A Longer Ride Than Planned

The following is reposted from adventioneering.com.

After wasting all of Sunday morning, I finally went outside, saw how gorgeous it was, and realized I would be a fool if I didn’t take advantage. A short debate of bicycle vs. motorcycle ended in me putting on my riding gear and grabbing the key to the SV.

I left at 1 PM, and my plan was a relatively short ride of 100 miles or so, heading up Deer Creek Canyon to US 285, then 285 to County Road 126, then CO 67 along the Platte River until I hit the gravel. Then depending on the condition of the gravel I would either head up the hill on the gravel (I’ve done it before, though it’s a bit hairy on a street bike), turn back and take the same route home, or if I was feeling really good add some miles and head down to Colorado Springs.

Instead, I completely missed my turn off of 285 (I had the GPS but I didn’t program the route in) and ended up miles farther down the road at Kenosha Pass. The bike was at 120 miles on the tank at that point, and going back didn’t make much sense so I found what the Garmin thought was the nearest major gas station ahead of me (in Breckenridge) and rode towards that. It wasn’t actually the nearest by road, though I accept that it was close as the crow flies. Still, projecting 40 miles on the highway meant no worries that I would run out before getting there.

Before I go too far let me tell you something about Highway 285. Up until now I have only ridden or driven the four lane portions between Denver and Conifer. My impression was a twisty, busy highway that was sort of fun to drive but with a somewhat dodgy road surface and too much traffic. What I discovered yesterday was that eventually it turns into a two lane 65 mile per hour beast of a road with lighter traffic and good pavement, and some of the best views I have found so far. There were also some fantastic sweeping turns I took at 65, leaned way over (for me, at least), leaving everyone else behind.

I’ve tried to tell people about my experience in South Africa, and my pictures from some of the roads we were on sort of show what I saw, but I frequently felt a sense of majesty and awe as I surveyed the landscape. The way the valleys met the mountains, the way the light shone through the clouds as we rolled down a winding two lane road, it made my breath catch. I felt the same thing here in Colorado on Sunday. As I came down from Kenosha Pass the highway made a wide, sweeping turn, and there in front of me was a valley, farmland covering rolling hills for miles. Surrounding the valley were mountains on all sides, with the sun shining on the snow-capped peaks through clouds. The valley had no trees to speak up, but was dotted with small farmsteads and silver-gray grass.

I found myself laughing out loud, filled with joy as I flew down the road into the valley. Here was something I never expected, such a fine road, with light traffic, and achingly beautiful. When I tell you my breath caught in my throat I am not using a figure of speech; I had trouble breathing for the view.

I eventually reached the town of Fairplay and turned right to head north on CO 9 toward Breckenridge. A different sort of view on this road, but just as stunning. I headed up to Hoosier Pass (11,542 ft) north of Alma as the mountains closed in on both sides, still wearing thick caps of snow. Regrettably, I never stopped for a picture, and I didn’t have my handlebar camera rig in place. Past the summit of the pass, coming to the last big hairpin, there were two massive mountain shoulders covered in glistening snow and ice, with snow on the roadside, and me threading carefully around the gravel that always finds its way onto these hairpins while repeating oh my god oh my god oh my god to myself. I will ride this road again.

Only one thing damaged my enjoyment of this ride, and it was my own fault. Even in May when it’s 70 in Denver it gets cold above 10,000 feet. I should know this having once (stupidly) ridden wearing only a T-shirt under my jacket shell on an 85 degree day. On that day the breeze felt great in Denver, and I was shivering by the time I reached Nederland. This time I was mostly prepared with a sweatshirt and both liners in place, but I wore my summerweight gloves. They are far more comfortable than the heavy gloves I wear in colder weather, but I lost feeling in my fingers going over Hoosier Pass. In the future I’ll have to remember to bring my warm gloves. If I’m already burdening my bike with the tank bag there’s plenty of room for them and no reason not to be prepared. I should have also thrown in a bottle or two of water and some granola bars, since I hadn’t eaten all day.

I made it to Breckenridge and tried to fill up, though the pump completely gave up on me after less than 2 gallons. No idea what happened but that was enough to get home so I left it. I took I-70 back to Denver, which is actually a pretty nice road to ride. Too much traffic for it to be very comfortable, though, and I hit some truly nasty bumps and potholes on the way. The ride also marked the first time I have ridden through the Eisenhower Tunnel on a motorcycle. It wasn’t anything special on its own, but something to note.

According to the Garmin I was half a mile shy of 200 miles for the day. This was the longest day ride I’ve done on the SV650, and I have to admit the bike is pretty good at this. A proper sport tourer would probably be more comfortable, and I found, like Alex mentioned in his post that I needed to stop briefly every 60-70 miles. After 4 hours in the saddle I didn’t have any pain in shoulders, hands, or wrists, at least not until I hit those massive potholes at 70 mph on my way home. I did find that I was shaking and very stiff when I finally got off in my driveway, though that might have been because I did the 90 miles from Breckenridge without stopping at all.

The bike was responsive all the time, had no trouble holding 5,500 RPM for hours, and didn’t seem to care about higher elevations. It just soaked up mile after mile happily and would willingly give me more any time I asked.