Unfortunate Names

     I remember a wine that had an unfortunate name.  It was called "Windbreak."  It was reported to be a very good wine but sold poorly, probably due to the name. 
     Riding in the Sonoma Valley I saw another candidate.  Cepage, makes one wonder just where it seeped from.

The Bike Obelisk

     I rode into Santa Rosa to take a look at the Bike Obelisk.  A new public art work that had just been installed.  I've got to say I  think I like it.                       

     The articles I read about it were quick to point out that no good bicycles were used in the construction of the obelisk.  We in the San Francisco Bay area have some particularly obnoxious bicyclists, so my opinion of a good bicycle and a no good bicycle may be quite different.

 



The Loneliest Road in America

Hwy 50, the loneliest road in America. I love it, not much traffic and while not as dramatic as Southern Utah, the vistas are still grand.

We left Grand Junction headed west and for Ely, about 500 miles, a long day in the saddle.

We pulled into Elk Flat campground after dark and set up camp by moonlight.

The next day we had another 500 mile day, but arrived home happy after a great trip.

Not Rockies, Rocks

West of Grand Junction lies Utah and some of the most incredible country that exists. The weather really warms, but the beauty will take your breath away. The rock formations change by the mile. I just don't have words to describe the beauty. You could take a movie of this ride and any frame would make a great photograph.

The Grand Junction HD Economic Stimulus Plan

Doesn't look like much of a stimulus plan does it?

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Here's the story, my front tire was starting to show some serious wear. The tire was not new at the start of our trip and nearly three weeks of riding two up with all our gear on windy mountain roads had seriously worn the tire. The next Harley Davidson shop would be in Reno, 700 or more miles away, and through some harsh landscape as well. So I went to Grand Junction Harley Davidson.
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Things were not smooth from the start. I run Dunlop 402 PT tires, the parts guy was not sure if he could sell me one because the police use them. After he determined that it was not a crime to buy a tire in Colorado, he told me to be sure to arrive early at the service department as it was first come first served. I said, "I'm here now can't you put me on the list." He said, "That's service, this is parts, Come back tomorrow."
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The next day I'm there at dawn, when they open I'm there. When I come back to pick up the bike, the Service Rep that I had been dealing with sees me and slips away. I suddenly get nervous thinking maybe I'm about to get hit. I've seen The Godfather so I know.

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The new Service Rep is a tall serious looking guy, who frowns a lot, he was the hit man. He said, "We've had a problem with your bike, have you repainted the fairing?" "It must have had a stone chip." "After all the bike has 67K miles." He said some paint came off the fairing while they were washing it and it is all my fault. He offers me $15 off the price of the tire to compensate me and to allow me to paint the bike and maybe have dinner at the Ritz. Really.

Turns out the guy who washed the bike, used a pressure washer and blew the paint off the fairing. I finally talked to the owner and I settled for far less than I should have, oh well, stupid me.

So that's the economic stimulus plan. I stay at a hotel and get a tire in Colorado, have paint work done in California, spread money around, stimulate the economy, everybody, wins sort of.

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Oh yea, one more thing.

Why would a Harley Davidson Dealer even own a pressure washer?

Our Last Day in the Rockies

After our night in the tent during the storm, we dried and packed our stuff and headed over Slumgullion Pass and on to Lake City. We continued north bound on Hwy 149 then west on Hwy 50 till we caught Hwy 92.

Hwy 92 goes along the east side of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. We rolled on and on, I didn't want to ever stop. Beautiful views good road meandering through the Colorado High Country.

When we got to Delta, Colorado, we decided we hadn't had enough high mountain country, so we headed into the Grand Mesa National Forrest.

Hwy 65 drops off the mesa into the canyon along Plateau Creek. The road winds like a snake along the floor of the canyon. We hit Hwy 70 and Plateau Creek hit the Colorado River. We rode along the Colorado River to Grand Junction Colorado. Our time in the Rocky Mountains was over.

The Nights Storm

When we got into Lake City, we saw that the nights storm kicked some butt.

La Veta, Del Norte and The Storm

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We left La Veta and headed for Del Norte, Colorado. Marie's roots go way back in Del Norte, although there are no family living there now. Her family lived in and around Del Norte in the 1890's. We did some research on the families at the museum and the cemetery. Marie and her mother were both baptised at the local church.

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We stopped by Skaff's supermarket in Del Norte for food for dinner, just as we were getting on the bike to leave, a mini-tornado started trying to blow us over. It was all I could do to hold up the bike and as I tried to get the kick stand down, the wind took my hat and blew it high into the sky. Before long my hat was just a dot almost lost in the sky. I figured I would never see it again. The wind blew some shingles off the house next to the parking lot before it went on.

Del Norte is on Hwy 160 and our plan was to go west to hwy 149 and turn into the high country. Del Norte is at an elevation of 7874 ft., but the mountains around are still way higher.

We turned on to Hwy 149 at the town of South Fork and went through Creed, an old mining town. We were getting tired and hungry and were looking for a campground. We stopped at Silver Thread Campground (9500 ft. Elev.) because we were hungry, tired and there were some really dark clouds ahead.

We ate a leisurely dinner and put up the tent. By the time the tent was up and everything all cozy, it started to rain. About ten minutes later, the thunder storm let loose. Flash, one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, thr-BOOOOM. We listened to the storm, until we fell asleep.

La Veta, Colorado

We put Denver in the rear view and headed south on Hwy 25. We passed through Colorado Springs and Pueblo, then turned at Walsenburg and went west to La Veta. We stayed with Marie's cousin, and we liked the area so much we decided to stay a couple of days.

We took a side trip on Hwy 12 over La Veta Pass (elev. 9413 ft.) through the small towns of Cuchara, Vigil, Weston, Segundo and Cokedale. A feature of the area is rock walls called dikes that radiate out from a central hub like a wheel. The theory is that rising lava lifted the ground but did not erupt. Molten rock then flowed into the cracks of the lifted ground and solidified into the rock walls.

The road is good and views panoramic.

We started seeing black rock strata on road cuts. We thought it might be coal, but we are Californians and weren't sure. Then we came to Cokedale and it all became clear. It was coal and they mined it around here at one time. Coke ovens, last used in the 1940's, were still there. Coal is baked in ovens at very high temperature, impurities are driven off and Coke is the result. Coke is then used in blast furnaces to make steel (so now you know and stop smirking).

The City of Trinidad was built with red brick and the older part of the city even has red brick paved streets. Trinidad is on Hwy 25 and we headed north, through Walseburg and to back to La Veta.

The Ute Indians had a unique name for the mountains above La Vita. They called the mountains
"Huajatolla" pronounced "Wah-ah-TOY-ah." In the Ute language Wuajatolla means "world class tits." The mountains are now called the east and west Spanish Peaks. I like the Ute name better.