tshelfer
0
- Joined
- Sep 4, 2009
- Messages
- 13,478
- Reaction score
- 2,847
- Location
- Centennial, CO
- First Name
- Tim
- Last Name
- Shelfer
This year’s weeklong trip to Colorado turned into a solo gig. I was supposed to be traveling with my buddy Brian, but he had a work conflict. So I went on my own. Getting ready for the trip which began last Sunday (June 8), I was plenty concerned about some disturbing weather patterns. As it turned out, I was usually just ahead of, or just behind, the really bad stuff.
SUNDAY
I left Arlington right after church, in a light drizzle. The forecast called for worse, so I got lucky. I made Dumas in about seven hours, riding in alternate patches of sunlight and foreboding clouds.
Just as I turned north from Amarillo, I saw huge black clouds moving up from the southeast.
In Dumas, I checked into to the Super Inn, grabbed a takeout dinner from BK, and got the bike under cover. Minutes later, the deluge hit. Minutes later, the motel parking lot had turned into Lake Dumas.
MONDAY
I woke up to find cool temperatures and a hard wind blowing. I wore a fleece under my riding jacket and pulled my rain pants over my Joe Rockets for extra windbreak. I was still cold.
The ride from Dumas to Raton was a beating. I fought a crosswind the whole way – the kind that occasionally drives you into the next lane. I met a pair of Harley riders a couple of days later, who had been caught in the same thing; one of them claimed the wind had been 40-50mph, and said he’d never been so scared on a bike in his life. I don’t know if it was really blowing that hard, but it was probably the worst wind I’ve ever dealt with on a bike.
Once I crossed Raton Pass, I was in a different eco system, and the weather settled down nicely. Up I-25 to Walsenburg, then NW on Hwy 69. 69 is a beautiful ride through a green valley, paralleling the Sangre De Cristo Mountains.
Eventually, 69 tees into Hwy 50, where I ran west along the Arkansas River into Salida,
then north to Buena Vista.
My campsite for the next two nights was the Collegiate Peaks national forest campground, toward Cottonwood Pass on Route 306.
Skiphunt from Two-Wheeled Texans (oddly enough, his real name is Skip Hunt. Who knew?) texted that he was in the area, so he popped in on his NC700X and shared the campsite for a night.
After pitching camp, we rode up to Cottonwood Pass (altitude 12,126 feet). It was cold, windy, and there was plenty of snow remaining up there.
After picture time, we headed to Buena Vista for a barbeque dinner, then back to camp.
We sat up by a fire & discussed religious and philosophical ideas for hours. Skip asks insightful questions, and is a refreshingly non-critical listener.
TUESDAY
In the morning, we explored more photo ops along Hwy 306, then parted ways.
Skip headed for warmer climates, and I checked out some other back roads, looking for good views of the Collegiate Peaks.
I also met some other riders in camp (in their late 60s) – a friendly fellow from Boulder on a 650 Dakar, and a couple he traveled with, on a KTM 650. They shared a pot roast dinner with me. Sadly, I forgot to snap their picture.
WEDNESDAY
After breaking camp, I was off to Creede. South to Salida, then west on US 50 over Monarch Pass. The weather was threatening, but never really amounted to anything. Just past Gunnison, Hwy 149 breaks off to the south, at the Curecante Reservoir.
If you’ve never been on 149, shame on you. It is one of Colorado’s best kept secrets – every inch is beautiful, and is definitely a rider’s road. Dropping south from 50, I rode through low hills for miles.
Eventually, it drops into a river canyon, and parallels the river for miles.
At Lake City, 149 begins the long climb to Slumgullion Pass (11,530 feet). Not a scary pass, but definitely a technical ride with multiple 15- and 20-mph switchbacks to keep you on your toes.
Down the other side, and over the lower Spring Creek Pass (10,889 feet). Somewhere in this area are the headwaters of the Rio Grande. And if you’ve only seen Big Muddy in west Texas, you don’t know how Grande it really is. Hwy 149 and the Rio Grande meander together, never out of each other’s sight, all the way to the town of South Fork down on Hwy 160.
I dropped from the passes into the picturesque valley toward Creede. Bristol Head dominates the landscape for miles around.
Major storm clouds were gathering, and I could hear the thunder over the music in my helmet, and see lightning flashes. I needed a campsite pronto. I found an old favorite of mine, the Bristol Head campground along Clear Creek.
I got my tent pitched, after which I got exactly three rain drops, and it cleared up.
I took my only selfie of the entire trip.
Creede was cold camping – nearly down to freezing. But I stayed comfortable in my new 4-season tent, brand name Moose Country. Skip wanted to see how small the tent is when packed. Here it is, Skip.
THURSDAY
In the morning, I broke camp, now headed generally toward home. Tonight’s destination – Sugarite Canyon State Park near Raton, NM. Headed south on 149 again, I dropped through Creede. The town, once famous for silver mining and some very colorful outlaws, is nestled between some magnificent bluffs. The only thing that spoils this little town is the trashy trailer town sitting on the river flat, just outside of Creede.
Moving south, I ran along the Rio Grande. A picture at every curve. Ah, so many curves, so little time.
Eventually, I hit US 160, and the Rio Grande and I went our separate ways. I went east, then south on I-25 and back over Raton Pass, and into Sugarite Canyon State Park, just outside Raton. Surprisingly, the park was nearly filled on a Thursday afternoon. However, the campground host told me he had two available sites, and gave me my pick. That’s the good news. The BAD news was that, even though I paid for two nights, the site I picked was only good for a single night, due to somebody else’s reservation. So I had to move my camp to the other site. He might have explained that to me in the first place!!!
Anyway, I settled into a campsite.
I watched yet another rain storm bluster and then fizzle, then took a quick tour of the park. Here’s the lake at the end of the canyon.
Then into Raton, where I had dinner at my favorite local restaurant, the El Matador Café.
And I ordered my perennial favorite, the green chili burger. Basically, Mexican SOS, and using a humongous sopapilla for the “shingle.” It ain’t fine cuisine, just unpretentious home cooking.
On the way back to camp, I watched storms to the southeast building across the New Mexico desert, and felt glad that I wasn’t out there.
FRIDAY
I came to this area for one specific reason – to ride to Cucharas Pass. So after coffee and a breakfast bar, I was on my way. The weather looked ominous, but as I headed north over Raton Pass, it cleared miraculously. By the time I hit Trinidad CO, it was clear and warm.
Highway 12, a designated National Scenic Byway, makes a loop west and north, up over the Sangre De Cristo Mountains, and through Cucharas Pass (49 miles from Trinidad), and drops down to La Veta, CO at the other end. From the south end, the road doesn’t look like much. It’s hot, dusty, and runs between low, rocky hills covered with juniper and brush. Halfway up, the scenery suddenly morphs into pine and aspen trees, alpine meadows, and fields of flowers.
I followed the road to the top and stopped for awhile at Cucharas Pass (9,995 feet).
I did some time on a dirt road from the pass, just to see how my Anakee 3 tires would handle the rocks & ruts. I took a few photo ops and headed back to the pavement.
I headed down the other side. There were some dramatic rock scapes.
Shortly before the town of La Veta, I pivoted around and enjoyed the same scenery, but going in the other direction.
I ate my sandwich lunch sitting next to a raging creek, just below the pass.
Then I headed down the south side, taking my time and enjoying the floral show.
Back in Sugarite Canyon that evening, I noted that there are lots of mule deer in the area.
SATURDAY
Time to head home now. As I was breaking camp, I ran into another rider – Eric. He was on his way home to Phoenix, after having explored the Great Lakes and northern Michigan (an area that’s on my bucket list) on his Goldwing.
The ride started smoothly. But thirty miles SE of Raton, the weather gods conspired against me, and the wind was back. I took my time getting to Dalhart (lunch and a Blizzard at DQ), then on to Amarillo for the evening, where I had a reservation at my regular spot, the TraveLodge West. Good prices, clean rooms, and the staff is relatively motorcycle friendly. I chained my bike to a curb stone, grabbed a take-out dinner across the street, and got to bed early, to enjoy a real mattress.
SUNDAY
Last day. Father’s Day. Getting home to wifey. I hit the road at 8:30. It was cool, and the afternoon would be hot. I started out dressed for summer riding (shorts & tshirt), only wearing a fleece under my riding jacket as a hedge against the desert chill. As predicted, I was cold for the first third of the ride, and hot for the last third. So on the average, I suppose I was perfectly comfortable.
As I started the bike for the ride home, my GPS up and quit on me. Oh well, it’s not like finding my way from Amarillo to Arlington is all that challenging. It is, however, a good reminder to carry old fashioned paper maps, no matter how much you trust your GPS. I had my maps – never used ‘em, but I had ‘em.
Because of the recent storms across west Texas, the Llano Estacado was surprisingly green – something to relieve the otherwise mundane scenery.
I told myself I was going to take my time. But I was homesick and butt-weary. So, courtesy of the 75 mph speed limit (which I never broke), I made the 360-mile trip home in 5 hours 55 minutes – 2 gas stops, one Gator-aid, one candy bar.
I’m tired and, a day later, haven’t even begun to unpack my bike, which is sitting on the back patio.
But I’m already thinking. Next year. Red Rocks country? Rocky Mountain National Park? Hmm…….
Some trip stats:
- According to the bike’s imperfect odometer, I covered 2,218 miles in eight days.
- Gas mileage averaged 47.2 mpg. Low was 32mpg, fighting wind between Dumas and Clayton. High was 62mpg, cruising over Cucharas Pass without the wind drag of saddlebags.
Observations:
- 20mph winds are annoying. 30mph winds are exhausting. 40mph winds are downright scary. 40+mph winds are getting into the danger zone.
- The senior pass (for 62 y/o and older) for national parks and national forests is the bargain of a lifetime! Only $10 for a lifetime pass.
- The Wifi at the Raton McDonald’s never works.
- Wool blend socks are better than cotton socks in practically all respects. Worth carrying.
- The difference in gas mileage between 65mph and 75mph is probably a solid 5mpg.
- Cosco’s breakfast bars get real old after a few days.
And the bonehead award for this trip goes to…..
- Me. For driving from Wichita Falls almost to Decatur without noticing that I had never shifted up to 6th gear. Probably didn’t help my mileage any on that leg.
The VStrom is a bit cranky at altitude. She always starts instantly, but needs to have the throttle held open for about a minute; otherwise she stalls. Otherwise, the old girl ran flawlessly, and sailed effortlessly up steep grades and over the highest passes.
As always, my thanks to a number of TWT friends for helping with all sorts of bike maintenance, and my cousin Tom for helping remove some of the "VStrom lean" from the kickstand.
SUNDAY
I left Arlington right after church, in a light drizzle. The forecast called for worse, so I got lucky. I made Dumas in about seven hours, riding in alternate patches of sunlight and foreboding clouds.
Just as I turned north from Amarillo, I saw huge black clouds moving up from the southeast.
In Dumas, I checked into to the Super Inn, grabbed a takeout dinner from BK, and got the bike under cover. Minutes later, the deluge hit. Minutes later, the motel parking lot had turned into Lake Dumas.
MONDAY
I woke up to find cool temperatures and a hard wind blowing. I wore a fleece under my riding jacket and pulled my rain pants over my Joe Rockets for extra windbreak. I was still cold.
The ride from Dumas to Raton was a beating. I fought a crosswind the whole way – the kind that occasionally drives you into the next lane. I met a pair of Harley riders a couple of days later, who had been caught in the same thing; one of them claimed the wind had been 40-50mph, and said he’d never been so scared on a bike in his life. I don’t know if it was really blowing that hard, but it was probably the worst wind I’ve ever dealt with on a bike.
Once I crossed Raton Pass, I was in a different eco system, and the weather settled down nicely. Up I-25 to Walsenburg, then NW on Hwy 69. 69 is a beautiful ride through a green valley, paralleling the Sangre De Cristo Mountains.
Eventually, 69 tees into Hwy 50, where I ran west along the Arkansas River into Salida,
then north to Buena Vista.
My campsite for the next two nights was the Collegiate Peaks national forest campground, toward Cottonwood Pass on Route 306.
Skiphunt from Two-Wheeled Texans (oddly enough, his real name is Skip Hunt. Who knew?) texted that he was in the area, so he popped in on his NC700X and shared the campsite for a night.
After pitching camp, we rode up to Cottonwood Pass (altitude 12,126 feet). It was cold, windy, and there was plenty of snow remaining up there.
After picture time, we headed to Buena Vista for a barbeque dinner, then back to camp.
We sat up by a fire & discussed religious and philosophical ideas for hours. Skip asks insightful questions, and is a refreshingly non-critical listener.
TUESDAY
In the morning, we explored more photo ops along Hwy 306, then parted ways.
Skip headed for warmer climates, and I checked out some other back roads, looking for good views of the Collegiate Peaks.
I also met some other riders in camp (in their late 60s) – a friendly fellow from Boulder on a 650 Dakar, and a couple he traveled with, on a KTM 650. They shared a pot roast dinner with me. Sadly, I forgot to snap their picture.
WEDNESDAY
After breaking camp, I was off to Creede. South to Salida, then west on US 50 over Monarch Pass. The weather was threatening, but never really amounted to anything. Just past Gunnison, Hwy 149 breaks off to the south, at the Curecante Reservoir.
If you’ve never been on 149, shame on you. It is one of Colorado’s best kept secrets – every inch is beautiful, and is definitely a rider’s road. Dropping south from 50, I rode through low hills for miles.
Eventually, it drops into a river canyon, and parallels the river for miles.
At Lake City, 149 begins the long climb to Slumgullion Pass (11,530 feet). Not a scary pass, but definitely a technical ride with multiple 15- and 20-mph switchbacks to keep you on your toes.
Down the other side, and over the lower Spring Creek Pass (10,889 feet). Somewhere in this area are the headwaters of the Rio Grande. And if you’ve only seen Big Muddy in west Texas, you don’t know how Grande it really is. Hwy 149 and the Rio Grande meander together, never out of each other’s sight, all the way to the town of South Fork down on Hwy 160.
I dropped from the passes into the picturesque valley toward Creede. Bristol Head dominates the landscape for miles around.
Major storm clouds were gathering, and I could hear the thunder over the music in my helmet, and see lightning flashes. I needed a campsite pronto. I found an old favorite of mine, the Bristol Head campground along Clear Creek.
I got my tent pitched, after which I got exactly three rain drops, and it cleared up.
I took my only selfie of the entire trip.
Creede was cold camping – nearly down to freezing. But I stayed comfortable in my new 4-season tent, brand name Moose Country. Skip wanted to see how small the tent is when packed. Here it is, Skip.
THURSDAY
In the morning, I broke camp, now headed generally toward home. Tonight’s destination – Sugarite Canyon State Park near Raton, NM. Headed south on 149 again, I dropped through Creede. The town, once famous for silver mining and some very colorful outlaws, is nestled between some magnificent bluffs. The only thing that spoils this little town is the trashy trailer town sitting on the river flat, just outside of Creede.
Moving south, I ran along the Rio Grande. A picture at every curve. Ah, so many curves, so little time.
Eventually, I hit US 160, and the Rio Grande and I went our separate ways. I went east, then south on I-25 and back over Raton Pass, and into Sugarite Canyon State Park, just outside Raton. Surprisingly, the park was nearly filled on a Thursday afternoon. However, the campground host told me he had two available sites, and gave me my pick. That’s the good news. The BAD news was that, even though I paid for two nights, the site I picked was only good for a single night, due to somebody else’s reservation. So I had to move my camp to the other site. He might have explained that to me in the first place!!!
Anyway, I settled into a campsite.
I watched yet another rain storm bluster and then fizzle, then took a quick tour of the park. Here’s the lake at the end of the canyon.
Then into Raton, where I had dinner at my favorite local restaurant, the El Matador Café.
And I ordered my perennial favorite, the green chili burger. Basically, Mexican SOS, and using a humongous sopapilla for the “shingle.” It ain’t fine cuisine, just unpretentious home cooking.
On the way back to camp, I watched storms to the southeast building across the New Mexico desert, and felt glad that I wasn’t out there.
FRIDAY
I came to this area for one specific reason – to ride to Cucharas Pass. So after coffee and a breakfast bar, I was on my way. The weather looked ominous, but as I headed north over Raton Pass, it cleared miraculously. By the time I hit Trinidad CO, it was clear and warm.
Highway 12, a designated National Scenic Byway, makes a loop west and north, up over the Sangre De Cristo Mountains, and through Cucharas Pass (49 miles from Trinidad), and drops down to La Veta, CO at the other end. From the south end, the road doesn’t look like much. It’s hot, dusty, and runs between low, rocky hills covered with juniper and brush. Halfway up, the scenery suddenly morphs into pine and aspen trees, alpine meadows, and fields of flowers.
I followed the road to the top and stopped for awhile at Cucharas Pass (9,995 feet).
I did some time on a dirt road from the pass, just to see how my Anakee 3 tires would handle the rocks & ruts. I took a few photo ops and headed back to the pavement.
I headed down the other side. There were some dramatic rock scapes.
Shortly before the town of La Veta, I pivoted around and enjoyed the same scenery, but going in the other direction.
I ate my sandwich lunch sitting next to a raging creek, just below the pass.
Then I headed down the south side, taking my time and enjoying the floral show.
Back in Sugarite Canyon that evening, I noted that there are lots of mule deer in the area.
SATURDAY
Time to head home now. As I was breaking camp, I ran into another rider – Eric. He was on his way home to Phoenix, after having explored the Great Lakes and northern Michigan (an area that’s on my bucket list) on his Goldwing.
The ride started smoothly. But thirty miles SE of Raton, the weather gods conspired against me, and the wind was back. I took my time getting to Dalhart (lunch and a Blizzard at DQ), then on to Amarillo for the evening, where I had a reservation at my regular spot, the TraveLodge West. Good prices, clean rooms, and the staff is relatively motorcycle friendly. I chained my bike to a curb stone, grabbed a take-out dinner across the street, and got to bed early, to enjoy a real mattress.
SUNDAY
Last day. Father’s Day. Getting home to wifey. I hit the road at 8:30. It was cool, and the afternoon would be hot. I started out dressed for summer riding (shorts & tshirt), only wearing a fleece under my riding jacket as a hedge against the desert chill. As predicted, I was cold for the first third of the ride, and hot for the last third. So on the average, I suppose I was perfectly comfortable.
As I started the bike for the ride home, my GPS up and quit on me. Oh well, it’s not like finding my way from Amarillo to Arlington is all that challenging. It is, however, a good reminder to carry old fashioned paper maps, no matter how much you trust your GPS. I had my maps – never used ‘em, but I had ‘em.
Because of the recent storms across west Texas, the Llano Estacado was surprisingly green – something to relieve the otherwise mundane scenery.
I told myself I was going to take my time. But I was homesick and butt-weary. So, courtesy of the 75 mph speed limit (which I never broke), I made the 360-mile trip home in 5 hours 55 minutes – 2 gas stops, one Gator-aid, one candy bar.
I’m tired and, a day later, haven’t even begun to unpack my bike, which is sitting on the back patio.
But I’m already thinking. Next year. Red Rocks country? Rocky Mountain National Park? Hmm…….
Some trip stats:
- According to the bike’s imperfect odometer, I covered 2,218 miles in eight days.
- Gas mileage averaged 47.2 mpg. Low was 32mpg, fighting wind between Dumas and Clayton. High was 62mpg, cruising over Cucharas Pass without the wind drag of saddlebags.
Observations:
- 20mph winds are annoying. 30mph winds are exhausting. 40mph winds are downright scary. 40+mph winds are getting into the danger zone.
- The senior pass (for 62 y/o and older) for national parks and national forests is the bargain of a lifetime! Only $10 for a lifetime pass.
- The Wifi at the Raton McDonald’s never works.
- Wool blend socks are better than cotton socks in practically all respects. Worth carrying.
- The difference in gas mileage between 65mph and 75mph is probably a solid 5mpg.
- Cosco’s breakfast bars get real old after a few days.
And the bonehead award for this trip goes to…..
- Me. For driving from Wichita Falls almost to Decatur without noticing that I had never shifted up to 6th gear. Probably didn’t help my mileage any on that leg.
The VStrom is a bit cranky at altitude. She always starts instantly, but needs to have the throttle held open for about a minute; otherwise she stalls. Otherwise, the old girl ran flawlessly, and sailed effortlessly up steep grades and over the highest passes.
As always, my thanks to a number of TWT friends for helping with all sorts of bike maintenance, and my cousin Tom for helping remove some of the "VStrom lean" from the kickstand.