everything I’m going to need for the night. It’s a lot harder climb with all this gear and I have to stop and rest several times. I’ve got about an hour before sunset so I get the tent set up on a big almost flat boulder and get the bed ready. I was right about the sunset, it’s gorgeous. It’s also cold up here after dark! The wind came up just before sunset, just a little breeze, but it’s a lot colder than it was at the campsite last night. My old sleeping bag isn’t as good as it used to be and I spend the night wearing most of my clothes, including my leather jacket, inside my sleeping bag. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.
Day Fifteen:
The sunrise makes up for the night. I thought sunset was nice but this is enough to make me forget all about the cold. I was awake early and watched the lights of Denver slowly fade into oblivion as sunrise approached. Then the sun peeked up and cast just the tops of the mountains in shades of gold. It was still dark in the valleys below. The sunlight slowly crept down until it set the lakes sparkling as if they were on fire. Golden fire. This was worth a cold night and more. It was as if I were the first thing the sun touched as it came up over the horizon. I soaked up the first untouched rays of the morning. After a few hours of watching and listening it was time to go. I reluctantly packed my gear and hiked down to my bike, only needing one rest stop on the trip down. My Savage isn’t alone! It’s in the middle of the goat herd! Maybe they figure anything that could climb up there was another goat. They move off slowly as I approach, still not afraid. Another slow wind down the mountain past the equipment. No crew today, its Saturday. The ride today is OK but nothing spectacular. As I wind my way up through Steamboat Springs and across northwestern Colorado all I can think about is this morning on the mountain. Everything seems too crowded and noisy now. I stop for the night in a campground in the Flaming Gorge Recreation Area north of Vernal, Utah. I’d go on to Green River and get a motel but my funds are running low. Besides, I’ll be home tomorrow night. Then I have to go to work on Monday. Bummer. The Gorge is nice but I’m still thinking about my night on Mount Evans. Need to sleep tonight, I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I’m in bed shortly after sunset.
Day Sixteen:
Up early and on the road. Breakfast in Green River, through Rock Springs and north. I only stop for gas until I get to Jackson Hole, Wyoming then I take time for a late lunch. Then it’s up through Teton National Park and into Yellowstone. The view of the Tetons is better on this side but there are a lot more people and traffic is slow. It gets even slower in Yellowstone and a ride that should be enjoyable is just frustrating as I watch the sun begin to slide down into the west. Trying to stay alive while dodging road whales is a major part of my day. These narrow roads seem to confuse the whale operators making them want to use both lanes at the same time. After a few hours of this I’m wishing I had a harpoon! I was going to stop for dinner in West Yellowstone but it’s almost dark when I get there and I don’t want to waste the light. The ride down the Gallatin Canyon in the dark is slow. The winding riverside road that is so much fun in the daytime is a different story at night. Clouds of insects swarm over the warm road splattering my glasses and I’m constantly watching for wildlife. There’s plenty of it too; raccoons, rabbits, and other critters that scurried out of my headlight beam before I got a good look at them. No deer tonight, for which I am eternally grateful. I’ve been down that road already this trip. It’s almost midnight as I pull into town. The last two days of this trip haven’t been the greatest but that may be because I was looking at the end of my vacation and the end of a really great trip. The morning on Mount Evans was definitely the high point of the last two weeks and after that anything would be a disappointment. Even if I never take another trip like this again, I’ve got my memories of this one and they will last a lifetime.