I am leaving the Rocky mountains tomorrow so there was only thing to do. Go high.
Pikes Peak is not the highest mountain in Colorado but is only a few hundred feet lower and I had heard of it as a venue for hill climb races. Anyway, 4300M is nothing to be sniffed at. The road up there starts innocently enough winding its way through the alpine forest to reservoirs created to supply water from the snow melt (as rainfall is scare in Colorado). From there the trees thin out and are replaced by increasingly barren snow covered granite. Further still, and there more ice and snow but less oxygen (40% less I was told). I was feeling a tad delicate after polishing off a 6 pack of pale ale the night before so the combination of thin air, road edges with gut girdling drops and a 20 degree drop in the temperature had me clinging to the bike. Worth it when I got there mind (although no camera could do justice to the 360 degree panoramic scene).
Felt better and better as I came down and decided to have one last circuit around the mountains near Denver. 200 miles latter I was back in Colorado Springs. Again, fabulous scenery. I stopped at a viewing point which had within sight a dozen 3500M plus peaks.
Tomorrow I head for the open plains of Kansas and to Dodge City.
Such is life in motel land, I was sat on my step trying to get a signal when a bike arrives. Zanka was from Bulgaria but now lives in LA. Just bought a '93 Firebalde from Chicago. "Tell me about your self David". I retreated. Morning and with the railroad in the background we talked." I am a motivational speaker"...Right. "Thinking is the pinnacle of the male mind". Right. "You must see The Secret - have you seen it ?" No. "Then see Earl Nightingale's The Strangest Secret...you can do anything David". Right. I headed off.
Colorado has a fantastic backdrop. Its the American ski area (think Aspen). I headed for the mountains and wasn't disappointed. The road to Silverton (an old mining town) was partly blocked by a rock slide so I had to wait for the one hour the road opened. Slowed me down but I did get see a great waterfall.
They describe this part of Colorado as a mini Switzerland. Makes sense.
With a very squared off rear tyre and a blinking oil light, I decided it was time for a service. Found a place at Grand Junction just a few miles from where I was staying. I just turned up. They were happy to help. Will take an hour. Took all day. Still I got to talk to a lot of other bikers - 90% of which were Harley riders including a bloke in a leather cap, waist coat and cuban heels who had just bought this for $36K (c. £24K).
He was 70 years old and had 20 other Harley's. Later Jersey Steve turned up. His throttle cable was broke - simple problem other than his monkey hanger bars required a cable about six foot long. So he was waiting. Used to be in a member of the Bandidos and been inside for a while. Now married to a native Indian. "Don't do BMW's - I'm too short".
With the hosepipe length throttle cable fitted, Jersey Steve made his way. Just after this pic he tried to swing his leg over the bike with some difficultly. "Goddamn leg, I lost it back in '93. As I lay by the bike, I said to this bloke - go and get my boot will ya?. Steve, I ain't picking that up its still got yer leg in it". Showed me his leg. Looked like the aftermath of a shark attack. Pointed the wrong way too.
Small niggle of US ways is needing to pay in advance for fuel. This applies if you pay by card and do not have a ZIP code. So, I guess on what I need to fill up. Not easy for a bike with a small tank. So, I headed off having only filled to three quarters ("I love your accent"). Once again the road was a gem. Second gear switchbacks around vertical rock faces
I briefed entered Colorado before returning to Utah to visit the Arches NP - an area shaped by millions of years of erosion. Huge statues of sandstone dominate the landscape which is constantly changing as a result of the unstable bedrock underground and the merciless elements above.
Although the park is famous for its arches, I found other examples of the eroded shapes more dramatic - take the balancing stone.
As I was riding through, my fuel was low & my oil light came on so I couldn't doodle too long. Plus the temperature was 33C. Too hot for me in helmet and jacket (which few other bikers wore).
From today I'm heading east. For me, west is best. That's not a political statement. Just a DRS theory. In the US that's the "how the west was won" story. Same applies to the history of the UK, Ireland, Canada (maybe), France, Australia (broadly)......etc etc. In each instance, the west side of a given country tends to be wilder, more mountainous and less governable & therefore less developed. There are of course many exceptions (e.g Spain, Germany) but I like the theory so, if in doubt, go west.
"Hey, where you from?"... "The UK". "I told you Frank that guy sounds just like that Bear Grylls". I was in Pinedale, Wyoming heading south. That roads from Jackson to Pinedale were great twisting by horse and beef ranches advertising white water adventures.
The two blokes at the filling stop in Pinedale strolled across and shook my hand slowly and very firmly each with hands the size of dinner plates. "What do you get out of this thing?"..pointing at the bike.."I can get over 50 mpg" I offered (proud of my new high score). "Seen many animals along the way?"..."well there's plenty of deer around here"..."that's because they're migrating - you're fine as long as you keep your engine smooth. Them deer don't like surprises". Right.
I was heading for Utah and the landscape was changing again. The lush, rolling farmland and fast flowing rivers is replaced by drier, unforgiving landscapes reminiscent of the big cowboy westerns.
You feel close to the desert. The landscape is harsher, steeper and more dramatic (like the approach to the Sahara via the Atlas). Temperature peaked at 32C and stayed there but was moderated a little by strong, gusty side winds. Then as you start to climb higher, the road returns to switchbacks and suddenly opens up to reveal an oasis of colour as far as the eye can see. They call this dinosaur country (as many prints & bones have been found).
I was on the back roads so there was little traffic noise bar the occasional truck grinding through the gears An osprey nonchalantly flapped by as I took this shot. Nearby a pair of hawks soared in the thermals (swainson's hawks I think). I could also hear an ominous rattle from near to where the bike stood. Reminded me this is rattle snake country.
In Walmart later buying my pale ales in Vernal, the young girl on the checkout cheerily asked "Can I see some ID sir?". Made my day.
The ride from Jackson to Yellowstone takes you through the Grand Teton NP. In hindsight, it was as memorable as Yellowstone. The Teton range is a wall of rock created by tectonic plates moving along a fault line and it dominates the landscape as you travel north.
And let there be no doubt the road north to Yellowstone is the tourist trail. Overfilled hire cars with Japanese tourists jostled with furry faced, tattooed men in cut off t-shirts with over-wide V8 trucks & V8 guts.The former will stop with no notice to take shots of each other. The latter will drive extremely slowly & take hugely extravagant manoeuvres when turning left or right. All driving no faster than 45 mph.
Think Yellowstone, think geezers, think Old Faithful. The NP is scattered with hundreds of geysers & hot springs but the dependable one is OF. So, having followed the cavalcade of tourists to said geezer, I was much amused to find long lines of size 20 plus backsides sat on benches as far as the eye could see in front of OF's steaming hole. Very Monty Pythonesque I thought. I walked off to see the more camera shy geezers. Is it possible to use the words hot, sulphurous & colourful without resorting to fart humour ?
Still, give him his due, when OF did let rip, it was impressive.
Geezers and random tourists aside (of which I am part), Yellowstone is a beautiful place. You are always reminded that this is a volcanic place. It creates an unique environment - river fishing with steaming geezers in the background.
I travelled back via Yellowstone which is at 2400M and still largely frozen.
NB pet hate for the long term budget hotel man is American cars that still have alarms that beep when you lock or unlock them (technology from the 1990s I recall). So late on, people arrive back from their fast food troughs and beep to lock. Then beep to unlock/lock to get what they've forgot. Repeat. Repeat for 30 plus cars. I am moments away from opening door naked and shouting "we live in the XXin 21st century, why do you need a beep to tell you your cars locked. Do you need a beep to tell you to have a dump!...". Perhaps not.
From Salmon, I headed south for the Sawtooth national park. Idaho has the best roads so far with winding roads following fast flowing rivers taking you from open plains into the mountains. The Sawtooth range did not disappoint. Great scenery passed as I navigated rock strewn hairpins whilst trying to spot red-winging blackbirds & golden crowned sparrows (had to stop in the end).
This area originally attracted white settlers for the fur then the gold then the land. Given the ruggedness of the terrain making home here was always going to be a challenge. East of the Sawtooth range is no easier. It leads into a lava field called "The Craters of the Moon" which, I read, played havoc with waggons and horses. No such problems for me but as I headed further east beyond the lava fields a new peril emerged. The endless desert highway. This was the first time I had ridden east properly and the landscape changes again. No trees, no bushes, no bends in the road, no animals, no people - just road. After a hundred miles or so, I was reducing to singing Stray Cats songs (Rumble in Brighton) & refusing to do anything that could jeopardise my best ever MPG score (which currently stands at 52).
Thankfully I was saved (once again) by the mountains as I started to climb up into the Grand Teton range. In the background to the north is Yellowstone where I'm heading tomorrow.
Must go. Need to do my washing. Sounds hasty but it is week three and you can only wear clothes inside out for so long. Here's a bike shot for good measure.
