Day 33 – July 30, 2003

The Majestic Ride

Ride from Denver, Colorado to Green River, Utah

We bypassed Denver as much as is possible and still go from the east to the west side. As we merged with the I-70 and headed up into the Rocky’s, I am reminded of the reason I miss it so much here. There are a lot more houses around here than there were just last year, but I have noticed that since I first got close to Ft. Collins. The Denver area is growing at pace as fast as the one around LA. As we get further up the mountains we start to see the snow caps and the air gets a little cooler. The trees now so thick on the mountains they look like a warm blanket laid over them just for warmth. As we continue to climb we start passing through the tunnels on this road that have become common to the locals, but an absolute wonder to those who pass through for the first or even the second time. We pass the old mines that were once the mainstay of the area that is now almost completely supported by tourism. One or two of them are kept open as a kind of working museum.

We had left this morning abruptly and had forgotten to eat, so we stopped off in Idaho Springs for breakfast. I am reminded again, as a couple exit the cozy confines of their car, how much more we experience on the bikes. The chill morning air and the smell of the pine trees. I’m not talking the smell most people relate to the pine fresheners in their cars or the cleaners that stink up their homes, but the actual smell that the pine trees exude. It is a very light smell that permeates your sense without overpowering your smell. You can smell the moisture in the air as well and I keep looking at the sky wondering if I am missing something. The clouds up here are so different and constantly changing with the wind that you can look up one minute and see a completely different sky that the minute before. The rivers that run alongside the road as you climb and change roads, have different names, but more than that is they way that each one of them changes as you go around a bend in the road. One second you see a small river, then a dam, then a raging river, white caps, small stream, muddy water mixed with white caps, the river disappears into the trees and then is back again. One river merges and it then is a different river. There is almost no water, then there are people in several rafts shooting the rapids. It is really hard to keep up with even if you are watching.

We see a sign indicating a place called Silver Plume, and as we round the bend we actually see a plume of silver smoke. At first I think a fire, last year this whole area was full of fires, but I quickly realize it is just one of the old steam engine trains they keep working for the tourists. As we round another bend and cross another peek, we start seeing the fire damage from last year and cannot help but feel a sense of regret. But as the air starts getting colder, we see the entrance to the Loveland tunnel. I remember as a kid listening to all the stories around Denver as it was blasted out of almost solid rock. I am not sure how long it is, but I’d say it is well over a mile and twists at least two or three times during the ride. Even with the lights it seems to get dark close to the center of the tunnel. Oh, I guess it is my sun glasses. We had almost forgotten about the cold air while we were in the tunnel, but the second you exit the other side, it hits you like a slap in the face and we are glad we stopped and put on sweat shirts before we entered.

Now the roller coaster ride of the downhill starts. It seems that every car on the road wants to be the first one down. The trucks all want to fly, but the 6% downgrade and the run-a-way truck ramps keep them in check. The smell of burning brakes fills your nostrils as you try to keep up, stay out of the way, and still take in the breathtaking views. As it starts to level off, we stop for gas in a little town called Frisco, and as we leave the station, I notice the air feels different and I look up and see those familiar dark clouds that were not there 5 minutes before. I look at the wind direction and notice that they are being blown south. We are going south at this part of the route and they are still west of us. I can see that the entire cloud is small enough that even if it hits, it could only last five or ten minutes. We hope for the best and head out. Around the next bend we get a few drops and the road turns west. I hope we can get through it and speed up a little. It doesn’t work. The rain starts coming down so hard it feels like we are getting hit with small rocks. I pull over and start covering the packs. We get our rain gear on as quickly as we can, but the rain is so hard we are getting wet. I look up at the sky again and I can see it is a very small rain cloud, but it is not moving. I decide to ride on through it. Sure enough about five minutes later, it has not only stopped, but the sun is out and warming. I pull over again and realize that my hands are very cold. I know Karen’s must be freezing because her gloves will tend to soak up the cold water. I get off my bike and get a dry cloth from my bags and move back to her as she removes her gloves and as I dry them, I see that they are bright red and close to freezing. I rub them to get the blood flowing and open up one of our chemical warming packs. I few seconds later they are warming and ok. We start up again and a few miles later we stop in Veil in the very hot sun, and remove a layer of cloths. We put away the rain gear and head on down the mountain. Too soon! A few miles down the road and it starts up again, more rain. This time we stop right away and get bundled up. Five minutes later it is over and the skies are clear and bright again with no sign there ever was any rain. A few more miles and several white caps filtering the river later, and we notice that the muddy water has turned to an almost clear river. We stop at a rest stop in a place that has the name “No Name”. It is beautiful and peaceful here and we notice a sign that indicates the governor of this state back in 19 o’something had said that he hoped that this canyon would on day become a part of a “Grand Highway”.

As we drop from an elevation well above 9000 feet to about 4000 feet, we see some of the most incredible sights in the world. As I pass through the canyons and look at the height, the distance from the road to the top of the canyon walls, I can only wonder how anyone could possibly use the word majesty to describe a person. Most people I know would first think of that word as related to royalty, “Your Majesty”. I think if they had ever been down this road on a bike, they would rethink the meaning of the word.

As we exit the canyons and around the corner, we are passing thought Grand Junction and debating whether we should stay here or go on to Green River, we see a huge cloud of dust in front of us under the overpass. The overpass just disappears in the cloud. As we slow with the other traffic, we see the truck that was a half mile in front of us, is now in the ditch. We stop and make sure the 3 in the truck are ok, and that someone is calling 911, then as I pick up a couple parts off the road so that no one else hits them, a cop shows up. He asks if we saw what happened and after assuring him we only saw the dust, we head out. The truck was a mess and the driver very lucky. It is a hard reminder to stay alert as we go on. We stop in Fruita to get some gas and water, and decide we can easily make it to Green River, so we leave Colorado and enter the “bad lands” of Utah for the last 100 miles. It is a straight shot and a reasonable quick and hot ride. This is the only part of this country I have ever been in where you actually see a sign that says, “No Services Next 100 Miles”. As we pull into Green River, we stop at the first motel we come to and check in. Tired, hot and dusty, we need a shower and some sleep. Till then, we’ll see you on the byways….