Here is a long and probably boring ride report. After sitting in home port for many weeks since my last major voyage, it was time to take the strom out on a voyage. I considered several destinations, but there were time restrictions that ruled them all out. I looked on a Colorado tourism website and found a suitable route. The Gold Belt Byway Tour The route primarily consists of three roads runing to and from Canyon City, Cripple Creek and a couple of other mining towns that were booming around 1900. The views were promised to be spectacular and further more, I was pretty sure that it would be a fun trip. For a bonus, the route took me right by the Royal Gorge bridge, which was something I had wanted to see for several months. The Royal Gorge bridge is basically a huge suspension bridge built over a 1,000 foot gorge. Cool! The plan was to leave after work on Thursday, about noonish, then head down using secondary highways as much as possible, swing through Cripple Creek, then using back roads head up to Florissant, which is the start of one of the gold routes. I'd camp out somewhere around Florissant, then on Friday, I'd start out by heading from Florissant down the "Leg 1" which would take me to Canon City. From there, I'd head up "Leg 2" which would end up in Cripple Creek. Leg three would take me back down to a bit east of Canon City, and then I'd camp out again. Finally, I'd head home by way of I-25 Thursday, DAY ONE After getting up at 1:30 AM, I got off work at about noonish. I carefully checked my might WeeStrom out and I got on the road about 1PM. The first short stretch was interstate but shortly I came to Highway 287. From there I headed south into Denver. The map I was using was useless at this point as it had Denver on the map, but none of the roads in Denver. Of course, each town renames the state and county roads to some charming name, but that only further confused me. Surprisingly, I made it through Denver without too much trouble. Unfortunately, the map situation only got worse. Heading out of Denver, towards the mountains. As I went, the views were pretty spectacular. I was saddened to see a large chunk of forest burned up. There were a series of signs that said something like "See the forest you so admired turned to tinder by one careless match." While stopping to take a picture of the charred remains, a vehicle pulled up behind me. The driver was an older guy, probably around 55-60. He was a corporate pilot or similar type pilot with some time to kill. He had grown up in the area and was saddened by the fire. He was a motorcyclist (BMW) and was very curious about my side cases and the vstrom in general. I probably talked to Randy for 15 minutes before parting ways. I continued on my route while Randy set off in search of some camp site he used to frequent, but apparently the site was savaged by fire. Without a doubt, the views were truly breathtaking. Though some areas had prettier views than other, the whole trip was a visual feast. Perhaps the only ugly view. It was while taking this picture that I met Randy. Cripple Creek, Day 1 By and by, I reached Cripple Creek. To be honest, other than finding some pretty roads to travel on, I had done no other research. Perhaps not the best way to go about things, but on this trip, it worked out well. I was stunned by the view as I rounded a bend and stopped to take a photo. It was fortunate, as I saw an info sign and read it to find that this area was all due to gold. In the late 1800's and early 1900's, Cripple Creek and other towns exploded due to gold. Cripple Creek had mines all over. Most of the roads I would be traveling on during the next day or so would be either old rail roads or supply and gold routes. Interesting. This veiw got me to stop long enough to read some info about the area I was heading into. I hopped back on the motorcycle and continued. Just ahead I saw a sign for a gold mine tour. Initially, I had set off just to ride around. However, now and as the trip went on, I changed the original plan to include some tours. The last tour had left just 30 minutes before. Since I realized I would be coming back to Cripple Creek on Friday, I decided to see how I felt the next day, I might go on a tour after all. For now, I headed down to Cripple Creek. My first thought upon seeing the town of Cripple Creek was that it was a delightful little town. I decided to eat. I cruised down the main streets and didn't see too many restaurants but there was a gazzillion casinos. I parked the bike and set off on foot. I finally found a restaraunt. There was a 20 minute wait. I sat down and observed the casino. I thought that Cripple Creek was a delightful little town at this point. I'm not a big gambler. Actually, I don't gamble at all. So a town of casinos didn't hold a lot of attraction to me. Staring at the clientel, I was rather shocked by the steady stream of the old, ugly, and broken down. In Vegas, you see all sorts of people. At the casino I was in the people were bordering on grotesque. Tour buses of old people dragging around oxygen and canes drove up and down the street. Morbidly obese people and people with faces capable of making children run away waddled between the rows of machines. In short, there was no glamour or stars in these casinos. Though I would be coming back to the town the next day, I was glad I wasn't planning on spending a lot of time in this "painted town". I waited 20 minutes to eat at this restaraunt. And I got this in return. Next to me, I spied a decent looking salad. However, avoid the appetizer sampler. Wanderings After dinner, I set off for Florissant. There is a direct route, all paved and nice. However, this is part of the gold belt tour. I didn't want to travel over the same roads twice if I didn't have to. I was in luck, as there was another route. I was in for a shock though. At this point, the map began to give me problems. The map is excellent, with one short coming. It has no route numbers. So when I came to a turn, I had to stop, check the map to see where this turn was and if I needed it. This was time consuming. Additionally, despite the fact that I had been using this particular map for almost a year, I had not correctly learned the key. The road I wanted was not paved, though I had thought it was. Because it wasn't paved, I wasn't able to "stick to paved roads" when navigating. Night was falling as well. I was hoping to find some "free" camping sites in the national forest. However, there were all these driveways in the forest. Until I realized they were not house numbers were forest road numbers. I turned down one. A deer ran off. That's right, deer! This be my spot now! I threw down my sleeping bag. I had no tent, but it wasn't supposed to rain. I decided to put on my pant liner as well as I figured it would be chilly in the morning. I must have looked rather funny to be standing out there in a bathing suit and cowboy boots as I put on the pant liner! (no photo, sorry) With the stars emerging from the sky, I drifted off to sleep. Day 2, Leg 1 I awoke the next day at 5:50 AM. The sun was coming up. I stuck a hand out only to find that my sleeping bag was all wet. Did it rain the previous night? DEW! My jacket and back protector was soaked in dew. Curses! I emptied the top case and threw the wet sleeping bag anything else that was wet in with it. Once again, I was very happy that I had installed heated grips as I set off. This is the view that I got when I awoke. The previous night, I had managed to navigate without getting lost and I expected to find the highway in just a few miles. I was very happy that I was correct. Despite the aggravation of no road numbers on the map, I didn't get lost. In no time at all I had arrived at Florissant and began Leg 1. Though the veiws were very good, the road was paved and it took me less than an hour to ride down County Road 11 to Highway 9. From there I decided to head over to the Royal Gorge Bridge. I arrived at a big sign saying that the park opened at 10:30am. It wasn't even 7AM. Well, since I just wanted to ride over the bridge and not do any of the other attractions, I continued on for several miles until I found that some fool had closed and locked a gate in the middle of the road. FOILED AGAIN! I turned around and headed to Canon City. They have a prison musem in Canon City, and a prison. Size Matters I spread my sleeping bag out over the bike and ate some breakfast, then walked around the town. I didn't want to devote the entire day to waiting for the bridge to open but on the other hand, I should have enough time to finish the day's planned route if I waited the three hours for the park to open up. Sometime after 9 I headed back to the bridge. I decided I wanted to use the bathroom and I stopped at some attraction promising a nifty train ride. The lady inside started talking to me. By and by I came to realize that the trainride was $10 and the park entry fee was $23. The train had a lot going for it. I also learned that the bridge served no purpose. The highest suspension bridge in the world was a feat of engineering. No more, no less. I bought a ticket for the train, and sat down to wait. The mighty Scenic Chief. This powerful locomotive has been in service since the 1950's. I have an uncanny ability to show up for tours and be the only person. The train was no different. They weren't going to run the train until they got some more people. After about 15 minutes, three couples on 2 harleys and a Goldwing trike came up in assless chaps and other fasionable motorcycling attire. They were from Kansas City and had been on the road for 1 week. While the women headed to the bathroom the tour lady started talking to one of the men. It was all I could do to keep from laughing. The man had a southern accent, and listening to him question the lady, and then sell the trip to his two friends and the women were hilarious. Plus, there was a question about the size of the engineer's "equipment." The size issue was rather amusing. But by and by two of the couples joined the train ride and we set off. However, it is still only 3 feet tall. One of the women thought that you rode in the cages behind the engineer, or else straddled the thing like a horse. She was so shocked by the size of the locomotive, she had failed to notice the cars behind the engine. Even I thought the lady was joking when she said this was the train. I thought it was a large toy for the kids. The bridge is behind me. Once back, the couples set off for Cripple Creek. Funny coincidence; so was I! However, I had a different route in mind. Road of Terror The next leg of the trip was back to Cripple Creek. I knew before I set off that this route was dirt, and closed to vehicles over 25 feet long. Further more, areas of the route were advertised as for "high clearance vehicles only." How bad can it be? Note the lack of guard rails. And what a drop in places! Pretty scary, actually. This route was just barely wide enough for a single vehicle. The speed limit was 15 mph and there were sharp curves all along the road. You hoped that anyone coming up the other way was going 15 mph and paying attention. To really make you sweat, there were no guardrails and the drop was hundreds of feet in some places. Though I was pretty nervous for the first part of the road, you came to a noticable change in the road. No longer hundreds of feet up, this new section was mainly just rutted and bumpy. Surprisingly, I didn't see a single car, save for a few parked cars. However, the veiws on this route, IMO, were better than the first leg. Well worth the trip. :] This was also the only part of the trip that I nearly dropped the bike. The heat was intense and my helmet was beginning to smell. In fact, I figured it was like wearing a shoe over your head. I tried to keep the visor closed, but the smell was unbearable. I cracked it a bit. By and by, I began to feel something brusing against my chin. I figured it was lint or something. I kept sticking a finger into the helmet to push the offending lint away. Then it hit me. I had a bug in my helmet. I pulled over, put the bike in nuetral, and began to remove my helmet. There was a large flying insect in the chin bar. I thought it might have been a wasp, but I wasn't sure. Other matters demanded my attention. The bike had begun to roll backwards down the hill! 8o I grabbed the front brake which locked up. The bike was still sliding down the hill. In my left hand, I held my very expensive helmet. In my right, I was holding onto a very expensive motorcycle. My feet were doing everything they could to keep the bike upright, but it was a hard fought battle. The bike finally stopped, the insect had flown away, and I resolved the keep the visor closed no matter how bad the stench. I survived all of these trials and arrived back at Cripple Creek. I headed back up to the mine, bought a ticket, and waited for the next tour to begin. Turns out, nobody else showed up so I got a private tour. Very cool. I did learn that the casinos had come in the early 90's, and had probably changed the town forever. The tour guide, probably about 30, said that tourism had declined in general and that there was no family entertainment. Just old, decrepid gamblers. I liked the mine tour. I like all private tours, actually. Grand Finale Leg three had me heading back from Creek down to a few miles east of Canon City. The general condition of the road was not nearly as scary as the second leg, but much bumpier. It was also busier. I met several cars. Thankfully, everyone kept the speed down. I also think this was the prettiest leg of the three. It followed and old rail road route, used to haul gold down from Cripple Creek and Victor. The views were stunning. No pictures could do it justice. These photos are from the town of Victor. Isn't the city hall grand? Amazing that the town had the money to build such a building in 1900, but today, much of the town is for sale. The sharp drops aren't the only danger apparently! I spotted the remains of a copper jacket in one hole. Sadly, these vandals shot up quite a few signs. Note the loose sand on the bridge. I bet that would be fun in the rain. I rode over this bridge and spied a few people on a hill. They were geocacheing or something. Either way, the photo op was clear. I was worried that the guy would completely mess up the photo that I had in mind. He did pretty good actually. Could you zoom in a bit nex time please? Sadly, no one was on the other side of this tunnel. Though I had originally figured on camping out a second night, there was still a lot of daylight left and I decided to head to Denver. All in all, a pretty good trip.
I know this is an old thread, but I had to comment that I drove on the said road of terror (I believe it is the "shelf road" between canyon city and cripple creek) when I was 16yo(invincible) in the snow in a rear wheel drive crown vic. It was pretty terrifying. Great views here and there though.
Having a crown vic at one time, I certainly beleive you. I'd hate to have been in a car on that road. It was scary enough on a motorcycle.
