It’s a busy weekend, but what a better way than to start it with a ride on Saturday. Our plan was to shoot out highway 24, past Florissant, to the eastern edge of South Park. I had been on that road two weeks earlier, but I was going east instead of west. It was about a 100 mile round trip, and gave us enough time to get out and back in time for lunch.There were seven of us, and we started at about 8:30. Our route took us through town and then on to Highway 24. The weather was clear, and I really couldn’t see a single cloud in the sky. Knowing Colorado, one only has to wait a few minutes for the weather to change.
We didn’t have any problems at all going up the pass. We had to pass a few people who were just travelling too slowly for the ride, but nothing was too hazardous. We rode through Woodland Park, which was having a Biker’s rally that day, and rather than participate, we continued on to our destination. After another half hour, we ended up at the ranger station on the east side of Mineral Spring Road at highway 24.
This was a rest area and nature center that overlooked the South Park basin. The area was pretty clear, giving us the ability to see Mount Princeton, Columbia, and Harvard, but I couldn’t see Shavano way off to the southwest. After our time there to stop and drink a coke, we headed back east.
It turned out that all the bikers from Woodland Park seemed to be headed out west from there. We probably encountered 150 motorcyclists heading west. As is the tradition amongst bikers, everyone gets a casual wave with the left hand as you pass each other, low so as to not confuse someone behind you as being a right turn signal. There were so many bikers that we just held out our left hand for miles at a time!
We got back to the Springs at around 12 noon, in time for the barbecue for the rest of the afternoon.
On Sunday, I was planning on a much longer ride. This one was to see my cousin’s cabin up in Ward, Colorado, which is a small town about 20 miles northwest of Boulder. The 20 mile distance is through the mountains along the winding roads. This makes the 20 miles seem much more like 40. Last summer, I tried that road on my bicycle. Since it was all up hill on a hot July day, I only managed to go about seven miles before I called it a day.
I decided to travel the back route-from Golden to Blackhawk, and then on to Nederland. From there, it would be a straight shot to the top of Ward. Unfortunately, I took a wrong turn at Nederland, and ended up in Boulder-adding about 25 miles to my trip up to Ward.
We got back to the Springs at around 12 noon, in time for the barbecue for the rest of the afternoon.
On Sunday, I was planning on a much longer ride. This one was to see my cousin’s cabin up in Ward, Colorado, which is a small town about 20 miles northwest of Boulder. The 20 mile distance is through the mountains along the winding roads. This makes the 20 miles seem much more like 40. Last summer, I tried that road on my bicycle. Since it was all up hill on a hot July day, I only managed to go about seven miles before I called it a day.
I decided to travel the back route-from Golden to Blackhawk, and then on to Nederland. From there, it would be a straight shot to the top of Ward. Unfortunately, I took a wrong turn at Nederland, and ended up in Boulder-adding about 25 miles to my trip up to Ward.
Ward sits on a hillside. It’s just east of the Continental Divide. Established when Colorado was part of the Nebraska Territory, it was originally a mining town. It’s over 9000 feet above sea level, and several degrees cooler than the rest of the state. In 1900 a huge fire burned 50 buildings, but it didn’t close the town down. In the 60s and 70s, Ward was known as a haven for counter-culture youth, or a polite way of saying drug using hippies. Now, it still is a home for older people who still wear sandals and hemp shirts. It has quite a history.
My aunt’s family had a couple of cabins there, but they were anything but counter-culture. They still enjoyed the mountains and its area. As a child, my parents took vacations out to the area and we spent many times in Ward. I vaguely remember taking a vacation there at one point, probably in the mid 1960s.
Since then, the cabin fell into disrepair, so my cousin, Rick, has been working for the past couple of years restoring it to a usable state. It’s a ton of work, but it looks so rewarding. The cabin was built around the 1920s maybe… and some of the items seem to be from those days. Rick finally built a bathroom in the cabin within the past few years. Up until then, it had an outhouse near the back door.
I spent Sunday with my cousins Rick, his older sister Betty Ann, and brother Pat. We had another half a dozen relatives there, all of whom I was meeting for the first time. It was a great time, and I hope to keep in touch over the next several years better than I have over the last few.
At 6:30, I had to leave, in order to get back to town within the same calendar date. I headed down the hill back to Boulder. The hill wound around, and my safest speed was about 35 MPH. I made it in to Denver at 7:30, a full hour after I left Ward.
In Denver, I was interested to see the preparation for the Democratic National Convention, starting Monday. Invesco Field was surrounded by security people, and the hotels were all lit up. It looked like an exciting week.
There had been some rain, so I expected that in had passed over without worry. I was slightly mistaken. When the interstate took its southerly direction, I saw some very dark clouds and lightning over southern Colorado. I knew I’d have to stop and put on the rain suit. At Castle Pines, I stopped for gas. When I was through, I donned the suit. Another driver called over to me, and said that the rain wasn’t too bad south of where we were. He also told me that the rain stopped at around Monument Hill. I thanked him for the report, and he wished me good luck.
In Castle Rock, the rain started. It was pretty convenient, because the road went through a construction zone, reducing the top legal speed. I managed okay, but worried about the visibility, traction, and wind. The only way to counter this was to ride slower, but that increased the risk of getting into a collision with someone who was also having problems with visibility. Good luck for me followed: I fell in behind a recreational vehicle that ran at a steady 50 MPH. I found that pretty strange that there were times when I was driving in a big hurry, and frequently swore at the RV drivers who travelled slower than the flow of traffic. Tonight, I needed this guy right in front of me.
We drove at our steady 50 MPH all through Castle Rock, Tomah, Larkspur, Monument, and to the Air Force Academy, where the RV pulled off. Throughout that time, I stayed behind the vehicle, keeping close enough to stay out of the way of faster moving traffic. The only thing that impressed me was that there were two other bikers who passed me like I was in reverse. Either they were really dumb, or really experienced. I gave them the benefit of the doubt, that they had more than my eight months of riding experience.
Only when I got home at 9:00 PM did I discover that there had been four tornados that had touched down in that area where I was riding. That was pretty crazy. It felt really good to be back home.
My aunt’s family had a couple of cabins there, but they were anything but counter-culture. They still enjoyed the mountains and its area. As a child, my parents took vacations out to the area and we spent many times in Ward. I vaguely remember taking a vacation there at one point, probably in the mid 1960s.
Since then, the cabin fell into disrepair, so my cousin, Rick, has been working for the past couple of years restoring it to a usable state. It’s a ton of work, but it looks so rewarding. The cabin was built around the 1920s maybe… and some of the items seem to be from those days. Rick finally built a bathroom in the cabin within the past few years. Up until then, it had an outhouse near the back door.I spent Sunday with my cousins Rick, his older sister Betty Ann, and brother Pat. We had another half a dozen relatives there, all of whom I was meeting for the first time. It was a great time, and I hope to keep in touch over the next several years better than I have over the last few.
At 6:30, I had to leave, in order to get back to town within the same calendar date. I headed down the hill back to Boulder. The hill wound around, and my safest speed was about 35 MPH. I made it in to Denver at 7:30, a full hour after I left Ward.
In Denver, I was interested to see the preparation for the Democratic National Convention, starting Monday. Invesco Field was surrounded by security people, and the hotels were all lit up. It looked like an exciting week.
There had been some rain, so I expected that in had passed over without worry. I was slightly mistaken. When the interstate took its southerly direction, I saw some very dark clouds and lightning over southern Colorado. I knew I’d have to stop and put on the rain suit. At Castle Pines, I stopped for gas. When I was through, I donned the suit. Another driver called over to me, and said that the rain wasn’t too bad south of where we were. He also told me that the rain stopped at around Monument Hill. I thanked him for the report, and he wished me good luck.
In Castle Rock, the rain started. It was pretty convenient, because the road went through a construction zone, reducing the top legal speed. I managed okay, but worried about the visibility, traction, and wind. The only way to counter this was to ride slower, but that increased the risk of getting into a collision with someone who was also having problems with visibility. Good luck for me followed: I fell in behind a recreational vehicle that ran at a steady 50 MPH. I found that pretty strange that there were times when I was driving in a big hurry, and frequently swore at the RV drivers who travelled slower than the flow of traffic. Tonight, I needed this guy right in front of me.
We drove at our steady 50 MPH all through Castle Rock, Tomah, Larkspur, Monument, and to the Air Force Academy, where the RV pulled off. Throughout that time, I stayed behind the vehicle, keeping close enough to stay out of the way of faster moving traffic. The only thing that impressed me was that there were two other bikers who passed me like I was in reverse. Either they were really dumb, or really experienced. I gave them the benefit of the doubt, that they had more than my eight months of riding experience.
Only when I got home at 9:00 PM did I discover that there had been four tornados that had touched down in that area where I was riding. That was pretty crazy. It felt really good to be back home.
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