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Colorado 0's and 5's
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Whilst rolling through the Mile High HOG website, I was captivated and enthralled by various ride descriptions and photographs; Siren songs enticing me with visions of the open road, thoughts of boundless freedom and the soothing harmonies of V-twin thunder echoing across our majestic landscapes. Through these stories, I was vicariously transported - hearing the rumble, experiencing the wind and enjoying the relaxed and pleasing curves of the open road. By now, fantastically entranced over the myriad potential 'Great Rides' of wild imagination, I suddenly experienced a fundamental and proud realization. We often search for alluring cities and counties and coasts and countries and continents. Yet, given this flight of fancy, we sometimes forget that we in Colorado live in a natural palace of amazing grandeur - a riding opportunity of epic proportion, where all we need do - is take time and invite it into our lives. |
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along this route of thought, I decided it'd be worth the while to
capture and observe a short local ride. But how to distinguish what's
"interesting" when we see it most every day? How to avoid overlooking
the familiar and keep this
truthful to a day in the life... Then it hit me - I decided on a mileage lottery! The rules are simple: every time the odo rolls a 0 or a 5, stop (at the next safe turnout) to photograph and observe whatever happens to be there. However, this concept made things a bit difficult for me. Normally I prefer riding until the tank is empty. Stopping every 26,400 feet was going to tax my patience in the extreme and was to require an immensely concentrated change of habit. As for the route... Well, I wasn't about to change those stripes. I'll leave to navigators, the task of planning courses ahead of time. For me, I follow the wind, ask my heart, or simply turn whichever way is free and then roll on to whatever the open road may bring.... |
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As it
worked out, the morning was a gloriously beautiful Monday. The
weather was about as good as it gets - impressive even here. However,
making
this trip on a weekday meant there'd be sparse few compatriots along
the way, and that the highway's familiar haunts would be relatively
quite if not sleepy in their disposition. |
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...598 |
When the sun shines, as it usually does in Colorado, my Harley longs to roll... Before day's first break, I hear The Glide's throaty beckoning from under its cover, through the garage walls, up the stairs, across the bedroom, under the blankets and into my soul. Some coffee. Some time to gather, sort and organize the morning's contemplations. Socks first, boots second. Check. A bit more coffee. Gear, key, wallet, a few bucks - check, check, check, and go. Quick look up. Blue skys! Okay!! Let's Ride..... |
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Brilliant blue sky above; sure
pavement under wheel; colors of fall wafting through the familiar air;
birds calling across morning's still breath.
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...600 |
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...605 |
Past a few
pine trees, a clearing where imagination reaches to the edge of time -
a harsh frontier, once taught, pointed and forbidding in its definition
- now offers welcome refreshment to those passing by. |
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It's sometimes easy to forget what an immense geographic range of freedom we have available to us. Upon first dismounting, I thought to myself "I'm in the middle of nowhere". Then I reconsidered and realized: "Wow!, this is the heart of a land immensely vast, exciting and full of potential!". Harking back to peoples and adventurers inhabiting and exploring America's great wilderness. |
...610 |
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...615 | Presence
and purpose announce themselves as part of The
Journey - familiar in it's excitement, new in it's strange horizons and
alluring in it's soulful form. |
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Rolling into town, throttle back,
rumble poh-poh-pho-pho(tato) - swing out wide, push back and settle
into a curb accommodating in its form, fitting like the
firm handshake of an old, dear friend. Dismount, turn around, step up
to a familiar comfort. Walking through the door where a warm and hearty
'Welcome!'
echos from beyond the reach of wind and sun worn eyes...
Probably my favorite 'biker bar' of all. |
...620 |
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...625 |
Inspirations
of Colorado sometimes include realizations that it's inner beauty
strives to live within us - just as we live within it. |
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Testaments of enduring
individualism embrace
the road while reaching the sky - embodying a deep and fundamental
understanding of freedom, of open passage and a sharing of life's
passion.
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...630 |
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...635 |
Full sunshine illuminates an ever friendly road. No traffic. Full tank of gas. Smooth and familiar motion providing the special gift of freedom wrapped gloriously in ribbons of black, white and gold. |
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With it, the road brings its own
appreciation of perspective, a better understanding of the long-lived
and of the transitory. We to the barn, the barn to the mountain... and
so it goes...
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...640 |
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...645 |
Farmland
and Pine trees - Heartland of America punctuated by icons of its
majesty.
The road winds
and rolls and curves and dips, drawing the spirit deeper and
closer
until absorbed in the Earth and bonding with the sky. Experience
freedom:
throttle up and smile. |
| A Pine
Forest's abrupt edge demarks the boundary of a refreshing elevated
island. Surrounded by Eastern parries and abutting Western foothills,
the Black Forest offers a welcome respite from the heat of Summer,
while at other times dazzling the traveler with amazing stroboscopic
effects when riding through its wild long shadows. |
...650 |
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...655 |
Dropping
downhill and rolling free from the close embrace of the mountain pines,
the vista spontaneously breaks its coniferous confines. A few rapid
downshifts grab interest while initiating glances and establishing a
measured communion with the remnant inhabitants of wild America. |
| Now ever
dominant in its presence, the 14'er
inspires feelings that you can reach the stars of heaven by riding
here. At Pikes' Peak, you almost can. The road runs around the
'back side' to the peak of
the mountain (with the top few miles in gravel). A bit cool this Autumn
of year but a spectacular mid-summer ride for sure! |
...660 |
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...665 |
Colorado
Springs is a city on the edge of nature. A major urban landscape
abutting wilderness, where along its Northern periphery, mile long
trains
traffic coal derived from the upper basins of the American West. |
| The city's
perimeter continues - first West then South - yielding splendid
views in which industrial parking lots explode their confines and
escape into the horizon, frantically climbing foothills in their flight
to reach the clouds. |
...670 |
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Wild- card (...673) |
Garden of the Gods - a
supplemental stop (just because we got some rules, doesn't mean we
shouldn't think for ourselves along life's way;-). The garden exhibits amazingly wonderful scenery along a several mile loop in which a ribbon of pavement threads, surrounds and caresses natures' rich and impressive sculpture. |
| Before
leaving Garden of the Gods, one can not help but smile in anticipation
of Manitou Springs' relaxed, biker friendly atmosphere. A newage hippie
historic kind of town tolerant and patient in its manner. The front of
the Royal Tavern boasts at least a few bikes on most any day - while
across the street, the Townhouse offers a wonderful patio garden in
which to enjoy a relaxed meal and beverage. |
...675 |
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...680 |
As the Sun
continues its Westward drift, wheels roll forward, remaining in motion
throughout the
town of Manitou - rumbling past relaxed establishments on a lazy
street. Drawing tight upon the throttle's grip sets loose a rolling
thunder rising upward
from the canyon's tight embrace until a hairpin turn offers glimpses of
the
Rocky Mountain high. |
| A short
couple minutes hammering downhill along Highway 24 and it's back to
civilization and into traffic and pedestrian hustle that define a city
center. One mile further yet delivers a corner gas station providing
fuel for the sole as well as the tank - views of historic monuments and
tree lined streets. Here the pumps still require payments in cash.
Behind the
counter, conversations are decidedly small town and deeply human. |
...685 |
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...690 |
Rolling forward beneath overhanging trees, camaraderie adds to the warmth of a gorgeous fall day. At the first in a succession of traffic lights, a fellow biker pulls alongside. Clockwork with the traffic stops, heartfelt greetings and snippets of conversation are shouted over the unrest of iron steeds. Four miles later - having never dismounted, a friendship is born. Where routes diverge, one of natures' castle outposts bears witness to the newfound friendship. |
A few miles of road construction gone mad! No safe stopping here on death's dangerous shoulder. So onward rolling through the clutter... |
road work |
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| On past
Monument, where the Tri-Lake Fire Department displays its formal colors
on a
pole. Their more recognized visuals - bright red with
white trim and vibrant shiny chrome are kept safely in a garage, while
their
true colors - guts, spirit, and generosity - remain mostly unseen deep
within the heart of their soles. |
...705 |
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...710 |
Further North, a section of 'The 105' transports past echos into the immediate now, and then onward to future excitement. Colors of fall punctuate an easy and relaxed circuit of happiness, simultaneously free in its form while grounded in biker friendly 'bookends' at Palmer Lake and Sadalia. |
| The Sun
continues its onward march and the activities of an early day become
the quiescent laziness of a timeless afternoon - an afternoon consuming
itself in resurrecting discarded thoughts of today into the precious
memories of
an expansive tomorrow. |
...715 |
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...720 |
A sole
sentry of the western soul, resplendent in its connected isolation
watches todays time gone past while reflecting tomorrows future
prospects in nature's infinite mirror. |
| Some metals
we polish and adore, others we string and abandon to unattended
expanse. The open road free and unencumbered, slips past the anchors of
its way while rubbing shoulders with history's calling - requesting to
be heard, witnessed and
remembered. |
...725 |
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...730 |
A
multitude of pastoral scenes pepper the 105, where intermittent access
road venues showcase the tranquility of a countryside's relaxed
peaceful self. |
| Onward
along the ribbon, through an interstate's busy crossing and past
several quaint coffee shops, down the historic main street, over a
railroad crossing and back out of town where, Castle Rock's iconic
namesake bids farewell to the thankful curves of Highway 86 as the path
continues Eastward toward adventures of its own. |
...735 |
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...740 |
Sundry side
roads offer conduits along which thoughts run free and imagination
embarks on paths less traveled. |
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Rolling on past Franktown's
inviting and friendly Stagecoach Inn, the lengthening shadows signal a
changing of the seasons as afternoon fades quickly into the cool
embrace of a fleeting Autumn's eve.
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...745 |
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...747 | Back home, reflecting and reminiscing, thoughts return to countless relaxed moments spent under the driveway's trees, contemplating reflections in newly polished chrome as reflections on the wonder of the day's journey and the anticipation of tomorrow's amazing potential. Live to Ride - Ride to Live... Live on, and ride it well. |
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And if you're interested, here's a map to the route. |
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