SueInBoulder and I started a "tradition" a few years back. We'd pick a fall weekend and try to get lost, grooving on the fall colors, eat well and forgo the camping in favor of a hot shower and soft bed. Along the way we'd take a bunch of pictures, tormenting those of you who don't live in Colorado, and put them up in a report. This is that report. Mostly landscapes. Roughly a thousand miles in two and a half days. We had the luxury of choosing between the old reliable 1100 or the new sexy 950. If it was the latter I needed to mount up some new tires really bad. SIB had Friday off and wanted to get some mileage in a westerly direction if possible. I'll admit I'm kind of stricken with the 950 and was leaning in that direction. Of course I waited until Thursday night to change the tires. If you haven't had the excruciating thrill of changing a rear tire on a KTM 950 get ready for a big bite of humble pie. Took me about four hours. At one point I decided to give up. SIB raised her eyebrows and said, "hmmm, that's a first". I went back to work. I finally got it done but by now it was too late to find the short in my prior weekend's project, heated grips. Whatever, we're on the road tomorrow at the crack of noon or as soon as I can bail on work. Friday dawns, the morning slips by, noon comes and goes. SIB is packed and tapping her foot. About 2:00 I announce a departure time and we jam our gear into the bags. We roll out of Boulder at 2:30, gently as I haven't scrubbed the mold release off and part of last night's exercise was pounding my front rim back into some semblance of a circle. (due to a night ascent and decent of TinCup the week prior - a story for another time.) I've cleverly conned Haydule and Bonnie into some accommodations for the night so our final destination is known. I've got a loose idea of a route to get us there and we haul asses down to and up 285 to Jefferson. Here we turn south. The idea is to ride a cutoff route that Esteban, Yellow Pig and I rode last winter. There is a report somewhere on that fateful trip, 2 hours to cover 20 miles in the slickest snow snot covered road I've ever been on. I wanted to ride it dry and look around since the last time I was there the snow shoved up my visor precluded any real reconnaissance of where the hell we were. (finally, some pictures) Readers may not notice the weather but it was in the back of my mind. O.K., maybe the front. Riding as I often do in the grand scheme of the west, it is not unusual for me to make a significant course change to try to outwit some major weather system. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. For today we just watched and pondered. Tomorrow might be a little more challenging.