What an afternoon

Wednesday morning
Eric says it was courage. I say it was bad judgement. We'll let the readers decide (feel free to comment below).
Late yesterday afternoon, coming south on 285 from Como we encountered some stiff wind gusts, maybe 20 mph. The sky was darkening and the iPhone showed scattered thunderstorms, some severe, throughout the area. We stopped at a gas station/Thai restaurant (I guess you can combine anything) in Poncha Springs to assess the situation. We could either stay at the motel next door or continue on to Del Norte which was 75 miles ahead. There is no town in between, just miles of prairie touching up against the mountains off in the distance. We really didn't want to stay there. The sky seemed to be clearing so, some would say mistakenly, we decided to hoof it.
For 30 miles our decision seemed like a good one; a straight shot on 285 going 70 mph plus. Very quickly however, things started to change. We could see in the distance bands of clouds starting to form. It got darker by the second. Within 10 minutes a black curtain of swirling torrent covered the horizon in front of us, maybe 10 miles away. We were riding in bright sunshine but heading towards a curtain of death. There were miles of flat prairie on both sides, no where to stop or to find shelter from possible lightning. Yikes.
It felt like a movie. "The wind began to switch, our bikes to pitch and suddenly our plan started to unhitch" or something like that. The only things missing were Dorothy and the Wicked Witch.
As we approached the curtain, before the rain started, the winds fired up; 30 mph, maybe stronger. The gusts we encountered earlier came from one direction making it easier to deal with. All you had to do was lean your bike into them and you remained stable. Not these winds. They were hitting us from both sides. I swear they were trying to form a funnel. We slowed from 70 mph to 40. That helped a little but not a lot.
We had made our bed. Now we were sleeping in it. Oddly, for me, a zen sense of calm set in. If you're going to meet your maker, you might as well enjoy it. I took a deep breath, wiggled my shoulders, relaxed my grip and just went with it. The winds continued to bounce us around a then a few raindrops hit my visor. I realized that unlike Eric, my bike had no windshield. This really was going to be fun. A few miles from the curtain the torrent let loose. Oh dear lord. The only part of my body exposed was my neck. It felt like needles were being fired into my jugular.
As we reached the curtain the only thing I could think about was how deep it was. Thankfully, not very deep. The worst part lasted only 20 minutes. We soon emerged into another sunny range and one of the most brilliant rainbows I've ever seen. Phew, what an experience.
The rest of the trip to Del Norte was easy. In fact, so easy that we decided to keep going to South Fork 20 miles further ahead. That is where we pulled into the Chinook Lodge, rented a small cabin (mice and no hot water) and then walk a mile each way to a rodeside diner, The Rainbow, for spaghetti (me) and trout (Eric).
By the time we got back we were wiped. We read for a few minutes and then hit the hay.
Earlier in the day we crossed Ute Pass from near Grand Lodge to Dillon where we visited with Helmut and Anita for an hour. A great visit.
We then caught Boreas pass from Breckenridge




to Como. Both passes, all dirt and gravel roads, were spectacular.
It's raining outside right now. Forecast shows rain all day.




Eric thinks it's an opportunity for us to cover lots of miles on the paved roads so that we can get to Silverton for more off-rode biking. I'm thinking it's an opportunity to meander to Pegosa Springs or Durango and to relax a bit. Maybe we learned a lesson yesterday. Maybe not. We'll figure it out.
That's it for now.
Later.
George
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Bryn Mawr,Pagosa Springs,United States

Too tired to blog today

Back from dinner, spaghetti for me and trout for Eric. Had a great day but too tired to write. Will do so in the morning. Here is where we are staying...



No hot water and a friendly mouse in the room. I'm too tired to care about either.
Good night to all.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Chinook Dr,South Fork,United States

Monday night in Grand Lake

Monday night
We are in Grand Lake for the night (see photo).




A very nice vacation town just outside of Rocky Mountain National Park.
This morning, at the bike shop, I opted for the smaller motorcycle, the BMW 650GS.




I'm so glad I did. It's very maneuverable, rides well on the highway, handles the Rocky Mountain curves really well and is perfect for the dirt and gravel back roads. Good stuff.
We began the trip with 30 miles of highway riding from Denver to Boulder on rte 70 and 36. A funny thing that rte 36. Your going 70 miles per hour most of the time and then you hit the U. of Colorado area of Boulder and it immediately changes to a series of stop signs and red lights.
From Boulder we went northwest taking Lee Hill Rd up into the mountains and then trekking over some great dirt roads up to the town Ward. It was an incredible ride with many run down towns overlooking miles and miles of incredible expanse. We experienced temperature swings of 30 plus degrees as we climbed and descended. The aspens are turning yellow and are shining brilliantly, especially as the sun emerges from intermittent clouds. Breathtaking.
For awhile I was wondering who those occasional back country folks we encountered are supporting in the upcoming presidential election. Then it dawned on me that these people are living off the grid. I'm sure they aren't paying incomes taxes much less voting for Obama or Romney. There are no utility poles, no cell towers, no paved roads, no piped in water. These people are on their own. No government assistance needed or wanted.
Not far outside of Boulder we pulled over to adjust the gps. A few minutes later a woman, Lisa, came walking up asking us to help her change her car tire. As I said "sure", Eric whispered into the intercom "We are behind schedule. No f...... way.". Or course we did help her. A mere 20 minutes delay for us and a huge favor for her. Eric will tell you that he did all of the work raising the car, loosening the lug nuts and replacing the tire. Of course I have photographic evidence




to the contrary (see photo).
From Ward we entered the Peak to Peak highway for the final 30 miles north to Estes Park. This ride took us through lots of old mining towns as we had ongoing views of Long Peak.




I could just imagine the wagon trains going through the valley below 200 years ago.
In Estes Park, we paid $10 each and entered Rocky Mountain National Park where we caught Trail Ridge road to Grand Lake. Oh my God. For 48 miles, we had the whole sweep of the Rockies before us in all directions. Matt Kennedy told us this would be spectacular and it didn't disappoint. Absolutely amazing.
I'm not sure I've ever been to 12,000 feet before. The altitude was kicking my butt. I was trying hard to focus but it was affecting my breathing, making me fatigued and affecting my judgement. Multiple times I entered the steep switchbacks going too fast. Once I took a turn too wide and there was a camper coming the other way. The driver jerked his vehicle to the right to avoid me. He screamed out his window. I was profusely apologetic and swore to myself that I would not let it happen again.
We stopped for lunch at Cafe in the Clouds (I think that was the name of it). It was a very touristy stop but at 11,500 feet,the panoramic views we're like no other you'd ever dine to.
Three quarters of the way down we reached the Continental Divide.




The Divide is pretty cool as this is where the watersheds separate, draining into the Pacific on one side and into river systems flowing to the Atlantic on the other.
We reached Grand Lake at 4 pm. We were wiped. I took a nap. Eric watched the U.S. Open. He screamed every time Murray scored a point. It was a fitfilled nap to say the least.

(paragraph deleted).

A long day tomorrow with an uncertain weather forecast. We hope to stop in Breckenridge for lunch with Helmut and Anita, Eric's friends who relocated here a few years ago.

Goodnight to all.

-George

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From Eric...
Today was pretty terrific. Up at 4am and on the road by ten. Had a great time changing the tire (without help) from a stranded motorist (female) that George decided to "help." But for those readers who have never been to rocky mountain national park, please go. There is no excuse. An hour from Denver. Spectacular and breathtaking. Before I die, but probably after a right knee replacement, I swear that Celia and I, with friends or possibly kids, will climb Long Peak.
The usual ups and downs with George, mostly ups, punctuated by one truly mortifying dinner when yet another server (attractive female) was hounded for a video blog. I initially left for the rest room but then returned to advise our twentysomething server, now under covert surveillance by George's omnipresent iPad of her right to say no. She was a good sport and did it anyway, but this could be a short trip if Colorado has a meaningful stalking law.
I would invite reader comment on whether these intrusions into the private lives of wait staff are ethical since some fear there tip money will be jeopardized if they decline. George would not do that but they do not know him.
Go to the Park. You will love it!

Monday breakfast at Denny's

Monday morning.
Eric arose early. Miraculous. We headed over for our free sausage, scrambled eggs, bagels, powdered OJ and oatmeal in a bag. We step into the dining area and Eric says "I'm not eating this crap." I'm still not in the mood to argue. There is a Denny's right next door. We head there instead. Ellie, the server, greets us with a big smile. The place is empty. I attempt a little humor. I ask "How long is the wait?". I'm not sure if here glance was one of being puzzled or annoyed. There certainly was no trace of a smile.
I should have let things be. Rather, I explained that we were doing a blog of our trip and wondered whether she would say a few words on video. Ellie politely declined but recruited Dwight, the host, to say a few words

Unfortunately I shut off the camera early. His best words were after the lights went down. Dwight is the man. Ellie is great too.
I had the Senior French Toast Slam for breakfast. My first discounted meal as a senior citizen (see photo) . I almost refused it but my frugality got the better of me.
We are off to pick up the bikes in a few minutes. Yes. The moment has arrived.
G

Our destination tomorrow; who knows?

10:30 p.m. local time, Sunday, Sept. 9th
We are at the Quality Inn in Aurora, CO for the night, having arrived just a few minutes ago. The familiar smell of Lysol permiates the air. I can't get the sink to stop dripping. The trucker next door has his TV blaring. Luxurious accommodations! I had thought $55 was a good deal until i saw the $43 neon Motel Six sign flashing next door. I'm talking to the manager in the morning. A continental breakfast awaits me at 6 a.m. I'm wondering whether Eric will join me before they close it down at 10.
I like to get to airports early but today was ridiculous. It was halftime of our soccer game, around 1:55 p.m. and Eric refused to wait til the end of the game to join me for a ride to the airport. Our flight was scheduled for 6:13 (it ended up leaving at 7:15) and the drive was 15 minutes. Eric says he had a mild case of traveling anxiety. My diagnosis was a little more severe, closer to full blown psychosis. Four hours early for a flight? What else is in store for this week?? Lord please look over me.
Our four and a half hour flight left an hour late. They said it was because of mechanical problems. I have my doubts. I looked out the terminal window and saw a large United Airlines Air Bus land and then get immediately surrounded by fleet of yellow fie engines. Smoke was coming from the left engine. I think they had cleared the runways of all take-offs and landings. They just didn't want to tell us so.
Back in the terminal Eric was making a scene. Our flight was full and he didn't want his assigned middle seat. Whaa whaa whaa. Cry me a river. Rather than hear about it all trip I decided to swap seats with him. He gave zero recognition to the fact that I recently had a full hip replacement.
As for our itinerary, here we go again. For months we've been talking about taking our large touring bikes from Denver to Rocky Mountain National Park, then heading southwest through Vail, Silverton, Durango and beyond. Yesterday I received a text message from Eric saying "Let's get smaller dual-sport bikes instead. We can spend the week in the mountains on dirt and rocky back roads? This could be the best trip ever or we could die." Hmm, way to sell it Eric. You may recall this is the same guy who led me on to Interstate 15 in Utah (Google it) for my first motorcycle ride. He also took me down black diamond slopes my first time skiing. There is a pattern here.
Privately, I must say, the back roads are tempting. I just flipped through Eric's paperback "The Complete Guide to Motorcycling in Colorado." There are many rarely traveled trails through old ghost towns and rocky canyons, and over mountain passes with sweeping views. I'm not sure we can pass them up. We'll decide for sure in the morning.
My eyelids are heavy. Time to call it a night.
I can't wait for our adventure to start. No matter the weather and destination, it's sure to be a blast.
Goodnight.
-George
------
These trips start with great expectations and excitement. I have the feeling that this will be the best one yet, as all the others were (as they were at the time, until, of course, the next trip).
There are always glitches and we have had a few here already. Northeastern women's soccer is, of course, the reason why we can't take a full week or ten days. George is now the "voice" on radio for those rampaging Huskies so he could not leave until the very end of the game, which caused me to have significant anxiety about getting to the airport at least three hours before the flight is scheduled to take off.
So I took a cab at halftime. It was a US Airways flight with a US Airways flight number so I thought I foolishly thought I should go to the US Airways terminal. After standing in line for a while, a helpful attendant told me that notwithstanding the above, I should go to the United Airlines terminal. After waiting half an hour for a terminal shuttle bus, I walked the short half mile to Terminal C carrying 100 pounds of luggage. (George packs lightly as it is understood that I will carry (and buy) all communal equipment. In the past, "communal" has been defined quite broadly and includes many items, (gloves, rain jackets, etc.) that a careful reader might justly conclude were "personal" to the individual rider. But let's not be negative). Thoughtfully, I texted George to tell him to go to the United gate as he was still busy doing the play by play.
I arrived at the United Terminal but could find no trace of United. It appeared to be just a Jet Blue terminal. But there was in fact a small United ticket counter. I then proceeded to security. Our little conveyor belt line came to a complete halt for 30 minutes because of an absence of plastic luggage bins, causing a meeting of high level TSA employees about what to do about the problem. After much deliberation and apparent debate, it became apparent that the problem could be fixed if the luggage bins are actually taken from the "after screening area" and brought back to the start of the conveyor belt.
After clearing security, I went to my gate and waited for about an hour. I then noticed it was a Jet Blue gate. Was the original US Airways flight, which had become a United flight, now a Jet Blue flight? It seemed possible. But no, my final destination was not Ft. Lauderdale and I should have been at gate 20, not 26. While the numbers were close, the gates were not. One half mile later, I arrived at the right gate and George was right behind me, wondering why I was still so anxious.
So there has already been adventure and unexpected events and we are off to a good start. There is confusion and some disagreement on the route we should take, but I own the GPS and the map.
- Eric
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Quality Inn, Aurora, CO

Vermont - from South to North in a day

It's 7 a.m. Saturday. I and a few other early-risers bought a large cup of dark roast from Jugtown and are sitting in town square overlooking the gazebo, the man-made lake and the Waterville Valley ski mountain. It's an idyllic peaceful spot, at least for now. My guess is that by 9 am Jugtown will have a line out the door with tourists seeking their morning brew, pastries and NY Times. (Like any resort within five hours of Manhattan, there's too many New Yorkers for my taste. If only they would discard those damn Yankee hats, we could probably coexist.)

Yesterday was a blast. The morning rain in Brattleboro burned off quickly. We launched by 7:30 and rode in a drizzle for a little while. Rather than grab breakfast in Brattleboro, we rode for an hour and stopped in at Jamaica Coffee for a pre-made breakfast sandwich. With mine I had a large fresh cup of Jamaican coffee. Eric had his first of many Cokes and a homemade frosted cookie. A feast fit for kings.

I forgot to mention that I bought a new summer motorcycle jacket the other day. It is well padded but still lightweight and has a thin mesh that made it ideal for yesterday's low 90's temperatures. I probably didn't need something so fancy. I don't think in my entire life I have purchased another piece of $270 clothing. It's worth it though. I feel liberated. That $25 thing that I bought off of Craigslist and have been wearing for three years feels like a straight jacket.

After breakfast we meandered up Rte 100 for five hours winding through 150 miles of sheer beauty! Constantly changing views as we mostly hugged the eastern slopes of the Green Mountains.

Through the day we went through old N.E. villages like Jamaica, Wilmington, Weston, Rochester, Warren and Waterbury enjoying the towering church steeples, rickety old general stores, old covered bridges, and green leafy foliage. I know I say this after most of our rides but this two-lane road has to be one of the most scenic roads in New England, if not the entire country.

We had lunch at Sugerbush. What an incredible respite for Eric to savor his chicken curry wrap and me, my Vermont country salad. Other than a gardener tending to her roses and a US Air pilot vacationing from Arizona with her kids, we had the patio to ourselves. The Vermont Symphony Orchestra was having its dress rehearsal for last night's season-opener at the adjacent tented amphitheater. Being serenaded by a high-quality symphony under blue skies and overlooking Sugerbush mountain is something I would have preferred to do with Margot. Instead I had to endure Eric's stream of insults and political rants. It didn't matter though. I was able to block him out and soak in the moment, both real and imagined.

From Sugerbush we continued North to Waterbury before cutting east on dirt roads over the Green Mountains. It was unfortunate that we brought the intercoms on this trip. No fewer than a dozen times did I have to hear Eric complain about our taking these breath-taking mountain passages rather than Highway 89 or 91.

We pulled into Waterville Valley at 5:30, ten hours and 290 miles (our longest one day trip ever) after leaving Brattleboro. Sore, fatigued and parched, we couldn't wait to jump in the river for some rejuvenation.

Typical of Eric, he had made no mention of the fact that Celia and he had arranged for a dinner party and that the guests were arriving at 7. Instead, during the course of the day, we talked about what we should do after we arrived. We discussed going for a swim, taking a bike ride and possibly going out to dinner in town or in Plymouth. It's not that he had forgotten about the dinner party. He intentionally omitted it from the discussion. I'm not quite sure why he does these things. Maybe its for the shock effect or maybe it's for some other reason. I'm not sure. It does however, keep our times together interesting.

I gave myself a pep talk about maintaining my energy for the evening. It turns out it took little effort. The dinner guests were lovely, a mid 70 yr old couple and their 17 yr old grandson Sam, who was visiting for the summer from Montana. They, Eric, Celia, Maggie and I covered a host of subjects and ended the evening by watching Sam's video-editing projects on YouTube. A very nice night from start to finish.

I crashed in bed around 11, I think. I am certain that I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

Today we are off for a day of fishing, swimming and camping on Moon island in Squam Lake. I can't wait.

Vermont in June

I should say that this is Eric starting off our blog for this Vermont trip. I want to Initially note that George's cousin, one of our most faithful readers, is in the hospital . I understand that it is not serious, but we wish you a speedy recovery. I don't know your first name as George just refers to you as "his cousin who loves the blogs" but he speaks highly of you. So get a bike and join us!

George rode out from Boston on his own. Originally, Celia's BMW was going to be a commuting bike but he finds he is too terrified to ride it on city streets, which is what I told him would happen. I can't believe he would ignore advice from me. So he is now back to riding this ridiculous moped with high rise handlebars to work. 

Still, he made it to Brattleboro in four hours while I travelled the same distance in about two. The difference? The interstate highway system which George avoids at all costs, preferring to navigate through death trap intersections and potholed filled urban roads. None of this makes sense and it certainly is not safe, but there is nothing I can say. He has never recovered for the trauma of high winds and trucks on interstate 15 in Nevada some four years ago as veteran readers will no doubt recall.

We had a nice dinner and overate at a restaurant called the Marina, right on a river in town. The usual nonsense ensued as George tried to entice our very shy server into a video clip on our blog. It is, I am afraid to say, alarming, to see the facial expressions of these invitee/servers as they struggle to find a pleasant way to say no to this peculiar elderly fellow who will also be responsible for leaving them a tip. I should be thankful that there was no repeat of the now famous "sans vetements?" ("no clothes?") incident last fall in Quebec. I do not sense that there is quite same tolerance for deviant (although admittedly innocent) behavior in the United States.o

-Eric

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Yesterday began early, at midnight, as it always does.   Except this time it was accompanied  by fire engines at my neighbors house with engines roaring and lights flashing.  I hopped out of bed, threw on my shorts, and ran out the door.  No need, the firemen and my neighbor were standing on the sidewalk chatting.  I didn't want to intrude and clearly their was no emergency so I went back to bed.

Unbelievably they returned at 3:15.  Same level of intrusion.  Still no fire. So much for a good night sleep.  At least the fire fighters were good enough not to use their sirens.

Got up at 5 to pack the bike, eat and get to work by 6:30 so that I could prepare for a couple of meetings.  

After first taking a shower I checked  my voice mail to find a message from one of my cousins.  She told me that another cousin (names intentionally withheld) was back in the hospital with a cardiac issue.  I can't believe he's having to deal with this again. He was at the same hospital seven months ago.  He is our most loyal reader and idea contributor.  I called him from the office.  Rather than come visit him, we agreed that I would  blog on this short weekend trip.  He has his laptop at the hospital.  Hopeful it will provide him some vicarious enjoyment.  If he is still in the hospital on Sunday I will visit him then.

I left work at 1:00 yesterday to go to physical therapy in West Roxbury before heading out to meet Eric in Brattleboro, VT at 6 pm.  Leaving PT at 3, and taking the back roads, I thought I could easily make it by 6.  No such luck.  I'll never trust Google Maps again.   It took me down rte 135 to 27 to 126 to 117 to 62 to 2.   However, after passing Maynard high school a second time, nearly 20 minutes after the first, I was not happy.  I tossed the Google directions and decided to follow my intuition.  From then on things were perfect, other than the accident and resulting traffic jam on rte. 2. (Thankfully Apple has decided to get rid of Google Maps in iOS 6.0 in favor of a solution from Tom Tom). I finally arrived at 7 pm, only to find Eric was lounging  by the pool, gloating about the fact that he beat me by an hour.  Everything's a competition.

after a quick shower, we hopped on his bike prepared to ride tandem to a restaurant.  We consulted with the front desk clerk about the best place to eat.  She recommend the Marina, .5 miles down the road.  We decided to walk.  I asked whether we could leave our helmets behind the counter. She offered a wry smile and responded "Yes, if you promise to take me for a ride later".   Kind of forward, don't you get.  I muttered some unintelligible babble and turned and left.  I hope I wasn't too rude.

Dinner on the outdoor poor overlooking a nice lake was a good way to end the evening, other than the more than occasional mosquito.  I had a bacon cheeseburger with fries, crispy and a Stone IPA.  I can't remember what Eric had but he wolfed it down.  We shared a toll house cookie ice cream chocolate sundae for desert.  Decadent!

Its now 6 a.m.  I've been lying in bed for an hour listening to Eric snore.  Hopefully he will wake up soon.

Despite a forecast of 90 degrees and bright sunshine, of course it is pouring rain outside.  The motorcycle gods having something against us.

Looking forward to a long ride up rte. 100, known by many as the prettiest ride in New England.

Talk to you tonight or tomorrow.

George