GULLIBLE’S TRAVELS
By Randy Schneider
It all started when I went to coffee one morning about 8 months ago. I over heard some guys talking about their troubles trying to get things settled about a motorcycle ride they had been on. Seems that someone in the bunch did not agree with the way sharing the cost of the gas, from the vehicles, that towed the bikes, and was feeling somewhat shorted. Me being an old biker myself couldn’t help but eves drop on the conversation, and the next thing I knew I was joining in with my two cents worth. To make a long story short I have become friends with this crew of coffee drinking, self medicated, artificial boned bunch of old bikers and we get together most every morning for coffee and about 2 to 3 hours of chit chat.
A few weeks ago Carl and Don (a couple of my coffee-drinking buddies) were talking about taking a bike ride to Colorado. My interest immediately was sparked on that, since I love Colorado and riding the motorcycles, and the fact that I am bored to death with retirement, so I said I would love to go too. After making plans for the next week or so, the day finally came when we were ready to leave.
Day 1
Our day began in Des Moines with it raining cats and dogs. We (3 of us) decided the heck with the rain and got on our bikes and took off all clothed in our rain gear. One other person Craig, crazy as he is decided to ride along in the rain for a little ways too. After about 15 minutes of travel we reached the outskirts of Des Moines and the rain stopped. How nice! We headed on down I 80, stopping about every 120 miles, for gas and a potty break. Getting old kind of sucks because I always have to pee before my bike can even run out of gas. That usually results in even more stops than planned. So after the first 120 miles I completed both agenda’s and did so every 120 miles or sometimes less, as the day went on.
Finally after the long ride across Nebraska, we reached Paxton, where we made a stop for old times sake at Ole’s Big Game Bar. I have always made a traditional stop there to view the stuffed animals from all over the world, and shot by Ole himself. We also needed a cool drink since the temps outside were getting up there. Don, one of our group, had never been there before so it was quite a treat for him, and will probably be a stop for him from now on, just like the rest of the people that always return again and again. We stayed there for about a half-hour, drank a cool one, then tipped the waitress well and got back on the bikes, sore butts and all to get on to our day’s destination which was Sterling Colorado. We took a back road this time to avoid the interstate and all the traffic.
We finally reached Sterling having 600 miles under our fannies, and were ready to find a motel. After traveling all over the south North side of town we finally found a reasonable motel that allowed us to dicker on the price and ended up with a room for $25 each, and it even had 3 beds. What a joy for me because I was figuring I would have to sleep on the air mattress I brought along for just that reason, most motels have only two beds.
After unpacking the bikes and toting all of the heavily packed bags up to the, you got it, second floor, we drank a beer to relax then headed into town to find food. We were very hungry and decided that
Mc Donald’s was not in our culinary frame of mind, so we found a Village Inn and all agreed on it.
Parking our bikes we climbed off and went inside for a great and relaxing meal. Finishing up we decided we were all tired as hell and needed to get some rest for the next day’s journey.
We got on the bikes and started to take off when I noticed Don was having trouble starting his Harley. It sounded somewhat like a spoon in a garbage disposal. Guess how I know that sound? Not good! We stood around there for awhile, letting Don relieve his vocabulary of some 3 and 4 letter words that had been bottled up inside him, as well as let him do a little bit of physical exercise by placing a nice high kick to the side of the bike raising his leg further than he had for some years now. After a few minutes of cooling down, we decided we better take him back to the motel to try and get a good night sleep. We packed all of his valuables in our bikes and left his bike at the restaurant. He climbed on the back of mine and we rode back to the motel.
Don was very upset and I don’t blame him because he had just had the engine rebuilt at a cost of around $2400 and had just picked it up the day before we left. He did not sleep well that night trying to decide what he was going to do. He was awake around 4:30AM and on the phone calling a tow truck to get his bike back to the motel. After the tow truck driver offered to haul it back to Des Moines for him, at the meager cost of $2000, he started trying to figure out his other options.
It is now Sunday and of course nothing is open on Sunday. Don finally gave in and decided his trip to the Rockies was over for this time. We loaded up on the bikes and rode to a restaurant and had a good breakfast while Don hashed over some different options. 1. He thought about renting a truck one way and that was going to cost around $800, so that was not an option. 2. Another idea was to take a bus home and get a vehicle and trailer and come back to get it. Leaving the keys in it in hopes someone would steel it and then collect the insurance. But then who would steel a broken down Harley? They would have to push it wherever they were going to take it and then have to repair it, and that is nothing but work work work.
3. Finally he decided to call his son in Des Moines who was more than happy to hook a trailer on his blazer and come out to pick him up. Going back to the motel after breakfast, Don went in and got a room for the night to wait for his son to get there.
Carl and I felt sorry for Don having to end his trip but we decided we weren’t going to end ours because of his misfortune. We packed up our bikes again, drove around Sterling for awhile looking for a liquor store in an attempt to get Don a 12 pack of beer to tide him over till his son could get there. Again no luck for Don, because Sterling is a dry town on Sundays. We went back to the motel to break the bad news to him and then left on our journey. We found out later that Don had gotten hold of a taxi that took him to a bar where he could spend the rest of the day and then the driver brought him back to his room that evening. There was something said about his having gone all the way to Sidney Nebraska some 60 miles away with someone for drinks, but he did manage to make it back to meet his son in time. His son was there in record time of 7 ½ hours, but they both went to bed and got good nights sleep heading home the next morning.
Day 2
On our second day in Colorado, after leaving Sterling we rode HWY 14 all the way to The Poudre Canyon. We had a beautiful ride through the Canyon stopping once to get some pictures of some of the Kayakers and rafters heading down river at a quick clip. The Canyons River was running very full and very fast from the warm weather and rapid snowmelt in the upper elevations. This canyon is a very twisty windy road that goes on for about 70 miles, and I wanted to stop every 5 minutes to take pictures of the scenes before me, but there were not many places to pull off that didn’t require a quick stop. There were a lot of cars on the road and I didn’t want to get rear-ended by one of them either.
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We got all the way to Walden on HWY 14 then turned down HWY 125 after fueling up again and having an ice-cream cone. Out there you never know when the next gas station will be available so sometimes we were only down a couple of gallons but kept it full just in case.
125 was a pretty drive in some very open country until we got closer to the Arapaho National Forest. We began seeing a lot of logging as we were going down that stretch of road. I assumed it was for making log homes by the look of the piles of logs that had been stripped of their bark. As we entered the forest area a fox ran across the road in front of me startling me at his sudden entrance on to the road.
Don had an experience earlier in the spring, with a fox, which he hit and then he flipped his bike and rolled down the highway for about a hundred and 50 feet before coming to a stop. His riding jacket was torn up helmet skinned all over and his gloves were torn. He only ended up with a badly swollen hand and a hole in his leg the size of a silver dollar. He was actually able to set his bike back upright, and after the paramedics bandaged him up, he got back on it and rode it the near 50 miles back home. He did however go to the emergency room that night and get his leg fixed up and checked over for broken body parts, but none were found.
A little further down the road I saw a moose standing up to his belly in the grassy water along side the road, then some deer later on. About that time we were entering the more mountainous area, it started to rain, and since I already had my rain jacket on I didn’t bother to stop. We rode in rain for about 10 minutes, and the only thing that got wet was my lower pant legs and tennis shoes and socks. By the time we got to HWY 40 near Granby my pants were already dry. We turned on 40 toward the town of Hot Sulfur Springs. As I rode through it I realized I had been there before about 12 years ago. The town hadn’t changed much except the hamburger and Ice cream shop that I visited back then was a vacant building with weeds all over in front of it now. We traveled through town heading for Parshall, which was the next town along the line. You do not want to blink because you would miss it.
While in Walden I had contacted my cousin Dick (second cousin I think), and told him we were on our way and would meet him at the PI. The PI stands for Parshall Inn. It is a quaint little bar and restaurant and about the only business in the town of around 35 people.
I have only ever met this cousin once before and that was probably around 15 years ago at a small town near the Nebraska / Iowa line. They were going to Nebraska for a pheasant hunt the next day, but we all got together for dinner the night before. We had a great time that night meeting people we had never seen before, but were related to. Most memorable thing of all was seeing Cousin Dicks hunting car. He had bought an old Limo and brought it down from Chicago to hunt from. What a laugh we got from that. I wished I had set up to go hunting with them too, but I didn’t have a license to hunt in Nebraska.
Anyway when we got to the PI, we walked inside and right away my cousin said that must be a Schneider.
He was looking at Carl L. I said no that would be me. We introduced ourselves as did Dick and his neighbor friend, and we sat down for a drink. We were told the hamburgers were good at this place so we settled in for dinner. We did some “getting to know each other” through memories of other relatives in common. We had a great time chatting and finally decided if we were going to go to his house, we had better do it before it got dark. Dick picked up the tab before I could blink an eye, so I just thanked him and prepared to leave.
Leaving the PI we drove west about two miles on pavement then turned and went up about 5 miles of gravel road. (Gravel not fun on road bikes) It turned out that about 4 of the 5 miles were almost better riding than some of the paved roads we’d been on. The last mile was loose gravel though so we had to ride very carefully. We pulled into the place and even though it was getting dark I could see that I loved it already. I was blown away to find that they had owned the ranch for over 50 years. I had been under the impression that they had only owned it for a few years somehow.
We parked the bikes in his attached garage and unloaded them, and took the gear into the house dividing up into different bedrooms. I then looked around and found it to be a very nice peaceful place with a rushing creek running along side the house about 50 yards away. I opened the windows to let in the fresh air and heard the sound of the creek rushing by and knew I was going to sleep good that night. I am not sure if it was the fresh mountain air, the sounds of the creek or the having ridden almost 900 miles in two days but I did sleep like a log. I did however have to get up once to pee (A common thing for me anymore and usually more than once), and happened to look outside. I saw more stars than I have ever seen since I was a kid on the farm. I went back to bed and in seconds I was out of it again.
Day 3
Morning brought a great deal of light into the bedroom along with some of the freshest air I have ever breathed. I wish I could bottle it and bring it home. I awoke refreshed and ready to get up and do some exploring of the ranch. Dick had been up already and had coffee, juice, fruit and some other continental breakfast items waiting for us. We sat around drinking the coffee and still getting better aquainted, when Dick asked if we wanted to go 4 wheeling. We said sure, that sounded like fun. I was expecting a ride through the ranch in a 4x4 pickup or something like that. I was even more excited when I found out that he meant 4 wheel drive ATV’s.
We got ourselves appropriately dressed and went outside, where the view of his place and the valley behind it was breathtaking to me. I snapped a few pictures and we headed off to one of a few pole buildings that he has where we found about 9 ATV’s, a couple of pickups a boat and various other pieces of machinery. Dick did a little shuffling around of vehicles so we could get the ones accessible that we were going to ride. After pulling them out he went to fill up two of them, mine was already full; I headed for the house again to pee once more. L After getting them filled up Dick tried to tie a chainsaw on one of them, and not being satisfied with the way it was sitting on the 4x4 just took it back off and said the hell with it.
After a little training session on each of the machines, we all took off down the road for a few miles and then started up some narrow but fun roads working our way to the top of the mountain. We stopped at certain spots known by Dick only, to have a scenic photo shoot, then went on our way up some more. Along the way we came across an old log cabin line shack. No one in particular owns it because it is on open rangeland but anyone can use it. Someone had been there previously and left a mess of beer cans and other junk around. This kind of pissed Dick off. He said normally he would clean it up, but this time he said I am tired of cleaning up others messes and just left it as we found it.
After a few more pictures we left the shack, and headed up a little further, now on a more rustic road, we found a tree had fallen across the road. We had to turn around and find a different road because; you guessed it we left the chainsaw behind. Back tracking a little further we found a different branch of the road which took us to the top where there was still some snow on the road and it was quite cool up there.
Since we had already been on one little rough road, Carl mentioned he liked riding on the rough trails. So on the way back down Dick took us to a REAL rough trail with huge ruts from rain washout to big rocks all over it. On most of it we had to go very slow so as not to tip over. Dick had warned us in the training session to always-counter steer in the direction that we were about to tip. Sure enough on a rough and steep part of the trail, Carl hit a spot and his one side of the 4x4 fell into a deep rut, which caused him to tip dangerously and close to going over. He did like Dick said and reached to counter steer and accidentally hit the throttle by causing the 4 wheeler to sharply go up the embankment and tip the other way dumping him out on the ground. As soon as he let go of the throttle and handle bars the machine leveled back out fell back on all 4 wheels and left Carl hanging upside down along side of it with his foot caught in the handlebars. I wish I had had my camera out and ready for that shot.
In the mean time I am behind him watching the whole thing take place. I started honking the funky little bicycle horn on my handlebars to get Dicks attention. I was also on a steep part of the trail with my 4x4 and by the time I was able to lock my brakes to get off to help him, he was already unhooked and back on the 4 wheeler. He said later, he was a little bruised but ok. (I think he even looked around to see if anyone else was watching and had that look on his face of, I meant to do that). It is a good thing he fell off of it because if he had he ridden it out he would have gone over the edge of the road burm, down a very steep hill side, full of nothing but sage and would have had a fast and rough ride, more than likely rolling it over a few more times before hitting the bottom.
When we got settled down we took off again, much slower this time and being much more careful as to where we were riding. We made it back down the mountain, coming out right next to Dick’s house. We proceeded on back to the shed where we got them from and parked them. Getting off I realized I was covered in a layer of dust as was my water bottle holder and camera bag. After shaking the dust off and getting our legs back stable under us, we headed into the house for a cool drink of water and to relax for a little while. I was talking to Dick and told him I was just going to have to go home and tell my wife I was leaving her and coming back to live with him. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, ‘You better have some big tits then’. I guess I don’t qualify for that since I only have man boobs.
After a little while we decided we better hit the road again so we packed up the bags and put them back onto the bikes to get ready to leave. Carl’s bike is a Yamaha Venture, which is a very top heavy and a somewhat tall bike for his short frame of 28-inch inseam. So when he got it started and decided not to try to turn it around on the gravel driveway, he would just ride it up a steep embankment next to the driveway onto the road and turn around up there. Because he did not let the bike warm up enough, once he topped the steep part of the hill, he let off of it and it stalled on the edge of the gravel road. When he tried to put his foot down to gain balance, there was an impression on the road which didn’t allow his foot to reach the ground and wham, down went the bike, almost upside down. Carl came walking over to us and said “Hey I think I need some help here.” I rode my bike up to the top to see his bike lying clear over on its side. We all ran over to it and with the help of a guy that was mowing grass for Dick we managed to get it back up on its wheels. He had bent his highway peg inward and knocked off a side vent as well as smashing a reflector, bending the clutch lever and scratching his faring on the side.
He was able to pull the peg back out and we just loaded the vent in a saddle bag, having to live with the clutch lever being bent till we got home. All in all it could have been a lot worse. After building up his nerve we tried it again and got it turned around, said our good-byes and thank you’s and left for another day of riding.
We then headed back down HWY 40 to Granby where we filled up the bikes and found a place to eat lunch. When finished we then continued on down the road through Winter Park and then hit I 70. We turned east for a little ways and found the road to Central City and took it. This road wound up a rather steep mountain to the town, which was a gambling town full of casinos. When we got there Carl said “Well there you are, your gambling town is waiting for you.” I informed him I did not intend to do any gambling on this trip, which caused an argument with him saying that I had told him I wanted to go there. I informed him that I had never heard of the place until a few nights earlier when they were talking about it. It seems he had mixed up a conversation he had had with Don and not me. So after a soda (the worst homemade root beer and cream soda we ever drank) we headed back down the mountain again on a different route this time.
Getting back to I 70 we headed west till be got to Georgetown. This is an old and once booming mining town. Stopping at the Visitor Center we got refreshments and relaxed for awhile before getting back on the road. Next we took the HWY 6 loop over Loveland Pass. This was a little scary because the road has no guardrails up on those steep mountainsides near the top. On top of that there are tons of tanker trucks going over that road, because they are not allowed to go through the Eisenhower tunnel. When you look in your rearview mirror and see a big old tanker truck right behind you it kind of makes you feel like some kind of future road kill as you relieve your self in your pants. I will never know why anyone would want to drive a time bomb like that around mountain roads unless you have a death wish.
The top of the pass was very cold and in fact the lake at the top was still frozen. I was glad I had stopped and put on my jacket prior to going up. We came back down into Dillon and then on to Silverthorn. Both tired from the days events we found a motel for the night. After checking in we noticed that there was no Air Conditioner in the rooms. The manager told us don’t worry when the sun goes down it gets pretty cold at night. The room being as hot as it was, we opened all the windows then walked about a mile to a Village Inn restaurant, as my butt couldn’t handle getting back on the bike again that day. We ate a big dinner making the walk back kind of hard, but needed, in order to work off the large amount of food I had just consumed.
Arriving back at the room we found it still rather hot. We went to bed anyway with windows wide open and sure enough it got cold, problem is it took till 1:00AM to get it comfortable in the room. Having to leave the windows open and hear all the noises outside makes it kind of hard for me to sleep too.
Day 4
Morning finally came, we got up, packed our bags, then went for breakfast at a restaurant in the motel parking lot but had to wait till 7:00AM for it to open. It was reasonably priced, good food, and the coffee was badly needed due to the lack of sleep. After breakfast we loaded the bags back on the bikes, filled the bikes with gas and headed back down I 70 where we turned on HWY 91. We went past Copper Mountain ski area and on across to Leadville. We stopped there and snapped a few pictures had a pop and then headed back on the road again.
Following HWY 24 on south to Buena Vista then left on HWY 285 we worked up a pretty but flat valley which seemed to be a 100 miles long in the heat and wind, (was actually maybe 50 tops), up to a town called Fairplay. We filled up there and got a pop again because it was pretty hot out that day and we needed to keep hydrated. Heading up the road again this time stopping at a roadside monument to take some pictures of the valley we had just come out of, was a very pretty place not far from Jefferson. There are a couple of hunting outfitters that have lodges, just prior to climbing out of the valley, that looked like they would be great fun places to go. The area above them would be filled with all kinds of wild life & pack trips would not take days get up there just a couple hours. I think they also had summer hiking and horseback riding too. I would love to do a pack trip like that just once.
After the photo shoot (3 pictures) we headed toward Denver then on down (or is it up?) to Sedalia. We stopped at a bar on the outside of town went in, had a beer and I called Cousin Steve, to let him know we were in town. We asked him if he could come down for a drink and also maybe to mooch a bed for the night. Tickled we had stopped he came into town and met us at his favorite bar, (not the one we were at). I had always heard about he and John Elway having a favorite bar that they met at from time to time. I just assumed it was the big and overly loud bar we stopped at first. Come to find out that it was a very quiet little place that played no loud music and was like a home away from home. We had a beer and a ‘good old down home’ fried hamburger, then followed Steve back to his house. We followed him through some very nice country estates and of course, up a gravel road, again. We managed to make it to his house with no incidents, got off and unloaded our gear again and went inside.
After settling in, Steve mentioned he was about to do a load of clothes and asked if we needed anything washed. We both had used up our long sleeve shirt supply to avoid getting burnt to a crisp, and was glad to get them refreshed again so I also had him do my jeans and undie’s too so I could start fresh all over.
We got a glass of water and went out on his deck to chat. It overlooks a pretty valley of homes that each probably had at least 25 acres of land. Some were very expensive and some very modest.
After sitting out on the deck and enjoying some conversation and cool air then looking over his beautiful home from the outside, we decided to go out to eat. Steve raved about a place (he and cousin Dicks favorite), in Castle Rock called the Castle Restaurant. He told me about their having the best, fried chicken in the world and the fixn’s to go with it. He was right. We ordered two half chickens more than enough for three of us and family style mashed potatoes and a vegetable medley and gravy that was made from the drippings of the fried chicken. I haven’t had gravy that good since mom made it that way back on the farm. I started with a pile of mashed potatoes and made a hole in the center, which I put a large helping of the veggie’s in, then topped it with the gravy. Steve said he does the same thing, so it must be a family trait born into us.
After finishing, we paid the waiter, left him a generous tip and pointed our stuffed bodies outside. It was starting to rain just then. That made Steve mad because he intended to take us site seeing around the area. We drove in some heavy rain for awhile but all the while watching some even heavier rain out the side window of the valley. It was very pretty yet ominous looking.
Steve decided he would take us up to his favorite spot to see something anyway. We went up a large hill to a park where there was a shelter house. We sat there for awhile in the car waiting for it to stop raining. My bladder again got to me so I got out in the rain and ran to the porta potty. After a breezy adventure in that thing, I headed back to the car. Soon it let up some and we got out and rushed to the edge of a cliff over looking a beautiful valley with an 18-hole golf course and a castle on the top of the hill over looking it. The Castle belonged to the man who owns ReMax Realty, the golf course is a private course for him and his wife. He does allow charities to be held there, but charges each person around $700 to play and all money must go to the charity.
Just as the rain quit I managed to squeeze of a couple of shots of the valley with the sun and rain in the background. One of them turned out to be the best shot of the whole trip. I even had some 8 x 10’s made of it, I have sent one of them to Steve as a thank you for his hospitality.
We then continued back to Steve’s house where we engaged in some old family talk and sat looking over his many photo albums of his wife and family. It was a sad time when his wife Judy died from an allergic reaction to Kemo. Steve still grieves to this day some 8 years later. They had a special love for each other unmatched by any other and will always remain even though she is gone. I think it has been hard to move on, but I feel he is finally getting there with the help of his friends and relatives, and maybe a push from a lady he refers to as his next wife that lives just down the road. God bless him.
I went to bed, and got a great night sleep, even though I got a stubbed toe in the middle of the night by turning over and slamming my big toe into one of the steel rods of the antique footboard of the bed that I was sleeping in. Once it quit hurting I slept like a baby (without the diaper change and warm bottle that is).
Day 5
Morning came and Carl and I had decided we would head down the road and eat breakfast later. When I got out to the kitchen I found Steve making bacon and eggs and toast with some great homemade blackberry jelly. We could not turn that down so we sat and ate. After breakfast we loaded up the bikes again, said our thank-you’s and good byes and headed down HWY 105 toward Colorado Springs.
105 is a pretty, two-lane road following the foothills of the mountains almost all the way to Colorado Springs. We only had to jump on about 10 miles of Interstate driving to finish the trip to the Springs. We got off at the second exit, because I couldn’t get Carl’s attention to get off sooner. We wound around the town till we came to a sign that showed us the way to the Garden of the Gods. We stopped at the Visitor Center, looked around, picked up some brochures, and then rode into the park. We had both been there in the past so nothing had changed but we still stopped and took a few pictures anyway at balanced rock and steamboat rock.
After finding our way back out, ending up the wrong way somehow, we worked our way to 7-Falls. It was another tourist trap of a $10 offering. This time at least they had built an elevator to the top so we didn’t have to walk up the 187 steps. More pictures then back to the bikes. They were hard to get out of the parking spot since we were facing downhill. With no reverse it meant pulling the monster bike backward till it could be turned around and pointed down the road. I managed to get mine turned around in the parking spot to get it out. We left the park and headed toward HWY 115. After a very pretty and tight turning ride we realized we were on the wrong road in the wrong direction and ended up at a place named Helen Hunt Falls. This is not the actress, but a famous painter of 7-Falls. She is supposedly buried up there near the falls that are named after her.
Going back down the road till we found our mistake we finally got on the correct highway and headed to Canon City near the Royal Gorge. The drive is a pretty drive even though you are not going through any mountains. It is just the vegetation, red rock formations and lay of the land that is pretty. We got to Cannon City and picked up HWY 50 and headed down a very beautiful winding and twisting road that runs along side the Arkansas River. Again the rubber rafters and Kayakers were in their glory with the over full and fast moving waters of the river. The newly melted snow filling the rivers is very cold. We had heard that there had been a few deaths that week already from people falling out of their crafts and either hitting their heads on rocks and dying or freezing so quickly that they had no energy to move to get back on board. Some areas were even restricted from use because of the dangerous conditions.
We got within 10 miles of Salida, our destination, when we started to get rained on. It looked real bad ahead and so we figured the worst. When we got there, the rain seemed to be suspended in the air above us and only a few drops was making it down. I found later that it was evaporating before it was getting to the ground due to the dry and hot conditions of the area, lucky for us!
We rode into Salida and started looking for a motel and finding it to be quite a tourist town. There were motels everywhere. We stopped at a little Ma and Pa motel and went in to see how much it was going to cost. The lady said it would be $79 plus tax. We balked at that price and asked that she show us the room first. It was a nice room, but the motel had no pool. We told her we were going to look around a little and she got kind of pissed for putting her out like that and then turning her down, telling us we wouldn’t find anything better or cheaper.
We headed down the road to another and didn’t even bother to ask for a price because we noticed there were no air conditioners and we were not about to do that again. Even further we found a Super 8 that had hot tubs and a pool and decided we’re getting this one no matter what. We went inside and found a very friendly and talkative desk manager. We managed to do some dealing with him and got the room for $39 each tax’s included. I wanted to go back and rub it in to the first lady, but decided that would do no good except for pumping my ego and just decided to let it go. We went to the room and unpacked the bikes again and set the air conditioner to a nice cool temp of about 68 degrees and sat down.
After a few minutes of relaxing, and taking a cool wash cloth to my face, I told Carl I was leaving for a little while. I had seen a hardware store while coming into town and thought this would be a good time to try and find some parts that I needed to fix my helmet. On the first day while in Sterling, I accidentally kicked my helmet off of my bike and it hit on the side breaking the plastic bolt off that held my face shield in place. I had to take some electrical tape, the only thing I had along, and bandage it back on. That was only a temporary fix and it kept coming off all week long and I would then have to fix it all over again. I kept my eye out for a motorcycle shop for parts access, but never did see one. I removed the good bolt from the other side to use as a pattern, and went to the hardware store to find a replacement. I managed to match it up with a metal one instead. The new one was slightly smaller around but had the same threading as the plastic one. I bought two new bolts and some Teflon tape for plumbing threading and I used it to build up the threads to the size needed, and went back to the room to fix it once and for all. It worked perfectly, maybe better than the original set was and it worked great the rest of the trip.
After fixing the helmet I got my trunks on and headed for the hot tub. Neither of the hot tubs had their jets working very well but the hot water felt real good and then the pool after was great. After about 45 minutes of going back and forth between the pool and hot tub, I was finally relaxed enough to get some sleep. I no more than got in bed and Carl started snoring. I can’t sleep with snoring going on. Every little sound wakes me up. I then remembered I had carried a pair of earplugs in my shaving kit for years. I got them out and put them in my ears and never heard another sound the rest of the night.
Day 6
Waking refreshed and ready to go we intended to ride over to the Gunnison area then up to Glenwood Springs. This would have been an all day ride and a very scenic one, but we were watching the weather on TV and saw that the whole area along I 70 was going to be very rainy and cold with highs in the 50’s. We looked at each other and together said the hell with that lets go home. We walked over to the office and had a quick continental breakfast then back to the room. We packed up and headed up HWY 24 to Buena Vista again and this time took HWY 24 all the way through to Kansas.
As we came up on the Wilkerson Pass area near Lake George and out of a very beautiful valley that had antelope standing about every 100 yards as we passed, we stopped at a visitor center overlooking that valley we just came from. I could not get a good picture of the breath taking valley from the visitor center due to a hill in the way, and wished I had stopped at a pull off spot on the way up the mountain to get my shots. By the time I noticed the pull off it I was already almost past it and didn’t want to get hit by the cars that were behind me while trying to stop. Wanting to keep going and wanting to make Nebraska by the end of the day we didn’t stay long before heading back into Colorado Springs. After missing about 4 different turns because Colorado road signs suck at warning you of your up coming turns, we finally made it out into the flats of Colorado and headed toward Limon and I 70/24.
Not filling up at Limon was a mistake and I soon realized I did not have enough gas to make it to Colby Kansas. The run down the windy interstate highway at nearly 80-mph makes my bike get sucky mileage. I tried to stop at a small town called Bethune to get some, but to my surprise, there were no gas stations. I doubt there was even a can of gas to use for mowing lawns in the whole town it was so small. So I headed down a little frontage road running parallel to the interstate very slowly in order to get better mileage to keep from running out of gas before making it to the next town. I just made it. It took 4 gallons of gas to fill up and I have a 4.1-gallon tank. I was thinking, sure, dump all that oil in the golf and have none available for poor little small town Colorado.
Wiping the sweat from my eyes and vowing to never pass a gas station again, we headed off to Colby and then on to HWY 83 to 383 where we managed to hit road construction. We ended up sitting about 20 minutes in some high heat on asphalt, waiting for the flagperson and a lead car that we had to follow for about 6 miles, to allow us to go on to 183. While waiting I asked the flag girl how far it was to Holdridge NE, and she said ‘I don’t know I only know where I am right now’. Instantly I realized why she was a flag girl and not a banker or model, just by opening her mouth. Finally moving again, 183 brought us into Nebraska and eventually Holdridge and it was not that far either. Asking around and then finding a nice motel, we got a room for our last night and at a great price. After unpacking for the night we went and ate dinner at a place called the Runza Hut. The name had me worried about weather I was going to have the Runza’s or not after eating there, but I survived and got back to the motel, very tired after our 588 mile ride of the day. It did not take long to fall asleep that night and no earplugs were needed either.
Day 7
When morning came we walked over to the office where there was coffee and a continental breakfast. We ate and went back and loaded our bikes for the last time, because we were now on the last leg of our journey.
We continued on HWY 183 toward I 80 and it looked like we were going to run right into a big storm. We managed to get to I 80 just prior to hitting the storm and turned east and hit it hard. We soon left the storm well behind us. Stopping in Grand Island to put on a Jacket because the air was cold we decided to go ahead and fill up even though we did not need it yet. I informed Carl that I was leaving him at that point and that I was tired of driving at 80 plus mph just to get home. I also let him know I wanted to stop in Lincoln. We agreed he took off and made it home by 1:00PM. I didn’t get home until 4:15PM.
I did make my stop in Lincoln and called another cousin, Rich. I found out I only had his old number from when he lived in Crete and not the new one in Lincoln. I went to a gas station and found a phone book, and thank God he had a home phone listed. So many people now days are going strictly to cell phone’s so no way of looking them up in a phone book. I called him but got no answer. I was ready to just leave when I thought I was not ready to get back on the road just yet. I got out my GPS and put in his address and thought I was at least going to go and see his new home. When I got there he answered the door and said he had just gotten out of the shower, and missed my call. We chatted for awhile as I drank a big glass of Ice water, and then he showed me around his new house. They have a very nice Ranch style home with a full basement, that he spent the past year finishing by himself as well as a large garage for the toys and cars.
It was beginning to look kind of cloudy outside so I figured I better get on the road again in case more storms were going to set in. After getting directions on how to get out of town, I got all the way back to I 80 and found a gas station that was having free hot dogs and pop. So I filled up the bike again and got a couple of dogs and a pop, downed them and hit the road. I took I 80 all the way to Omaha but going only 65 in a 75 zone. I didn’t care if people had to pass me because I was tired of the wind blowing me around and the buffeting from the trucks. In Council Bluffs I took HWY 92 and went east on it till I got to HWY 71 then went to Atlantic then east on HWY 83 to Adair. After that I remained on I 80 still going at a slow pace the rest of the way home. I had put on right at 2400 miles in that week. My butt said at least twice that.
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