I’ve been putting this off for quite some time for several reasons. First, I was waiting for my brother to post his report because I told him I would. He posted a couple of days ago so I don’t have to wait anymore. Second, once I post this report of the last day of the trip it will really be over and I’m kind of sad about that. It has been great fun telling the tale and sharing it with all those who have expressed an interest. And last, not that much happened and it’s kind of anticlimactic.
I looked at my almost 400 pictures and discovered I did not take one picture of this day’s travel. Not one! Luckily Carlton did so I at least have some to include.
As usual the day started with the hunt for caffeine. That’s the problem with staying in cheap hotels; besides the fact that they’re not really cheap. They either don’t have coffee at all or they don’t have coffee worth drinking. Lucky for us there was a McDonald’s just down the street and over the last couple of years they have made a concerted effort to supply a very good cup of coffee. I found it to be one of the best on the market and considering the price that some places charge it is one of the best values also.
We walked to McDonald’s and had a cup of coffee and a bite to eat then headed back to the room to load up. Only one of the other motorcycle riders was up and about. He was headed north into the teeth of the cold front that had snuck in overnight and not having the right gear, he was bundle up in everything he brought. Carlton gave him some electrical tape so he could seal off the bottoms of his pants and he headed out. I didn’t make notes but I think he had just bought the bike from some rich dude in Denver with too many toys and was headed back to Missoula. I hope he made it alright; I wouldn’t want to be riding that bike with those forward controls into that kind of weather.
Not long after that we were on the road ourselves. I thought we could run out from under the cold front but I was taking chances like I had on Thursday. I dressed for the current conditions, not what I thought it might be down the road the bit.
Carlton said I would scare small children but I figured with the chin bar down they wouldn’t notice too much.
We headed south on I25 and had the road pretty much to ourselves. If I had been alone, I probably would have pushed the speed limit a little but Carlton was trying to maximize his range we settled in around 80mph and I locked the throttle down in a loose trail formation.
At the first gas stop we debated shedding some gear the temps had climbed from the mid 40s to the mid 50s but at 80mph that’s still pretty chilly so we stayed geared up. Carlton handed me his camera so I could take his picture but I couldn’t find the zoom out button.
I later found out he had wanted a picture of himself in his cold weather gear so I found this one in the reflection of my sunglasses in the first picture above:
Sorry I can’t clean it up any better; I don’t have all the high dollar software the use on CSI.
After that it was a couple of hundred more miles of this:
Then we got to Denver. Temps were finally in the 70s. We had outrun the cold front and it was a beautiful day. We stripped some gear, got some gas, ate a sandwich and jumped back on the road. Traffic in Denver was mercifully light, that means it flowed through, if not at the posted speed, at least without stopping…much.
Once through Denver it was a just a short 45 minutes home but we couldn’t quite make it without that last fuel stop. Actually we probably could have but Carlton was headed out in the morning and he was already running on fumes so we went ahead and topped off on the way in. He did anyway. I still had half a tank (almost 3 gallons) which is enough to get me back and forth to work (30 miles round trip) for a week.
With the sun low in the western sky, we parked our bikes and settled in for the evening.
We sat at the computer and laughed and reminisced as we reviewed the well over 800 pictures we had taken. We were pleasantly surprised at how good a lot of the pictures were and we relived the trip in our minds as we reviewed the roads we had traveled. We were again awestruck at the memory of the beauty we had seen and disappointed in our inability to capture the tenth part of it on film (I guess that should be “as pixels” now but somehow it looses something when phrased that way.)
The next Morning Carlton left early as he had a long day in front of him. It’s over 700 miles to Garland from my house and the only fun part is over Raton Pass and even that is just OK. I have made the trip numerous times myself and although I was sad my trip was over I didn’t envy Carlton the last leg of his.
My youngest brother, Mark, recently gave me a copy of a book by Louis L’amour that is unique in that it is not a western. It is a historical novel called “The Walking Drum”, set in the twelfth century, covering a span from Western Europe to Western Asia and I highly recommend it.
There is a People described in the book called the Petchenegs who were pre-Mongol invaders from the steppes of Asia (they were real. I looked it up.) They had a toast in their language, Yol bolsun, which meant – Let there be a road – a toast I now embrace with gusto and with hope that you will join me!
YOL BOLSUN!
I looked at my almost 400 pictures and discovered I did not take one picture of this day’s travel. Not one! Luckily Carlton did so I at least have some to include.
As usual the day started with the hunt for caffeine. That’s the problem with staying in cheap hotels; besides the fact that they’re not really cheap. They either don’t have coffee at all or they don’t have coffee worth drinking. Lucky for us there was a McDonald’s just down the street and over the last couple of years they have made a concerted effort to supply a very good cup of coffee. I found it to be one of the best on the market and considering the price that some places charge it is one of the best values also.
We walked to McDonald’s and had a cup of coffee and a bite to eat then headed back to the room to load up. Only one of the other motorcycle riders was up and about. He was headed north into the teeth of the cold front that had snuck in overnight and not having the right gear, he was bundle up in everything he brought. Carlton gave him some electrical tape so he could seal off the bottoms of his pants and he headed out. I didn’t make notes but I think he had just bought the bike from some rich dude in Denver with too many toys and was headed back to Missoula. I hope he made it alright; I wouldn’t want to be riding that bike with those forward controls into that kind of weather.
Not long after that we were on the road ourselves. I thought we could run out from under the cold front but I was taking chances like I had on Thursday. I dressed for the current conditions, not what I thought it might be down the road the bit.
Carlton said I would scare small children but I figured with the chin bar down they wouldn’t notice too much.
We headed south on I25 and had the road pretty much to ourselves. If I had been alone, I probably would have pushed the speed limit a little but Carlton was trying to maximize his range we settled in around 80mph and I locked the throttle down in a loose trail formation.
At the first gas stop we debated shedding some gear the temps had climbed from the mid 40s to the mid 50s but at 80mph that’s still pretty chilly so we stayed geared up. Carlton handed me his camera so I could take his picture but I couldn’t find the zoom out button.
I later found out he had wanted a picture of himself in his cold weather gear so I found this one in the reflection of my sunglasses in the first picture above:
Sorry I can’t clean it up any better; I don’t have all the high dollar software the use on CSI.After that it was a couple of hundred more miles of this:
Then we got to Denver. Temps were finally in the 70s. We had outrun the cold front and it was a beautiful day. We stripped some gear, got some gas, ate a sandwich and jumped back on the road. Traffic in Denver was mercifully light, that means it flowed through, if not at the posted speed, at least without stopping…much.
Once through Denver it was a just a short 45 minutes home but we couldn’t quite make it without that last fuel stop. Actually we probably could have but Carlton was headed out in the morning and he was already running on fumes so we went ahead and topped off on the way in. He did anyway. I still had half a tank (almost 3 gallons) which is enough to get me back and forth to work (30 miles round trip) for a week.
With the sun low in the western sky, we parked our bikes and settled in for the evening.
We sat at the computer and laughed and reminisced as we reviewed the well over 800 pictures we had taken. We were pleasantly surprised at how good a lot of the pictures were and we relived the trip in our minds as we reviewed the roads we had traveled. We were again awestruck at the memory of the beauty we had seen and disappointed in our inability to capture the tenth part of it on film (I guess that should be “as pixels” now but somehow it looses something when phrased that way.)
The next Morning Carlton left early as he had a long day in front of him. It’s over 700 miles to Garland from my house and the only fun part is over Raton Pass and even that is just OK. I have made the trip numerous times myself and although I was sad my trip was over I didn’t envy Carlton the last leg of his.
My youngest brother, Mark, recently gave me a copy of a book by Louis L’amour that is unique in that it is not a western. It is a historical novel called “The Walking Drum”, set in the twelfth century, covering a span from Western Europe to Western Asia and I highly recommend it.
There is a People described in the book called the Petchenegs who were pre-Mongol invaders from the steppes of Asia (they were real. I looked it up.) They had a toast in their language, Yol bolsun, which meant – Let there be a road – a toast I now embrace with gusto and with hope that you will join me!
YOL BOLSUN!
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