tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14045448668618773512024-02-07T17:18:12.995-07:00Dan's Motorcycle BlogWhen the going gets tough, the stupid keep going. . .Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-78822422505056364502014-05-17T20:33:00.001-06:002014-05-17T20:33:15.367-06:002014.05.17 - The "Moto Rodeo", or "How I nearly met my maker"<br />
My stupidity nearly ended it all today.<br />
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Today's post isn't a witty retelling of some fantastic motorcycle trip. Today is all about be stating "I knowingly failed to correct something and the results were nearly catastrophic." I don't have to share the embarrassing part of the story, but I think sharing my lack of attention to detail and the nearly disastrous results might help out another rider. (Skip to the end if you need to read about my embarrassment first).<br />
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I ran my Motorcycle sidecar rig off the interstate and into the median barrier this afternoon. Other than a massively bruised ego and some scratches and bruising (ATTGATT Baby!) I am fine. I think I'll hurt like hell tomorrow, but today I'm fine.<br />
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Bike is in OK shape too. Looks like time for a new front fender. We think the forks are still straight, but won't know until closer inspection. There's grass and dirt rammed into places that for the life of me I don't know how they got there. I think the front wheel is still true (truish), but again further inspection is required.<br />
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So here's the exciting part:<br />
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I was traveling in the right hand lane of northbound Interstate 25 at 55mph. The speed limit is 75mph, but traffic was fairly light and no one had trouble getting round me in the other lane. As a truck passed me on the left, I felt that queasy, wandering feeling you get as the first indication that a tire is going flat. As a truck had just passed me, I thought it might be just wind buffeting. However, a split-second later I got that feeling again and I knew a tire was going flat.<br />
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I slowly let up off the throttle and began to merge onto the hard shoulder. About halfway onto the shoulder, the bead of the front tire gave way and I totally lost control over the bike. The sudden loss of power caused the sidecar to try and pass the bike, forcing me back out into the traffic lanes. I tried to correct by steering to the right, but in no time I was back into the middle of the right lane, I had the handlebars at full lock right as the bike arced left. I had no way to know, other than hearing a horn blast and screeching tires, what was in the left lane as I ran across the lane and into the grassy median. Thankfully, there was no collision of metal and no grinding of flesh.<br />
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My eyes really widened as I approached the grassy median which slopes down to the center of the median at a Ural flipping angle. I managed to move my butt on over so I was sitting on the side of the hack tub when I went off. I think the hack left the ground, but I'm not certain. My eyes enlarged to the size of dinner plates as I slid down towards the meat grinder center median. We have those cable type of medians here that are suspended between steel posts planted about every ten feet or so. Absolutely wonderful for preventing careening vehicles from crossing over into the oncoming lanes, but a less than forgiving barrier for us motorbike types.<br />
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The last thing I wanted to do was to get caught between the bike and the barriers, so I rode the bull until a split second before the front wheel contacted it. Right then, I gave a little upwards jump on foot pegs and almost cleared the top of the handlebars as I went a$$ over tea kettle. I must have scrubbed off a good amount of speed before I hit the barrier because I came to rest on top of the cables just a foot or two past the bike.<br />
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The right-hand rear view mirror stalk was snapped off by my right arm. I've got a pretty good contusion from that. I have no idea what my right hand impacted, but I'll probably be losing the fingernail from my middle finger. I am pretty sure that at some point my right thumb was pointing in an unnatural direction, 'cause it is bruised and swollen right now. Other than than, I can feel my right shoulder is hurting.<br />
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Amazingly, There was nothing more than a small clod of dirt/grass on my helmet. My gloves look untouched, and I had to look really hard to find just a hint of abrasion on the right-hand sleeve of my riding jacket. My leather riding pants don't look any worse than when I put them on this morning. It's a day like today that makes all those less than pleasant hot and humid ATGATT rides of the past worthwhile.<br />
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OK, now on to the embarrassing part, and hopefully lesson-learned. I mounted a tire onto the brand new wheel I bought from Terry Crawford last week so that I could ride the Ural up to Unique Rides (Randy and Tammy) in Fort Collins today. My aim was to give them my old recalled (April 2012) warranty wheel and pick up my new one. I was 1/2 way to Unique Rides when I suddenly realized that I failed to install a rim strip onto the new wheel. Since I'd already ridden 50 miles of curving canyon I figured that the last 50 miles of flat straight road should not be a problem.<br />
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I am certain that the front wheel flatted because of that missing rim strip. So please fellow riders, don't embarrass yourself, or worse, like me. As soon as you realize you've got a deficiency, stop and fix it. Today could have ended a lot worse for me. Maybe I could have also caused one of those cars on the interstate to crash too, and caused someone else injury. I've learned my lesson the hard way. As John Wayne once noted "Like is hard. It's harder if you're stupid".<br />
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So there you have it. Careless oversight + failure to stop and fix it as soon as discovered = near death experience. And yes, even though there are no pictures, it really did happen. :)<br />
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One last note. I was only about 15 miles from Unique Rides when this happened. I called Randy and Tammy for help and Randy dropped what he was doing and brought his flat bed trailer over to extricate me. Later on he refused to accept payment for the recovery. They offered to drive me home; loan me a vehicle; whatever I needed. Randy and Tammy are first class!<br />
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I left the bike in Randy's capable hands for fixin'. He's also going to install the new spin-on oil filter conversion kit that I was also supposed to pick up today. Hopefully, I'll have three wheels under me before too long. Luckily, I have the Royal Enfield and the Yamaha to get me by until then.<br />
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Cheers,<br />
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Dan K.Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-58140718295495140942014-03-16T19:43:00.001-06:002014-03-16T19:43:10.173-06:002013.06.22 - 07.04 - The Big Ride - Colorado, New York, Canada and Return<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<h3>
<b><span style="color: yellow;">2013.06.22 - The Ride Begins</span></b></h3>
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The previous night I frantically completed the packing, re-packing, and final re-packing of the Ural sidecar rig. One of the great advantages to piloting a hack is the great amount of room available. One can literally pack the kitchen sink if necessary. The downside is that it is like a giant puzzle. Each time that I added or removed something, most of everything else had to be rearranged to accommodate the change. The process might have been more efficient if it hadn't been for the addition of the alcoholic lubricant I was using. Alas, I'll never know.<br />
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With everything finally in order and a mostly fitful night of tossing and turning behind me, I kissed Zeng Yuan goodbye and bumped and bounded down the dirt driveway at 7:30a on Saturday morning for my first long distance motorcycle trip in nearly 10 years. The plan: take some back roads from Colorado (Mostly U.S. 36 & U.S. 24) clear across the country to where my Dad lives in the Catskill Mountains of New York State. He lives in a sleepy little town that while located geographically only about 80 miles north of New York City it might as well be on a different planet than that huge neighbor to the south.<br />
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I've ridden more the 900 miles in a day before, even back-to-back days like that, but I've never tried it at <i>Ural Speed</i>. I've learned a lesson already. A long day in the Ural saddle is much more punishing than the equivalent mileage done on my Beemer. On Saturday, I made it from home (About 30 miles west of Denver) all the way to the eastern end of Kansas. I didn't quite escape the long, flat expanse, but I was close. The total was 542 miles for that first day. I pulled into and extremely convenient roadside rest stop at 10p.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/KansasBorder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/KansasBorder.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">You're not in Colorado anymore, Dorothy.</span></b></td></tr>
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The morning portion of the day's ride while still inside the rectangular confines of the Colorado border was quite pleasant. The temps were cool and no winds to speak of. Even though U.S. 36 is not too exciting, the Ural had no trouble putting along at 50 to 55 mph. Kansas unfortunately lived up to its reputation as hot, dry, and windy. All afternoon I endured riding with a hot blow dryer directed at me from a 45 degree angle. The Ural is usually pretty stable, but mine, loaded with camping gear and what-not was a little squirrelly with those side gusts periodically blasting me. By the time I quit for the day, my back muscles were screaming!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/GeoCenter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/GeoCenter.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: yellow; font-size: small;">One of the multiple places that claim to be the geographic center of the United States.</span></b></td></tr>
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<b><span style="color: yellow;">2013.06.23 - Kansas Adieu</span></b></h3>
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I rose this morning a 5:30a and managed to break camp. Skipping breakfast at camp and intending to stop somewhere and do some route planning, I motored out of the tranquil roadside rest at 6:30a. Ominously, there was a deep purple rain front closing in on me from the west as I left the rest area. I got a good bit ahead of it and stopped at Micky D's for breakfast. The weather front was relentless however, and took no such breaks. I barely spent all of about 3 minutes wolfing down some grub and taking a few gulps of coffee before tossing the remainder in the waste basket. I rushed out the door to get back on the road before the storm caught me up.<br />
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Continuing east on U.S. 36, I followed it through the last bit of Kansas, then all the way across Missouri. U.S. 36 in Missouri is a much nicer road than in Colorado or Kansas. I enjoyed a less windy morning and warm temps as I outpaced the storm. Before I knew it I was watching Hannibal, Missouri in my rear view mirror as I crossed the wide, mellow expanse of the Mississippi River into East Hannibal, Illinois.<br />
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Regrettably, I'd traveled about 30 miles into Illinois before I realized that I'd blown by the point where I wanted to turn north to pick up U.S. 24. Oh well. I took the opportunity to stop for a lunch break and a map check and plotted my way back up and east to pick up U.S. 24. I probably set myself back about an hour, but I did find some roads that were a nice ride and I never would have seen them otherwise.<br />
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As I rode more north than east at this point, the stalking storm front from this morning (Was it the same one? Looked just as purple) caught up with me again. Just as I was resigned to getting a soaking, I finally reached Route 24 and headed east as fast as those two cylinders and 40 h.p. could push me. Luck remained it seems, as although I saw lightning strikes off to my left, I never got more than a few fat rain drops on my visor. My speed was enough to outpace the storm again.<br />
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Route 24 through Illinois goes though rolling hills and expansive farmland. I didn't pay much mind as I motored east. I was only thinking about making the number of miles that I wanted to click off for the day. The Illinois/Indiana border slipped by in the early evening. I started smelling the barn and after stopping for dinner I queried the GPS for a place to rest for the night. After another day in excess of 525 miles, I was fried.<br />
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I'm sitting in a little mom & pop motel in Monticello, IN this evening. It's about 10:30p now. Got here about 1 hour ago and I'm working on beer number 2 as I type this. I am hoping that the weather will hold for me tomorrow. I am looking forward to reaching Ohio and western Pennsylvania as I remember that the back roads there are rarely straight-line.<br />
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I'm beginning to think that my plan to head north, then back west through Canada might be more ambitious than time will allow. I might have to curtail some of that leg of the trip, but I'll let things unfold as they may and see how it goes.<br />
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<b><span style="color: yellow;">2013.06.24 - Hot and Sticky!</span></b></h3>
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I knew what was in store for me this day as soon as I opened the motel room door. A flood of humid air wafted past me. I could barely see to the other end of the parking lot and the sun was a barely recognizable dim orb in the eastern sky. </div>
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I flicked on the local news station to listen to the weather report as I packed up the bike. 100% humidity and already more than 80 degrees and it wasn't even 7:30a yet! I am glad that I decided bring my mesh riding jacket for this trip instead of my heavier one! That didn't help me feeling any less of a wet dish rag as I hit the road this muggy morning however.</div>
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At my first gas stop of the day I made the mistake of looking at the pusher tire. Surprisingly, the tread was much more worn than I expected after less than 2,000kms! I put a brand new Uralshina Russian tire on there just two weeks ago and I had to stop this morning and swap it out. The tire looked as if the tread would not last long enough to finish out this day, so I am forced to ride for a while longer and make a stop to swap it out.<br />
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An hour or so later, I found a half shady spot to swap the wheel out. It was already about 90 degrees and probably the humidity level matched.<br />
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With a three-wheeled bike and the need to place certain tires into certain riding positions, swapping out the pusher wheel was a bit of a ballet. Well, more like a Keystone Cops routine really. You see, each of the three wheels on a sidecar bike wears out at a much different rate than the others. The pusher wheel goes fast because it gets the most scrubbing and spinning. The front tire usually lasts about twice as long as the pusher and the side car wheel lasts at least four times as long as the pusher. So my swapping plan required this:<br />
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<li>Remove the spare wheel (Which has a brand new tire mounted on it) from its storage position atop the hack's trunk. This of course requires removing all of the gear I have strapped on top of it in the cargo rack.</li>
<li>Jack up the sidecar and remove the wheel from the it. Temporarily install the spare wheel in the sidecar position.</li>
<li>Jack up the bike a second time and remove the pusher wheel, then install the erstwhile sidecar wheel into the pusher position.</li>
<li>Jack up the bike a third time and remove the temporarily installed spare wheel from the sidecar and replace it with what was the pusher wheel.</li>
<li>Remount the spare wheel back on top of the sidecar and repack all the gear I had stored on top of it in the gear rack.</li>
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Hopefully, you can now appreciate how much fun this process was as I baked and sweated for over an hour to do this. I was soaking wet by the time this process was completed. I took advantage of a nearby fast food outlet and grabbed some grub and air conditioned bliss before getting back on the road.<br />
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The roads of eastern Indiana were very nice to ride on. Rolling hills and farm land, but unlike the roads further west, there were actual curves on them. Before I knew it I was in Ohio. I learned also that Route 30 across most of Ohio is an Interstate highway in pretty much all aspects except there are at-grade road crossings. Some parts were pretty amazing and dangerous as cars tried to cross high speed traffic at the intersections.<br />
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When I got to the eastern edge of Ohio at Lisbon, it was time to turn north. I got caught in an awesome thunderstorm on this part of the trip. I thought that we have some seriously bad ones in Colorado. This one was unbelievable! I had little choice but to push on. For half an hour or so I felt more as if I were piloting a submarine, not a motorbike. My rain gear held the line as it came down in sheets. I was happily relieved when it ended.<br />
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Since I'd been riding on de facto Interstate most of the day anyway, I decided to jump on I-80 near Youngstown and headed east into Pennsylvania. Crossing that border was a real psychological milestone. For the first time I felt that I had ridden this Ural all the way east.<br />
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Interstate 80 and I departed ways as I turned north when I reached Barkeyville, Pennsylvania. This was the best part of the ride today. Steep hills and curving road and no traffic for the last 30 miles of the day. I rode through Franklin, PA. What an amazing little town. It looks like all of the old historic buildings have been preserved or renovated. The place is quintessential middle America. I wish I had time to actually explore that town.<br />
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That evening I wimped out again and got another motel room. Just 370 miles left to cover tomorrow to reach my Dad's house. The are nothing but two lane roads for at least half of that distance. I don't expect any amount of traffic, so I am really looking forward to it. After that, I will enjoy a couple of days rest at my Dad's place while I contemplate the next leg of the journey.<br />
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<b><span style="color: yellow;">2013.06.25 - Home Stretch</span></b></h3>
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Today was an excellent day of riding. Not only was it the easiest day yet (Only 370 miles or so), the riding in northwestern Pennsylvania was awesome. I highly recommend that area. I got to meet another Ural rider --CDScoot (Craig)-- up in Binghamton, New York. What a nice guy. He bought me lunch!<br />
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In the morning, while making my way north and east on the beautiful back roads of Pennsylvania, I nearly committed a crime! I stopped for fuel at a little country store. I've fallen into a little routine whenever I stop for gas. Not by design, but just by simple repetition. Swipe the pump; gas-up; walk around to the bike to check for things getting ready to fall off or fail; update the log book; saddle-up and ride.<br />
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This bucolic little trading post featured some old gas pumps that did not allow for paying at the pump. I went into the shop to see if I needed to pay first and was told to just pump, then come back in to pay. I returned to the bike and started my routine. While I was pumping, I was distracted by some curious fellow tourists who stopped to ask me about the Ural and my trip. It was a pleasant conversation that took place while I gave the bike the once-over looking for any faults.<br />
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I bid my interlocutors a farewell, and completed updating my log book. With the requisite gear adorned, I kicked the bike to life, checked the traffic on the road and pulled back onto the ribbon of asphalt.<br />
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There was not so much a town here, as a small settlement. It had everything one needs however. Adjacent river for fishing, swimming, etc. Gas station and convenience store for those essentials, and a small restaurant. I quickly passed through and was once again out on the open, twisting roadway. I was beginning to get back into my stride, when I was bothered by something. I couldn't put my finger on it at first and kept riding as I tried to fathom the feeling. You know that feeling if your a rider: "Did I leave something important laying about at that last stop?"<br />
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Suddenly, I realized what it was. I never returned to the little shop's counter to pay for my gas! I was already about 5 miles down the road when I realized this. As I executed a quick U-turn, I expected to see the local Sheriff screaming down the roadway towards me. I didn't though, and after a few anxious minutes I arrived back at the shop.<br />
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Sheepishly, I went back into the shop. The lady whom I'd spoken too when I fist arrived was no longer behind the counter. I approached the young lady who occupied that spot now and explained to her what I'd done. "Didn't you see her?" the clerk asked. "As soon as she realized you were gone, she jumped in her car to chase you." As no one had tried to run me off the road, I could only surmise that she had used her 50/50 chance incorrectly and headed down the road in the opposite direction as me.<br />
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I paid my tardy bill, and I waited around for 5 minutes in hope of apologizing, but she didn't arrive back in that time. So, I chalked it up to experience, jumped back on the bike, and headed on.<br />
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I followed those wonderful back roads for another few hours and slipped across the border into the southwestern tier of New York just before lunch time. CDScoot, otherwise known as Craig had offered to meet me for lunch in Binghamton. Since Binghamton is conveniently located right upon my route, I gave him a call and we arranged to meet.<br />
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Once of the great things about the Internet is that you can develop a relationship with folks whom you've never met. Especially in the motorcycling community, I feel that many of these ethereal are quite real. Meeting up with Craig was one of those instances where the cyber crosses over to the tangible. Here's two guys who've never met, but because of an on-line forum, already know each other.<br />
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Craig and I met for about an hour over lunch. Discussed the motorcycling; Urals specifically, and life in general. Generously, Craig picked up the tab for lunch. Unfortunately, he wasn't on his Ural this day, so there was no prospect of a rarely seen two Ural parade in Binghamton, NY. We parted ways with full stomachs and a new friend each.<br />
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Even though Route 17 is essentially an interstate highway, it is a very pleasant ride. There are no real straight stretches. It has lots of rising and falling and curving, and best of all, not much traffic. After about 35 miles of relaxing riding, I came to my last major change of direction for this portion of the trip.<br />
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Pulling off of Route 17 and onto Route 30 I could now smell the barn, so to speak. My most eastward destination was now only 40 miles or so distant. The weather had been wonderful all day, and although it threatened to rain on me during this last leg, I only came upon wet roadway and ominous clouds interspersed with golden shafts of bright sunlight.<br />
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The back roads of Pennsylvania and the southern tier of New York were a gift I most enjoyed. But now, as I rolled up in front of my Dad's house in Fleischmanns, a great feeling of self-satisfaction swept over me. Four days and nearly 2,000 miles of riding won't put me in any great company, but it still felt very good to reach my destination.<br />
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<b><span style="color: yellow;">2013.06.25-27 - R & R ?</span></b></h3>
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The 26th. was supposed to be a rest and maintenance day. No rest, but a little maintenance did happen. I got drafted early this morning to help my Dad with his renovations of the local American Legion chapter hall. It was nearly a total loss in the flooding they had last year. Since it is so old (1919) they decided to save it and the core members of the post are using their own labor to do everything.<br />
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This morning we drove up to Albany, NY using a U-Haul trailer graciously donated by the local U-Haul shop for the day. We drove the 90 minutes up there and 90 minutes back to pick up a bunch of tables and chairs that were also graciously donated by the owner of an office furniture refurbishment company up there. Let me tell you, I re-learned how humid it gets in this part of the country when it came time to load and unload those things.<br />
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In the afternoon, since I was already hot and sticky, I tackled the rubber change on the bike. I put the Heidenau K37 back on the sidecar and installed the new Uralshina on the pusher. That was another hot and sweaty job. Tomorrow I plan to do an oil change and transmission oil change. Then it's time to pack up the bike to be ready to head out on Friday morning. Right now the weather doesn't look to promising on Friday, but that's life.<br />
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That evening, my Dad and his wife; my sister and her daughter and boyfriend; and I all enjoyed a good dinner at the local country club. This area of the Catskill mountains is full of Country Clubs and Summer resorts. Although their heyday is long gone, they still cater to the wealthy folks who come up from the New York metro area in the Summer. Nice atmosphere and good food. I slept well that night.<br />
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Helped my Dad out again the next morning by delivering the Bingo machinery for their first Bingo night next week. They've been working on the American Legion Hall's renovations for a year sine the flood and enough of the building is presentable to try and bring in some revenue again. After that I finally found time to visit my Mom's grave site. I haven't been there since the day we laid her to rest in 1994. It sits on a perfectly peaceful mountainside with a wide vista of the surrounding mountains. R.I.P Mom.<br />
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I did the last prep for the next leg of the journey this afternoon. I knocked out the 22500 km service on the bike (An easy one) but still managed to end up as a wet sponge courtesy of the humidity here. (Glad I settled in Colorado. . . ) Replenished my food stores and packed as much as I could back on the bike. Pretty much ready to move out early tomorrow morning.<br />
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Thanks to Craig (CDScoot) he turned me on to an excellent route and I'll be travelling through the heart of Adirondack Mountain Park. Most people don't think past New York City whenever they hear "New York", but most of the state is rolling hills, mountains, and world class trout streams. Adirondack State Park, at more than 6 million acres is the largest park in the lower 48 states. I am looking forward to the ride.<br />
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Derek (Berger) up in the Ottawa, Canada area has graciously offered me some camping space and he is going to try to meet me at the border bridge that spans the St. Lawrence seaway at Ogdensburg, NY. Ural riders are awesome! <br />
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<b><span style="color: yellow;">2013.06.28 - Northward! Ho!</span></b></h3>
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Howdy all,</div>
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This day was a fantastic (wet) day of riding beautiful (wetter) roads up and down and around (really wet) mountains and valleys. OK, I'm being a bit over the top, but the day did include a lot of WETness.<br />
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I left my Dad's place at about 7:30a and the skies were ominous. He lives on the north western boundary of the Catskill Mountain Park in NY. For the majority of the ride today I was headed north and a little west. I was very lucky in the morning weather wise. Deep, dark clouds were everywhere, but seemingly impossible pockets of sunshine and blue sky shone through on me.<br />
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At least they did until I was about 2/3 of the way through the Adirondack State Park. The park is a wonderfully undeveloped place. There are a few roads traversing the park, supporting a even fewer small hamlets and villages, but the rest is essentially undeveloped. It is interested to look at a map of NY state. Roads are everywhere, but within the boundaries of this great park are only a half-dozen or so paved ways. The park is beautiful and I suggest to anyone who's never been in that area that it deserves a special trip just to experience it.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/ADKPark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/ADKPark.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">Entering Adirondack State Park in New York</span></td></tr>
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My luck finally ran out and it began to rain. For the rest of the day, the sometimes mist, sometimes splatter would be a constant companion. Even so, I enjoyed the ride immensely.<br />
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I arrived at the border to Canada about 4:15p. Derek (Berger) had previously texted me that he planned to ride out and meet me at the border crossing. I replied back that I would give him a pass on that as I didn't want him to have to ride out in the wet weather. He is intrepid however and declined the easy out. The bureaucratic gods decided to intervene and on the Canadian side of the border it was decided that I needed a thorough scrutinizing before I should be let loose on the Canadian public. <br />
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Derek graciously waited with me. After about 45 minutes of standing around and 2 minutes of actual interrogation I was set free. Derek lives about 80km from the border and led the way as we high-tailed it north. At one point, we stopped roadside and Derek asked me the strangest question I've heard in quite a while. To paraphrase: "Do you like beer?" Resisting a stinging reply upon the one who has granted me hospice this evening, I simply replied affirmatively. <br />
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A scant ten minutes later we were seated bar-side at what must be Derek's favorite haunt. I guess that because the bartender and the waitress both know his name and at least one couple walked up and knew him. It was a great micro-brew house. So much so that we brought home a growler of a very nice extra hopped ale with us when we left.<br />
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Just a few kilometers from our respite we arrived at Derek's home. It's a very nice mostly rural area where the homes are on large (maybe 1 acre or more) lots. Room in the garage for both bikes was no problem. My eye was immediately drawn to Derek's Pinzgauer. I've always wanted one of those (or a haflinger). We spent a few minutes talking about Pinzgauers (Derek knows my local Pinzgauer shop owner in Colorado--small world) as we peeled off our wet clothing.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/DereksHome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/DereksHome.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">Arrived at Derek's Home near Ottawa, Ontario, Canada</span></td></tr>
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Derek and his lovely wife Shelly are awesome hosts. A wonderful meal and good conversation followed next. We discussed how both Canadians and Americans hate political advertisements. We talked about Canadian government structure and its relationship to the British crown. We even talked about gun control too. It was an interesting evening of discussion.<br />
<br />
In the end, Derek convinced me that I should stay an extra day in Ontario so that I can experience some Ontario trail riding with him and his buddies the next morning. I think the alcoholic lubricant might have helped, but I didn't need too much convincing to stay. A great place and great people. Who'd want to leave?<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b><span style="color: yellow;">2013.06.29 - Trail Day</span></b></h3>
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<b><br /></b></div>
As Derek hinted, this day's ride was excellent and bordering on adventuresome. I had a feeling I'd be in for some fun when Derek invited me to stay an extra day to go riding with some folks he'd met through an ADVRider sub-group. I was not disappointed.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/OntarioRide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/OntarioRide.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">Meeting up for a day ride in near Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. MIke and Corey in the photo.</span></td></tr>
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The day started gloomy and misting as we met for breakfast not too far from Derek's home. Two other riders completed our little group. Both on two wheels. Mike, riding a DR650 and Corey riding a KLR 650. If I'm not mistaken, this was the first time Derek had met these two gents. Both guys were companionable and Mike had a route plotted out on his GPS that was a circular route crossing in and out of <i>Crown Land</i>. If I understood correctly, Crown Land is roughly equivalent to BLM or Forest Service land in the U.S.<br />
<br />
First off, the roads were loads of fun. Mostly gravel, they were smooth enough that we could keep our speeds up a bit, but with enough sharp curves thrown in to keep us on our toes. Some of the <i>unmaintained roads</i> were completely overgrown and very narrow, the overgrowth making them almost tunnel-like in some places. These roads were the best ones as they had the fewest straight stretches and lots of climbing and descending and tight radius turns. I wish we had more roads like this out in Colorado. Back home they tend to be too rough or rocky to keep up a spirited tempo.<br />
<br />
Most of the morning we were riding in the rain. My heretofore clean rig is now coated with dirt and mud and a gray slurry compliments of the area's limestone makeup. My bike looks like a proper transcontinental traveler now! During the course of the day we stopped at an excellent local race track to ogle the high-speed sport bikes. This is an excellent facility. We don't have anything like it in Colorado. Our tracks are run down and decidedly second class to the Calabogie circuit.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/Calabogie2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/Calabogie2.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-size: small;">Track cars at Calabogie Race Circuit</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/Calabogie1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/Calabogie1.jpg" height="338" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">Calabogie Race Circuit</span><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After that short stop, we hit the trails again and managed to survive a number of pretty deep muddy water holes. We were pretty much done for the day and heading for the barn when Mike pulled to the side of the road just past the entrance to another unmaintained road. After a quick discussion, we pulled a U-turn and headed onto the road. Ominously, this was the first road we'd been on today where I noted the "Use at your own risk" sign.<br />
<br />
The roads was really wet (As were most today) as its been raining up here for a few days already. Although it had finally stopped raining on us a couple of hours ago, this road featured quite a few deeply rutted and water filled sections. I made a mental note to myself after we descended a pretty wet and steep section that I don't think the Ural would be able to climb back up if we had to back-track to get out.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/OntarioQuarry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/OntarioQuarry.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">Limestone Quarry, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Ontario, Canada.</span></td></tr>
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Mike and Derek alternately led the trail and I used the opportunity to carefully watch how they each tackled water obstacle after water obstacle. In one tricky section Derek's bike got bogged down when he tried to make a crossing on the left-hand edge of the hole only to find out that the center was very deep. His hack dropped down precipitously and his pusher wheel, which was lacking for tread, was levered up and lost traction. Undaunted, Derek jumped right into the water up to his thighs and began to push and pull. Mike and I were a little less enthusiastic about jumping in, but we both managed to add some grunt without going for a swim and together we got the bike out of the hole fairly quickly.<br />
<br />
Continuing down the trail we attacked and conquered multiple troughs and sinkholes. When we were within a 1/4 mile of the end of the trail we came to the mother of all water filled ego-eaters. My view was partially blocked by the overhanging tree branches, so I did not see how Mike successfully crossed. I got a better view as I inched forward behind Derek as he prepared to launch. Mike was videoing Derek's crossing and I thought there was a second where he'd lost too much momentum to make it over. Derek saved it however with a heroic effort and made it to the other side. Me? Not so much. . .<br />
<br />
Of course, I decided to mimic Derek's path across the abyss. I figured if he made it, I should be able to also. With a twist of the wrist and a noble standing-on-the-pegs stance, I was off. Things were looking rosy until I got to the deepest section. In a flash, it was all over. The Ural's convenient forward facing air scoop proved to be just as efficient at sucking in the thicker brown fluid below me instead of air. <br />
<br />
Now it was my turn to jump into the muck. Stoically I absorbed the cold wet embrace of muddy water as it slowly filled my shoes and added tend pounds of weight to the bottom half of my cowhide riding pants. Oh, the humiliation! Without even waiting to be asked, Mike and Derek dove in beside me and in a quick minute we had the bike back on dry land.<br />
<br />
I'd hoped it wouldn't be too bad. Hope was not enough. A quick check using the kick starter revealed that there was indeed water in that space that only air and gasoline are supposed to mix. What followed was 45 minutes of grunting and sweating, and a few curses, as we worked to expel the viscous brown sludge from the heart of the beast.<br />
<br />
Spark plugs out; Air cleaner assembly uncovered; greasy brown water sopped up out of the air cleaner box; Carburetors drained and wiped out. For once I was carrying a spare air filter ready to go, so I was good there. I was disheartened by the amount of water that was spitting out of the spark plug holes. This is a new experience for me. Mike observed that the spark plug holes are in the most inconvenient location when the time comes to empty water out of the engine.<br />
<br />
After things seemed sufficiently dry, the bike started right up and idled smoothly, but completely bogged down as soon as the throttle was applied. We scratched our collective heads for a few minutes. Drained the carb bowls one more time; No improvement. Derek postulated that perhaps my air filter was over oiled. Mike mentioned that one of the jets might have gotten some crud sucked into it. After unfastening the air filter box top and cracking it open, I restarted the bike and it began to run normally again. I've no idea why, but I counted my blessings, refastened the cover and off we rode.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/DerekOntarioTrail.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/DerekOntarioTrail.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">After the flood. Derek laughs while I tinker.</span></td></tr>
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Since I'm in the middle of a two week sojourn, I was really worried at this point. However, as soon as we moved a short distance, I could tell that the motor was performing no worse than it had previous to ingesting the witches brew. We three headed back to town and I had no trouble reaching speeds in excess of 60 mph and the motor didn't miss a beat.<br />
<br />
Mike peeled off for home when we hit town, and Derek and I made a beeline for the ubiquitous Canadian Tire store where I picked up a few quarts of oil and some gasoline water treatment for added good measure. We stopped for gas across the road and the two attendants inside the station were both Russians. After noting that I'd pumped 93 octane fuel into the Ural's tank, the taller one told me I was wasting my money as the Ural doesn't need anything higher than 72. Where he got that number from I can't imagine, but this was one time I wasn't interested in any Ural conversation. I was wet from the waist down and soaked with sweat from the waist up. I replied "No kidding?" and beat a hasty course out the door.<br />
<br />
Back at Derek's home, it was time to get that nasty muddy water/oil mix out of the crank case. As I'd done just this only two days prior, I didn't really get my money's worth out of those two liters of oil. I was happy to see that the oil still draining out of the motor still looked like golden honey, so I don't think any water got into the crank case. Even so, new lube went in.<br />
<br />
I then spent the next hour or so emptying all of my gear out of the sidecar and trunk and sopping up the water that had seeped up into them via the conveniently located <i>drain holes</i> in the bottom of the hack. Mission accomplished, everything is re-stowed. The bike is filthy, but serviceable. And that is all I will need when I turn the key tomorrow morning to continue my journey west.<br />
<br />
Derek and Shelly have been incredible hosts to this wandering vagrant. While I was getting reorganized, Shelly was working in the kitchen alchemizing another excellent meal. I am really indebted to them for their hospitality. Thanks to Derek I've seen parts of Ontario that I never would have experienced otherwise.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow the journey continues. I have the feeling it will be less adventurous from this point on.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b><span style="color: yellow;">2013.07.01 - Across Canada</span></b></h3>
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<b><br /></b></div>
I left Derek and Shelley's house Sunday morning the 30th. of June at about 9a. The bike was running fine despite the prior day's nautical adventure and the weather finally began to break. The morning was cool and the traffic clear as I merged onto Route 17. This two lane road stretches clear across Ontario Province and beyond. I never realized how large Ontario is. It is huge! Conveniently, the maximum speed limit on this road is only 90kph. Right in the Ural's sweet spot (Most of the time). Although it is only two lanes, there are multitudes of passing lanes along its length. Probably every 10 or 15 km there is one, so the traffic does not build up too badly behind me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/LeavingDereksHome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/LeavingDereksHome.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">Leaving Derek and Shelly's Home on July 1st.</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/LeavingDereksHome1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/LeavingDereksHome1.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">Back on the road.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I passed through some really nice areas, especially the area near Algonquin Provincial Park and Lake Nipissing. There must have been a forest fire active somewhere near my route as a large part of the morning the sky was tinted a smoky tan and the sun overcast. I saw numerous fire trucks running east a number of times.<br />
<br />
The bike was running fine and the miles slid by, albeit at a leisurely pace. I decided this day would be a good one to break out the camping gear again, so when I spied a bucolic campground near the road side at Iron Bridge, Ontario, I swung a U-turn and headed in at about 8p. The thought of a hot shower and a relaxing meal made the 404 miles that I traveled this day melt away. After showering and eating a quick meal, the mosquitoes chased me into the tent at about 9:30p, and I spent the next hour and a half watching the balance of film <i>Skyfall</i> on the iPad. I'd started watching it while at Moab with the CZAR group meet in Moab, Utah back in April. I figured I should use the iPad at least once during this trip since I carted it all this way.<br />
<br />
This morning I awoke at 6:30p. The mosquitoes were still thick early. I'd hope the cooler temp would keep them down, but they were literally lining the no-see-um netting on the tent. That made breakfast a movable feast. I had to keep walking around to out pace the mosquitoes! With everything packed up again it was out on the road at 8:45a. <br />
<br />
Have you ever had that feeling? As you pull out of the campground in the morning? A morning cool and clear and sunny; a sparkling clear face shield devoid of yesterday's bug build-up. Awesome.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/CARestStop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/CARestStop.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-size: small;">Unknown Rest Stop in Canada.</span></td></tr>
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This day's general destination was Thunder Bay, Ontario. Today was also the first time I experienced a problem that was not self induced. It could have been a show-stopper for this trip, but thanks to what was essentially an afterthought I was OK. While passing through Sault St. Marie, the bike suddenly lost power. I coasted to the side of the road and as soon as I looked down I could see the problem. The carburetor compliance fitting on the right-hand cylinder had a big split right in the top of it. Nearly split in half! The carburetor was hanging off of the cylinder head by a thin thread of rubber. That makes it tough for a proper stoichiometric mixture of fuel and air to enter the cylinder!<br />
<br />
I was saved by one of my Ural rules. Whenever something on the bike breaks, I replace it and I purchase another one to carry on the rig as a spare. Well, my left-side compliance fitting had split a few months earlier, so I'd picked up a spare. Significantly, I originally did not intend to carry it with me on this trip, but at the last minute threw it in my spares box. I am really glad I did. I doubt I could have bodged a fix on the road side as it was so badly torn. Who knows how long it would have taken to get a replacement sent out. After 15 minutes of unloading things so I could get at the tools and 2 minutes of actual work I was on my way west once again.<br />
<br />
Let me tell you, the western end of Ontario was some really spectacular. The road follows along near the northern shores of Lake Superior. The section in Lake Superior Provincial Park and later on between Marathon and Nipigon (About 100 km) were winding and climbing and diving near the shores of the lake and had many excellent vistas.<br />
<br />
Today's ride ended after 524 miles in the small town of Kakabeka, Ontario. The sun was falling and the low angle made it impossible to the see the roadsides. I'd seen too many warning signs today about colliding with moose in the dark. In fact, I finally saw a moose today but sadly it was a roadside victim and not the majestic sight I'd hoped for.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow's plan is to continue west for another 200 miles or so until I reach the border crossing at Ft. Frances, Ontario/International Falls, Minnesota where I will return to U.S. soil once again.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b><span style="color: yellow;">2013.07.02 - Across the Border</span></b></h3>
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<b><br /></b></div>
I passed back into USA Land at about 12p this day. Stopped for lunch on the road about 60 miles southwest. I spent some time plotting a course back to home. WiFi is a wonderful thing for travelers. This restaurant has it and Google Maps is my best friend..<br />
<br />
Another day marked off of this ride. I made it to Pelican Rapids, Minnesota this evening.<br />
<br />
I packed up and left at about 8:30a this decidedly cold morning in Kakabeka, Ontario. I was using the heated jacket all morning. The sky was clear and blue and there was nothing but open road ahead. After 30 miles or so I departed off of route 17, which was my constant companion for the last 1,100 miles or so and hooked a left onto Route 11 towards St. Frances and my intended border crossing into the USA.<br />
<br />
This portion of the ride was just shy of 200 miles. My GPS's insistence that I was on the wrong road, coupled with the fact that during the first 30 miles of travel I did not see any sign of habitation made me wary. No other traffic passed me in either direction. As it was almost 200 miles to the destination, I started to get spooked about the availability of gas. Even with my spare gas can there's no way I'd get that far.<br />
<br />
I pulled over at a convenient stop and perused the maps and futzed with the GPS a bit. I finally decided I was on the correct route and there appeared to beat least one town along this route that should have fuel. I traveled on and put it out of my mind. Later on, as I approached the vicinity of Atikokan, there was a small roadside building with gas pumps outside. I figured this must be the place and I pulled up to the pumps. To my surprise there was only two flavors: Diesel and Regular gasoline. I wasn't real keen on putting Regular into the Ural, so I balked and rode on. Luckily for me, I was actually still a few miles from the turn-off for the town. I eventually found good gas there.<br />
<br />
Being from Colorado, I'm used to seeing lots of <i>Continental Divide</i> watershed signs on the tops of passes. As I continued along Route 11, I saw a very similar sign by the side of the road. At first, I just blew by it. A few second later, realizing that there was no discernible rise in the roadway at that point, I got curious. I decided to back track and check it out. It turned out to be something I didn't expect.<br />
<br />
It was a watershed sign, but not the east-west Atlantic-Pacific ones I've seen many times before. This one proclaimed <i>ARCTIC WATERSHED - From here all streams flow north into the Arctic Ocean.</i> I figured that one was photo worthy, so I dug out the camera and took a few snaps. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/ArcticWatershed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/ArcticWatershed.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">Crossing the Divide.</span></td></tr>
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The rest of the ride to St. Frances was uneventful, but beautiful. As I got closer to the town the road once again came close to the shoreline give one some very nice views of the small islands close by shore and the expanse of water beyond. So close, yet so far, was the United States less than a mile across the water.<br />
<br />
At just about noon I arrived at the border control point. Unlike my experience getting into Canada a few days ago, it was quick and easy to leave. The only eyebrow I raised was when the border officer asked me how I got into Canada in the first place. I told him I rode the bike in. He seemed not to believe me and asked me a second time. Is it really so unusual? The next words were "OK, you may proceed" I don't need to be told twice, so I was off like a shot.<br />
<br />
Next stop, gas. I'd been paying the equivalent to nearly CA$6.00/gallon for gas in Canada. The average was CA$1.40 to CA$1.60 per liter. I can't believe I was happy to pay US$4.09/gallon in International Falls. <br />
<br />
It's amazing how the character of the landscape changed so completely on the south side of the border. Once again I was riding on mostly straight roadway with a wide vista of plowed fields in all directions. One thing I hadn't expected was the sheer number of <i>Resorts</i> in Minnesota. It seemed like every few miles there was yet another lake and yet another resort attached to it. <br />
<br />
Luckily for me, International Falls seemed to be the starting point for the only road in Minnesota which doesn't run east-west or north-south. US 71 runs diagonally to the southwest. This was just the direction I wanted to go to eventually intercept the Colorado state line in a few days. Travelling along, I came upon some thunder showers but was again lucky. Twice I was going to pull over and put on the rain gear and both times the rain abruptly stopped. Nice.<br />
<br />
The miles continued to tick off as I mulled over the decision to camp or get a motel room. I was beginning to tire and started looking. The GPS showed nothing but "resorts" anywhere. Nothing was along the road and all required a detour of at least a few miles to reach. I just kept riding hoping to stumble upon something roadside. Eventually I came upon the town of Pelican Rapids and the first thing I saw was the Pelican Motel. Right out of 1961 and lacking the usual run down look of most Mom & Pop motels these day. A quick check of a room; a reasonable rate; and Wi-Fi. I'm sold.<br />
<br />
Check off another 434 miles. . .<br />
<br />
<div>
<h3>
<b><span style="color: yellow;">2013.07.03 - Ride the Wind!</span></b></h3>
</div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
Boom! Suddenly I'm back in the West! It sneaked up on me when I wasn't looking. One minute I was riding the southwestern part of Minnesota. Rolling hills, lots of trees, many, many lakes. Then I crossed the border into North Dakota. Worse, I went south and west and entered South Dakota. Where are the trees? Why is there so much Wind? Yes, I'm back!<br />
<br />
OK, a bit over the top, but the change in geography is fairly sudden. I was battling winds from the south all day. As I crossed North and South Dakota, all the roads run roughly east-west and north-south. Heading south I was being beaten badly every time a semi-tractor passed me in the opposing direction. It was like hitting a wall of air each time. Regardless, I was lucky again and the weather was fine all day. Not even any afternoon thunderstorms to deal with today.<br />
<br />
I thought I might try to make it all the way to Rapid City, South Dakota today. That would put me with in one day's striking distance of home. As I rode, fighting the wind, I began to get fatigued. Not only that, at my last gas stop, I checked the pusher wheel and the tire tread was just about gone. This means its time to do the tire ballet again.<br />
<br />
Just past the gas station, I saw a sign that meant Rapid City was no longer in today's plan. The sign read <i>Belvidere KOA - 15 miles.</i> At this point that was all I had to see. Even though this would be 15 miles out of the direction I planned to go, there was no question. I pulled the bars to the left and ignored the GPS's assertions and headed south.<br />
<br />
I was all set for another night of camping. However, when I realized the cost of the comfy KOA cabin was only $15 more than a tent site, I didn't think twice. No time spent setting up and breaking down camp would be worth it. Plus, I had to take time to change the pusher wheel out so I'd have more time for that. To add a bonus, I also realized that I'd finally crossed back into the Mountain Time Zone, so I got myself a free hour to boot. The icing on the cake was when I walked into the little cabin. Air conditioning! Cable TV! KOA has changed since the last time I camped at one. And if you haven't already surmised. They have WiFi too.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/KOACamp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/KOACamp.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">KOA Belvidere Campground.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Unpacking the hack tub took all of 5 minutes interrupted by the 1 minute it took me to open the first beer. Then it was on to swapping out wheels. I'm not happy unless my life is more complicated than necessary so that process required me to remove the side car wheel (Drink some beer), then install the spare wheel onto the side car (Drink some beer). Then remove the pusher wheel (Drink some beer). Then install the erstwhile sidecar wheel into the pusher position (Drink some beer). Remove the sidecar wheel again (Drink some beer) and put the old pusher wheel in that position (And the bottle is empty). I made it even more interesting by doing it on a slightly sloped grassy surface. Oh, the joy. . .<br />
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So now, I only have one task left that I need to do early tomorrow. Time for another oil change. I've got 1 quart of oil already, but I need 2 and I'm also sans drain pan. I'm hoping that the nearby Interstate 90 interchange will provide what I need. I'll deal with that in the morning.<br />
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This day the bike hummed along without missing a beat. Another 426 miles on the clock and on my butt. Nearing the end of this trip, but still looking forward to more.<br />
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It done! It's in the bag!<br />
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I arrived home in Colorado about 7:30p this evening. After a shower and a beer and a good meal made by my wonderful wife Zeng Yuan, I have a few minutes to sit down and record today's events.<br />
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What can I say? How about <i>Today was perfect!</i><br />
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For some reason I woke up this morning earlier than any other day on this trip. I was out of the sack at 5:30a. In keeping with all other mornings, whether camping or in a motel, it took me 1 1/2 hours to pack up and hit the road. The weather this morning was clear with a little breeze and warm enough that all I needed was a pull-over underneath my mesh riding jacket. <br />
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My first priority for this morning was to change the motor oil on the bike. I'm only about 125 km over the interval, but I plan to do about another 750 km today. The KOA I stayed at was within a mile of an I-90 interchange. I'd hoped to pick up another quart of oil and do the change in the parking lot, but there was only a single service station there and they didn't have any 20/50. So I continued on my way and about 20 miles down the road I had to exit and head south anyway. There were multiple stations at this interchange and one had the 20/50 I needed.<br />
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I purchased the oil and a 1 gallon jug of drinking water and headed around to the back of the service station. It was out of sight and out of the wind and sun. I'm sure I am not the first one to think of it, but the gallon jug of water makes a perfect oil drain pan. I cut off the top 25% of the jug, leaving part of the molded in handle intact. I used the bottom portion as the drain pan. I didn't bother changing the oil filter (I'll do that at home tomorrow) so this was a real quick change. 15 minutes tops. Leaving the jug handle intact made the handle portion a perfect pouring spout for me to drain the old oil into the empty 1 qt. containers I now had. I discarded the empty water jug and packed the old oil on the bike and was on my way.<br />
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Yesterday, Notus was my enemy, bashing me with stiff headwinds most of the afternoon. Today, it was the turn of Boreas. But Boreas was on my side. His stiff winds are from the north and these pushed me along mightily! I haven't done my gas miles check for today's riding. I will no doubt find today's gas mileage the best of the entire trip. For certain portions of the ride the north winds were just about equal to my fairly consistent 55 mph speed and it was as if I were just floating along the road. There was barely any discernible air movement around me. Quite a surreal effect. The winds were so strong, as I approached Scottsbluff, Nebraska, the entire town was barely visible in the distance as a giant dust cloud filled the air as far as the eye could see. Again, luck was on my side as I had to skirt around the east side of town and the air was clear.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/SoDakHorses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/BlogPhotos/SoDakHorses.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: lime; font-size: small;">Wild (?) Horses, South Dakota</span></td></tr>
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Surprisingly quickly, I was over the border and into Wyoming. I was starting to see familiar landscapes and for the first time I could finally see the distant 10,000' peaks of the Continental Divide west of Cheyenne. What a great sight! I was now less than 150 miles from home. A quick fill-up in Cheyenne and I was on I-25 heading south. Just a few short miles and I crossed the border into Colorado. What a great feeling to cross that line. Now I was closer to the mountains and for the first time I could see the snow which covered the upper reaches high above the tree line. I was home.<br />
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I bailed off the Interstate as soon as I could and took the back roads diagonally south and west towards Boulder, Colorado. Boulder is the home of my Alma Mater and the gateway city to the canyon that would take me the final 25 miles to my doorstep. As I climbed the canyon and then turned off on to the notoriously steep Magnolia road, the rush of cold air coming down from on high held a deep scent of rainfall. I thought for once that I would not dodge this storm, but for the last time I was lucky with the weather and I was only hit with a few drops. The cold air however still forced me to pull over and add a layer of clothing. The last 15 miles or so are almost all familiar dirt roads for me. Well worn curves and turns that can catch the uninitiated off guard--evidenced by skid marks in the dirt at well known places.<br />
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Finally, I made the last turn into my little mountain subdivision. Up the final dirt road. Around the final bend. And up the driveway. Finally. A couple of beeps of the horn and Zeng Yuan came rushing out of the house to greet me. That first embrace was just what I needed as the perfect end to today's 468 miles. The perfect end to this trip's 4,363 miles. I'm home. . .<br />
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<b><span style="color: yellow;">2013.07.06 - Tallying the Cost</span></b></h3>
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I spent yesterday unloading the bike and doing some of the chores that have built up about the house over the past two weeks. This morning I sat down to do some gas mileage calculations for the trip. As I expected, my mileage is lower than what I normally get running around Colorado, but not much so. The bike was loaded down and and had two extra spare tires and cargo strapped on and out in the wind.<br />
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I saved all my gas receipts and wrote the mileage on them each time I filled up. Unfortunately, I discovered that a few of the Canadian ones didn't print the number of liters I purchased. Also, there were a few stops where I got no receipt, so my end figures don't include all possible data, but the large majority of it.<br />
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Best tank: 34 mpg<br />
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Worst Tank: 13.5 mpg - I'm not 100% certain I didn't write the miles on this one down wrong as it is way off the others.<br />
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Average for the entire 4,364 miles: 27.22 mpg<br />
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Three worst tanks: 13.5; 21.2; 22.8 mpg - All were in Kansas as I headed east with a very strong wind hitting me from the front and side at a 45 degree angle<br />
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Three best tanks: 34; 33.24; 31.6 mpg - All were on the final day as I had a strong tail wind pushing me along.<br />
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Gas averaged about US$5.40 per gallon while in Canada. Ouch! I don't plan to calculate exactly what I spent on gas for the trip as it might be too depressing to know. As an aside, I chose 3 of my credit cards to use for the trip to better track expenses. I called all three creditors to let them know I'd be travelling so they wouldn't flag the cards for fraud. I also checked the international transaction fee that each charges (A total rip-off in my opinion, but unavoidable) Every card company I called told me their fee was 3% of the transaction, except for USAA, which only charges 1%. So I used that card in Canada. <br />
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I put about $622 in charges on the card I used to get me from Colorado to New York State and $512 on the card I used while in Canada. When I crossed back over the border into Minnesota I started using my regular REI Visa card again, but haven't gotten the charges sorted out yet. That'll probably be about another $300 or so. So all told, this trip cost me about $1,500 or so. Do you remember the days when we could fill our bike's gas tank for less than $5.00?Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-90993670544354295252013-05-04T18:41:00.002-06:002013-05-04T18:41:54.741-06:002013.04.21 - 27 - Moab, Utah with the Colorado Zidecar Adventure Riders (CZAR)<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Every year a loose-knit group of Ural sidecar riders heads out to Moab, Utah in the Spring to ride trails and tell lies. Having been to Moab many, many times on two wheels and four, I'd never joined the group before. This year I decided to succumb</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to the temptation and ride out.</span></div>
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The morning of 21 April 2013 was crisp and a bit on the cold side, but sunny just the same. My heated jacket, gloves, and even socks were plugged in and doing their thing nicely when I arrived in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Idaho_Springs,_Colorado">Idaho Springs, Colorado</a> at 8am. I live about 20 miles north of this old mining and hot springs town which straddles Interstate 70 about 20 miles west of Denver.</div>
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Our group had agreed to meet at this convenient location to begin our group ride to Moab. <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">John Spatafora and his wife Cookie; Darrell Spitzer, his wife Piper and their son Licari; Tim Laughlin and I met up; fueled up; and ate-up at the McDonald's restaurant on the east end of town.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's the ride map for today. Approximately 325 miles.</span></div>
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=idaho+springs&daddr=US-50+W+to:US-6+BUS+E%2FOld+US+Highway+6+%26+50+to:Unknown+road+to:Unknown+road+to:UT-128+to:US-191+N&hl=en&geocode=FRhsXgIdeP21-SlVbhvJJaVrhzFoP1-R4pqe-w%3BFaTyVQIdjuqD-Q%3BFfVnVgIds0-A-Q%3BFWC7UwIdU8V9-Q%3BFeafUgIdJ-R7-Q%3BFVcGTQIdXQR4-Q%3BFTYPTgIdaVd2-Q&aq=0&oq=fruita&sll=38.673181,-109.720116&sspn=0.213627,0.445976&mra=dme&mrsp=6&sz=12&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=39.376772,-107.808838&spn=4.076038,7.03125&z=7&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br /><small><a href="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=idaho+springs&daddr=US-50+W+to:US-6+BUS+E%2FOld+US+Highway+6+%26+50+to:Unknown+road+to:Unknown+road+to:UT-128+to:US-191+N&hl=en&geocode=FRhsXgIdeP21-SlVbhvJJaVrhzFoP1-R4pqe-w%3BFaTyVQIdjuqD-Q%3BFfVnVgIds0-A-Q%3BFWC7UwIdU8V9-Q%3BFeafUgIdJ-R7-Q%3BFVcGTQIdXQR4-Q%3BFTYPTgIdaVd2-Q&aq=0&oq=fruita&sll=38.673181,-109.720116&sspn=0.213627,0.445976&mra=dme&mrsp=6&sz=12&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=39.376772,-107.808838&spn=4.076038,7.03125&z=7" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">John (Known as Spat) was riding his white <a href="http://www.imz-ural.com/">Ural</a> Patrol. Cookie drove the truck pulling the trailer with their two Suzuki dual sport bikes on it. Darrel rode his Patrol while Piper rode hers; Licari was riding shotgun in the cushy sidecar. Tim was riding his Patrol and I my Gear Up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The climb up to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eisenhower%E2%80%93Johnson_Memorial_Tunnel">Eisenhower tunnel</a> is steep and long. The tunnel is up at over 11,100 feet. Our Urals, sporting only about 40 h.p. each, were slogging up the road in the right-hand lane, accompanying the tractor trailers in the slow march to the summit.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Passing through the tunnel is always a demarcation point for me. From this point you are really in the Rocky Mountains. And as every motorcycle rider knows, the best roads are never the Interstate Highway, the best roads are small, forgotten back roads. I-70 for the next 125 miles is the exception to that rule. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even though the Urals are comparatively slow, the traffic is manageable and I-70 winds its way through some really spectacular scenery.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We were in for a bit of a shock as we were spit out of the west end of the tunnel. Although the sky was still sunny, the wind, mixed with what looked like a healthy snowfall from the previous night, conspired to make the steep 10 mile ride down the west side of the divide quite exciting.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The road was covered in deep slush. It didn't take more than a mile for me to regret not stopping to put on my rain gear. Myself and my bike were coated in a quarter inch of rime ice by the time I got to the bottom. The steep descent had us wending our way around tractor trailers which threw up nice big waves of wet slush. I must say this was not the way I wanted to start a week's worth of riding.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="422" src="http://ColoradoPeaks.net/PostedPhotos/Moab2013/Moab001.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Spat and Cookie discussing the conditions after they safely made it down the west side of the Continental Divide near Frisco, Colorado (Photo Tim Laughlin)</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Luckily, the conditions improved substantially and my spirit lifted equally. We endured one more steep climb as we chugged past Copper Mountain Ski Area at 9,712' and up to the summit of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vail_Pass">Vail Pass</a> at about 10,600'. The west side of Vail Pass is even steeper than the west side of the divide, but now we had a much drier road.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From this point until we reached Glenwood Canyon, it was smooth sailing. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interstate_70_in_Colorado">Interstate 70 through Glenwood Canyon</a> is one of the great road engineering feats in our state. This section of the Interstate was the last piece to be finished. Due to engineering problems and environmental constraints it wasn't finished until 1992.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The canyon opens up again at Glenwood Springs. Glenwood Springs is best known for its multiple naturally fed hot springs pools. The picturesque town has many building dating back 100 years or more and also has some interesting spelunking opportunities.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We continued on. The Interstate lives up to its more mundane reputation the further west we ride. Additionally, a bit of a head wind has me working hard to keep up with the group. I recently fabricated a mountain bike carrier for my rig. It seems that the added air drag of the bike is noticeable.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We rode the interstate most of the way. At <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fruita,_Colorado">Fruita, Colorado</a>, best known to me as a mountain biking gateway and basically the last inhabited stop on I-70 in Colorado, we bailed and took old U.S. 6 across the border into Utah. U.S. 6 used to be the main east-west road across Colorado until the interstate highway was completed. Now the sections that are left mostly serve as local access along the interstate corridor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The condition of the road clearly shows its status. West of Fruita just a few miles the road is these days used only for local ranch access. Consequently, I don't think they put too much money into maintaining it. Without gross exaggeration the road is more patch than original surface!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We took old U.S. 6 to it's terminus and dodged under I-70 to join up with the paved road that heads south and west toward the popular whitewater rafting put-in at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Westwater_Canyon">Westwater</a>. Just shy of Westwater we dove off the tarmac and onto the dual-track dirt road that is part of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kokopelli_Trail">Kokopelli Trail system</a>. We followed that about 20 miles or so weaving up and down the undulations and washes.</span><br />
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<a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/Moab2013/Moab002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="420" src="http://ColoradoPeaks.net/PostedPhotos/Moab2013/Moab002.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kokopelli's Trail dumped us out near <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cisco,_Utah">Cisco, Utah</a>. Cisco is essentially a ghost town. There are some signs of life, but not the kind of life I'd like to live. Cisco does have a claim to fame however. It served as one of the filming locations for 1991's <i>Thelma and Louise.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just west of Cisco a few miles <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Utah_State_Route_128">Utah Route 128</a> starts to head south and west as it wends its way down to the Colorado River where the two cross at Dewey Bridge. Dewey Bridge was once the longest suspension bridge in Utah. Sadly, its listing on the <i>National Register of Historic Places</i> couldn't save it from a child playing with matches at the nearby campground. The bridge's wooden planking burned in 2008. Today, only the suspension cables and girders remain.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We continued down the winding and increasingly picturesque river road for about another 30 miles until it abruptly ends at an intersection with U.S. Route 191 at the northern end of Moab. Route 128 is a road that one must see in person to appreciate. I can't recommend it enough.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our accommodations awaited us at the Archview Resort about 9 miles north of Moab on U.S. 191. Although the term <i>Resort</i> is a little bit of a stretch for Archview, it is clean and friendly and is situated perfectly for easy access to some excellent trail riding, not to mention Arches and Canyonlands National Parks. Like not-too-distant Cisco, Archview also has a Hollywood connection. Many scenes from the 1997 film <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breakdown_(film)">Breakdown</a></i> were filmed at the resort and on the surrounding highways. The resorts convenience store has an ample supply of memorabilia from the shoot.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Being fat and lazy these days, I bunked in one of their cabins. Our group had all four cabins in a row and this spot became "expedition central."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The cabins were comfortable. They had bunk beds; cooling and heating; and a little cube refrigerator All the comforts of home.</span><br />
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<span style="color: yellow; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The First Day's Ride</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's the ride map for today.</span><br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://maps.google.com/maps?saddr=UT-313+W&daddr=38.5419492,-109.734664+to:Co+Rd+142%2FShafer+Canyon+Road+to:Island+in+the+Sky+Rd&hl=en&sll=38.534135,-109.776163&sspn=0.053511,0.111494&geocode=FYkYTgIdnFF2-Q%3BFX0aTAId-JR1-SnXlFY36g1IhzE5RdlCcqvnHg%3BFbTjSgId_1d1-Q%3BFS9BTAIdWLN0-Q&t=p&mra=dme&mrsp=3&sz=14&via=1&ie=UTF8&source=embed&ll=38.566422,-109.738998&spn=0.257702,0.438766&z=11&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br /><small><a href="https://maps.google.com/maps?saddr=UT-313+W&daddr=38.5419492,-109.734664+to:Co+Rd+142%2FShafer+Canyon+Road+to:Island+in+the+Sky+Rd&hl=en&sll=38.534135,-109.776163&sspn=0.053511,0.111494&geocode=FYkYTgIdnFF2-Q%3BFX0aTAId-JR1-SnXlFY36g1IhzE5RdlCcqvnHg%3BFbTjSgId_1d1-Q%3BFS9BTAIdWLN0-Q&t=p&mra=dme&mrsp=3&sz=14&via=1&ie=UTF8&source=embed&ll=38.566422,-109.738998&spn=0.257702,0.438766&z=11" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday morning was our first riding day. Dana Williams (a.k.a Dirty DR) knew some folks in a large group of Honda CT-90/CT-110 riders. That morning eleven Urals in a row wound their way up Utah Route 313 to meet up with the CT'ers at their camp site off of Dubinky Well Road. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Those CT's are cool little bikes. They have a dual range gear box that allows them to climb like a mountain goat. The CT'ers joined us for the first part of our ride to Long Canyon.</span><br />
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The ride down long Canyon really begins in a narrow, steep notch in the edge of the mesa. The photos don't do justice, this was pretty freakin' steep. Everyone made it down fine however. Here's Randy Fritch, our local <a href="http://www.uniqueridesco.com/Default.asp">Colorado Ural Dealer</a> leading a group down the slope.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the first convenient view point we took a break.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had to get at least one shot of the group with the banner I made.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From there we continued all the way back down to the Colorado River a few thousand feet below. This brought us out onto the appropriately named Potash Road. This paved road on the river's northern bank leads a parade of trucks up to the Potash plant a few miles up the road. We continued along and made another rest stop at the boat ramp that sits right below the start of the Shafer Trail.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Shafer Trail winds it's way back up from the river at about 4,000' then passes into Canyonlands National Park and on up to the plateau high above at about 6,000'. The last 1,000 feet or so are done on some spectacular switchbacks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For the most part, it's not difficult except for a few rough patches that include stepping the bike up and over some rock humps. Although a bit hair-raising, everyone made it over the difficulties presented. There are spectacular views and rock fortresses as far as the eye can see.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We stopped at yet another river overlook to allow the group to consolidate once more. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These two veteran riders (Dana Williams and Dave Hooker) were our guides, mentors, and inspiration for the duration of this week.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/Moab2013/Moab013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://ColoradoPeaks.net/PostedPhotos/Moab2013/Moab013.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: yellow;">Dave "Mr Cob" Hooker and Dana "Dirty DR" Williams having another spirited debate. </span> </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the final stretch of the Shaffer Trail is where things got interesting for me. I've been up these switchbacks on both motorbike and mountain bike before, but they take on a whole new level of difficulty in the hack</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These photos don't do justice for the switchbacks. They are steep and off-camber in the right-hand turns. Add to that the fact that the Ural is no power house. A rider has to keep up the speed to make it up the climbing curve. Too slow and there's not enough oomph to make it. Too fast and the side car reaches for the sky. In this photo, the lower switchback proved to best my skill. I came around too fast and the hack flew. Chopping the throttle did nothing and I headed off straight into the rock wall at the just past the apex of the curve.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wound up with my rig sitting on its side stuck into the drainage ditch at the base of the cliff. Luckily I wasn't hurt. My head speared the rock wall, but I was wearing a helmet. Perhaps to save me some disgrace, no one took any photos of my rig until we got it back onto the rubber.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow;"><b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I look like I'm laughing it off in this photo. In reality, I'm gasping for breath.</span></b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Getting the bike out of the ditch proved more difficult. The first attempt was successful. I used 2wd and she tractored right out. Stupidly however, I left it in 2wd as I tried to pull forward and to the right so that I was parallel to the road. Instead, the Ural's desire to go only in a straight line when in 2wd put my front wheel back into the ditch! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We Ural riders pride ourselves not only on being able to get stuck in the middle of nowhere, but being equally adept at self-extricating. Dave Hooker's rig has an electric winch installed on it. Too bad he was already up the road while all this was happening. More than one of the riders today were carrying a Maasdam rope puller. However, at the most convenient moment. . .</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. . .a benevolent Jeeper arrived on the scene. He was probably very happy to get the chance to use his winch. I was out post haste.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We Ural riders will never be able to boast about speed or power, but we can rely on Soviet over-building. You're hard pressed to find any plastic on a Ural. It was designed in the 1940's and still uses mostly 1940's materials. In fact, you can pick up the bike by the front fender. Luckily for me the Ural's massive steel front fender and grab bar met the rock face first and took the brunt of the impact. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The front fender and grab bar are both quite out of kilter. It was difficult to tell by just looking, but once I jumped back on the bike, she was ride-able! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The bike handled fine on the rest of the ride out of the canyon. As soon as I hit pavement however, it was obvious that my front wheel was bent. It was a slow, ignominious ride back to the campground at 30 mph. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> That afternoon, I pondered what to do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A stroke of luck hit me on that evening. I rode monkey with Tim Laughlin back into Moab for dinner. One of Moab's signature joints is Eddie McStiff's on the main drag. Tim and I were relaxing at an outside table when we heard the unmistakable whine/rattle of a Ural motor approaching. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We were confused when we saw someone pulling into the parking lot on an old 1990's model Ural Deco. None in our group was riding such a beast. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The rider turned out to be <a href="http://www.humanthing.com/">Michael Hallberg</a>, a recent Florida transplant and now Moab local. It really is a small world sometimes. Mike is a really eclectic guy doing everything from graphic design, to photography, to writing computer apps. He'd come to Eddie McStiffs to work on entree' photos for their new menu.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As we conversed and I disclosed my front wheel woes, Mike, through the powers of facebook tried to put me in contact with Chris Brunner, his trusted Ural mechanic and friend in Moab. Talk about luck! Amazingly, later that evening Chris took an unsolicited ride out to Archview to seek out our group and I made arrangements with him to see if he could straighten out my front wheel at his shop the next morning.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tuesday morning I drove Dana Williams' road sofa, the Buick Road Master dinosaur into Moab to visit Chris' shop. Chris has an interesting past, spending his late youth in Germany gaining experience and taking advantage of a formal training and apprenticeship program. He's a master mechanic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We discovered while examining by egg-shaped front wheel that the impact had actually broken the wheel bub at the place where one of the spokes mounts. This put an immediate end to the idea of straightening the wheel.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However, my luck had not run out. As soon as the damage to my front wheel was known back at camp the day before, Darrell Spitzer stepped up and volunteered the use of his spare front Ural wheel to me. In fact, Darrel remarked later that he'd been carrying that spare front wheel around for a couple of years hoping to get a chance to use it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks to Darrell's largess, Chris was able to simply swap my front tire onto Darrell's wheel and I was back in business! Thanks Darrell! I drove the road sofa back to the campground with a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. I'd be able to keep riding.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't mention, but Randy Fritch, our local Colorado Ural dealer, had already agreed to make room in his trailer for my bike if it proved unrideable. He was willing to take it straight back to his shop in Colorado. How's that for more incredible luck? I'm happy I didn't need to take him up on the offer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I returned to the camp ground, mounted the replacement front wheel and spent some time going over the bike to ensure that nothing was amiss. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That evening we all relaxed around the camp fire and swapped riding stories.</span><br />
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Sand Flats and La Sal Loop</h2>
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Here's today's ride map:<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next group ride that I joined, we headed up Sand Flats road, past the famous Slickrock cycle trail and headed up to the base of the still snow covered La Sal Peaks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Along the way, I was bitten in the butt by another minor mistake. When I had installed my motor sump guard a week or so earlier, I'd never re-tightened the bolts that hold the in-board muffler to the bike. A day's ridding on trails and rocks loosened it up and set it free as I was riding this fairly smooth trail. A quick 10 minute pit stop and it was back in place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The group stopped for a lunch break at a beautiful spot right on the sheer edge of the mesa. I'm not certain if this is still technically part of the Porcupine Rim, but it looks down into the bottom of Castle Valley a few thousand feet below. An awesome place to stop and a good excuse for many more photos. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Here's Darrell Spitzer grinning the Ural grin.</b></span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>What a great back drop</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/Moab2013/Moab029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://ColoradoPeaks.net/PostedPhotos/Moab2013/Moab029.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>No stop is complete without a good bull session.</b></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's Walt and his wife (I'm so bad with names!). He's got a uniquely modified Patrol with lots of hand crafted do-dads. That's an Aprilia sport bike muffler grafted on there.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b style="color: yellow;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Yours Truly</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After the lunch break it was a wonderful ride up to the La Sal Loop Road and down into Castle Valley. It was interesting to note that only a few meters from where we broke for lunch, Kokopelli's Trail intersected our dirt road. At this point Kokopelli's Trail is a single track mountain bike/hiking trail. It's amazing to ponder the endurance necessary for riding it from it's origins all the way back in Colorado, up through these mountains and down into Moab. Awesome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We continued higher until we intersected the paved <i>Mountain Loop Road </i>that skirted the still snow covered lower slopes of the La Sal peaks. It actually got pretty chilly way up there. The road is narrow and curvy and takes you from green alpine forest back down into arid Castle Valley. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We eventually met the Colorado River again as we merged onto Route 128. We took one last break at one of the boat ramps along the river then broke up into ones and twos and everyone went their own way for the rest of the day.</span><br />
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<h2>
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Arches National Park</h2>
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Here's today's ride map:<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course, no trip to Moab is complete unless a few more arch photos are added to the collection. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next day (Thursday, I think) I took off into town to get my front tire balanced and then I rode into Arches National Park to revisit some of the places I'd been to in years past. It was basically a nice slow day with a leisurely ride into the park and a little hiking to grab some snap shots.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/Moab2013/Moab037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://ColoradoPeaks.net/PostedPhotos/Moab2013/Moab037.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>I think this is Turret Arch.</b></span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>North and South Window Arches</b></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Views of South Window Arch and the La Sal mountains in the distance.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK, that's enough of Arches National Park. I headed back to the campground. This evening we had a group barbecue. A good time was had by all. Too good for me, I got no pics!</span><br />
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Willow Springs Trail</h2>
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Here's today's ride map:<br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=US-191+S&daddr=38.6948219,-109.6981996+to:Unknown+road+to:Unknown+road&hl=en&geocode=FYkYTgIdnFF2-Q%3BFaVvTgIdaSN2-SllGeZ02HNIhzFsgaIBnvp8GA%3BFXeOTgIdVBx4-Q%3BFU7CTgIdWpV3-Q&sll=38.699779,-109.617634&sspn=0.053387,0.111494&t=p&dirflg=w&mra=dme&mrsp=2&sz=14&via=1&ie=UTF8&ll=38.691941,-109.641838&spn=0.128625,0.219383&z=12&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br /><small><a href="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=US-191+S&daddr=38.6948219,-109.6981996+to:Unknown+road+to:Unknown+road&hl=en&geocode=FYkYTgIdnFF2-Q%3BFaVvTgIdaSN2-SllGeZ02HNIhzFsgaIBnvp8GA%3BFXeOTgIdVBx4-Q%3BFU7CTgIdWpV3-Q&sll=38.699779,-109.617634&sspn=0.053387,0.111494&t=p&dirflg=w&mra=dme&mrsp=2&sz=14&via=1&ie=UTF8&ll=38.691941,-109.641838&spn=0.128625,0.219383&z=12" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friday morning I did my last ride with the group. We headed into Arches National Park again, but this time using the Willow Springs Trail to enter through the undeveloped portion of the park. This proved to be an excellent ride. One minute on deep sandy track, the next minute on a bone jarring rock trail ripped out of the ground by some sort of giant scraper as far as I could tell. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://coloradopeaks.net/PostedPhotos/Moab2013/Moab046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://ColoradoPeaks.net/PostedPhotos/Moab2013/Moab046.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Here's Ernie and Sandy from down El Paso, Texas way.</b></span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Richard and Cynthia, who live in Grand Junction, Colorado.</b></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another obligatory group shot</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Left to right: Ernie; Sandy; Tim; Licari;Piper; Dan; Spat; Cookie; Darrell; Dana; Cynthia; Richard; Dave</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is as close as we got to the developed part of Arches. That's the well known Balanced Rock formation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From there we doubled-back a little and headed up a seriously fun, deep, sandy trail that challenged our abilities a bit. I didn't get any photos of that section (I know someone did. Where are they?) Some sections were very narrow, deep sand, hairpin curves where the bike's wheels were riding on one wall and the hack's wheel on the other. Priceless! This brought us out to the <i>Eye of the Whale</i> arch. I wasn't impressed with that one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We stopped for a break at a section that had dinosaur tracks in the horizontal sandstone. They didn't look much more than nondescript indentations in the rock's surface to me, but who am I to judge?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's Ernie. Good guy who I bet has a lot of good storie</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">s from his days at the Cop Shop in El Paso. On the right is Sandy, Ernie's gal Sandy</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tim (left) and I shared one of the cabins at Arch View campground for the week. I think were still friends. . . Paul (right) rode his Yamaha TW200 all the way down from Laramie, Wyoming to join us for a few days. I love those fat wheeled bikes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I sneaked a quick shot of the infamous Predator. I'd been warned not to divulge any IMWA prototype gear that might be in use.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our last test of the day was driving up a steep deep sand trail out of low area. Gotta love that two wheel drive!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Everyone made it up the hill with seemingly little effort. Dave Hooker gave it the old college try using only single wheel drive. It took a few extra runs, but he made it up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dave really puts the Predator through its paces without a second thought. Just for kicks he dropped down into a dry wash on this slab. . .</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rode back out. . .</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then went back for seconds.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What a great week it was. Plenty of lie tellin' and hard ridin'</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With a few minutes of introspection thrown in here-and-there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Friday evening we all gathered in town to dine. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Clockwise from left: Licari; Cynthia; Paul; Dan; Mike; Darrell; Piper;<br />Tim;Dana;Spat;Cookie;Ernie;Sandy; and Dave's legs.</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This particular Friday evening features a procession of classic and hot rod cars parading down the main drag in Moab. There is a car show on this weekend every year. We had our Urals lined up at the curb in front of the restaurant and they garnered nearly as much attention as the loud motors and occasional burn-outs on the street.</span><br />
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<h2>
Headin' Home</h2>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My original plan for Saturday morning was to leave Moab and travel south, then east through Paradox Valley back into Colorado via Gateway. I stopped for gas in Moab and gave my wire, Zeng Yuan, a call. She asked me to try to be home on Saturday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After having a week away from home while Zeng Yuan put up with more snow storms in Colorado, I could hardly argue. So my route plans changed and I basically back-tracked home via the same route that we rode out on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For the sake of expediency I skipped the section of Kokopelli's Trail and suffered the badly patched section on Old U.S. 6 once again. The day was mild and sunny and a perfect day for a long distance ride. Too add to the pleasure, the majority of the ride was in very light traffic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made it home that afternoon at about 4:45p, exhausted but happy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was an awesome time. Thanks to everyone for the fun, camaraderie, and help when I needed it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cheers,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dan K.</span><br />
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Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-75349829195276871742012-08-26T00:27:00.001-06:002012-08-26T00:28:06.191-06:002012.08.25 - Another good Colorado day under the belt<br />
<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">Boy, today was another beautiful Colorado Summer day. I slept in late. I puttered around the house for a while. Then I got the itch that only a ride can scratch. So I jumped on the bike and headed out. I first turned north along Peak-to-Peak scenic Byway and headed toward Nederland and points north. When I arrived in Nederland, I was rudely slapped by reality.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">I'd forgotten that the hugely successful second edition of the USA Pro Cycling Challenge was running the 5th stage of the race and it was passing through Nederland and heading north on the same road I planned to travel. No manner of pleading with the wanna-be FBI agent guarding the road would get me past.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">So, to the south I went. A few weeks ago I had done a run up and over Guanella Pass. On that day, I had intended to putt up to Loveland Pass (11,990'), but the traffic returning east on I-70 turned me off that idea. I figured maybe today was a good day for that ride.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">As usual, I headed up through Black Hawk and Central City and up, then down, Virginia Canyon Road to Idaho Springs. I stopped to take a few snaps just after leaving Central City.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">When I arrived down in Idaho springs I could see that traffic was running smoothly both east and west. west I went. as usual, I followed the winding service road that roughly parallels I-70 at the bottom of this narrow mountain valley. Reaching Georgetown, I am forced to step up and merge onto I-70.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">Not usually something to worry about, but riding the Ural up a relentless and steep mountain grade, while doable, is an act of faith. Faith in the bike? No. Faith in the other drivers on the road. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">Georgetown sits at about 8,500'. My goal is the turn-off for U.S. 6 to Loveland Pass. This exit is 12 miles and 2,400' higher in elevation. The speed limit on I-70 in this area is 65mph. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to hit about 40mph on some stretches. That's 1 mph for each horsepower the bike can muster.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">Luckily for me, lots of cars find this grade difficult also and relative speed of traffic slows more and more as we go higher. I find a few convenient tractor-trailers to follow. They're the only ones driving as slowly as me, and people can see the slow moving behemoths much more easily than me. Regardless, my eyes are glued to the rear view mirrors for the bulk of the trip.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">None too soon, my exit appears and I slide off to the right and down the exit ramp. U.S. 6 used to be the only road that travelled west from Denver and up and over the Continental Divide. These days, the road is used mostly by gawkers like me, back country skier and boarders, and any tractor-trailers carrying volatile loads. They're not allowed to driver through the twin tunnels which bore straight under Loveland Pass ski area and out the other side of the divide.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">I pull over to the side of the road near the entrance to the ski area. Forlorn and looking forgotten, the ski area is devoid of people. In just a few weeks they'll begin to use their snow making equipment to get a jump on on Mother Nature's bounty of white gold. September is just one week distant and the nights above 10,000' will soon be below freezing.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">I relaxed for about 10 minutes, allowing my motor a well deserved rest after straining it in the ride up to the U.S. 6 exit. Enough time for a quick, cool drink and a look around the wooded area at the base of the mountain.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">The distance to Loveland Pass is only 4 miles, but its also a very steep and winding 4 miles. I remember a time years ago, while returning home late one night from Keystone Ski area, (which is on the other side of the pass), I came across a passenger van which had slid off the roadway. like some cheesy low-budget film, it was sitting with its front wheels off the roadway and hanging in mid-air. Nothing but a long, long drop into a very dark void below. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">My Ural eats up the long grade. The speed limit here is only 30 mph, and the Ural has no trouble doing it. At each hairpin turn, it's a beautiful view back down the mountain valley, or back up to the top of the Continental Divide.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">The four miles goes by in about 10 minutes (No one buys a Ural to go fast). The pass summit is as I expected, lots of tourists like me running around and taking photos. One of the things I like about the Ural is the attention it garners everywhere it goes. It seems that people who would never think of looking at you when you're riding a two-wheeled bike, will smile and wave and stop to talk when you're riding a hack. I think the Ural's vintage looks are somehow disarming. Actually, sometimes the attention is not wanted. Today I want to be alone with my thoughts, so I continue past the summit of Loveland Pass and stop a few hunderd meters down the road at an unused turnout.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">It's a beautiful day, in a beautiful spot, and I have a beautiful bike. I decided that it's time to produce some Ural porn. I spent the next ten minutes or so snapping pics of the bike. With the help of a tripod, I manage to stage a few "candid" shots of myself too. Oh, with the bike in the photo too, of course.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">OK, is that too many pics? Do I have an unnatural relationship with my bike? If you own a bike, then we both already know the answer to those questions.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">Photography session over, I make a u-turn and head back down the serpentine ribbon and merge back onto I-70. This time the ride back down to Georgetown has a completely different character. The throttle is barely touched and I glide down the long grade with ease. The Ural being so much like a farm tractor when ridden at highway speeds, I keep my speed down between 55 and 60 mph. Cars and trucks are passing me at a good clip as it seems everyone must prove that their vehicle really are fast.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">The rest of the ride home is pleasant and uneventful. I make full use of any and all dirt roads that I can find when I leave the interstate at Idaho Springs. Too soon I am pulling up the grade and into my driveway.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #a2c4c9; font-size: large;">Another good Colorado day under the belt.</span>Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-61776824401346952282012-08-13T20:18:00.000-06:002012-08-13T20:18:05.015-06:002012.08.13 - What a blow-out!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWydgWoCWFTJh59AGqoeriIGNaN7T3c6MIlCbfrLznQXcRnG5sRv_dRqeEBzZX8HFffwh-G2PmxEcnQQQq2PNlj5RKuoyLC2wd-XpgGR3rfcTBZIcWTuAkbM5xhRi_Nc1Zgi2aQ7HXmmU/s1600/DSCN0686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWydgWoCWFTJh59AGqoeriIGNaN7T3c6MIlCbfrLznQXcRnG5sRv_dRqeEBzZX8HFffwh-G2PmxEcnQQQq2PNlj5RKuoyLC2wd-XpgGR3rfcTBZIcWTuAkbM5xhRi_Nc1Zgi2aQ7HXmmU/s640/DSCN0686.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-size: small;">Don't try this at home friends. I'm a trained professional. . .</span></td></tr>
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<br />I managed to get every last bit of rubber off the pusher tire that came with my Ural Gear Up. Of course, I was only about two miles from home this afternoon when the death knell sounded. Pop! Wheeze! And it was down for the count.<br /><br />OK I thought, I've got a spare. That's one of the good things about a Ural. Things aren't too bad. I remembered that getting the bike on the center stand is not fun. That's why I used to carry a small bottle jack in the trunk. Of course, when I sold my old 2003 Patrol a couple of years back, the bottle jack went along with it. Today it was the center stand and nothing but the center stand. I thought I was slick when I positioned the bike facing up an incline. It was still a grunt to roll it back on the center stand, but it was up.<br /><br />I haven't changed a Ural tire in at least 4 years, so I had my first fit before I remembered that the special oil filter wrench is also the special rear axle nut wrench on the two wheel drive Ural bikes. It was a struggle to get the cotter pin out too of course. Then I rediscovered that the center stand is not high enough to be able to roll the tire out from under the fender. (Note to IMWA, the Ural Oracle, three words: Hinged rear fender. Come on, BMW did it in the 1930's. . .) So, unbelievably, the Gear Up's shovel saved me for a second time in the space of two weeks. I got to work chopping the hard dirt and rocks away from under the rear tire. If you ever wondered why they call these hills the "Rocky Mountains", I can tell you why. It took almost 15 minutes of chopping before I was able to squeeze the tire out. And Bob's your uncle! I thought. . .<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-size: small;">All dug out, nowhere yet to go. How do you like the fuzzy cell phone camera effects?</span></td></tr>
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Just a couple of minutes more digging allowed me to get the spare tire into the same space that the flat one had been. Guess all that air in there makes it a bit bigger. Wheel on. Axle on. Axle nut tightened. No cotter pin, but its only two miles or so to home. I put all the tools away, put my riding gear back on and kick the bike to life. She won't move too far with the pusher wheel off the ground, so I cleverly slipped her into two wheel drive. Unfortunately, the sidecar wheel just didn't have enough grip to get the bike moving back up the incline. She just spun a little to the left and the sidecar wheel started to dig a hole.<br /><br />Ah, fun and games. I spent the next few minutes trying to dig the center stand out in the hopes of popping it up. I even contemplated leaving the motor running, the bike in gear--in two wheel drive--and pulling on the front fender's grab bar. I figured that might possibly end nastily. I reconsidered. Brute force was obviously the answer, so a few more minutes of bouncing, and pulling, and grunting, basically left me breathless and no closer to home. Then salvation arrived in the guise of a local bicyclist who happened by and offered to help. With him pushing and me pulling we got it off the center stand and I was them able to power out of the little trench I had dug.<br /><br />After a thanks from me, the cyclist went on his way and I pulled out onto the tarmac for those last few miles home. Holy Cow! I couldn't believe how the bike was handling. It became an entirely different beast with the change of the tire. The bike seemed to have a mind of its own! It didn't want to steer left, and was scary going right. I never experienced this on my old Patrol the many times I changed its tires. I even thought for a second that maybe my spare wheel didn't have any bearings in it and it was wobbling around. A quick look down showed a cleanly rotating tire. I checked the tire pressure and adjusted it to 40psi right after I mounted it on the bike. The old flat pusher was a Duro, the spare tire a Uralshina. Different cross sections, but I didn't think it would make such a big difference. <br /><br />I don't know what's going on there. For this evening, I've had enough bike wrestling. I'll look at it tomorrow. I guess my forlorn BMW F650 will get a ride tomorrow. It's been lonely since I brought the Ural home two weeks ago.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-size: small;">Oh, if only those last few inches of rear fender were somehow removable. . .</span></td></tr>
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<br />Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-29750333971604364752012-08-12T20:28:00.000-06:002012-08-13T11:54:55.333-06:002012.08.12 - Black Hawk - Guanella Pass - Black Hawk Loop<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">T</span>oday was a beautiful day to get out on the new Ural Gear Up. I've only had the bike for about two weeks. I regretted selling my last Ural, the 2003 Patrol, back in late 2010. A few months ago I started thinking about it. Last month I started searching seriously for a good used one. I found it two weeks ago, and I've been riding it nearly everyday since.</div>
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<tr align="center"><td class="tr-caption"><span style="color: yellow; font-size: small;">Today's Route. A hair over 100 miles.</span></td></tr>
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There's nothing like a warm Summer day in the high Rockies. My house sits at 9,160'. It's always cool when Denver (Just 25 miles away) is sweltering way down at 5,280'. It was a little breezy today, making the mesh riding jacket I chose not the best choice. You know how it is, you start the ride, feel a little cold and waste brain power trying to decide to keep riding or pull over and add a layer.<br />
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I chose to keep ridin'.<br />
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The ride down Peak-to-Peak Scenic Byway (CO Hwy. 119) is very nice, but as this is one of my commuting roads, I ignore what others might see. It's not until I take the steep climb up out of Black Hawk towards Central City that I start to feel invigorated. At the edge of Central City, I peel-off left as the main stream of traffic heads its way to the right and towards the Central City Parkway. That's the most efficient way to get out of town. But efficiency is not my goal.<br />
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I choose Virginia Canyon Road, A.K.A. Oh, my God! Road. This dirt road passes the remnants of a multitude of now defunct gold, silver, and tungsten mines as it first climbs up, then descends down to the south and into the town of Idaho Springs. There are many, many smaller dirt roads shooting off in every direction from Virginia Canyon Road. Seemingly chaotic, but no doubt all following old dreams to some erstwhile mine.<br />
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Along the steep drop down towards Idaho Springs, it is easy to understand this road's colloquial moniker of Oh, my God! Road. One can see straight down a few thousand feet all the way to Interstate 70 and Idaho Springs. The sharp, blind curves always keep you wary for the errant duffer hogging too much of your side of the road. No guard rails here. If you go off, you're going for the ride of your life. I've been down this road many times, so there are no surprises for me. Down close to Idaho springs, I stopped to take a look at a piece of random road art. Whimsical and practical at the same time, it appears that the creator placed it there to hide the natural gas pipeline and regulator that is behind it.</div>
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After dropping down to Idaho Springs, I followed the winding and relaxing service road that more-or-less parallels Interstate 70 as I ride to the west. My original plan was to ride up to the top of lovely Loveland Pass and then loop back down I-70 towards Denver. One look at the eastbound traffic on I-70 changes that plan immediately.<br />
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Bumper-to-bumper and 10 miles per hour for as far as the eye can see. As I ride in and out of visual range of the Interstate, I smugly imagine harried travelers growing a smile on their face when they see me puttering nearby on my "antique" sidecar motorcycle. I feel a bit childish as I know I bought this bike in part for its "wow" factor, and I'm enjoying it.<br />
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As riding on the interstate holds no joyous prospect, I ponder my options. There are a few different ways I can head off, but I choose to continue on through on the service road and putt through Georgetown. Guanella Pass is the host road for the annual February "Elephant Ride". It's a motorcycle free-for-all that winds its way up the pass road from Grant, Colorado to the south and up to the top of Guanella Pass at about 11,600' above sea level. The last time I did the ride, Guanella Pass was still unpaved and unmaintained in the Winter. It's a fine sight to see a menagerie of motorbikes Slip-sliding on their way as their riders compete to see who can reach the top of the pass through windswept ice patches and choking snow drifts.<br />
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But today it is Summer, and I won't have any of those obstacles to overcome. I secretly expect to dislike the ride now that the road is fully paved. I do notice that traffic is higher than it used to be when dodging potholes was the norm. However, I soon come to realize that at my feeble 35 miles per hour, it is a graceful, curving byway. I also notice that it seems some thought was put into the construction as there are numerous turn-outs for slow vehicles and parking. As the road wends its way through National Forest land they've done something that I find quite out of character, they've paved a number of deep pullouts where people can camp nearby along the roadside. Normally, camp grounds are the only option, and roadside camping is less than hospitable. I make a mental note of quite a few good camp spots that I'll have to come back and take advantage of.<br />
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Nearing the summit of the pass, there are a few hairpin turns that force me to remember what it is like to pilot a sidecar rig around sharp right-hand curves. Setup your entry wrong and the consequences can be an excursion into oncoming traffic. I inadvertently lift the sidecar wheel midway through one curve and the hair on the back of my neck instantly is up. Piloting a "hack", as we sidecar riders call our rigs, is nothing like riding a motorcycle, nor is it like driving a car. It is a whole 'nother animal. When you get it wrong, it can be scary. When you get it right, not too many things give you more satisfaction.<br />
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At the summit of Guanella Pass, I do come to find one of the down-sides to having the road paved. I've never seen so many cars, trucks, and campers parked at the top. This area has always been a popular weekend spot as the pass hosts the trail head for Mt. Bierstadt, one of the coveted "14'ers". At 14,264', it is one of the 54 Colorado mountain tops that is over 14,000' above sea level. Making it especially popular is the fact that it is an easy hike from Guanella Pass to the summit. Crowded or not, it's still a beautiful spot. I pulled over for a few minutes to snap a few pics.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-size: small;">The view from Guanella Pass towards the southeast. Mt. Bierstadt is the peak almost visible on the left. Lower Mt. Sawtooth is the serrated peak near the middle. Sawtooth is lower, but a more difficult climb. Been there, done that.</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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In every direction the view is very nice. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjguCHUb5lVR_iw_b3sohKGeZxew1VmDo6JxOX28kMonFS71kU0fK0V_8oADS8LZyno48e5uOp2BNMgF6XyO7ulsgVMLMuMP3jKPdwFA1ZlAzA0ZfCmhXnXSW3IsQWXv3LY4fI9Ln6ovmA/s1600/Guanella+Pass+1a+11%252C600%2527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjguCHUb5lVR_iw_b3sohKGeZxew1VmDo6JxOX28kMonFS71kU0fK0V_8oADS8LZyno48e5uOp2BNMgF6XyO7ulsgVMLMuMP3jKPdwFA1ZlAzA0ZfCmhXnXSW3IsQWXv3LY4fI9Ln6ovmA/s640/Guanella+Pass+1a+11%252C600%2527.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="color: yellow;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The view to the northwest. I can't remember the name of the peak in the background. Beautiful, nonetheless</span></td></tr>
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I continue on after a few minutes of photography and relaxation. The road from the summit of the pass back down to Grant shows it's age and alpine environment. The effects of sun, ice, and time have taken their toll. Large portions of the road are a complete mosaic of patches, none level with the next. This plays havoc with the small amount of suspension travel offered by the Ural. Piloting a sidecar on such a path induces yawing, lurching, stuttering, and a little bit of handlebar head-shake that have to be modulated by the rider lest they get out of control. As usual, the Ural is happiest at a leisurely speed, and I meander about skirting potholes, frost heaves, and the occasional flattened forest inhabitant at a moderate 35 miles per hour.<br />
<br />
Partway down the canyon I once again make note of a few nice camping spots. These little gems will be explored in the future. Past a beautiful roadside waterfall, a side road catches my eye, and I make the effort to stop and turn around so I can check it out.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTI0Sx9XTy8yWebp8yEaQdsPIR9YjnQzmu5Epp-2FaCCqIxiNFFXIxcPGtqEA6xqGXjuKpdM7AuKj3KczK59LzIgrUZPkIjRYBSWylvw7kBSeeFm8FPe9k9OSOo4W3GpWgad3ix7tg3fU/s1600/Roadside+Stream+a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTI0Sx9XTy8yWebp8yEaQdsPIR9YjnQzmu5Epp-2FaCCqIxiNFFXIxcPGtqEA6xqGXjuKpdM7AuKj3KczK59LzIgrUZPkIjRYBSWylvw7kBSeeFm8FPe9k9OSOo4W3GpWgad3ix7tg3fU/s640/Roadside+Stream+a.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-size: small;">The stream that caught my eye.</span></td></tr>
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<br />
The road leads just a few dozen meters off the side of the road, but it is on the uphill side of the road and thus less visible to the passer-by; pretty much hidden by trees. The roughness of the first few yards up the road leads me to believe that not too many passenger car types venture up this way. The road quickly smooths out and I find a vacant and idyllic camping spot. It has all of the required amenities: It is flat; it is right next to a rushing stream; it is surrounded by trees. Most importantly, whoever arrives here first, wins, as there is only room for one group to camp there. No annoying, noisy neighbors. This one earns a special way point in my GPS. I will be coming back here.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgJ_w5d2rMKgOz1jHxaiqf9yAjAM2NCMyf9FSTC4aMHXLjW_DQ5DuYBD44u-21JxJuIghL4gNtjMcy5Lvr0D2EP5QTinXO0TTpsk9x0NxlrUk0BqeEaMhvi6KuomZuDK5y9oD6p82l1s/s1600/Roadside+Stream+1a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgJ_w5d2rMKgOz1jHxaiqf9yAjAM2NCMyf9FSTC4aMHXLjW_DQ5DuYBD44u-21JxJuIghL4gNtjMcy5Lvr0D2EP5QTinXO0TTpsk9x0NxlrUk0BqeEaMhvi6KuomZuDK5y9oD6p82l1s/s640/Roadside+Stream+1a.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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From here, the road soon gave way to a few miles of unpaved gravel. I usually enjoy gravel and dirt more than pavement, especially potholed and patched pavement, but there was no joy today. I suffered the double-whammy. While stopped to take photos, a convoy of caravans slowly drove by. I quickly caught up to them as I continued on. While choking on their dust cloud I was serenaded by the rhythms of the washboard road.<br />
<br />
Luckily, it was only a couple of miles until we once again reached relative civilization. Grant, Colorado has its name on the road map, but can hardly be called a town by most measures. A house or three and a roadside restaurant are all that greet the casual observer. Grant sits on U.S. Highway 285, and it is here that I begin the homeward bound leg of today's ride. Anyone whose ridden this mostly two-lane road road will remember it fondly the very first time. It is scenic and winding and passes through hill and dale and over stream.<br />
<br />
Anyone who has been over it many times will curse the traffic and impatient drivers who are hell-bent on approaching Denver as close to warp speed as possible. This makes U.S. 285 a less-than-friendly Ural road, but I am helped out by a tail wind and a mostly downhill trend for the fist 20 miles or so. Any Ural rider knows how joyful it is when you hit that sweet spot in your choice of gear and throttle for any given stretch of road. I was feeling it for a good number of miles before I hit some of the steeper uphill sections.<br />
<br />
I generally wish a slow and painful death to all tail-gaiters, but I was spared the worst of it by some thoughtfully placed passing lanes in some of the really steep parts. The remainder of my journey back home, while still a collection of delicious up-and-down hills, left-and-right hand curves is so ingrained in my brain through repetition that I found myself turning off the highway back onto the well-worn dirt road that leads to my house before I even knew it.<br />
<br />
Few things are as satisfying to a man of a certain age as a good motorbike and mountainous terrain. Today was one of those days. Let's hope there will be many more.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefGCroDSTyjIdtu6AjTCIUf0kj10Ez5hMz8zK5bjc1OGm6cioWnPRPQ1b43S3xQx25iF-QtkNEyuagI9pDH6bA4XF8LyyTPHh4O_2NzJn0qLbP5V_vWtNy1xjmjXKGFRZwGZIpu32Jmc/s1600/Freaky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefGCroDSTyjIdtu6AjTCIUf0kj10Ez5hMz8zK5bjc1OGm6cioWnPRPQ1b43S3xQx25iF-QtkNEyuagI9pDH6bA4XF8LyyTPHh4O_2NzJn0qLbP5V_vWtNy1xjmjXKGFRZwGZIpu32Jmc/s640/Freaky.jpg" width="454" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="color: yellow;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I don't know art, but I know what I like. This is just freaky. . .</span></td></tr>
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Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-5520018464151886722009-08-31T20:18:00.000-06:002009-08-31T20:18:12.235-06:002009.08 - Back Roads and Passes ColoradoBack Roads and Passes Colorado<br />
<br />
A Mild Adventure<br />
<br />
So, I've had my F650 since the middle of May. I've been experimenting since with this big beast on the dirt roads near my home in the <br />
Rocky Mountains of Colorado. Mostly though, I've been getting used to her on my daily commutes of 110 miles. Picked her up <br />
with 950 miles on her and just got the 6,000 mile service done a couple of weeks ago. The miles are adding up, but the percentage <br />
of dirt is probably no more than 10%. Given that I bought this bike for that express purpose, I set out to increase the dirt <br />
percentage this weekend.<br />
<br />
I scheduled Friday as an off day so that I could enjoy three days of riding. I spent Thursday evening getting things sorted and <br />
packed, so I was all set when my head hit the pillow on Thursday night. The first hiccup came when my alarm failed to go off at 6am <br />
as I had set it. Of course, the stupid on/off button had somehow mysteriously moved into the off position while I slumbered. <br />
Luckily, my retarded Labrador retriever, "Monk", disturbed me at his normal time, so I woke up only about 30 minutes late.<br />
<br />
A quick look out the window uncovered hiccup number two. It was raining!. Now, as a general rule, I will always start a ride no <br />
matter what the threat of rain might be. However, if it is raining before I start, I often bag it. This morning I was <br />
disappointed, but decided to see what happens with the weather as I slowly showered, dressed, and perked the morning's pot of <br />
coffee.<br />
<br />
Things never cleared up, but the rain abated, so around 10am I decided that moisture be damned, it's time to go. A quick check of <br />
the weather showed that Colorado was in for an unsettled mixture of wet and unseasonably cold weather for the next day or so. On <br />
top of that, the weather radar seemed to show everything coming from the northwest corner of the state. That was pretty much the <br />
direction I intended to go. Regardless, I stoically pushed ahead.<br />
<br />
I often times come back from a trip with a dearth of good photos to give evidence that I actually removed butt from couch, so this <br />
time I determined to take my time, forget about passing anything that comes up in front of me, and to take the time to actually <br />
photograph the things that catch my attention as I ride. Now I get to use the wonder of the internet to force you all to look at <br />
the results. Good or bad, I pretty much stopped and photographed any and everything that I could along the way.<br />
<br />
So, before I started, my lovely wife Yuan took a moment to document my departure:<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0308-PackedandReadyMedium.jpg'><br />
<br />
I'm only 5' 7" tall. Look! My feet are flat on the ground and my knees a little bent. I love this bike!. However, her svelte dry <br />
weight of 387lbs is nothing but a memory as I crammed every bit of creature comfort I could carry into those bags. Off we go!<br />
<br />
This photo is the view looking south along Peak-to-Peak Highway (CO 119) which runs from Estes Park , CO (Rocky Mountain National <br />
Park) down though the gambling/historic mining towns of Black Hawk and Central City on to Golden, CO, home of the Coors Brewery and <br />
the first territorial capitol of Colorado. As you can see, the day is a bit gloomy:<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0309-GloomyBeginning-Peak-to-Pe.jpg'><br />
<br />
Continuing south, I first passed through Black Hawk and Central City. Most folks in Colorado only know them because they are two of <br />
the three towns in Colorado where gambling is legal. When the entire state first voted to allow gambling in these three towns, the <br />
first rule was that it would be allowed only if historic preservation were paramount. That turned out to be a very subjective term. <br />
In Black Hawk, some very well preserved examples of Victorian architecture were picked up, lock, stock, and barrel and moved to a <br />
"preservation" zone and put on display. (So much for historical context). In their stead now stand multi-story gambling halls <br />
where the white noise of Vegas replaces any semblance of historical relevance. We even now have a 34 story tall Casino in the tight <br />
canyon. Don't get me wrong, I'm not against the gambling, or its effects on these two towns at all. My property taxes are very <br />
low, and the county tax revenue goes to make life better for us Gilpin County residents.<br />
<br />
Black Hawk does make an attempt to "class-ify" the place however. Some public art and a few parks are the fruit of their efforts. <br />
Here's a small park on the main road:<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0310-BlackHawkParkMedium.jpg'><br />
<br />
There is an historical preservation Committee also, and they strive to keep the existing buildings in both towns in an <br />
historical-correct condition. Here's a peek at the main street that heads up the hill into much more historically preserved Central <br />
City:<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0311-BlackHawkStreetMedium.jpg'><br />
<br />
Central City is less than a mile up the hill from Black Hawk, but has suffered from both its location and its decision to be more <br />
true to historical preservation. As a result, the town is much more intact and representative of how it looked in the 1880's than <br />
its northerly neighbor. On the flip-side, it stands a distant third in gambling revenue behind Black Hawk and Cripple Creek. <br />
(Cripple Creek is located about 40 miles southwest of Colorado Springs in the shadow of Pike's Peak.)<br />
<br />
Central City's welcome sign explains its raison d'etre:<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0312-WelcometoCentralCityMedium.jpg'><br />
<br />
Indeed, Central City produced a sh*t load of gold and silver in its heyday. To this day, Central City sports an opera house which<br />
is nationally acclaimed.<br />
<br />
********************<br />
http://www.coloradovacation.com/history/centralcity.html<br />
********************<br />
<br />
Heading further uphill from Central City is the Virginia Canyon Road. Looking down on Central City, one can see the level of <br />
preservation that's taken place. A little difficult to see in this photo I guess. Take my word for it. <br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/PICT0883JPG-CentralCityOverlookMedi.jpg'><br />
<br />
Here's an example of Central City's erstwhile industry. This mine enjoys a commanding view of the town from the hillside above and <br />
is one of the mines that open up again every time the price of gold rises above a certain threshold: <br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0314-DefunctGoldMineaboveCentra.jpg'><br />
<br />
The Virginia Canyon road runs some six dirt miles from Central City down to Idaho Springs. A few thousand feet lower in elevation, <br />
Idaho Springs was both a gold mining town and regionally renowned for its hot springs. Unfortunately, it suffered the same fate as <br />
not-too-distant Eldorado Springs (Which hosted presidents and international dignitaries) as the waters slowly began to cool in the <br />
20th. Century.<br />
<br />
The Virginia Canyon road is locally known as "Oh my God!" road. Although pretty tame by the standards of those who might be used to <br />
shelf roads with no guard rails and steep drop offs, the canyon is a favorite for tourists and a good shortcut for the residents to <br />
shuttle between Idaho Springs and Central City. It doesn't really get fun until it snows however. I drove my Subaru down that road <br />
one morning after a three foot deep snow storm and it was quite a "puckerer" as the snow came up over the hood to obscure the road <br />
ahead. <br />
<br />
Here is a view down the canyon from near the top. That's Interstate 70 way down at the bottom:<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0316-VirginiaCanyonOverlookCapt.jpg'><br />
<br />
Down in Idaho Springs, one can find examples of its heyday. Here’s one of the city’s old fire stations:<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0319-IdahoSprings-OldFirehouseM.jpg'><br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0319-IdahoSprings-PlaqueonOldFi.jpg'><br />
<br />
Along with more dubious achievements of American industry. Regardless, it’s a cool car:<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0317-IdahoSprings-InterestingCa.jpg'><br />
<br />
Continuing west from Idaho Springs, there is a great, winding road which basically parallels Interstate 70. The road follows the path of Clear Creek down the valley that houses I-70. No traffic and much more interesting than the super slab running alongside. Of course, there are more examples of Colorado’s mining industry to view along the way:<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0320-Mine-US40nearDumontI-70Med.jpg'><br />
<br />
(I should warn the reader now that if you’re already bored of the repeated images of mine buildings, you’d better switch to another story now)<br />
<br />
Following the winding road and crossing over and under I-70 a few times, one comes to the a parking area where the Clear Creek county Sheriff stores their vehicles. I’m guessing that maintenance occurs in the building on the left:<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0321-ClearCreekCountySherrifsga.jpg'><br />
<br />
Originally, I intended to head north and west up into northwestern Colorado, southwestern Wyoming and then over to Utah taking as many dirt roads as I could find. At this point I veered north on U.S. 40 to head up and over Berthoud Pass (11307 ft./3446 m) with the intention of continuing north. As I headed up the pass, the gloom and rain intensified. In the twenty or so miles before arriving at the fog shrouded, cold and wet summit, my plans changed. Semper Gumby! (Always Flexible!)<br />
<br />
I remembered the weather radar view that I’d checked this morning which showed all the weather coming in out of the northwest and my new plan formulated as I pulled into the parking lot at the summit of Berthoud Pass. This area was once and many failing times a commercial ski area that catered to the more hearty skier types who enjoyed playing in the high winds and avalanche prone terrain that falls steeply off all sides. I was lucky (unlucky?) enough to have skied the area one time before it closed for the final time back in the mid-1990’s. All I remember is a lot of flailing and falling down. . .<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0323-BerthoudPassMedium.jpg'><br />
<br />
So, I headed back down the way I came until I met up with the road that parallels I-70 and I headed west into Georgetown. Guess what. Yet another mining town, but one that survived intact past its roots to become a thriving bedroom community to folks who brave the long commute down into Denver and those who manage to find a living within its boundaries. I mostly remember it for the stripper-then-Mayor who led the town into turmoil a number of years ago. <br />
<br />
Georgetown is the gateway to the road that runs up to Guanella Pass. This might strike a chord with some in the ADVRider community as this is the road that hosts the Colorado “Elephant Ride” every February. It’s a ride for hearty souls who have nothing better to do on a cold February day than to try to get their bikes up the unplowed road to Guanella Pass summit at 11669 ft/3,566m. The Elephant Ride actually comes up the other side of the pass. I’ve done the run two times, once on my Ural hack rig with the driven sidecar wheel (Too easy) and once with my Yamaha XT225 (too hard). Made it to the top both times, but I still don’t know why I subjected myself to it. <br />
<br />
Unfortunately, I’d forgotten that the local powers-that-be had decided that life would be better for all Coloradans if they paved the Guanella Pass road. Subsequently, I had to put up with multiple one-lane roads stoppages including one that had me stewing for more than 30 minutes. I had to keep reminding myself that this was a ”leisurely” ride.<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0324-30MinuteConstructionDelayo.jpg'><br />
<br />
Luckily, all was quickly forgotten as the last bottleneck was passed and the way to the summit was just filled with the usual slow moving tourists. Oh well. After spending some time passing a large number of cars on the slippery magnesium chloride coated road surface, I couldn’t bring myself to stop at the top for a snapshot. So , here is one from the last time that I rode the Elephant Ride in 2006:<br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0555JPG-GuanellaPass-Feb2006.jpg'><br />
<br />
The higher peak in the right background is 14,060 foot/ 4,285m Mt. Bierstadt, one of the more accessible of Colorado’s 54 mountain peaks in excess of 14,000’/4,267m high at the summit.<br />
<br />
Once down the other side, the pass road ends at U.S. 285. This paved, two-lane road winds its way back up to Kenosha Pass at 10,001 feet/3,048m. The wide expanse of level ground at the summit makes for an anti-climactic pass climb, but will be more than made up for in just about 4 weeks as the Aspen trees will begin their spectacular fall metamorphosis and explode into colors. I didn't bother to stop for a photo and continue down the west side of the pass into South Park, Colorado. Many folks might remember the name South Park from the animated television series of the same name. Although forever linked in popular-culture as the home to Cartman and the forever suffering Kenny, the reality is nothing like the fiction. South Park is actually just a really, really big flat bottomed valley that stretches on as far as the eye can see as one heads down the west side of Kenosha Pass. In fact, if you ever see the word “Park” on a Colorado map, you can probably safely substitute the phrase “Large, flat-bottomed, lightly forested valley” in its place and you’ll probably be correct.<br />
<br />
At the bottom of South Park is my next turn-off. Como, Colorado is these days just a little stop on the tourist trail, but is also the former eastern terminus of a narrow gauge railway that ran up and over Boreas Pass (11,481 feet/3,499m) to the west and then down into Breckenridge, Colorado. Breckenridge is of course a familiar name to anyone who’s strapped two long sticks to the bottom of their feet. The town of Como these days is filled with some very interesting old buildings that are still inhabited. <br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0325-Como-OldCabinMedium.jpg'><br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0326-Como-OldWagonMedium.jpg'><br />
<br />
Today came to pass as I expected. Little tourist traffic revealed itself as I wound my way up the miles of dirt road that mostly follows the old narrow gauge rail bed. Things will be very different in about four weeks when the trees begin their annual leaf-shedding. At the summit of the pass, there are a few original buildings remaining from the passes heyday as a whistle stop. <br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0327-BoreasPass-MinersCabinMedi.jpg'><br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0327-BoreasPass-SummitMedium.jpg'><br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0327-BoreasPass-SignBMedium.jpg'><br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0327-BoreasPass-SignCMedium.jpg'><br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0327-BoreasPass-RestoredSection.jpg'><br />
<br />
<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0327-BoreasPass-SectionHouseSig.jpg'><br />
<br />
The buildings have been restored and are open to the public at times when the Forest Service folks are around.<br />
<br />
I continued down the west side of the pass towards Breckenridge. The western slope is decidedly different than the east side. The east side is much more arid as the moisture in the air pushed up the west side dumps the “white gold” on the west side. The result is a much lusher, green area of meadows, trees, and other vegetation, not to mention a world-class ski area across the valley. Here’s a shot from about 2/3 of the way down looking across the valley:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0327-BoreasPass-ViewdowntoBr-1.jpg'><br />
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You can see the ski runs of Breckenridge Ski area on the east facing slopes across the valley. At the bottom is Goose Pasture Tarn, the lake that supplies some of the snow making power in the fall.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0327-BoreasPass-ViewdowntoBreck.jpg'><br />
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Continuing on down, there is a history museum just at the bottom of the pass road as it meets U.S. 9 at the edge of town. Time doesn’t permit a perusal, but sitting out front is a prime example of the type of railway snow blower that was used in the Rocky Mountains for many years:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0327-Breckenridge-AntiqueRailro.jpg'><br />
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I made a quick stop in Breckenridge for lunch. I’ll spare you all any photos of the restaurant, and the stop only bears mention in that it saved me from a torrential downpour that only began to disperse as I emerged from the restaurant. Of course, the clouds began to part just as I finished donning the last stitch of my rain gear. I decided to leave it all on however as I’d be spending the next fifteen minutes steadily climbing U.S. 9 as it wends its way south and up toward 11,539 foot/3,517m Hoosier Pass summit. <br />
<br />
This road is a wonderful motorcycle road with a good series of switchbacks that are just tight enough so that one can lean over like Valentino Rossi. This particular day, my ride up the pass reminded me of the Twilight Zone television program from the early 1960’s. Anyone else out there as old as me remember the episode about the bookworm who survived the nuclear (Nucular?) annihilation of the world only to have his single pair of eyeglasses smashed just as he began to settle down to spend the end of days reading all his beloved books? Well, this was my hell: A series of motor homes, tractor trailers and such that refused to use any of the turn-outs on the way up! That’s one of the reasons that I never carry a gun. I’m afraid I’ll use it!<br />
<br />
In record slow time I still managed to make it to the top. Here I decided to snap a couple:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0341-HoosierPassMedium.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0341-HoosierPassPlaqueMedium.jpg'><br />
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Continuing down south, I turned west once more at Alma, Colorado with the expectation of traveling over 13,188 foot/4,019m Mosquito Pass and down the other side to Leadville, Colorado. I innocently headed west. The road leading out of town was much rougher and rockier than I expected, but after the first mile of steep climbing the road leveled off and I found myself on “just another dirt road” for the next 7 or 8 miles. Finally, I reached the high alpine area where the valley begins to choke off at its head at just over 11,500 feet/3,657m. This is a view to the west:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0343-MosquitoPass-ConinuingUpMe.jpg'><br />
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Of course, it wouldn’t be Colorado if there weren’t a defunct mine operation in the area:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0343-MosquitoPass-ProofIwasreal.jpg'><br />
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Up ahead the trail took a sharp turn to the left as it began to switchback up the southern side of the valley wall towards the pass:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0343-MosquitoPassCaptionedMediu.jpg'><br />
<br />
<strong>Now, at this point, I have to issue a parental warning: The following sequence is not for the faint-of-heart or shiny-bike crowd. Please view at your own discretion.</strong><br />
<br />
I continued up the trail and successfully maneuvered around the first of the sharp switchbacks. As I looked forward to the path ahead, I was greeted with what looked to this novice off-piste rider’s eyes to be a boulder-strewn obstacle course. I swallowed hard and kept the throttle open as I successfully maneuvered over, around and between the first few meters of rocks. Then came the moment of truth: I zigged; I zagged; then my front wheel went not where I wanted it and it was all over in the blink of an eye. The world was no longer vertical. I no longer felt the surging vibrations of that great lump of a motor between my legs. Worse yet, I was lying on the ground a few feet from my prostrate steed!<br />
<br />
The Cherry had been broken!<br />
<br />
I quickly jumped up and hit the kill switch to end the pathetic lurching of the rear wheel as it jerked under no load. I took quick stock and only my ego was bruised (Luckily, my alter-ego is still quite arrogant and confident). The poor F650 looked ok, but was now sans one left-side forward turn signal. Alas, the mighty BMW plastic succumbed to its meeting with the Earth. <br />
<br />
Amazingly, the obstacles that had just recently dismounted me seem to have shrunken markedly in the photos of the aftermath. I wish I’d gotten my camera out more quickly before they morphed into those inconsequential pebbles!<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0343-MosquitoPass-Thesceneofthe.jpg'><br />
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I actually didn’t have the presence of mind to take any photos until after <i>the second fall</I>. Yup, you read that right. Luckily, I’d previously seen that famous video of the 90lb/41kg woman picking up the fallen 900lb/408kg Honda Goldwing, so after my heart rate had settled down from the first tumble, I put my back to the beast, grabbed the handlebar and the rear passenger rail and more easily than I expected I lifted bike from its prone and sorrowful position. Once sitting steady, I surveyed the situation. I walked up the trail about 30 meters and it didn’t look like it would be any worse, so I decided that I would unload all the gear from the bike and give it another go.<br />
<br />
Hence, the second tip over.<br />
<br />
I made it up the trail another few yards, but barely managed to keep the rubber on the rock three or four times in that space of time. So, once again I stopped and pondered my course of action. In the end, sanity prevailed, and I began to rock the bike back and forth in an attempt to walk the front end across the slope and eventually have it point downhill. I got it around OK and started down. Unfortunately, I once again suffered the front wheel having a different direction of travel than intended and came off the bike for the second time. For good measure, this time the bike landed on the opposite time than the first fall so that my Touratech fairing protection bars could receive an equal dose of that certain “patina” that tells no lies. (BTW, those bars did their duty and no damage occurred to the bike’s plastic panels.<br />
<br />
It was at this point that I noticed the casualty of the first fall. The sad, left-side front turn indicator dangled limply from its wires, but was still operable. Interestingly, the indicator was undamaged, but the silver plastic fascia plate that attaches it to the bike snapped at the connection point. Did I mention that the second fall put the tires higher than the handlebars? It was also fun trying to pivot the bike around to get the tires on the downhill side. So, for the second and hopefully last time I used the he-man bike lift procedure to right the bike. At least at this point I’d already removed everything, so she was decidedly lighter. <br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0343-MosquitoPass-Notabadplacet.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0343-MosquitoPass-Tipover2Mediu.jpg'><br />
<br />
Oxygen break:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0343-MosquitoPass-OxygenDepriva.jpg'><br />
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I checked the bike over and I was pleasantly surprised to find that the only damage was the sacrificial turn indicator and some scratches on the Touratech fairing guards. Imagine that, I bought a product that actually did what I had hoped it would do! I was able to re-fasten the turn indicator to the bike with some expertly applied black electrical tape. Once I’d piled my gear back on, she looked pretty dirty, but no worse for wear than earlier in the day. <br />
<br />
So, I ingloriously headed back down the pass road whence I came. As it was now getting fairly late in the day, I decided to jump back onto U.S. 9 and follow it south to where it connects with U.S. 285/U.S. 24. A few miles before it arrives in the Buena Vista area (And for some reason, the locals insist on pronouncing it BYU-NA instead of BWAY-NA) there is a KOA campground that will provide me refuge from the cruel world for one night<br />
<br />
Safe haven:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0352-BuenaVista-KOAAMedium.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0352-BuenaVista-KOABMedium.jpg'><br />
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Although safe, the KOA campground was hardly relaxing. As in the stereotype, I was sandwiched between a group of young rednecks, who on my left side, spent the evening playing a version of the “Quarters” drinking game as the slowly dimming headlights of their 4x4’s shined across their picnic table and onto my tent. On the other side, I had the proverbial young family with the overwhelmed mother of three small children, any one of which might seemingly solve this nation’s energy problems by serving as a dynamo.<br />
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Luckily for me, the liquor store in the nearby town provided me with a couple of 20 ounce/.6 liter bottles of some local micro-brew so I could easily withdraw into a cocoon of my own. That and a few recorded hours of the “Sons of anarchy” television program and I was pretty much out like a light by 10pm. I awoke around 1am to hear the patter of raindrops on the roof of my tent. I hate packing up in the rain, but quickly fell back into slumber. When the first light of day arrived at about 6am, I had no intention of getting out of the sack, even though I could no longer hear any rain hitting the ground. Alas, my 48 year old prostate conspired with my bladder to force me up, so I gave in. After my morning constitutional, I made breakfast and started packing up while the rest of the campground’s inhabitants began to slowly rouse.<br />
<br />
The weather seemed to be unsettled as I packed up:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0354-Day2-HeadingforCottonwoodP.jpg'><br />
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Sure enough, I’d wasted enough time while deciding to get out of the sack that the clouds found me and it began to rain. There’s nothing like starting out the day all hot and sweaty while hurriedly packing up while wearing all your riding gear to keep it dry under your so-called “Breathable” rain gear. No sooner had I completed the task did the roving band of renegade clouds move on to some other poor sucker somewhere across the wide, flat valley. Of course, a quick glance to the west revealed that my first destination for today, Cottonwood Pass, which is about 20 miles west of Buena Vista was completely shrouded in. I pondered just heading south along the nicely paved U.S. 285, but that, I decided would defeat the purpose of owning this ostensibly “dual-sport” motorbike, so I steeled myself to some more bad weather and headed out.<br />
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The road heading west out of Buena Vista is paved all the way to the summit of Cottonwood Pass (12,126 feet/3,696m) and then is a graded dirt road down the western side. It was a pleasant ride toward the pass as the weather seemed to be breaking around me.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0355-CottonwoodPass-UnsettledWe.jpg'><br />
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The closer I came to the pass, the curvier became the road. Normally not a problem, but a little concerning as the roadway became increasingly wet as I rode. The infamous “Tar Snakes” were everywhere, and it was pretty cold to boot. Still, I soldiered on. When I was within the last mile to the summit, a wonderful break opened in the clouds and the sun streamed in for a few short moments. It wasn’t enough to reveal the fog shrouded summit, but gave me a few moments to snap some pics:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0355-CottonwoodPass-NearingS-1.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0355-CottonwoodPass-NearingSumm.jpg'><br />
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This “sucker hole” (As we used to call them up in the great northwest) only lasted a few moments and then vanished as quietly as it came.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0355-CottonwoodPass-NearingS-3.jpg'><br />
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A few minutes later found me dismounted at the summit. Visibility was only about 100m at the top, but I had the summit to myself.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0355-CottonwoodPass-SummitMediu.jpg'><br />
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On the west side of the pass, I found myself immersed in another of those two-wheel conundrums. It was a beautifully graded dirt road, but was covered in a thick film of slimy magnesium chloride and mud. My inexperience in the non-paved world made me extra cautious, especially in those sharp switchback turns. Luckily, the lower I went the better the road condition became as the moisture content lessened. I started to feel pretty good until some wise guy on a BMW R1200GS blew by me like I was an unwanted speed bump on his road to adventure riding glory. I knew he must be an adventure riding god as he has one spare TKC-80 strapped to each of his panniers. I marveled at his mastery of the slime (While I was able) and could only wonder “When will I be like that. . .”<br />
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I continued on, chastened by my inexperience, but riding on two wheels nonetheless. I stopped for a few moments at an overlook.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0355-CottonwoodPass-WestSideBMe.jpg'><br />
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It looked like there was a break in the weather down in the valley ahead:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0355-CottonwoodPass-WestSideAMe.jpg'><br />
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The closer I came to Taylor Reservoir at the bottom, the finer it looked:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0366-NearingTaylorReserviorMedi.jpg'><br />
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By the time I reached bottom, it had opened up to this view:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0367-8-TaylorReserviorPanoramaM.jpg'><br />
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When it’s good, it’s great, in Colorado.<br />
<br />
When the morning began, I had a vague idea that I would ride on through to Crested Butte, CO (Another vaunted Colorado ski town) and then up and over Kebler Pass, but I’d done that just last Fall, so I pulled out the map to look for somewhere I hadn’t been before. (BTW, one thing I have learned over time is that GPS units suck as a tool for deciding which way to go while you’re sitting at the side of the road. Zoom out to see the big view and all the roads you are interested in disappear. Paper maps rule for this purpose)<br />
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I saw on the map a dirt road that runs to a little out of the way town named Tin Cup. Don’t know the history, but it sounded interesting, and I’d never been there. So off I went, actually heading back east for a while until I arrived in Tin Cup. Let me mention here, that if your idea of a good time is to have ATV’s piloted by pre-pubescent children buzzing around you like flies, this is definitely the place you want to be. It seemed like there was some sort of teenage ATV Woodstock going on in that area. I stopped just long enough to snap a few pics n Tin Cup and then continued on my way:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0369-TinCupTownHall-ChurchAMedi.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0369-TinCupTownHall-ChurchBMedi.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0369-TinCupTownsiteMedium.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0369-TinCupHouseMedium.jpg'><br />
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A few miles outside of Tin Cup I started to hear a new rattling noise coming from somewhere on the bike. Of course, my first dreaded thought was that yesterday’s off-bike excursions had caused some until now hidden damage and for which I was about to pay the price--in the middle of nowhere. I pulled the bike over and spent a few minutes looking things over. At first, I didn’t see anything amiss, which actually made me feel worse as I suspected some deep, mysterious engine issue. To my great relief however, I finally spotted the culprit:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0374-ChainGuardEscapeattemptAMe.jpg'><br />
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I guess that after so many miles of rocky and wash boarded dirt roads, even the most loyal bike parts begin to revolt and try to part ways with the bike. It seems that my pre-ride inspection this morning wasn’t good enough as I never noticed that the two bolts which hold the chain guard to the swing arm were now AWOL and the chain guard was rubbing on the chain. So, off came all the gear from the bike again, as the silly little Torx tool that I needed to fully remove the chain guard and its accompanying mud flap was stored under the bike’s seat. A few minutes later, the chain guard-ectomy was complete and the offending parts were quite insecurely fastened to the top of my gear pile with bungee cords. And off I went. . . <br />
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The rest of this portion of the ride, I must say, was the most enjoyable of the trip. I’d never been on this road. The weather was by now sunny and getting warmer. Although I didn’t know what the terrain was like on the road, and I soon realized that I was climbing up to another pass (That was not marked on the map), everything just seemed to be clicking at this point. My anxiousness was relieved a little when I passed a group of three Jeeps on the way up. They nicely pulled over to let me pass, but in my mind I was just thinking “They may come in handy if I fall over again up the road somewhere.” No such thing happened however.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0375-CumberlandPassApproachMedi.jpg'><br />
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Although there were a few rocky switchbacks that had me standing on the pegs and gingerly going around, the road was in pretty good shape, and before long I found myself on the top of Cumberland Pass.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0375-CumberlandPassMedium.jpg'><br />
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The ride back down the other side was pretty steep at the top, but became more gradual toward the bottom. Fairly soon I was riding swiftly though a quite alpine forest and knew I was approaching civilization as I spotted the first few vacation cabins tucked into the woods by the roadside. I soon arrived in Ohio City, CO, which seemed quite busy for a little burg in the middle of nowhere. I could see that the town folk were blessed by the dollars brought in by the tourists, but cursed by the dreaded ATV. There were quite a few signs around town reminding folks that ATV riding on town streets was verboten! I slowly rode though town admiring the eclectic mix of many modern, beautiful log homes, restored 1800’s log cabins, and the odd ramshackle mobile home. Heading out of the only paved road, I was greeted by a good road and no traffic:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0378-LeavingOhioCityMedium.jpg'><br />
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I was lucky that my strapped on parts had not fallen off the bike as I headed out of the hills. I decided that I would swing into Gunnison, CO to find a hardware store where I could purchase some ersatz bolts to fasten my rebellious parts back into their rightful place. As they say “Ace is the place” and I soon found the Ace hardware store. Actually, it wasn’t that soon, as I spent about 15 minutes riding around in circles trying to find the TrueValue hardware store that Garmin insisted was right on the main road.<br />
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Ace truly was the place and they were nice enough to allow this mud-encrusted wanderer to go in and out of the store a few times as I test fit some bolts on the swing arm. Eventually I found the right ones (6mm, 1.0 thread BTW) and went to the task in the broiling hot, black asphalt parking lot:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0379-AceisthePlaceAMedium.jpg'><br />
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A few sweaty minutes later and I was rewarded with two shiny new bolts to spiff up the bike:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0379-AceisthePlaceBMedium.jpg'><br />
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Sweaty and hungry, it was now time to find some chow. I was very tempted to just run into the McDonald’s which was a few hundred meters down the road, but I fought the temptation and decided to just ride round the town a little bit to see if I could find a good little mom & pop. I was rewarded shortly as I found a nice little Mexican joint with outside seating. The food was nothing to write home about, but one of the locals spied me studying the map and asked me where I was riding to. I responded “I don’t know, that’s what I’m trying to decide”. The one road that looked good on the map was not recommended by this gent. He told me it was steep and rocky near the top and probably would need a 4x4 to make it. So I scratched that one off and went back to attacking my humongous burrito.<br />
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Surprisingly, a middle aged mother with three small children had overheard our conversation and chimed in with a suggestion to ride up the Ohio Pass road. She gave it a good recommendation, and after finding it on the map I saw that it was a road I hadn’t been on before and that it eventually connected with the Kebler Pass road, which I had been on before and enjoyed. Her suggestion was accepted with thanks and after downing my Coke and ruminating for a few minutes, I was off toward what would become my last two passes of the weekend.<br />
<br />
The paved road heading toward Ohio Pass was a nice, curvy one with vistas fit for Colorado. Whether to the left:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0381-OhioPassRoad-LonelyCabinMe.jpg'><br />
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To the right:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0381-OhioPassRoad-DistantPeaksB.jpg'><br />
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Or straight ahead, one couldn’t find a bad view:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0381-OhioPassRoad-DistantPeaksA.jpg'><br />
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Just before the pavement ended, I saw this house sitting a few hundred meters down a spur road. I swung back around to take a closer look:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0381-OhioPassRoad-Quintessentia.jpg'><br />
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If Hollywood’s supposed creation of the American myth is a truth, then this might be the house that the rest of the world thinks of when they think of American and the Old West. A teepee and buckboard wagon in every yard. . .<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0381-OhioPassRoad-ATeePeeforeve.jpg'><br />
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The dirt road up to Ohio Pass was a little rough in spots, but easily do-able. Some good views were had as I approached the summit:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0381-OhioPassRoad-UnknownPeakMe.jpg'><br />
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Ohio pass itself (10,093 feet/3,076m) is fairly non-descript as it is one of those type that are very broad, and in this case low enough in altitude as to be forested. It was a cool, dark respite from the strong sun on the way up. I didn’t stop for a photo here as there was nothing of note to snap. Less than a mile down the trail, Ohio Pass road merges into Kebler Pass road and I turned north and west to go on over:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/DSCN0388-KeblerPassBMedium.jpg'><br />
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It was now about 2pm and as I headed down the lee side of Kebler Pass my mind kept me busy trying to decide if I would continue on somewhere for another day, or start to head east and back home. My back and shoulders were a little sore after so much dirt riding (And maybe those bike-presses added to the soreness. . .) so as I merged back onto pavement at CO 133 near Paonia, CO, I decided to head for home and up and over the last and lowest pass of the weekend. CO 133 is another of those wonderful Colorado roads that begins a tortuous journey down in a river canyon and then wends its way up through forests and ranchland eventually to alpine meadows and small stands of Aspen trees. My last pass, McClure Pass (8,763 feet/2,670m) is the only pass that I went over on this roundabout ride that was lower than tree line, and in fact, lower in elevation than my own home.<br />
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I didn’t stop to snap a photo at the top of McClure. This is one pass that’s no slouch for beauty, even though it’s low on the elevation scale. Here’s a photo I snapped a few years ago as the Fall colors started to get into swing:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2009%2008%2013-15%20-%20Backroads%20and%20Passes/PICT0001-McClurePass-Fall2003.jpg'><br />
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The road back down the other side is another not to be missed smorgasbord of curves as one is lead lower and lower and eventually deposited into the wide Roaring Fork River valley at Carbondale. I stopped for gas and headed north on CO 82 which connects the luxury of Aspen to the working class homes of Glenwood Springs. I’d intended to connect to Gypsum, CO via another dirt road that I’d ridden in the past, but a sudden deluge of wind and rain helped to cause me to miss the turn-off, so I decided to continue north to Glenwood Springs and merge onto the I-70 super-slab.<br />
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There’s not much else to say. 2 ½ hours later I exited I-70 at Idaho Springs and finished off this wonderful ride on the same dirt track that it had begun the morning before. Virginia Canyon and “Oh my God!” road was the perfect, sunset-lit end to this great ride.<br />
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Cheers,<br />
<br />
Dan K.Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-41624619339785091872009-08-31T20:17:00.000-06:002009-08-31T20:17:04.311-06:002009.07 - A North Dakota State of MindA North Dakota State of Mind<br />
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A few weeks ago I made inquiries about what to visit in North Dakota. It is the last of the 49 land-locked states for me to visit, and I'd been putting it off forever because it's not one of those places you pass through on the way to somewhere else. At least if you don't live that far north. Anyway, I rec'd a few suggestions and I conjured up a plan to ride all the way up to Manitoba and Saskatchewan over a four-day weekend. I did the ride last Friday through Monday, but it didn't go quite as planned. All told, I clicked off about 1,500 miles with about 200 of it on dirt roads. <br />
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Realized the first day that I'd forgotten to get a Canadian insurance card from my insurance company. Called them up and figured they could email one to me and I could print it out somewhere along the way. They told me our northern neighbors would only accept an original. So, I stopped at AAA to see if they could write me a short term policy. Also a no-go. So, the first day saw Canada crossed off the list. Later on I realized it would have been a near iron butt experience to get that far and back in 4 days anyway, so no disappointment on my part.<br />
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The first day I rode from my home near Black Hawk, CO (About 40 miles west of Denver at 9,200' to Custer State Park in South Dakota. I managed to throw in about 75 miles of dirt and gravel roads on this stretch, although they were pretty straight affairs as is the way on the great plains of Wyoming. Spent that night at a campground in Custer State Park. If you've never been to that park I highly recommend it. Scenic, excellent curvaceous roads, excellent campgrounds with HOT showers. Had a hellacious series of thunderstorms move though in the night that didn't finish up until about 9am the next morning, so packing up and eating breakfast were soggy affairs.<br />
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There were breaks in the clouds however as I started out on day 2 with one of the most excellent roads I've been on in a long time. Iron Mountain Road (US 16a) heads north out of the park and winds it's way up to Mt. Rushmore. It has the absolute tightest reducing-radius curves I've been on in a long, long time. There are a few one lane wide tunnels, and two sections where the road has to make 360 degree turns as it crosses over itself on massive wooden trestles. And to make it more exciting, the road was still quite wet from last evenings storms and the battered trees deposited their leaves and branches at strategic points on some of the curves.<br />
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Since I'd been to Mt. Rushmore before, I decided to stop again and donate $10 to their huge parking structure and snap a couple of pics. Really, all I wanted to do was purchase a decal to slap on the side of my embarrassingly black "Adventure Rider" panniers. By now, the sun was in full bloom and the day looked to be good one. From Rushmore, I headed north and a little east, once again managing to add about 50 miles of dirt road to this ride. That put my total at about 125 miles, so I firgure it's OK to tell everyone that this is a dual-sport ride. I had to summon up some courage and use my feeble skills however as one 20 mile section of the road was getting is surface redone in a nice thick coat of fresh P gravel. Pucker factor increased, but I managed to keep the wheels under me and quickly learned that when the front end wants to wallow, slowing down in gear was NOT the way to go, and speeding up required too much courage. I discovered that pulling in the clutch allowed the front wheel to come back under control nicely. I figure this is because the other two options involved pushing the front wheel through the deep gravel, whereas coasting did not. That's my theory anyway, and since I didn't crash, I'll stick by it.<br />
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A couple of views of "The Rushmore Four"<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/NoDak2009/Rush0.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/NoDak2009/Rush2.jpg'><br />
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I finally arrived at the North Dakota border around 2pm and took the obligatory snap of the welcome sign. As you can see by the lack of photos in this "Illustrated" ride report, my biggest failing is that I hate to stop. Especially at this juncture as all the cars and trucks that I had laboriously passed over the last hour caught up and re-passed me in surprisingly little time.<br />
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The border, at last<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/NoDak2009/NoDak.jpg'><br />
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Since "Oh, Canada" was out of the plan, I decided to spend the night at Theodore Roosevelt National Park. Honestly, until I did some Google-mapping a few days before, I'd never even heard of this particular park. As luck would have it, it is quite a nice little park and I found a good campsite near the river. Of course, being a National Park, there are no hot showers here, just mosquitos and gnats. The little town of Medora provided me with a few cans of beer to help me spend the waning hours of the evening along with a good book. It was quite a sight as I passed over interstate 94, which separates the park, to see absolutely no traffic on it. I crossed over it a few times that late afternoon and early evening and I think I saw only one or two vehicles on it. Boy, I wish it were like that back home!<br />
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Theodore Roosevelt national Park<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/NoDak2009/TRNatPark.jpg'><br />
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This evening, I was spared the nocturnal lightning and thunder show, but was awoken before sunrise by the ungodly number of song birds who woke up before me. I've been a lot of places in my time, but this was the loudest, heartiest morning serenade the winged ones have ever given me. I finally gave up at about 5:45am and started packing up.<br />
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I was out of the park by 6:45 and had a nice country breakfast at one of the cafes in Medora. Since my carefully laid-out plans to ride further north were now null-and-void, I used breakfast time to decide where to ride next. The muses directed me to head west into Montana for a bit and then back south once more. I spied another good section of dirt road on my map, and decided that this was the way to go. Conveniently, it would lead me back into Wyoming a few hours later about 30 miles from Devil's Tower National Monument. Yes, another place I've been before. To be precise, I've been there 4 times already in the past 20 years or so! Once each on a Honda VF750 Interceptor, a BMW K75, A Ural Patrol, and now I'd be adding the F650 to the list. Hey, it's a beautiful place, and I could score another decal for the side of the panniers! <br />
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Plan made, breakfast digesting, and the road beckoned. I hit the trail. The southeast edge of Montana is a really beautiful area. I'm glad I rode through it. Nothing but miles and miles of rolling hills and tightly wound circular hay bales as far as the eye could see. Once again, my ignorance doesn't allow me to fathom what on earth they need all that hay for?! It looked to me as if this were the nation's secret national hay repository stockpile. Bemused, but still headed south, I moved on. Disappointingly, my map was a little outdated, and those bastiges had paved a good section of the dirt road that I'd chosen to travel. I chalked up about another 30 miles or so of grave and dirt before being spit out across the border into Wyoming once more.<br />
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The last stretch of dirt road in Montana<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/NoDak2009/MTDirt.jpg'><br />
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The roads in the area near Devils Tower are in very good condition and also feature many nice elevation changes and a good volume of curves. I stopped at the park entrance and partook of lunch at the blood-sucking tourist trap that doubles as a campground. Bad food, bad service, but only $9 for a cheeseburger (Add $2.50 for the deluxe cheeseburger, which includes tomato, lettuce, onion and french fries!). After choking down lunch and scoring another decal for the bags, it was southward bound once more.<br />
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What are those lights in the sky? What's that strange music?<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/NoDak2009/Devil2.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/NoDak2009/Devil0.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/NoDak2009/Devil1.jpg'><br />
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Tonight's destination, I decided, would be Guernsey State Park, a few hours to the south. The ride there was once again spectacular. Curves, good roads, and hardly any traffic at all. The past three days had all been like that for most of the day. Just the way I like it, but, oh so infrequently found. The closer I got to Guernsey, the windier and and cloudier it became as the usual afternoon thunderheads began to take their evil shape in the sky directly above where I was heading. (You know why Wyoming is so windy? It's because Nebraska suc. . . Oh, I won't go there. . .) Miraculously, nothing more than a few huge raindrops fell on me as it seemed every huge sweeping curve brought me in an end run around one thunderhead after another.<br />
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I arrived in Guernsey about 5pm on sunday afternoon. Not much going on there outside of the National Guard airport (C130's and Blackhawks visible all around). I rode over to the park and the nice attendant, noting that I snuck up on her on my BMW "Not like those Harleys" she said, benevolently decided to charge me half-price for entrance and camping this evening. $10.00 U.S. bought me the whole ticket. "Besides" she told me "The place is really empty because we're "Silting the reservoir" (Whatever that means) "so the water level is really low". "Only the hardcore campers are out here now." What she didn't mention is that the water level was not the only thing "really low" so was the general maintenance and cleanliness of the various camping areas around the easst side of the park. Barren too. I was going to suck it up anyway and decided to head back into town to see if I could pick up a few beers to help take the edge off in camp this night. When I rode into town however, I saw this really inviting mom and pop motel right next to a good looking bar/restaurant, and my plans changed in a heartbeat.<br />
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My wallet greatly lightened by the cost of a motel room (Plus the $10.00 "discount" fee I donated to the Wyoming State Park system), my bike unpacked, my body showered, I plopped myself down in the bar and enjoyed a few Fat Tires as I ate a really good piece of prime rib. This took up most of the rest of the evening, and I headed back to the motel to do my daily chain lube, when I came across an F650 admirer in the parking lot. We talked for a few minutes about KLR's vs F650's and even about his friend's Ural. What, another Ural? Those things are getting too popular, it might be time to sell mine. Our conversation was beginning to labor on, and the beer I brought back from the bar (Oh, I can't let you out the door with an open container sir! Well, maybe this one time. . .) was getting warm. Luckily, the heavens began to unleash their nightly rain dance and we both went our separate ways. I to my room, my beer, and a little telly, and he to wherever he came from. . .<br />
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The last day began a little soggy as last night's T-storms lasted quite a while and things didn't dry up by morning. Today was going to be a windy one also. I managed to fit in the last of the back roads before I was forced to slip onto I-25 to head south through Cheyenne and sneak back across the border into Colorado. I spent quite a while battling shifting side winds and then head winds, and then side winds again. All the time wondering why it never seems to be strong winds from behind. Hmmm?<br />
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I jumped off the interstate as soon as I could and used those wonderful parallel farm roads to work my way south and west until I finally picked up U.S.34 which runs up the Big Thompson canyon all the way to the town of Estes Park (Remember "The Shining"?) and Rocky Mountain National Park. Again, I've been there a million times as it's only an hour from my house, but it was too early in the day to head straight home and besides, there's a really good restaurant on the north side of town that serves breakfast all day and I hadn't eaten a bit since I woke.<br />
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For one last time on this trip I would slink into another tourist shop to pick up a decal to slap on my panniers. Now it was time to jump on my last highway to home. Colorado Route 7 is known as the "Peak to Peak" highway and it runs for some 40 miles south from Estes Park and right past my little mountain subdivision. And there is not more than a 1/4 mile stretch of tarmac that is straight in all those miles. Being a Monday, it was thankfully also lightly traveled (Can be a pain sometimes on weekends) and I enjoyed those last, curvy miles very much as the afternoon thunderheads began to form overhead. In one final bit of good timing, I navigated the last dirt road mile to my home with the first big, fat raindrops pinging on my helmet. No sooner had I rolled up the driveway had the heavens opened. I ran into the house to the slobbered greetings of my retarded labrador retriever and my wife. Yeah, they were both a little slobbering. <br />
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It's great to travel, especially such a good motorcycle trip, but it's always good to arrive home.<br />
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Cheers,<br />
<br />
Dan K.<br />
Balck Hawk, CODan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-20028852364789333562009-08-31T20:16:00.000-06:002009-08-31T20:16:20.502-06:002009.06 - China Adventure<i>This is a series of posts I made to the MyChinaMoto web site when Yuan and I made our most recent trip to China in May & June of 2009.</i><br />
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2009.05.26<br />
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My wife Yuan and I were in Shanghai up until yesterday afternoon. Winston Sa graciously invited us to come by and visit his shop, so we swung by in the early afternoon.<br />
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What a great shop. The rebuilt and customized Changs he has on sale are beautiful. We spent some time talking bikes and discussing their upcoming ride to Tibet. If only I had the time, I'd love to make that trip.<br />
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We also met Peter (Sorry Peter, I didn't catch your last name) who's a transplant from Germany. He works with Winston at the shop. He'll also be going on the trip to Tibet. Winston told me of Peter's recent solo ride on his CJ from China all the way to Pakistan. There are some great photos of that trip framed and hanging on the shop wall. Peter's rig really looks the part too.<br />
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Nick Barton came by also and treated us with a short CJ ride to lunch. Seems Peter and Winston are not the only globe-trotting riders hanging out in Shanghai these days. Nick's also been in China for years and has lived in the U.S. and of course his native U.K. Like me, Nick has trouble with the local language, so we hit it off well. Thanks Nick for taking the time to ride out and meet us. I felt sorry for you as we battled (Well, the taxi driver battled) the horrendous traffic to get us over to the train station for our short ride to HangZhou. I'd hate to be clutching along a 3mph in traffic on the bike. <br />
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BTW, the train to HangZhou is a very modern high-speed one that reached up to 175kph on the way. A smooth and interesting ride.<br />
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Anyway, no riding photos to share yet, so here are a few shots of Winston's shop in ShangHai. Sorry Winston, when I was taking these parting shops you were too deep in dealing with customers for me to bother you for a pic.<br />
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Cheers,<br />
<br />
Dan K.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/3.jpg'><br />
CJ Sidecars - That's Peter's bike on the left, with the dual spare tires<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/4.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/5.jpg'><br />
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That's Nick on the left (He owns a few Guzzi's also), and Peter on the right.<br />
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=============================================================================<br />
<br />
2009.06.03<br />
<br />
Well, I've been traipsing around China for the past nine days and have only been "looking" at motorbikes so far. We're resting up in the hotel room this evening in Nanjing after another exhausting day of walking around and soaking up culture. Today we visited the old Presidential Palace from the first Replublic's days and Sun Yat Sen's grand mausoleum/park. <br />
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The real fun starts soon however as we arrive in Beijing tomorrow late in the afternoon. Andy reports that the GS is sitting outside idling and waiting for me to arrive. His new job won't start for another week or so, so it looks like he and Sidecar Jimbo will we shepherding me around for a few days. Woo Hoo!<br />
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In the mean time, I hate to post my pathetic, un-cropped, non-color corrected, ham-fisted, tourist snapshots on this forum after I've seen so many excellent photographs. Regardless, here are a few non-ride related snaps from our trip so far. We've covered Shanghai, Hangzhou, Wuzhen, Suzhou, and now Nanjing.<br />
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We only spent one evening in Shanghai, so of course we visited the Xin Tian Di shopping/restaurant area that day. (Fairly disappointing IMHO, just another consumption opportunity). It was raining a bit that evening, but we went for a river boat ride anyway. <br />
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Anyone who's seen any photos of Shanghai have seen this:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SHRiver.jpg'><br />
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Then it was on to Hangzhou where we visited the Lin Ying Temple and of course, West Lake:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/LYTemple0.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/LYTemple1.jpg'><br />
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Introducing my lovely wife, Yuan:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/LYTemple2.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/WestLake0.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/WestLake1.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/WestLake2.jpg'><br />
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Afterwards, we moved on to Wuzhen. I really liked this place, but the interesting part was fairly small and it took a bit of stretch to spend two days there without seeing everything twice. <br />
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It started off badly when we made the mistake of joining a tour group to start this visit. The bus ride from Hangzhou to Wuzhen was pleasant enough except for the forced "rest" stop at what turned out to be a captive sales pitch for tea company's roadside factory outlet store.<br />
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We arrived in Wuzhen at about the same time as 72 or 73 other tour buses and proceeded to get herded like cattle through the labyrinthine, narrow passages of the eastern-side of the old town. It was stifling hot and impossible to hear one loudspeaker shouting tour guide's spiel over the others as they tried to speed their charges through everything as quickly as possible. My wife and I could stand this for only about 15 minutes and decided to ditch the group and gain some respite with a few beers and some food at a side-street restaurant.<br />
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Luckily, the west side of Wuzhen, although still fairly crowded with tour-ons like us, was exponentially more interesting. This might be because one has to pay RMB120 to gain entry by traveling about 50 meters across what would otherwise be an easily circumvented pond, via boat.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/WZ0.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/WZ1.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/WZ2.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/WZ3.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/WZ5.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/WZ7.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/WZ10.jpg'><br />
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After Wuzhen, we returned to Hangzhou to retreive out left-luggage and took a bus to Suzhou. I was looking forward to Suzhou, as I had seen a television program about it on CCTV9 a few months ago and it looked to be much bigger and nicer, but the same character as Wuzhen.<br />
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It was nice, but Yuan decided she'd seen enough canals and boats for a while, so we visited two other local landmarks while we were there. An exquisite formal garden known as the "Humble Administrator's Garden. It was huge, beautiful, but hardly humble. We also visited the park and tower at Tiger Hill.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SZ-HAGarden0.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SZ-HAGarden1.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SZ-HAGarden2.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SZ-TigerHill.jpg'><br />
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That was our last stop before heading to Nanjing, our present location. I think that of all the cities I've visited over my 5 trips to China, Nanjing is the nicest so far. Unbelievably, the traffic is actually bearable here! We actually saw streets, both avenues and residential, with little traffic on them. Sure, there are some congested areas, and we didn't really travel at rush hour, but it was actually nice to see some space between moving vehicles for a change. This could be attributable to the fact that Nanjing "only" has about 5 million inhabitants. Also, the skies here, although still hazy, manage to allow a level of blueness that hitherto has escaped my gaze.<br />
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I did however have my first near-death experience here. It occurred when leaving our hotel this morning. I'm so fixated on looking all around when I am about to cross a road I was nearly creamed by a speeding bicycle that was riding on the sidewalk (That's "pavement" for my Brit friends :) ). I swear that I was only a centimeter away from him when he sped right past my face.<br />
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Anyway, here a a few pics from our first day in Nanjing yesterday. I haven't downloaded today's pics from the cameras yet, so you're spared any further boredom.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/NJRiver0.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/NJRiver1.jpg'><br />
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Lastly, just a little bit about how it's like to get a reminder that I live in a country with a history as short as a second-grader's attention span. I already knew that my wife can trace her family line back an amazing 74 generations, and I remember that she'd told me about her grandfather, who was a General in the Gou Min Dong Army. <br />
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Today, we visited the old Republic's Presidential Palace, which is built upon the ground that held the short-lived palace of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom. It lasted from 1850 and the last remnants were finally cleared out about 1871 when the Qing imperials finally overcame them.<br />
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Well, it seems that my wife's great, great, great, great, great. . . grandfather is the general that led the Qing army that captured Nanjing (Then called Tianjing) and burned the palace to the ground:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ZhangYuanGarden.jpg'><br />
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That was a cool history lesson for me.<br />
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Well, that's all for now. Perhaps I'll have some actual ride photos the next time I update the thread.<br />
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Cheers, <br />
<br />
Dan K<br />
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===================================================================================<br />
<br />
2009.06.04<br />
<br />
Just arrived in BJ late this afternoon. Spoke with Andy on the phone and we're going to try to sort out the driver's license situation tomorrow morning and get organized for riding.<br />
<br />
Unless there's an unforeseen issue, I expect to be heading out on two wheels on Saturday morning. I am psyched for this trip, and to have Andy and Jimbo to keep me pointed in the right direction takes a lot of apprehension out of my mind.<br />
<br />
Cheers,<br />
<br />
Dan K.<br />
<br />
===================================================================================<br />
<br />
2009.06.05<br />
<br />
Well, yesterday was our first full day in BJ, and there was a lot to do in the morning to prepare for riding. Firstly, we met Andy face-to-face for the first time at a German Bakery on Lucky Street. Of course, when we arrived we first walked right past it as I didn't see the "Bakery" part of the name, only "Restaurant". After a walk down the street and back we returned and I saw the "Bakery" sign, so we settled down outside in the shade to wait for Andy. Unbeknownst to us, he was already enjoying his coffee sitting inside the shop. Luckily, we weren't sitting too long before I went inside to use the toilet and spotted him.<br />
<br />
Our first paperwork task for the day was to get a copy of the Police registration from our hotel as we were not certain if it was needed when we went to the Traffic Police office to apply for the temporary driving license. We brought that with us from the hotel. Andy and I discussed biking plans and organizing, and were soon joined by Kin (I didn't record his family name). He is the General Manager of the BMW Motorrad shop in BJ and would be helping us with procuring the bike. Kin kindly provided us with instructions and directions to the Traffic Police office, and off we went.<br />
<br />
The Traffic Police office is in Terminal 3 of BCIA, so we caught a taxi back out to the airport. Amazingly, the office was empty and the three clerks were helpful and smiling, thus dashing my hopes of providing yet more "Chinese bureaucrats!" stories to lore. The beginning of the process was simply to fill out a form in English and Chinese, take a few mug shots and pay 30RMB for the photos. <br />
<br />
Next stop was to the health clinic located on the floor above for a "health check". I didn't really understand what the health check would be about, but it was here where the mortal bounds of gravity pulled me crashing back to Earth. Again, the folks here were pleasant and professional. However, as I walked over to the nurses desk I saw her pull out a book from the drawer which I hadn't seen since 1983 when I was first inducted into the U.S. Army. My heart suddenly sank.<br />
<br />
It seems our very first test was for color acuity, a personal attribute that is lacking in my bundles of rods and cones. Most people have seen these before, they are circular photos of a mass of different colored dots that use certain colors to spell out words or numbers or draw simple images, like cows or rabbits. If your eyes can see those colors, you see the numbers, if not, all you see is an amorphous blob of dots.<br />
<br />
Well, no amount of bluffing would help me here, I simply can't see the numbers everyone else sees. I tried to get my wife, Yuan, to tell me the numbers, but alas, the staff knew enough English to realize this and asked her to step away.<br />
<br />
Of course, we tried a little cajoling and arguing (Afterall, I can see colors just fine in normal driving, and can certainly tell which lights are green and which are red), but it was no help. We asked for a Doctor's opinion, hoping he might be able to exercise discretion, or perhaps a little more in-depth test to supercede the Rohrschock I failed so miserably. However, those hopes were also dashed as the Doc simply pulled the book out again.<br />
<br />
So, that was the end of that. Without procuring the driving license, the folks providing the bike for rental could not take the risk of renting it to me. As you can guess, this morning was particularly depressing for me. I'd come up to BJ for the express intent of riding, and it looked like those plans were broken.<br />
<br />
Little did I know however, that wheels were turning, and movers were shaking things in the background . . .<br />
<br />
More as things develop.<br />
<br />
Cheers,<br />
<br />
Dan K.<br />
Bikeless in Beijing<br />
<br />
====================================================================================<br />
<br />
2009.06.07<br />
<br />
Picking up after my last post, things looked pretty grim. However, some folks were doing their best to help me get on two wheels while I am here, and in the end, I have some rides lined up for today, tomorrow, and an overnight trip on Wednesday. My depression is lifting, and life is good once again.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, I met up with Andy at Frank's Place for an afternoon of beer drinking and bike talk. PennStLong, whose been in BJ for the past few years was able to contact me and he rode his F650CS out and joined us. After a while we had a table full of bikers telling stories and enjoying the pleasant afternoon. It turns out that Long and I are both native New Yorkers and both spent some years in the Army, so we interspersed out talk with mentions of shared military experiences.<br />
<br />
<em>A dark and stormy night. . .</em><br />
<br />
Today's ride begins at 9am, so I jumped out of bed and into the shower at 7am in order to be prepared in time. After showering and dressing, I went about gathering my gear and unconsciously listening to the traffic noises outside the hotel windows. I hadn't pulled the curtains open as Yuan was still sleeping.<br />
<br />
The usual beep-beep of the cars and muffled voices were there, but at one point something caught my attention. At first, it sounded just like the noise that the snow plows make when they clear the road outside my home back in Colorado. A low rumble sound trailing off at the end as the plow moves further down the road. Of course, there's not much chance of snow here in BJ today, so that wasn't it.<br />
<br />
Then I heard it again. Only this time, the sound at the end made my blood curdle. That was definitely the sound of thunder! I pulled the curtains open to see a deluge coming down and I caught the last bit of a waning lightning flash.<br />
<br />
So, it looks like plans are dashed for yet another day! I'm trying to figure out for what I am being punished, but haven't a clue. <br />
<br />
Better luck tomorrow?<br />
<br />
Cheers,<br />
<br />
Dan K.<br />
<br />
====================================================================================<br />
<br />
2009.06.10<br />
<br />
Well, I wasted a bunch of time trying to figure out why my photos would not display. In the end, I gave up the ship and loaded all my pics up to PhotoBucket.com and then re-edited my posts to point there instead. Now they all show again.<br />
<br />
So, on with the tale. . .<br />
<br />
If there is one thing that one learns in China it is that flexibility is key. Go ahead, make plans, but you'll always need a plan B (And more often than not, it seems). Well, I finally have some riding to report after 2 1/2 weeks of being in country.<br />
<br />
Jim Bryant of Jimbos Classic Sidecars (www.mycj750.com or www.bmwsidecar.com) provided both the wheels (3, of course) and the local knowledge and great riding stories that allow me to write this report. Thanks again Jim!<br />
<br />
The plan was to leave Jim's shop on the north-east side of BJ at about 09:30. As my wife Yuan would not be joining us today, it was time for my first attempt at solo taxi travel in China. I've managed to avoid any responsibility for travel inside China for all my trips to China until this point. Now was the moment of truth.<br />
<br />
I do have a few words of Chinese vocabulary crammed into my disorganized brain. With that and an actual printed map showing Jim's shop's location (In Chinese characters even) I set off. <br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/Map2Jims.jpg'><br />
<br />
Just to be extra careful, I asked a bilingual hotel staffer to talk to the cabbie. The driver responded in the positive, and we were off.<br />
<br />
I knew fairly quickly that I was in trouble when the cabbie exited the hotel grounds and met the queue of taxis waiting to enter. He stopped and yelled out the window to the other drivers "Anyone know where Shun Huang Road is?" Even I understood this. He didn't even seem to slow down long enough to hear any of the shouted answers and we were off down the road.<br />
<br />
Everything seemed to be OK for a while and I even recognized a few landmarks that I remembered from the previous trip to Jim's shop. Sadly however, this didn't last, and I found myself trying to call Jim's cell number so he could direct the driver to the shop. Jim however was himself on his way to the shop and apparently doesn't answer his cell phone while he is riding (God forbid!). The driver attempted to ask me, but of course I couldn't possible respond intelligently. <br />
<br />
I had foolishly figured that a local taxi driver, provided with a map that clearly indicated some major roadways and had every necessary street labeled in Chinese would be able to follow the map. Well, I won't make that mistake again. Luckily, after trying Jim's number a few more times, he had finally arrived at the shop and heard his phone ring. Jim's 20 years of living in China have brought a good command of the lingua franca and he quickly set the cabbie straight and we were once again pointed in the right direction. <br />
<br />
Five minutes later we swung around the last corner in typical Chinese fashion, cutting across three lanes of traffic to avoid a flat-bed tractor trailer driver's attempt at a U-turn at a major intersection (There's a sight you don't see in the U.S. very much). <br />
<br />
It only took a few minutes of small talk and we were ready to go. Today, just Jim and I would be riding. Jim's wife, her cousin and his wife and their small son would be traveling with us, but they would be driving the Bryant family's small SUV. Oh, yes, and we can't forget Laser, Jim's young, rambunctious Labrador Retriever, who would be riding shotgun in Jim's tub.<br />
<br />
At this point I made my next mistake. I didn't really take the time to fully check out the controls on the CJ I would be riding. Although I have about 6 years experience piloting a hack, the CJ's transmission has different controls for reverse and the neutral finder from my Ural, plus the turn signal control is mounted vertically instead of the usual horizontal orientation. I was already very nervous about my first foray out into the raucous BJ traffic, and I kept honking my horn when I meant to activate the turn signals. That, and keep up with Jim, as if I lost sight of him, I would surely never be seen or heard from again. :)<br />
<br />
I managed to manage however, and we rode a few miles to make our first stop at a petrol station to top off the tanks.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC1.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC2.jpg'><br />
<br />
Gassed and ready to go, we continued on and quickly left the traffic congestion behind and I began to relax a little bit. Soon the straight, wide suburban roads with their segregated bicycle lanes gave way to more rural roads with no shoulders to speak of. <br />
<br />
The flat area around Beijing quickly turns into mountainous terrain. The road became curvy and narrower. The road surfaces were all in very good condition, but they were closely lined by stout trees that would act as crash barriers if any inattention to driving crept in. <br />
<br />
I was also reminded to be extra vigilant in overtaking. This is not something I've worried too much about since my days living in Germany. Back then, I was one of the slower vehicle drivers and if I planned to overtake, I had to ensure there were no Michael Schumacher jrs. speeding up behind me to do the same thing at high speed to me. <br />
<br />
Here in China, even though the speeds are much slower, there is no patience for any vehicle that is in front of you. It doesn't matter if it is already in the process of overtaking. If the rearmost driver thinks there is enough room to over take you at the same time, he or she will not hesitate. Since I was often overtaking slow lorries, bicycles, carts and what-not I had to remember to always make certain my rear was clear.<br />
<br />
We were blessed with a very clear-sky day, I guess as a result of the day long, unusual-for-Beijing (I'm told) rain showers we had the day previous. Nothing but a few puffy cumulus clouds floating about. There was a forecast for afternoon thunder showers, but so far, the sky and the roads were nothing but inviting.<br />
<br />
Before too long, we came across a place where the road we were traveling crossed Chang Cheng. Better known to us as The Great Wall, it seemed a good place to stop for a few photos, so we pulled over and marveled. <br />
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I was very happy to have this view of the Great Wall, as even though I'd been to Beijing in the past, I refused to go to Badaling, which is where millions of tourists go to crawl all over this great monument to China's history. (Of course, I'm just another of those tourists myself, I don't fail to see the irony) I've always shied away from tourist spots like that, and now I was able to experience the spectacle in a place where only a few "local" tourists were out and about. <br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC4.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC5.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC3.jpg'><br />
<br />
While Jim's relations spent some time climbing up to the top of the wall that you see at the top of those photos, he and I sat down to enjoy some cold water. <br />
<br />
[Note to all China newbies like me: An important adjective to memorize is "Bing de", which means "already cold", whether it is beer or water, the further you get away from tourist destinations, the more important it is to ask for Bing de Pijiu, or Bing de Shui. That's Pijiu (pee-gee-ooh) for beer and Shui (schway) for water. I won't bother to explain the inflections needed to pronounce them correctly, as any sweating traveler showing up at a stop asking for either is bound to be understood. Either that, or get yourself a Chinese spouse. I highly recommend it. :)<br />
<br />
While we were resting, Jim regaled me with a few stories about his round the globe travels a few years ago on a BMW sidecar rig. If you haven't read his ride report over on AdvRider.com, I highly recommend it.<br />
<br />
As we were talking, a few things reminded me of the dichotomy that is China these days. Firstly, I noted that this road we were gladly riding actually necessitated the destruction of a portion of the Great Wall. The road needed to breach it, so it looks like they just knocked it down at that spot. <br />
<br />
Secondly, I then realized that the kiosk that we had just purchased our cool water from was actually inhabiting the base of one of the Great Wall's many watchtowers! <br />
<br />
Even in my capitalist heart, I couldn't imagine these things happening in the U.S or Europe. That's progress. Better come visit while you can. . .<br />
<br />
Here's a shot of Jim and his wife Jiao and Laser at our rest spot:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC6.jpg'><br />
<br />
Jim and I were starting to get itchy feet, so we jumped on the bikes again and headed up the road toward a place that Jim knows well to stop for lunch. Our entourage would follow on after they got their fill of the Great Wall.<br />
<br />
As we headed on, the road went into more steeply rising terrain. Now, I've always been a bit of a drama artist when riding my sidecar in the canyons of Colorado. I love to throw the old body around when negotiating those sharp curves, especially the right-handers that only a hacker can know and love.<br />
<br />
Jim surprised me in that I never seemed to catch him shifting his weight around as we flew around those sharp curves. For my part, I was taken aback at the sheer numbers of reducing-radius turns that seem to be a forte of Chinese road engineers. So many of them seemed to be like that, and as I'd already witnessed a fellow hacker's failure to read a right-hand reducing radius curve properly a few years ago, I was extra cautious on the many we encountered this day.<br />
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This is the spot where Jim normally stops:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC7.jpg'><br />
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Today however, not being a weekend, the proprietors were in town doing their shopping and it seems the lone worker wasn't too keen to make us lunch. Jim did his best to persuade her, but we simply went into "Plan B" mode and headed further down the road.<br />
<br />
As luck would have it, we encountered another possibility not much later. Although there were no signs of a working business, the layout looked like a roadside stop, so we took a chance. Of course, had I been traveling alone, this would be a place I would probably ride by, as I just don't have the language skill to uncover the possibility. Jim's not in that boat with me, and in a minute we knew we could eat and drink. Score!<br />
<br />
This was quite a nice little roadside retreat. Not right on the side of the road, one has to ride a few meters down to a river bed where a concrete slab crossing leads over the water course and up the other side. There were a couple of buildings and a good bit of level ground. <br />
<br />
One structure looked as if it could have been produced to be used a motel rooms, and another separate structure was built as the kitchen. It even had proper flush toilets, although they are of the older style squat variety.<br />
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It wasn't particularly hot at this spot. In fact, it was pleasantly shaded and a little breeze wafting by occasionally. However, the proprietress seemed determined to have us move to another spot that she deemed better for us to relax at. We went back and forth on this matter for a few minutes, but finally convinced her that we would stay put under the large awning after she seemed to want us to wrestle the table and chairs down to the "better" spot that was about 20 meters away.<br />
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They were running an on-site river trout farm of sorts here, so the obvious choice for lunch was some fresh from the water fish. By this time the rest of the group had joined us and we got to scoop our intended meal right out of the water with nets.<br />
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Seems the only thing on hand to drink this day was either beer or tap water. The latter, I chose not to drink for obvious reasons, and the former I desperately wanted to quaff, but two wheels or three, I don't drink until the riding day is over. (OK, I almost, always, never drink while I'm riding. . .) Luckily, someone appeared who offered to run into the ville to pick up some bottled water (bing de, or course) for us and we were set for now.<br />
<br />
After a good meal of fresh fish and vegetables, we were on our way again. The roads remained tortuous and climbing. There were myriad spots to stop along the way, but we were faced with the touring motorcyclists greatest dilemma: Stop to take photos of grand scenery, or keep eating up those glorious curves. My lack of photos should attest to the result of that inner argument.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC8.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC9.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC10.jpg'><br />
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At that last stop above, Laser made more of his attempts at getting out of the hack when his master roamed more than a few feet away. (As any good Labrador will do, of course). Here's Jim's Cousin-in-law (Is there such a thing?) trying to contain Laser:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC11.jpg'><br />
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A little while after this point our group split up with Jim and I riding at our own pace and everyone else enjoying the good weather with the top down on the little Suzuki as they sped off down the road ahead of us.<br />
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We had been experiencing a little running trouble with my bike, so we made a few stops to do maintenance on her:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SC12.jpg'><br />
<br />
Unfortunately, tinkering with the left-side spark plug wire many times took a toll on it and we were finally worried when brass plug that normally stays inside the plug cap became damaged beyond repair. Although both hacks were replete with some common spare parts, a plug wire was not among them.<br />
<br />
Luckily, ingenuity prevailed and we found a little hex-head (Allen) key tool kit which had all the keys attached to a ring via little springs. Jim was able to fashion one of those springs around the top of the spark plug. Unfortunately, we just couldn't get it stay securely attached to the top of the plug. This was solved with a little more dumpster-diving into the trunk of the hack where we found a length of bailing wire which Jim used to wrap around the cylinder jug and pull the plug cap down on to the spark plug.<br />
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I couldn't help thinking about Jim's ride across Russia and Mongolia back to China few years ago. It seems he's blessed to always have on hand what's needed to get moving again. Bailing wire and springs, but we were moving once again. <br />
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At this point, we were on the downhill side of the mountains and headed back to B-town. This turned out to be the most spirited riding we'd done all day. Although we hadn't received any rain while we were riding, we rode down canyon roads that had apparently been under the rain cloud for a while. They were uniformly wet and still quite curvacious. <br />
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At this point, traffic stepped up also as we came upon many a curve where traffic was being held up by one of China's ubiquitous overloaded lorries using first gear to try and get down the mountain with some brakes left in case he has to stop at the bottom.<br />
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We had quite a few "fun" passes on the way down. Lucky for me, Jim had the presence of mind to wave me on when he could see beyond a curve that no traffic was coming. It still made the hair on my neck stand up to be passing on a blind curve in that manner. This is China Riding!<br />
<br />
One thing I hadn't mentioned by this point was that Jim and I swapped rigs as he thought it better for him to ride the rig with the surgical scars. Jim's dog Laser of course wasn't happy when he saw his master take off down the road and a strange set of eyes staring at him through my visor as I took off after Jim.<br />
<br />
In the first few kilometers of curving road, I spent half my time trying to keep laser from committing suicide--all the while I tried to negotiate the curves and handle braking and throttle duties. It's pretty had to manage the front brake and throttle while trying to keep the pup in the car! Thankfully, he realized the futility of his ways fairly soon and settled down to a steady barking of disapproval for the remainder of the ride.<br />
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Our last few miles back to town were on one of the beautifully maintained limited access divided highways (I'm going to try and identify the roads we took so I can post a map soon. We were sans-GPS as I'd already lost mine in Shanghai and Jim obviously didn't need one).<br />
<br />
For myself, I've always liked the look of a good hound riding shotgun in a side car, and a few tourists seemed to agree with me as we had a passenger van full of folks match our speed in the left lane and take numerous photos. I obliged them with a huge grin and accompanying Victory sign. Laser barked in approval. We exchanged Thumps-up and they proceeded on their way.<br />
<br />
We were traveling at a good clip when I noticed Jim begin to slow down. I figured that maybe our bodge was coming apart. We drove along the shoulder of the road for a few kilometers and then coasted to a stop on the overpass of the very exit we were to take.<br />
<br />
We quickly discovered that Jim's bike had run out of gas! Of course, being Jim, there was a 2 gallon spare tank in the trunk of the other hack and we were on our way again in just a few minutes.<br />
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A few more kilometers and we were back on the final local roads back to Jim's shop. Jim noticed a bike/auto repair shop on the side of the road and quickly swung around in search of a replacement spark plug cap. We were rewarded at this stop by one of the better slap-stick moments I've witnessed in a while.<br />
<br />
Earlier in the day, Jim's wife had commented that the sole of Jim's shoe was coming loose. Jim remarked that Laser had be using it for gnawing practice and no further note was taken.<br />
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While a group of curious locals milled about us and the bikes, Jim jumped up and started to jog toward the shop door. We were all surprised to see his shoe sole head off in a different direction, yet tethered to its erstwhile mate by the thinnest of glue strips. This of course garnered a good laugh, but nothing compared to the guffaws that ensued when Jim exited the shop with his newly repaired footwear--wrapped in gobs of clear cello tape. It may not be pretty, but again, Jim gets the job done.<br />
<br />
A few too-short minutes later we were back at Jim's shop. I could already tell that I would be in for a sore back and shoulder the next day as I haven't piloted my own hack in six months as I have it off the road for repair. Most people don't realize the amount of effort it takes to steer a sidecar rig. And after spending a great day negotiating curve after curve, I was being reminded clearly.<br />
<br />
Now for the best part. I've manged to get Jim to agree to go out for another foray tomorrow! This time it looks like we might have a few more riders with us, so I am hoping that I'll be able to organize some photos that will show some bikes in motion. Tomorrow evening is a scheduled get-together of the MCM folks in BJ, so I hope to meet a few more good folks and hear some more good good travel yarns.<br />
<br />
Cheers, <br />
<br />
Dan K.<br />
<br />
====================================================================================<br />
<br />
2009.06.13<br />
<br />
Greetings All,<br />
<br />
I'm sitting in a lounge at Narita Airport in Tokyo right now. Yuan and I have a 4 hour layover here. Thought I'd use this time productively and update the thread.<br />
<br />
Jim was nice enough to take another day away from business to show me around some more great mountain roads on Thursday (6/11). My taxi ride from the hotel to Jim's shop was much more direct this time. However, the last 1km of travel on JingMi Lu took about 20 minutes to negotiate the choking traffic. Rush hour really is rush hour in Beijing.<br />
<br />
Here's a couple of shots of Jim's shop. Street side:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-01.jpg'><br />
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and in the courtyard of the old part of the shop<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-03.jpg'><br />
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Jim's also got a brand new building out back that they're getting ready to use. Nice, big space (Probably 2,000 sq. ft. or so) with a good high ceiling. His crew was busy painting and sealing the floor this morning.<br />
<br />
A few minutes after I arrived, I met Tim Lago. Tim's just gotten the go-ahead from his doctor to ride again after taking some time to mend a few bones. A slight miscalculation as he rode his Ducati around the Shanghai International Circuit some weeks before being the cause.<br />
<br />
Tim wasn't certain if he'd use a bike with wide handlebars or not, so he took a quick spin around on the bike I had ridden on Tuesday. She's got great, wide bars for easy sidecar wrestling.<br />
<br />
Here's Tim after checking out the arm leverage:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-02.jpg'><br />
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Jim arrived a few minutes later, and our group was ready to hit the road when Ed arrived (Ed, I never did get your last name. . .) Ed's a lawyer and entrepreneur who's also been living in China for some years. Yet another fluent Mandarin speaker in the group of riders. <br />
<br />
We began our ride with a stop for gas (I'll spare you the gas station shots this time), and headed north out of the BJ suburbs. As I mentioned before, the traffic quickly abates and the roads open up for as carefree a ride as is possible in China (Always expect the unexpected). After a few miles, we pulled over to the shoulder near a canal to wait for Charles, who rides a real nice looking CJ with a super-retro Bavarian Creme paint color.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-05.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-04.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-06.jpg'><br />
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Charles' bike is a real nice looking bike. Charles, (whose last name again I never got) is, if I remember correctly in the finance and investments business. He's originally from Los Angeles.<br />
<br />
Once again, the lack of photos of our riding attests to the quality of the riding we had. No time for pics, just curves for us. We finally did stop somewhere for lunch however. It seems that one is never too far from some good food when traveling in this area. There were lots of roadside/streamside restaurants with fish pens offering fresh trout for lunch.<br />
<br />
Charles decided that the net was not a sporting proposition for the fish, so he gave a go at catching one the old fashioned way:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-07.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-08.jpg'><br />
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Even with Ed's (left) and Tim's (middle) encouragement, the fish were getting old, so Charles relented and one of the restaurant crew did things the efficient way:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-09.jpg'><br />
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A few minutes later we were enjoying the expat's life in China: Creekside and good food in quantity:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-10.jpg'><br />
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I can't describe anything that we ate, except for the barbequed fish, I rarely know what exactly it is that I am eating when I dine in China. I usually leave the food ordering up to Yuan. I'm never disappointed however.<br />
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Not long after lunch began to settle in our stomachs, we were off on the road again. Did I mention before that the roads here are in excellent shape and have hardly any traffic? :) It wasn't long till we were heading up steep , curved roads which made right-handers sometimes too exciting. (It's a sidecar thing, you wouldn't understand. . .)<br />
<br />
After a while we came to a real nice overlook spot where we met a few local Chinese bikers:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-14.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-17.jpg'><br />
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The guy on the Yamaha R1 had flown by us some time earlier as we made our way up the road. After we left this spot, it didn't take him long to pass us all again.<br />
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I asked the guys to have some patience with me, the real tourist of this group, so that I could get at least a few photos of myself actually on a moving bike. The guys obliged, so I managed a few:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-13.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-15.jpg'><br />
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[Note: Closed course with professional rider. Do not attempt this helmet-less riding at home :) ]<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-12.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-11.jpg'><br />
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We had a growing group of people stopping at this spot:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-20.jpg'><br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-18.jpg'><br />
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So we quickly wrapped things up with a group shot and saddled up:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-19.jpg'><br />
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Jim really knows these back roads and for todays ride I was treated to a real nice dirt/gravel forest road ride which climbed up out of the river valley, up and over a pass, through a few small farming villages and back dow the other side where it met back up with the canyon road.<br />
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This photo was made as we took a rest stop just short of the summit of the pass:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-21.jpg'><br />
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Here's the view down hill from there to the bottom:<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-22.jpg'><br />
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Time for one more 'poser' shot. The bike I'm sitting on is Jim's. It is the same bike that he circumnavigated the U.S. in (As a "shakedown" ride) before shipping his bike to Germany to begin his cross-Europe & Asia ride a few years ago.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-23.jpg'><br />
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The ride back down the other side of the pass was a little rougher than the ride up. Just a few rain-made washouts and cracks, but nothing the rigs couldn't handle. This part of the ride was really interesting as we traveled through a few small villages with buildings that look ancient.<br />
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We didn't stop until we were back down to the river road, where we took another break and decided what to do.<br />
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<img src='http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/SCday2-24.jpg'><br />
<br />
Both Ed and Charles had engagements for later that day, and Tim, Jim, and I were planning to meet the MCM group at Frank's Place back in BJ that evening, so we decided to head back toward town and split up appropriately.<br />
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The ride back to town was uneventful. A mixture of back roads and highway. Jim had to run home to drop off Laser, so Tim agreed to make certain that I could find my way back to Jim's shop to drop off the bike (Meaning he lead me all the way there). Once again, JingMi Lu was stacked and packed with every mode of transport under the sun. Luckily, even though the sidecars are wider than your average bike, Tim managed to squeeze his rig past traffic on the right-hand shoulder of the road. Of course, for me, it was follow or get lost forever, so I kept right behind him as much as was possible. <br />
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At one point, there wasn't room for the whole bike on the road, so the hacks once again showed their versatility as we popped the hack wheel up and over the curb and rand the tire of the rubble and stubble at the side of the road. At one point, Jim de-barked a tree with his hack, but later inspection showed nothing more than some tree skin stuck to the hack frame. Those things are built tough!<br />
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We swung around the last corner, and I sadly realized my riding days in China are now over. We parked the bikes inside the courtyard of Jim's shop and a couple of minutes later Tim was giving me a ride back to my hotel which was only a convenient 300 meters from Franks' Place, where we would all be meeting later.<br />
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Well, My little "adventure" is over now. No matter how much riding I could have squeezed in while I was there, it would never have been enough, but thanks to the help of Andy and Jim, I was completely satisfied to get what I did. Thanks guys.<br />
<br />
I showered over at the hotel and Yuan and I joined the group over at Frank's place. I've got some photos of that get-together also, and I'll post them in that thread.<br />
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Cheers,<br />
<br />
Dan K.<br />
Airport Prisoner, Tokyo, NaritaDan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-74998619082159756022009-08-31T20:15:00.001-06:002009-08-31T20:15:30.781-06:002006.02 - Colorado Elephant RideEach February, nut-case riders from all over converge on Bailey, Colorado to ride to the top of Guanella Pass (11,667') over the unmaintanied Guanella Pass Road.<br />
<br />
In 2006, I rode did the ride for the second time. This time on my Yamaha XT225 enduro bike.<br />
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MyBike:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006005Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006005Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006006Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006006Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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Other nut's bikes:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006001Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006001Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006002Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006002Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006003Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006003Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006004Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006004Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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The lower road was pretty dry this year:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006007Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006007Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006012Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006012Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006013Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006013Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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At the summit of the pass:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=Panorama.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/Panorama.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006018Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006018Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006014Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006014Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006015Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006015Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006016Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006016Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006017Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006017Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006020Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006020Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006021Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006021Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006023Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006023Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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Some Ural's racing down the icy east side of the pass:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006028Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006028Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006029Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006029Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/?action=view&current=ElephantRide-Feb122006030Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/ElephantRide2006/ElephantRide-Feb122006030Medium.jpg" /></a>Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-62589424043536556412009-08-31T20:15:00.000-06:002009-08-31T20:15:01.388-06:002005.07 - Red Riders Rocky Mountain Rendezvous<i>This is a copy of the post I originally made on the IMZ-Ural WebBoard after the 2005 RRRMR</i><br />
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Topic: Ride Report - 2005 Red Riders RM Rendezvous <br />
Conference: Ride, Trip, Rally Reports <br />
From: Dan Kearney {iudaSuite.macro.userPeek ()} <br />
Date: Aug 6 2005; 10:30:00 PM <br />
<br />
Take a deep breath now, this puppy is looong winded!<br />
<br />
Greetings All, <br />
<br />
Here's a quick write-up of last weekend's 2005 Red Riders Rocky Mountain Rendezvous.<br />
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We met up in Lyons, Colorado (Just northwest of Denver) on Friday morning for breakfast. attending were Myself, Jon & Michelle Buscho (of Brighton, CO); Kevin Ferguson & Susan Johnson (of Albuquerque, NM); Dennis (IvanRider) & Becky McAllister (of Bodega Bay, CA); John Willcox (of Denver, CO); Vlad ??? (Formerly of Russia, now of Denver). We were also met by Marcus of Long River Motorworks, a local importer of Chang Jiang motorcycles. <br />
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Vlad is a huge, gregarious Russian guy who is a member of the local sidecar club (Colorado Sidecar Enthusiasts). He was riding his Yamaha with hack. Vlad's hack doubles as rolling advertising for his window blind company. Marcus met us on his "Neval Dnepr" bike. That's the very first Dnept that I've ever seen in person. John came along in his older model Tourist with 750cc upgrade. John Wilcox had the lone BMW of the bunch, although his bike was 80% EML and 20% BMW as only the motor, shaft drive, and final drive were BMW components. John's rig is a sidecar-cross rig set up for off-road racing. Kevin and I were both mounted on our respective Patrols.<br />
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The day began by riding up the aptly named "Peak to Peak" highway which runs about 60 miles from Black Hawk, CO to Estes Park, CO. The road basically parallels the continental divide and give many good views of the 13,000' plus peaks that line it. We gassed up in Estes Park, gateway to Rocky Mountain National Park and home of what is supposedly the highest continuously paved highway in America. Trail Ridge Road runs up and over the continental divide, maxing out at more than 12,250'. The views are endless and spectacular. We made the obligatory stop at the visitor's center atop the road for souvenirs and snacks and then headed down the west side of the divide. There were a few moose and elk jams as the drivers on the road slowed to gawk at the wildlife.<br />
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When we reached Granby, CO, Vlad peeled off and headed back to Denver as he had his business to attend to the next day. He planned to meet back up with us in Grand Junction on Sunday. The rest of us headed west through the canyon of the Colorado River as it winds its way through Kremmling, CO. A quick gas stop in Kremmling and we were off again. The ride up to Gore Pass at a little over 9,500' is not too steep, but features some nice switchback corners. Little did we know that things were about to become a lot more exciting.<br />
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As we were heading down the pass on the west side, I was leading the group down the hill. Nearing the bottom of one curve, I realized that only Dennis was riding behind me. As is custom, we stopped at the next turnout and waited for the group to catch up. But, no one did...<br />
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Dennis remarked that he thought he could see a red rig on the wrong side of the guard rail as we looked back up the road. I didn't see that, but thought I saw someone standing there. I figured that someone had decided to stop and take a photo. Dennis, Becky and I decided to ride back up the road to see what was happening. As we passed through the first tight turn I saw John Willcox's rig sitting in the middle of the road and immediately knew something was not right.<br />
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No one actually saw the crash. John Buscho (JEB) heard it, as he was riding in front of John Willcox. JEB looked in his rear view mirror and saw John's rig, sans John, coasting down the road. In short, it looks like John got caught off-guard by the reducing radius right-hand curve, went wide, and hit the guard rail on the left-hand side of the road. There were a whole series of events to unfold in the next hour or so. In the end, John was air-lifted to the hospital back in Denver and the rest of us continued on with the ride.<br />
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We reached Craig in the evening. JEB's battery was just about dead (He, like I, was running a total loss electrical system). I still had plenty of juice left in my battery so I gave it to John and we made it in to town just at dark. Kevin and Susan had reservations at a local bed & breakfast and the rest of us settled in at the local KOA. we all had a late dinner together and naturally spent most of the time discussing the day's events. A call to the hospital reveled little more than John was there and in surgery.<br />
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The next morning we made a late start, but it was another beautiful Colorado morning. Just south of Craig, a leaping antelope woke me from my morning haze as it sprang across just a few feet in front of my bike as I led the group through the rolling countryside. I never saw it until it was too late to do anything so I just clenched every muscle in my body and held on. It was a close miss, but no collision. I was certainly awake right after that.<br />
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Shortly before we reached Meeker, Dennis' Retro began to act up again. It seemed that he was losing compression the day before and now his crankcase breather was really pushing oil back into the air cleaner. we all figured that it was a case of bad piston rings and/or a scored cylinder. we stopped at a local auto parts store and after purchasing a few feet of rubber hose Dennis had her rigged so that he could continue on without taking an oil bath. Unfortunately, this spelled the end of the ride for Dennis and Becky. He certainly couldn't take the chance of riding the bike for the remainder of the trip. So, Dennis and Becky bid farewell to us at the next road junction and they headed on the shortest route back to my house just west of Denver. They kept us updated and made it all the way back to my house with no problem. Dennis even noted that they were able to pass a few vehicles while traveling up the steep grade to the Eisenhower tunnel.<br />
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The rest of us continued on west toward Rangely. we stopped for lunch beside a large reservoir. The day had warmed up to be more than comfortable and this little oasis made a good lunch stop. We noticed as we completed our meal that a good sized cluster of angry looking clouds had formed itself right in our intended path. We decided it was time to roll and we hit the road again.<br />
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The wind picked up immensely and blew directly in strong gusts across out path. When we turned south to start the long climb towards Douglas Pass the wind hit us head on, but we managed to maintain speed quite well. At one point it looked to me like we were about to get hit with the usual Colorado afternoon deluge and I was just about to pull over and dig out the rain gear, but instead just kept on going. Luck shined on us as the clouds remained east of our route and the rain that fell served to cool the air greatly and make the ride up to the pass very pleasant.<br />
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By the time we reached the pass, the sun was shiny brightly and the views to the south were excellent. As we rested at the pass, we met two gentlemen. One was riding a VRod and the other another Harley (Sorry, I can't tell most of the models apart). We conversed, and learned that they had just been all the way up to Alaska on these two bikes and were slowly wending their way back to California where the one gent was to celebrate his 70th. birthday. Too cool.<br />
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So, we headed on down the curving, descending road back toward the hot, lower mesas rising up below. Part way down the slope we ran in to Terry and Linda. We had arranged to meet them somewhere along the road. They and their Italia and a friend on a Valkyrie were waiting for us in a layby. So, we had our escort back down into Fruita, which is just across the interstate from the entrance of the spectacular Colorado National Monument. <br />
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Fruita would be our destination for the evening. Kevin had an aunt living just east of town, so he and Susan spent the night there. John and I hooked up with Ron. I had never met Ron, but had spoken to him a number of times on the phone as he is well known to the members of the Colorado Sidecar Enthusiasts club. We exchanged information about John's accident over dinner at a local Mexican restaurant and spent some time discussing life in general and its impact upon our motorcycling.<br />
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The next morning was again another Colorado standard: sunny and cool. We met up with Kevin and Susan out at Kevin's aunt's farmhouse. We were treated to a wonderful home-cooked breakfast and met Kevin's wonderful aunt. If I remember correctly, she is 82 or 83 years old and still lives on her own at the farmhouse. Before we left, Kevin fulfilled her request for a quick jaunt in Kevin's sidecar. She may have gotten more than she bargained for as Kevin could not resist flying the chair as they sped down the road.<br />
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Kevin spent a lot of time in that area when he was younger and knew of a good, long, dirt road that would take us to the top of the Grand Mesa. This route proved to be so much better than the paved road which I had in my route plan. The Grand Mesa is a flat top mountain that tops out above 10,000 feet and is filled with literally hundreds of lakes and miles and miles of hiking and 4x4 trails.<br />
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We crossed the top of the mesa and then descended its southern flank down into Cederedge where we stopped and visited a small winery that Kevin and Susan knew of. A little tasting and a few bottles purchased later, we were back on the road and headed back into the high mountains as we wound our way past Paonia (Site of a very popular BMW rally every July) up and over 9,755 foot McClure pass and then the long ride down to Carbondale where we stopped for lunch. Carbondale sports a name that, like many Colorado mountain towns, is derived from the mineral which was mined there during its heyday.<br />
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Our repast completed, we took the heavily trafficked, but still scenic road into and through the glitzy resort town of Aspen. No need to stop there, so we continued on to climb the spectacular road up to Independence Pass. This road is one of the "must ride" roads in the Colorado mountains. It climbs and climbs and narrows and narrows to the point where two vehicles cannot physically pass each other in opposite directions. We reached the pass by mid-afternoon and stopped for the obligatory photos at this 12,900 foot pass. Our rest stop was quickly ended by lightning strikes that were too close for comfort. The high Rockies in Summertime are no place to be when the lightning bolts start popping. So, we headed on down the east side of the pass towards the day's endpoint of Buena Vista.<br />
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At Buena Vista, Kevin and susan chose to relax in the lap of luxury at the local Best Western while John and I continued on down the road a piece to the local KOA. John was met here by his lovely wife Michelle and his two children. While I set about setting up my tent, John and crew settled into their cabin and enjoyed the family rites of ritual marshmallow sacrifice over the open fire. While they enjoyed the roasted ones, I jumped back on the bike and cruised into town to enjoy the local version of the Great American West's roadside bar and grill. One could not have scripted a more stereotypical place. Harley's parked out front, young, buxom waitresses scurrying about above the sawdust and peanut shells hiding the ages old wooded plank floor. Although no live entertainment was on tap for this Sunday evening, I was nonetheless kept enraptured by the antics of four young rafting guide service employees who had way too much to drink and little on their minds to discuss of more import than the local guide service gossip and who's screwing whom stories. It made me long for my old college days...sigh. After a beer and a burger it was back to the tent where I quickly succumbed to slumber.<br />
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Our final day of riding dawned cold, but sunny. We all met at the campground and had breakfast at the campground's own cafe. No exactly a meal to write home about, but there was plenty of it. We managed to hand out some ural brochures to a few interested campers and hit the road at about 8am. Our first break of the day came fairly soon as we shopped a nearby auto parts store so that Kevin could make a few modifications to his steel tube, home welded, carburetor intake tubes. A marvel of home engineering that unfortunately was made less effective by a recent turtle-turning that Kevin's rig took shortly before he joined us on this ride. (Don't worry Kevin, I won't tell anyone--except for a few close friends...)<br />
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We headed south, then east to follow the beautiful canyon of the Arkansas River towards Canyon City. By the time we reached Canyon City and its lower elevation, things had warmed up quite considerably and we were treated to sights of various antique cars that were running the rural roads and around town as there was some sort of car show going on in town. We decided to stop for fuel and to take a much needed beverage break.<br />
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Our final bit of challenging road for this trip was the Phantom Canyon road. This road runs about 35 miles north to south and climbs up out of the now broad and flat Arkansas River valley and wends its way up a former narrow gauge railroad bed to its terminus at the old mining town of Victor, Colorado at about 10,000 feet. This road is quite interesting as it climbs through a series of old railroad tunnels and across a number of small trestles. Unfortunately, the road was pretty badly washboarded and that made for an uncomfortable ride. Our last bit of excitement for this four day ride was when my rear tire finally gave up the ghost and blew out on me. Luckily, it was on a slow, straight stretch of road. <br />
<br />
Finally! Finally! I've been telling people for two years of the virtue of not only having a spare tire, but having one that works on any wheel on the bike. In all of my years of riding motorcycles I have never gotten a flat tire until now. And now, I got to use my handy-dandy spare. I was smug with self-reliance as I spent the ten minutes necessary to swap the old sausage out for the new. That old tire went bald six months ago and I managed to get at least 2,000 more Kms on it before it died.<br />
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At the end of the road, we did what most people who travel to this part of Colorado do. We bypassed the authentic and still operating mining town of victor and rode the last two miles down in to Cripple Creek, Colorado's premier gambling town. We stopped for a mediocre lunch in one of the casinos and again hooked up with JEB's wife and kids. we left the town and its incessant dinging and ringing sounds behind as we drove up, then down, then around innumerable hills and curves. John had intended to carry his son in the sidecar with him for the rest of the journey, but Michelle mentioned her trepidation at the numerous curves ahead, so the little guy was relegated to the back seat of the sedan until we made our way to Woodland Park where he'd have his chance to Monkey around. I didn't have the heart to mention that the road was just as curvy from that point on however.<br />
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As we grunted and strained our way around the last of the higher speed sharp curves of U.S. 285 I caught my first glimpse of the skyline of Denver and was immediately disappointed as I knew this ride was coming to an end. The original plan was to stop in quaint Morrison, Colorado to have a bit of a farewell dinner, but since we ate lunch so late, and since it was already nearing 7pm, we all decided to go our separate ways at the bottom of the hill.<br />
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Anticlimactially and suddenly, it was all over. I had gotten used to looking in my rear view mirror and seeing the headlights of my companions for the past four days and now there was nothing but the blank stare of an SUV driver as he sped down the road yakking on his cell phone and tailgating me. The last 20 miles of this trip were a mixture of melancholy and relief. Sadness at the end of a (mostly) excellent multi-day ride with a good group of people, and relief that I could go home and collapse on the couch.<br />
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Don't tell anyone, but my rig sat under the awning in my driveway for two days before I even thought to start unloading her...<br />
<br />
Cheers, <br />
<br />
Dan K.<br />
Denver<br />
2003 Ural Patrol, 1987 BMW K75, 2002 Yamaha XT225<br />
<br />
==================================================================================<br />
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The first group of photos are fromthe morning that we left. we are still at the restaurant and preparing to leave. Here's a shot of Dan's loaded Patrol and Vlad's Yamaha rig. Notice his clever ploy to make all his riding tax deductible:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_1.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_1.jpg" /></a><br />
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Vlad, dennis, & Becky discuss the finer points of the Ural Retro:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_2.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_2.jpg" /></a><br />
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The two John's look over JEB's Rig - John Willcox's custom EML rig in the foreground:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_3.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_3.jpg" /></a><br />
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The group, just before departure - R to L Kevin, Susan, Vlad, John Buscho, John Willcox, Dennis, Becky, Marcus, unknown:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_4.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_4.jpg" /></a><br />
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These next few are at our first rest stop in front of the St. Malmo retreat and conference center just south of Rocky Mountain National Park:<br />
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Dennis & Becky - Mt. Meeker (13,900') in the background:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_5.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_5.jpg" /></a><br />
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Along Peak-to-Peak highway - Nearing Estes Park, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_6.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_6.jpg" /></a><br />
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Dan in front of the St. Malmo retreat Center - Peak-to-Peak Highway - Nearing Estes Park, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_7.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_7.jpg" /></a><br />
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Now we are on trail Ridge Road in Rocky Mountain National Park. 12,000 feet above Colorado - Trail Ridge Road - Rocky Mountain Nat'l Park:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_8.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_8.jpg" /></a><br />
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Kevin, John W., and Vlad - Trail Ridge Road - Rocky Mt. Nat'l Park<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_9.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_9.jpg" /></a><br />
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Dennis_troubleshoots his Retro - Near Meeker, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_10.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_10.jpg" /></a><br />
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Douglas Pass rest stop - near grand Junction, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_11.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_11.jpg" /></a><br />
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An early morning flight for Kevin's 82 year old aunt - Fruita, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_12.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_12.jpg" /></a><br />
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John sneers, Susan laughs, and Kevin makes intake modifications - Salida, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_13.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_13.jpg" /></a><br />
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Now we are on our way to the top of the Grand Mesa, 10,000+ feet high. Kevin, susan, and Dan - Nearing Land's End - Grand Mesa, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_14.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_14.jpg" /></a><br />
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Oops, the self-timer is too fast. - Nearing Land's End - Grand Mesa, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_15.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_15.jpg" /></a><br />
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Now we're heading up Phantom Canyon on an old railroad bed. Railroad tunnel along Phantom Canyon Road - Near Cripple Creek, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_16.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_16.jpg" /></a><br />
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Kevin and susan negotiate Phantom Canyon Road - near Cripple Creek, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_17.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_17.jpg" /></a><br />
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Dan waves to the adoring crowd - Phantom Canyon - Near Cripple Creek, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_18.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_18.jpg" /></a><br />
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Dan, Susan, Kevin, and John take a break - Phantom Canyon Road - Near Cripple Creek, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_19.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_19.jpg" /></a><br />
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For the last bit of asphalt on the last day Michelle prepares junior for monkey duty - Woodland Park, CO:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/?action=view&current=_20.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-07-RRRMR/_20.jpg" /></a>Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-24542681070382112392009-08-31T20:14:00.000-06:002009-08-31T20:14:31.446-06:002005.05 - Moab and EnvironsMy first extended XT225 rides were in the Moab, Utah area.<br />
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I figured out how to carry all my gear with me:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/?action=view&current=A.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/A.jpg" /></a><br />
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Nothing like a good campsite miles away from anyone else:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/?action=view&current=B.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/B.jpg" /></a><br />
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Gotta watch out for falling boulders around here. Long's Canyon near Canyonlands Nat'l Park:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/?action=view&current=C.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/C.jpg" /></a><br />
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Looking down Long's Canyon towards the Colorado River:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/?action=view&current=D.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/D.jpg" /></a><br />
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Labyrinth Canyon Overlook near Canyonlands Nat'l Park:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/?action=view&current=E.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/E.jpg" /></a><br />
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Getting ready to drop about 2,000 feet to Mineral Bottom at the beginning of the 120 mile White Rim Trail:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/?action=view&current=F.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/F.jpg" /></a><br />
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The back country entrance to Canyonlands Nat'l Park. Now, where's the fee collector? . . .<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/?action=view&current=G.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/G.jpg" /></a><br />
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On the White Rim Trail in Canyonlands Nat'l Park:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/?action=view&current=H.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/H.jpg" /></a><br />
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Canyonlands views:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/?action=view&current=I.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/I.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/?action=view&current=J.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2005-05-MoabXT225/J.jpg" /></a>Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404544866861877351.post-50724752423408896002009-08-31T20:13:00.002-06:002009-08-31T20:13:44.661-06:002003.06 - Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, Wyoming RideIn June of 2003, soon after I bought my Ural Patrol sidecar rig I took a five day trip making a loop from home (Near Denver) down through the southwestern corner of Colorado. After that I dipped down into northern New Mexico, then went wist into Arizona, then back up north through Utah and up into southwestern Wyoming, then on back home.<br />
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Here are a few photos from the ride.<br />
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This is a view on the west side of Boreas Pass on Boreas Pass Road looking down into Breckenridge, Colorado. In the background, one can see some of the ski runs of the Breckenridge Ski are:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1092Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1092Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1093Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1093Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1094Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1094Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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At the summit of Hoosier Pass just south of Breckenridge:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1095Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1095Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1096Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1096Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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Here is a view looking east from the summit of Cottonwood Pass (12,126'). Still a good amount of snow around at the end of June:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1098Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1098Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1097Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1097Medium.jpg" /></a> <br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1100Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1100Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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Along U.S. 50 passing Morrow Point Reservoir in Curecanti National Recreation area:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1102Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1102Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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Red Mountain Pass on the "Million Dollar Highway" between Ouray and Silverton, Colorado:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1103Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1103Medium.jpg" /></a> <br />
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The "Million Dollar Highway" gets its name as a reference to the huge quantities of gold mined in the area through which it passes. Gold mines are still active in this area today.<br />
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Looking down onto Silverton, Colorado from U.S. 550, "The Million Dollar Highway":<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1105Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1105Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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Nearing Ship Rock in New Mexico:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1107Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1107Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1108Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1108Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1109Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1109Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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Natural Bridges National Monument, Utah:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1110Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1110Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1111Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1111Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1113Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1113Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1114Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1114Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1116Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1116Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1119Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1119Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1122Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1122Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1123Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1123Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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Queuing for the ferry to take me across Lake Powell from Halls Landing to Bullfrog:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1124Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1124Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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On the ferry:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1127Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1127Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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Overlooking Flaming Gorge Reservoir in the Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area which straddles the Utah and Wyoming borders:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1129Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1129Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1130Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1130Medium.jpg" /></a><br />
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Lastly, surprising a bull elk in Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado:<br />
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<a href="http://s605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/?action=view&current=PICT1131Medium.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt134/KearneyDan/2003-06-CO-NM-AZ-UT-WYRilde/PICT1131Medium.jpg" /></a>Dan Kearneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15758165888991959014noreply@blogger.com0