July 12-13, 2008:

July's meeting was to be a special one. Not only were we gathered to consume food and drink, we were bringing new members into the fold of Turtledom. We again met at Cherry Creek State Park after work and were soon enjoying our gracious hosts' hospitality. As the sun set and the bats came out, we gathered around the fire and brought out the fire water. Proudly joining the ranks of Turtles around the globe, David and Kay performed admirably during the initiation, getting every last stinking question WRONG! However, truth and virtue prevailed in their hearts and we enjoyed the evening telling tales and lies.

The following moring, David was up first getting the breakfast fire and coffee-plus going. He queried innocently, "Did you make me a Tomato last night?" He countered my spewing coffee into the flames with, "I don't drink Tequila." I clarified his statement with, "You don't drink Tequila well." And with that, David "Killer Tomato" was born. Another great campout and meeting.

 June 18th:

At a previous meeting, one of our members, Kay, came up with the idea of having our next meeting outdoors. While we haven't been camping for over a decade (my camping bug was squashed thanks to 10 years of 'camping' with Uncle Sam), her idea turned into a reality this week. We met at Cherry Creek State Park and proceeded directly with the fun part of our meetings. David and Kay were the supreme host and hostess (as well as Goddess of BIG FIRE) serving up a killer dinner. Bellies full, we lounged around the camp fire until the full moon rose and it was time to hit the sack. We definitely need to do this again!

Day 1: Aurora, Colorado to Des Moines, Iowa (Total miles: 675)

Twenty five years ago, our marriage/honeymoon consisted of a $25 license, a $25 dinner (mostly beer), and a few hours in a $25 motel, before I went to the field for 90 days with my Infantry battalion. Over the years, we dreamed of the day that we could ride off into the sunset with nothing to run back home to. The day started with temps in the mid 40's as we headed north on I-76 towards the Nebraska border.  We started peeling off layers as the temperature reached 81 degrees and then negotiated the highway construction around Lincoln and Omaha. My wife commented that we must have taken a wrong turn because we must be in Wyoming; the wind was blowing us all over the road. By the time we reached Des Moines, we were both ready to get off the bike. We figured that this would be a good trip since for the first time EVER, we got a hotel room on the first try.

Day2: Des Moines to Hubbard, Ohio (Total Miles: 1398)

We started the day again before dawn with clear skies and continued on I-80. We really didn't want to Interstate it, but the destination was just as important as the journey on this trip. We wanted to spend as much time in New York City as possible. We were pleasntly suprised  that I-80 eastbound does not resemble the stretch across Wyoming. It is extremely scenic. The clouds started moving in and a cold wind started to blow in from the north. From Chicago (chicken in the car and the car won't go) to Cleveland, the temperature never got above 50 degrees. Then it started to drizzle and just west of Pennsylvania, we called it a day. We probably would need to get second jobs to pay for the tolls across that part of the country and made a mental note to take I-70 back to Colorado. The toll across Indiana alone was almost $10. Once again we scored a hotel room on our first try, even after losing 2 hours during the time change.

Day3: Hubbard, Ohio to Queens, New York (Total Miles: 1805)

The downpour started as we returned back to the hotel from dinner the night before and it was still raining as we loaded the bike in the cool dawn air. Pennsylvania was perhaps one of the most scenic states we have ever ridden in. The "Wilds' was just that. A dense, mountainous forest with sweeping turns was a most pleasureable ride. However, with temperatures hovering just above freezing, we were ever vigilant for ice on the numerous bridges in the area. We took a good 30 minute break at a rest stop to warm up after 200 miles of a rain/snow/sleet mix. We met a guy from an Erie GWRRA Chapter and had a nice conversation about the different places we have ridden to. Of particular interest, we learned that the elk population in Pennsylvania was decimated and in 1913, elk from the Rocky Mountains, were transplanted there. By the time we crossed into New Jersey, the rain was coming down in sheets. In fact, the rain was so blinding that we missed our planned exit and were headed for the George Washington bridge. Fortunately, the skies cleared just before the traffic began to get increasingly heavier. So we're in line waiting to pay the toll when I realize we're in the wrong lane, the EZ pay lane. Needless to say, with 10 million honking cages behind me, I accepted the "FAILED TO PAY" message and the flash of the camera with quiet resignation, and twisted the throttle for all I was worth. We plan on treating the ticket as a souvenier when we get it in the mail. Now back in my hometown, I quickly remembered the horror of New York traffic. Only that since I left NY before I could drive, I have never driven in it! So after quickly realizing that he who is fastest wins, the Garbage Wagon was transformed into the Urban Assault Wagon. Needless to say, we conquered the Big Apple.

Days 4-7: (Minimum driving, some subway, and mucho walking miles)

In short, I introduced my wife to my family and the wonders of the greatest city in the world. The sights, sounds, foods, and experience of New York was amazing. The best part was reuniting with my cousin whom I haven't seen for some 30 years. After spending the morning at the beach, he gave us a rock and roll infused tour of the city and the last night spent on the waterfront was magical. We witnessed the celebration of the 125 year history of the Brooklyn Bridge moving humanity across the East River.

Day 8: Queens, New York to (Jolly Old)London, Ohio (Total miles:2410)

We rode silently through the city, aware that our honeymoon was ending. We vowed to return to spend more time visiting with family and exploring the city. A quick jaunt through the Holland tunnel and we were heading for home. We made an unexpected detour through Maryland ("I don't need to look at the damn map") but were soon on track again enjoying the sunshine and warmth of the day. Once in West Virginia, the traffic thinned out considerably. We just seemed to eat miles and pulled into the first hotel we saw and again got a room.

Day 9: London, Ohio to Topeka, Kansas (Total miles: 3117)

Little did we realize the adventure this day would hold.  With early morning temps in the 40's, the miles rolled by effortlessly, and Indianapolis was like a ghost town. I was last there for the Bean Blossom Run in 1989.  About 100 miles east of St Louis, an wall cloud right out of the Weather Channel appeared. We were oblivious to the severe weather that had blanketed the region for the past few days. One rain drop led to another and by the time we reached the Mississippi River, it felt like we had ridden through it. The highway was flooded in places and there were several car wrecks littering the highway. We were accompanied by a rider on a V-Strom, and wave goodbye about 60 miles out of town when we stopped to fuel up and dry our glasses and faceshields. Then the sun came out and it got warm. Then it got downright hot. By Boonville, it was 93 degrees . It would stay hot and muggy the entire ride to Topeka. And as we checked into our final hotel room for the trip, the tornado warnings began.

Day 10: Memorial Day. Topeka, Kansas to Aurora, Colorado (Total trip miles: 3640)

Remembering the fallen on this day, freedom is not free.

We left the hotel as the rain began and steadily intensified as we rode eastward. The balmy 70 degrees at 5:30am dropped tp 50 degrees as we neared Ft Riley. I remembered as a ROTC cadet many years ago, during similar thunderstoms , I actually looked forward to the rain. Hidden by the anonymity of a sea of green ponchos and steelpots, I managed to steal a few minutes of sleep without being noticed. Or so I thought. The highway was flooding but we made it to Hays without incident. After several cups of coffee, we slogged our way back to the bike and rolled into the garage, cold and wet but with huge smiles on our faces. We saw countless bikes on our travels and I tried to wave to them all. I look at it this way (and I realize that this has been discussed ad nauseam), the greeting keeps me alert on the road. If someone does or doesn't return the greeting is of little importance. However, for those of us who travel by motorcycle, the greetings are always exchanged. But in order to see this occur, you must be one of the few traveling before the sun rises, and after it sets.

April 5, 2008

Last week's "ride" to Steamboat was done in a 4WD through the ice and snow covering Rabbit Ears Pass.  We had a great time and even brought along our furry son.

While we had planned to go south to New Mexico this weekend, we decided to head north instead. I really wonder sometimes why I spend hours with a mapping program planning ride destinations when in reality we hardly ever go where planned. We saddled up and headed north on CO 85 towards Cheyenne. Traffic thinned out once we passed Brighton and the miles rolled by effortlessly. We saw another Goldwinger ahead of us moving at a good clip so we let him stay about a half-mile ahead to cop block. We were soon gangsta leaning as we crossed the border and the infamous Wyoming wind kicked in. After a quick and chilly fuel stop, we turned east on I-80 with the wind at our back. Pulling off the highway, we went to the Longhorn Cafe in Kimball, Nebraska. After a filling lunch (pan-fried chicken) for less than $14, we rode south on Hwy 71 and crossed back into Colorado. The wind died down and the sun made a very brief appearance.  In a hurry to feed our furry children, we took CO 14 and continued to CO 71 and then home on I-76. The wind and my heavy throttle hand had us fueling again just outside of town. It was good to celebrate the passing of a particularly rough winter. Three states and 345 miles provided a nice warmup to the rides ahead; now back to my Streets and Trips program. 

January 27th

Finally after a long 3 months, the ice, snow, and mud (a city improvement project) were swept away by unusually warm weather; considering the bitter cold winter to date. After checking the garbagewagon for roadworthiness, I pushed the starter and headed out of the garage. With the Aurora glacier still left to negotiate, 1100 pounds of bike and bikerider (and a 98 pound wife) slipped, slided, and pushed our way through to the street. Now winded and hot, we began the first ride of 2008. Temperatures were closing in on 60 degrees as we headed East on I-70. Several other winter-shocked riders were out as well as we waved wildy to each other in pure motorcycle-riding giddiness. We took the Byers exit and were soon heading along Hwy 36 with freshly plowed fields covered in snow as far as the eye could see. Traffic seemed even less sparse than normal and we decided to head South towards Limon as the fuel light came on. With a full tank of fresh gasoline, we headed towards home and a lunch date of fish and chips and beer. We left the interstate at Deer Trail and took the more relaxed route after consistently playing and winning at highway patrol roulette. We pulled into the British Bulldog for lunch amid a crowd of scooteristas. So this day ended with smiles all around and a little over 200 miles. It's going to be a great year.

We were left to our own devices on Saturday and decided to spend the pre-snow storm hours going for a short ride.With the clouds steadily moving in from the west, we took a lazy ride through town and out towards the Aurora Reservoir and parts east. We  discussed how over the years the road became more 'civilized' as the population grew. Now completley paved, it takes you all the way to the Kiowa/Bennett Road(another previously gravel/dirt affair). As we rode east, the wind and accompanying tumbleweeds became more prevalent. When the mountains started to vanish in cloud cover, we turned for the return ride to town. We stopped at the Firing Line for some quick target shooting. After shooting a couple of hundred rounds, we stopped briefly to chat with an Airman who was manning a table in the parking lot. He was assisting with a group selling trinkets to raise money to provide much needed supplies to the men and women serving in Iraq. We bought several and thanked him for his service. Then it was off to the barn to call it a day with just under 100 miles on the odometer. As I write this, I'm preparing to knock the snow off my tree branches. Winter has come way too early this year.

So after repeatedly sleeping in on 2 consecutive weekend, we finally got our work-weary asses up and left the house at 6AM for a quick little lunch ride to Lamar, Colorado. Advertised as the Bull A Festival, we (Mick and I at least) were hoping to sample some rocky mountain oysters. Wanting to arrive fashionably late, we took a detour and headed south on I-25 with 50 degree temps and clear skies. Would this be our first ride of the season with no rain? At Colorado Springs, we rode south on CO 115 past Ft Carson. If I remember correctly, the Army would shoot at .50 cal targets over this highway. We stopped in Penrose for some fuel and then turned east towards Pueblo on Hwy 50. There was some fairly heavy traffic until we reached Fowler and it then became almost nonexistant. Near the town of McClave, we saw the flashing lights of the highway patrol as they stopped traffic in both directions. Within minutes, a pack of bicyclists rode past escorted by 2 motorcycles. I remembered that there was a bicycle race in conjunction with the festival. We were soon greeted with the familiar stockyard aroma indicating we were nearing Lamar. So we slowed down and started scanning for festival signs.

We cruised through town and saw nothing. My wife said she saw a small sign so we turned around at the fairgrounds and rode back. There was indeed a sign, but no indications of the festival's location. We stopped for gas and directions but the attendant didn't know where it was. Considering that you can get from one end of Lamar to the other in about 5 minutes that seemed odd. Maybe they didn't want outsiders to know. So we took the east to west main street and repeated the process to no avail. The festival was a mystery. After 30 minutes of 'sightseeing', we decided to hit the road. We rode Hwy 287 to Eads, and then headed west on CO 96. Through the ghost like towns of Galatea, Haswell, Arlington, and Sugar City, I wonderd if rural America will completely disappear in the near future. At Ordway, we rode north on CO 71 and a lunch stop in Limon. The grasshoppers were like machine gun bullets straffing shins and windshields as we rode in slight excess of the posted speed limit. We took a stretch break in the desolation surrounding Punkin Center. As we neared Limon, I laughed to myself as to what cagers must thing when they're passed by 2 Goldwings at triple digit speeds while the pillion is reading a mystery novel.

At Limon we ate a very deserving lunch (excellent liver and onions)and had perhaps the coldest beer in the state. After we rehydrated with plenty of ice water, we headed for home on CO 40 & 36 to avoid the building highway traffic. With temps now nearing 90, we stopped for fuel and water in Watkins and chatted briefly with 2 guys riding back to New York from Moab. With only 2 miles to go, the first rain drops started to fall. Mick bid a hasty goodbye and headed for his house and we pulled into the garage just before the storm got serious. While we didn't get to eat 'oysters' that day, we still got in an enjoyable 530+ mile adventure.

It was kind of a last minute ride today but we had a great time checking out the many cars and bikes in the show. We left my house at 10AM after looking over Rob's new HD Springer. It would be a guys only ride as the ladies were preoccupied with other things. Anyway, we took the highway to 72d & Raleigh for the show. Over 100 cars and bikes filled the display area. As we rolled up, the parking guru told us to head on in. Once we made our way through the crowd of machinery and humanity, we found that there was no more parking. So we did a 180 and headed to the apartments across the street to park. My favorites were the rat hot rods that were bare bones stripped down to the point that many didn't even have floorboards. There was a chopped Honda 750 in an Indian plunger frame that really stood out as well. The one negative aspect was that there were no vendors selling drinks of any kind. With the temps in the mid-90's, we hit the highway again and made our way to Shifters bar.

Shifters provided a good refuge from the heat as we settled in for some beers and Rocky Mountain oysters. They have an excellent menu and it seems the kind of place worth a repeat visit. Then we headed back towards our side of town and Lindy's bar. After a couple of beers, we rode off for home. All in all, a great way to spend a lazy Sunday.

August 4, 2007:

It was a balmy 66 degrees when we departed the house at 5:20 AM heading west on I-70. Mick was leading and indicated that he had memorized the route that I had meticulously planned. What he didn't know was the route that I had agonized over for weeks, didn't really appeal to me any longer. So as with all of our rides, we decided to just wing it. I actually had gassed up prior to our departure time so we cruised west watching dawn progress in our mirrors. On the other side of Eisenhower Tunnel, the temps had dipped to 50 degrees and it was evident that we would get wet on this ride as with all of our rides. En route to Leadville, we encountered about 2500 bicyclists chugging up the hill along side us. I give them full marks for their tenacity. From CO 91 we turned onto CO 82 and stopped in Twin Lakes for a quick bite to eat and some coffee. Then it was over Independence Pass and towards the 'rich and beautiful' in Aspen.  We continued on through the decadence and turned south on CO 133. At Hotchkiss, we stopped briefly to strip down to t-shirts as the temps were now nearing 80 degrees. We rode on CO 92 towards Delta and then turned south again on CO 550 (the Million Dollar Highway) towards the town of Olathe. Our intentions of stopping for the corn festival didn't materialize. It was way to early in the day to stop riding. We did find the Mountain View Winery and purchased a couple of bottles of their finest. As we continued south pass the town of Montrose, we noticed how all of the HD riders were wearing matching rainsuits. They jinxed us as the first drops hit and we pulled over to put our jackets on. From there until we reached Durango, it rained buckets of cold water. The scenery over  Red Mountain, Molas, and Coal Bank Passes was even more vibrant after being newly 'washed.' We initiated Mick into the No Vacancy club and headed out of Durango after again stripping down to deal with the almost 90 degree temps. On a previous ride on CO 160, we hit a rainstorm and true to form, the rain started just before pulling into Pagosa Springs for the night and securing the last available room. With the mountain roads and rain, we still managed a respectable 500 miles for the day.

August 5, 2007:

After breakfast, we again rode east on CO 160 over Wolf Creek Pass to the town of Del Norte.The temps continued to rise as we rode north on CO 112 and Hwy 285. As we rode over Kenosha Pass the traffic started to increase in volume and craziness. We stopped for lunch at the Cut Throat Grill in Bailey and were soon on the outskirts of town. We waved goodbye to Mick as he broke off for home. We stopped at the Williams tavern for a cold one and then pulled into the garage just shy of 300 miles for the day. 

On a sidenote, I ran into Brad the other day and he gave me a brief rundown on his recent 2600 mile trip to New Mexico, Nevada, and Utah. He said it was long, hot, and dry and that his solid wheels on his HD acted like a sail.

July 4, 2007:

This year's tour was cut short by time constraints, so we decided to ride accordingly and just make our way north to Helena to mine for sapphires. We departed with mild temperatures and blue skies at 6 AM and took I-25 to Fort Collins and then onto Hwy 287 towards Laramie. We try to take the interstates when we leave early in order to avoid the critters. Right on 270, a pickup creamed a deer in front of us. We would be on the lookout for deer the rest of the trip. From Laramie, we took I-80 west and then it was back on 287 towards Lander. As we pulled into town for gas, the remnants of their Independence Day parade was winding down.  We were lucky enough to be the first vehicle through and we continued on through the Wind River Indian reservation in search of lunch. In Dubois, we found the deal of the day; cold beer and a free BBQ lunch courtesy of the Outlaw Saloon. Not wanting to get caught by the town's festivities, we make a quick departure down main street straight into the color guard proudly carrying Old Glory. We waited for them and the VFW float to pass, and then shot down a dirt road to the outskirts of town. Little did we know the significance of that first offroad excursion.

Within a few miles, the dreaded Pavement Ends sign appeared. We rode more dirt in the next couple of hours than when we owned the BMW 1150GS. By keeping the speed down, we slugged through the dirt of Hwy 287 until Grand Teton National Park came into view. We paid the park entrance fee (that was good for Yellowstone as well) and made our way around Jackson Lake and miles of magnificent views. Traffic moved along quite nicely considering it was a holiday. We entered Yellowstone National Park and made our way to get something to snack on at the Old Faithful visitor center/money-making emporia. We walked over just in time to watch the show and finsh our water and peanuts. The temps were in the mid-90's by then and we made our way past the paint pots and steaming creeks towards West Yellowstone. Just before we exited the park, we ran into a roadblock. A baby moose was 5 feet from the edge of the road. So each car stopped for this perfect photo op for a few seconds. Apparently the asshole behind us decided that he's had his fill of nature and started laying on his horn. The old lady turned around and showed him the ONE item she'd picked up for him at Target. He promptly regained his appreciation of nature.

We again manged to squeeze though the festivities in West Yellowstone; or so we thought. Now instead of by passing the parade, we were the only motorcycle in it. So we putted at 5 mph and the old lady did her best royal wave. Soon we were heading north in the Earthquake Lake Area, site of a devastating earthquake/flood that killed 28 and created the lake in a matter of seconds. As Hwy 287 wound northward, the terrain resembled the Columbia River Valley of Washington state. We finally pulled into Three Forks and called it a day after 730 miles

July 5, 2007:

We slept in since the Spokane Bar Sapphire Mine didn't open until 9 AM anyway. We rode the 60 miles to East Helena and promptly found ourselves on more dirt and gravel. Now increasingly confident in our offroad abilities, we made it to the mine without incident. The mining is actually sifting through bags of gravel that have been previously processed with heavy machinery. We went through 2 bags in about 3.5 hours and aquired 10 sapphires that we'll send in to get cut and polished. The largest was a 1.3 carat yellow sapphire. The 30 other sapphires are not jewelry quality. Now hot and thirsty, we headed back and stopped in Townsend for a beer, sangwich, and ice water at the Commercial Bar. Since it was now almost 3 PM, we decided to hit the I-90 towards Billings. The ride on the slab was fast, but hot and windy with temps near 100. As we neared Billings, we ran into rush hour traffic and every imaginable Goldwing from all over the country in town for WingDing. Soon we were off the interstate and on MT 212, heading as far as daylight would allow. We passed the Little Big Horn monument and rolled over some of the most interesting terrain we have seen. As it grew darker, the little eyes on the side of the road became more prevalent. We rode into Broadus, in total darkness and went into the Stagecoach (?) Bar for beer and frozen pizza (rather good). We hit the sack under a picture of sheep on the wall reflecting on the day's 510 miles.

July 6, 2007:

After fueling and eating breakfast at the local cafe, Hoofers, we hit the road towards Devil's Tower and home. The last time we were there was after Sturgis 1991. In retrospect, after 1989, Sturgis was never the same. Anyway, we rode by the tower and snapped several pictures. It's still inspiring in a mystical way. Now pressed for time, we rode past dozens of deer and missed several running through town in Newcastle. just outside of Lusk on Hwy 85, we stopped for a couple on a HD pulling a trailer. Jason and Carrie from the Four Corners area of Colorado, were missing a critical component of combustion: fuel. We rode the couple of miles to town and got them a quart of gas (no gas cans; we used an empty ATF container). We followed them to town and waved goodbye. Then it was a quick lunch in Torrington and a high speed run for home. We pulled into the garage with 540 miles on the odometer.

Grand Tour 2007 was short and sweet. We were suprised that Hwy 287 and MT 212 were so scenic. and highly recommend those routes. We'll return for more sapphires next year. Grand Tour 2008 will be in Scandanavia and Europe if all goes well.