For a few years now I have gone on solo summer trips, discovering myself and this beautiful state of Colorado. It started one year as a simple bicycle tour on the plains which morphed the following year into mountain biking the Colorado Trail. Talk about an epic adventure. The CO Trail typically had three or four thousand vertical feet of uphill everyday and I could barely average twenty five miles a day. Fun trip but I lost ten percent of my body weight, some vacation I planned, eh? This picture was taken at Baldy Lake. This trip through the CO wilderness gave me a new respect for mother nature as I was rocked daily by afternoon thunderstorms which made it impossible to make good progress along the trail. This trip redefined travel for me as well as helping me better realize my potential as this trail was an enormous undertaking for me to endure. Loneliness, isolation, hunger, dehydration, extreme cold, sheer joy, paranoia, and pure exhaustion were many of the emotions felt over this trip. After pedaling closer and closer to Durango for hundreds of miles I began riding over Cinnamon Pass. At one point I was passed by dirt bikers and was like, "That should be me!" I could tell by their spirited riding that they were having fun while I was busting my butt off. I was certainly jealous. Fast forward my life story for a bit and I started back in school when my dad offered to help my with acquiring a vehicle. He is an avid motorcyclist and we have spent thousand of miles together on his bikes when I was younger. Seeing as I lived in CO I was able to convince him that a motorcycle was reasonable year round transportation and besides he wanted me to ride. So it was only simple progression when I took my affinity for suffering in remote areas and applied it to my new found hobby of motorcycle travel. This trip was schemed over many months which gave me a consistent goal while going out for pleasure rides. There were many trips to Utah where I learned that motorcycles, by nature of their existence, get destroyed while applying them in their natural terrain. Here a buddy fixes his bike again. I also learned that having quality equipment sure beats not! Don't buy vintage used craigslist tires. These Moab trips also reminded my why I like to be outside... cause it's the bees knees. A bad day outside beats a good day in. I learned a lot about dirt biking and motorcycle travel over the last two years, which are pretty much the limit of my experience. Some of the lessons learned were not at all specific to this activity and were repeats of lessons learned and not learned from past experiences. One of those lessons was, forget what other people want, my life is short and I need to do my own thing. Trying to make other people happy by trying to meet their expectations is a waste of my time. On one Moab day I got roped into rock climbing some choss I've already climbed before and we were almost struck by lightning. This was one of the most terrifying rock climbing experiences I have had and I've had my share of sphincter clenching climbing. Honestly all I wanted to do that morning was do disc golfing in peace. Here is a pic of the formation. It was the corkscrew thing on the left known as Ancient Arts. Yeah, it started snowing while we were up there. What a waste of a day. But after that I was like screw you guys, have fun going out to dinner I am gonna go ride the White Rim Trail. But first I had to leave town which wasn't until about 9 pm. Super wild ride doing it in the dark. I love riding into those long desert sunsets. I almost hit a cow, scored free beers, and ran out of gas, now that's way more fun than almost dying on a desert spire. All this time I have been thinking, "Cool this is preparing me for my next big summer adventure." So I continued to have that philosophy about my riding and also made some new riding buddies with whom I had discussed my epic summer plans. Needless to say they wanted nothing to do with my desire to ride fully loaded dirt bikes on techy trails. We had fun riding together anyways. I've never been a social butterfly, but I was totally trying to get someone to go along with me as this moto thing gets dangerous sometimes. But I couldn't find anyone dumb enough so I figured I better try to learn to be independent! Time for trial runs with gear. I had a blast passing this truck on the highway, I felt real claustrophobic for a second as I was surrounded by semis in each direction on a narrow mountain road. I talked to the driver who was going all the way to California, which made me chuckle for some reason. I liked how the front wheels weren't on the trailer. Also in the name of preparation I traveled to the Midwest to see Tool and Puscifer play at the River's Edge Music Festival in Minnesota. It was well worth it and this gave me the confidence to know I could do anything I set my mind to. After getting back to CO I had time for another shakedown ride before the trip. I decided to go camp up on Argentine Pass near Georgetown. It was a good ride from Boulder as I had figured out all of the backroads to get there. This also gave me a better idea of my packing abilities, what I have been forgetting, and where my riding ability is at. For this summer ride I planned much of it on Google Earth and brought a GPS. I also had maps and such with me. I carried too much food and added too many last minute necessities to the list. Another mistake was making last minute changes to the moto before leaving, but it was the best trip of my life with so many good memories. I broke this and bent that, crashed into those and bailed before them. This trip took me from Boulder to Georgetown to Breckenridge to Leadville to Aspen to Lake City to Silverton to Ouray to Gunnison to Buena Vista and back to Boulder. It was six days of spectacular high country riding that pushed me to my limits and incorporated all that I've got. It totaled about 1000 miles and I had to come back earlier than planned. I had a great time and look forward to next year's shenanigans. Maybe I can find someone ignorant enough to join me... Stay tuned for a report of day one.
Cool writeup. Your showing photos from different journeys, and the nice narrative make this unique. Ride safely
Thanks RGR. So I usually get most of my ducks in a row and then scramble for the last few. This trip was no exception but differed in that I had my dad, brother, and nephew in town the week before I left, so that meant I had to get it together better this time. The three family members rode out from Wisconsin, I did not envy them. Needless to say we rode a bunch together which is fun, unless it turns out your brother is a hardley rider. I hope he won't be the one who teaches my nephew to ride.:eek1 As luck would have it they stayed longer than they told me about, so my trip got pushed back a few days, oh well. It was fun riding with them, even though they couldn't keep up with the DRZ! After an eternity, I left town and made a dash up into the mountains. A couple of hours or so into the proposed week long ride a thon, I bump into a pumpkin rider near timberline. He was on a 520 and hadn't ridden in 20 years or so. Just bought the bike and it was literally his first ride. Nice guy. When he rolled up I was reorganizing some excess bulk and we started chatting. Next thing I knew we were off together down the four wheel drive road and I forgot to strap my tool bag back on. But I didn't realize this for a few miles, oops. And the best part about running around needlessly, afternoon thunderstorms, whoo hoo! The guy I met was nice enough to snap a photo. Eventually we went our separate ways and I continued on toward Georgetown taking some fun back roads. As is the common theme these days, I used a lot of google earth as well as online motor vehicle use maps in the planning of this route. I ended up setting camp just off the road on the south side of Guanella Pass. I was tired and needed a rest. The summer mornings are usually chilly up in the mountains which makes it hard for me to get out of the sleeping bag. The best way I found was to deflate your sleeping pad while waking up, it's so uncomfortable I just have to get out of the tent. Air it all out and make some breakfast. I was stoked for today as there was going to be a lot of unfamiliar terrain for me. I headed into Breckenridge from here. Thirty minutes into the ride I was feeling really good and hit a large water bar at about 30 plus, caught some big air and felt the tires slide out under initial landing, tone it down big guy! That one got my heart racing. After a while I found a parking lot above timberline. Cool!
After some time I randomly chose to go down a road with some seriously loose and steep terrain. I encountered mountain bikers going up this thing, or trying to at least. Been there done that, no thanks. Sooner than later I came to my first bit of single track and I swear I saw some ghost wolf creature, it literally gave me chills and goosebumps. But for real I saw a dog sled team pulling a golf cart. After pounding some highway and tossing dust in the air darting down the dirt roads, after mindful musings and inappropriate remarks, I made it to Mosquito Pass. That one sure is fun. One of them don't stop, just keep going roads, but nothing compared to the next pass. I'm a sucker for a simpler style of existence. Sometimes I want nothing more than to just... Who needs technological devices to keep their minds at bay anyways? Well these little creatures don't need my help. I sure hope they don't all die. Doesn't it go something like, humans could all die and the world would flourish, but if all the bees died the world would perish? Don't know if it's true, but it's fun to think about, or scary. Mosquito Pass got a little rougher after them bees. The DRZ did pretty good. It's really all about being on the throttle. In rock climbing it was "if in doubt run it out." Never had any real value as far as I interpreted it. But in moto land, "If in doubt throttle out" has become instinct over the last year and thank jeebus for that one. That is one of those sayings that everyone should get to experience the joy of. I went down into and through Leadville and somehow missed the turn to Independence Pass. Hauled through there beating some showers and made it into Aspen just in time to find shelter from torrential rain. Ten minutes later the sun was out and people were once again flooding the streets. I made my way through that town and onto Pearle Pass. I was stoked about this one too and for good reason. Heck yes to the bridge! This pass seemed to be a bit steeper than the last, but the views were way better in my opinion. The timing and lighting with the storm helped a little for some good contrast. This next picture portrays the scale of the talus field that you ride through on your way up the pass. Wicked fun as long as you can keep your bike pointed in the right direction. The road is made of some of the largest rocks I have ridden over on purpose. I was pretty pumped by the time I got to the top. I sure was loving life at this point in time. I sat there for a little bit watching the storms build and transform. I decided I should set up camp within the next couple of hours, so down the mountain I go heading south. Eventually I found a trail named Block and Tackle and decided to ride that in the morning. I camped right above a seemingly six to eight foot vertical drop in the trail. I guess I'll be warming up in the morning with some trials riding, sweet! :eek1 Now that I think about it I had two unique run ins with animals this day, I wonder if the ghost wolf was an omen...
When I woke up the next morning I found my belongings had been disturbed. I will admit that I have used unsafe practices when storing my food in bear country. I rarely hang food in trees and did not do so this evening. Instead I put it in my small vestibule, I know it's a terrible idea. My philosophy was that animals would smell the food and come and check it out. Seems like a problem to me. So I was like, "well I will just leave empty food containers from dinner in the vestibule and put that nearest to whatever may come along." Hopefully they will paw under the vestibule, find things that don't have food in them but smell like it, and then carry on disappointed. Well something came along and snatched out the leftover empty can of chicken and my dehydrated meal bag. I honestly think it was a bear because shortly after crawling into the tent after brushing my teeth I heard some alarming sounds. First I hear a tumbling of rocks. My campsite was perched just above the really steep rocky steps on the trail, so I figured something was coming up the trail toward me. This got my heart going a little bit. Then I heard a heavy breathing and steps from a beast not as agile as I. This is when I froze inside my tent, not because I was cold but I had realized that the bear spray I had would do nothing if I am attacked while in the tent. Though it may disable me I suppose. The sounds were getting closer and closer. I decided I'd better do something so I made a tisk-tisk noise, so as not to appear threatening or startle something. The noises were distanced and I think it went away, whatever it was. And it is my assumption that whatever came for the first visit was the same thing that came for a snack later, though I find it hard to believe a bear would have so quietly and carefully extracted the garbage from my vestibule. Anyways, don't do as I do. This poor practice could easily lead to a destroyed shelter, loss of breakfast privileges cause something else ate it, and not to mention the negative impacts of the wildlife.
During breakfast I decided not to ride Block and Tackle solo. Especially considering the real technical terrain of the trail that I camped next to. Instead I futzed with the GPS and found one of a plethora of other trails. I just so happened to be sharing the trail with some mountain bikers. They were real nice people, it was a father and son outing and that kid was jealous of the engine I had. After a steep short descent there was a fence and river crossing. I held the fence for them as they were just behind me. Immediately after the fence was the long but shallow water crossing. The kid was all like, that's easier dad, why aren't we doing that. Immediately I said, "Whoa kid, it may look easier but it's a different animal. Your mountain bike requires strong legs and core muscles but this dirt bike requires a more balanced and complete muscle group let alone the skill set you may need when it breaks down in the middle of nowhere." I think he just liked the fact I didn't have to pedal. I was just stoked to be on singletrack. Speaking of skill sets required for these types of adventures, I believe I forgot to mention that my electric start stopped working after day one. After breaking camp near Guanella Pass I went to press the go button to warm the bike while still suiting up and it wouldn't work. No click, no nothing. It turned out this was from different risers installed before the trip. This pulled the wires loose from the switch. I thought I fixed it before I left and it did work all of day one, kick only from then on. To keep my mind of funked up electronics I enjoyed this. Eventually I got off the singletrack and rode through a course filled with ultra marathoners. Down the highway I went until I connected the pavement to link road. Talk about four wheel drive, there some huge rocks in this one, many that there was no going around. At one point I passed some hikers on the road. I was about to say hello when I realized I better gas it and instead I said, "uh-oh." Luckily I moved right up and over those blocks, true rodeo style. After getting lost and amazingly getting up a steep hill with tree fall that made me dismount and struggle underneath while power walking the bike through the gap. I experienced heavenly singletrack in which I turned around from to deal with the fallen tree again. I had gone the wrong way. After wasting much time I got on the road to go over Tincup Pass. Cruiser riding there. Until I got lost again. Whoops. I don't think I should have been here, but there was no going back the way I came. This was a doosy. I had a hard time dragging the bike away from the puddle before I could upright it. Eventually I met up with a KLR dude at a small gas station in the sticks. Nice guy. We rode together for a few miles and I ended up getting some prepared food at Sargeants. While down on the flats I watched the storms roll into the area I was heading. I was tempted to camp down in Sargeants with showers and a bar. But I headed up into the foul weather instead. Foul it was and I waited well below tree line to make further progress up the trail. While waiting here under an umbrella I watched several mountain bikers go by, up and into the storm. Whackos... Despite the weather I am thrilled as this will be following much of the way I mountain biked on the CO trail.
The terrain is getting better the further I get from the front range. After waiting out the storm a bit I headed up into the green damp forest. After a few turns I started to climb up above timberline. I like the intimacy of the forest but appreciate the perspective of timberline. Just about where the bike is parked in that picture I actually dropped it on the down hill side. It took me about thirty to forty minutes just to upright the portly pig. What a battle! I kept hoping for someone to come along the trail, but it was getting late in the afternoon. Um, yeah, life is good. There is nowhere else I would rather be! In a few quick miles I reached my destination for the evening. This shelter only has three walls but sure beats setting up a tent. I even had neighbors! Immediately I went to work hanging my riding clothes up to dry. The neighbors were tucked in their tent already so I had the entire table to myself. Looking at the picture I have no idea where I got this water bottle and why. I slept well in the hut and felt very rested in the morning. Good thing because I like early starts. I took a brief walk to fetch water which was apparently unneccesary, as my new hiker friends informed there is a spring directly on the side of the trail, just south of the hut. After the water run I scrambled to get out of camp. I don't think I'll carry a water filter again. I certainly didn't use it much and could have easily planned around not having it. It's bulky and heavy. I had another great first few miles this morning. Here is a photo of my hiking friends. They had hiked the Appalachian Trail awhile back and I believe they also hiked the Pacific Crest Trail. They were rather friendly and good spirited, if I remember correctly this was their favorite through hike so far. I was surprised by how quick they were. I woke before them and they were miles down the trail before I caught up to them. Here's the photo they offered to take for me. I really enjoy the variety of terrain Colorado has to offer. This talus field was rather mellow but exciting none the less. Another awesome part of the CO landscape is the cattle guard. I actually bottomed out on this one. Over the cattle guard I followed this road a ways until I found the trail. There was fresh white stuff from the previous storm. I think it was hail. After the white stuff things got out of control. I entered the woods to find the trail narrow and whooped out while traversing a hill side. There were four by four posts placed in the trail to discourage erosion. There were a couple big puddles that tugged on the front wheel funny and I thought I was gonna get tossed downhill. It seemed appropriate that I stop for brunch. Yum, imitation hostess garbage food. What was I thinking with doughnuts? They were certainly all smashed. Oh look, I scored some mulch while ping ponging off the trees and rocks, cool. I thought this trail seemed narrow. Glad I stopped for brunch. Wait what's that? Sweet I broke stuff. Am I hardcore yet? Oh well, I threw on an extra strap that replaced this one perfectly. Off I went. This trail seems to get harder and harder. And the DRZ is getting heavier and heavier. And I hadn't even dropped it yet today, but I guess it was still early as it's not even noon!
Speaking of dropped motorcycles it was about time something happened with that. I was cruising a long and saw a bend in the track with what looked to be great soil conditions. I rolled on the throttle gently only to throw my foot down to the side in some sort of effort to do something better than crash into that tree ahead of me. Luckily I stopped short of the tree. You can see where I instinctively put my foot down, which I wasn't too thrilled about. That so called good looking soil turned out to be some kind of peanut butter textured mud. And I am on a roll today, customizing panniers and now shifters. I ended up riding the rest of trip with this bent shifter. Anyways, the riding continued to rock my world. Riding through the aspen stands is always fantastic with the green forest floor laced with the brown ribbon, the majestic and pure proud aspen stands, usually crowned by a blue sky. And the best part it is looks even cooler the faster you blast through it! But as usual the scenery changes quickly. This next picture shows one of the trail signs for the CO trail. This next little section was a blast. I had a ton of fun cruising up these switchbacks which kept getting steeper and sharper. Some were even stepped. But here it was my turn to do some trail maintenance. I noticed many footprints going around this tree. Don't the hikers ever consider the motorcyclists? Paul Bunyan would have been proud and now that I have done my good deed for the day and karma is in check I can really start exceeding my abilities, not! I've passed this sign with much interest a couple of times now and I would like to ride this route next time I am in the area. It isn't the gnar gnar that is ever so hip to ride, but rather a piece of history. I think it was one of the early toll roads, which I guess was built by Otto Mears and Company, just a guess. I passed on by the toll road taking Slumgullion Pass into Lake City. Lake City is a fun little town with a lot of interesting history, which is often the case for most towns in this state. Both times I have dropped down into Lake City from the East it started pouring once I got there. Here I wussed out and over paid for a dumpy hotel room, oops. The shower felt good though, and then I went in search of beers and food and beer! After all I was on vacation.
The next morning was a regular old Suzuki convention. I was lured to the restaurant by the sign that said all you can eat breakfast. More and more bikes kept showing up. One of the fellows with the yellow bike behind mine, rode out from Florida. Another one of the guys engaged me in conversation. He was nice enough but he kept telling me I shouldn't ride Black Bear by myself, especially fully loaded. It seemed most of his argument was based on the fact that his buddies wouldn't let him do it alone, so he felt I shouldn't be allowed to ride it solo either. I pretended to take his advice seriously and proceeded to haul you know what up Engineers. I got out of Lake City quite early in the morning and had Engineers pretty much all to myself. Dual sport riding sure gets a lot of flack, but I sure do love the concept. Motorcycling to me is just a tool for the experience. It is my preferred method to get lost in the boonies and I don't mean to reference being lost in regards to physical location. This is the kind of lost that soothes the soul.
I reached the Million Dollar Highway and tore rubber down to the intersection with Black Bear. I had been thinking about what the other Suzuki rider had told me. Do I have what it takes to ride down the steps? There is only one way to find out. But first I had to discover the hard way to get to the summit of the pass. I lost momentum cause I wasn't looking far enough ahead on the trail. Kick starting flooded engines sucks I tell you. I sure wish the electric start was working. I think I have burned more calories on this trip from kicking a flooded engine than actual riding. So I decided to bump start the dang thing. Whoops, bad idea. Or at least poorly executed. This was my worst get off of the whole trip. Can you guess which rock I t-boned that stopped the bike near instantly? All this struggle and I was just moments away from being at the pass. There was a lot of great attitudes between all the user groups I encountered. My apprehension was growing as I got closer to the infamous crux of Black Bear. As I got nearer to Telluride I took a break for lunch over the city. I pulled out my cell phone and talked to my girlfriend. Bad news. I had orientation at school this week which I thought was later on. It turns out it was tomorrow. I contemplated my options. High tail it back to the front range until my butt was in agony or head back early at a comfortable pace. I chose the former. I packed my lunch back up and nervously headed for the steps. As I initially saw the technical section I was like oh no. But then I took a breathe and increased my momentum and bounced down the rocky formation. Before I knew it I was at past the tough stuff, which in my opinion was over hyped. Although I will admit my adrenaline was pumping pretty good. I made it into Telluride and headed for Imogene, and I must say Telluride has a terribly slow speed limit in town. Riding up Imogene was a hoot. There were many banked corners that made me feel like I was really moving. The colors of the rocks here was incredible. Down into Ouray I went and north out of town. I ended up taking Owl Creek Pass toward Gunnison. This was a beautiful area with fantastic rock formations. It rained and rained and I often skirted around the storms. Eventually I got back into Taylor Park coming over Cumberland Pass. This was my last camp. I was upset that I had to go home early, especially seeing as I departed late. The following day I took Tincup to Webster to Guanella. The funny thing about Webster was that it was going to be my last dirt pass. And who did I see there, riding what bike? A young man about my age riding a 520 KTM. He had just gotten it and this was one of his first rides, on which he declared it way more wicked to ride than his XR400. The irony lies in the fact that on the first dirt pass I found a rider on the same new to him bike as this guy on the last dirt pass. Maybe this is a sign that I should get a pumpkin bike. Oh my God road took me into Boulder County the back way and eventually I was sitting at traffic lights again. I felt as though no one else on the road could relate to what I just went through. Although in Boulder county, there is always someone more hardcore than you, no matter what the discipline. There is something unique about traveling with the basic supplies through seemingly remote regions. The experience left me feeling removed and distant from the common persons I interact with. Time for a reality check I suppose, which I will get quickly as school started in a few days and it wasn't even August yet. Summer was over and I didn't get to do half the riding I wanted.
Thanks y'all! I received a request for a tool list so here it goes. I brought a tool roll with a screwdriver with small and big bits, allens ranging from 3 - 8, crescent, needle nose, wire brush, emory cloth, file, vise grips, loctite, zip ties, sockets ranging from 8 - 13, (no nine or eleven) and a quarter inch swivel driver with extensions. Also in my daily tool roll I have a thorough supply of fuses including minis for the relay box I have. I almost forgot the wrenches, 7 - 14 (without the 11 and 13.) Besides those basics there was a spare front tube, irons, patch kit, pump, bead buddy, mini stand to support the bike (as seen on adv), valve stem fishing tool, soap, baby powder, spark plug, plug socket, zip ties galore, and wire. Also I brought JB Weld and superglue. While on the theme of required basics, I carried a first aid kit with a space blanket, emergency water purification, and superglue. Don't forget the sunscreen in high altitude or the hand sanitizer. Spare food is good too, especially if you are hanging out with through hikers!
