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Jo Ann and Bernie get up early to see me off on the next leg of my journey. Today I want to get all the way to Estes Park, Colorado, to see Linda’s other sister and brother-in-law. The day turned out to be a day of great ends and a boring middle. As I leave Orem, I head north, right into the middle of those mountains that Jo Ann and Bernie look at from their living room. This takes me into an exquisite little canyon for thirty miles, all the way to Heber, Utah. I believe this is Deer Creek canyon because it passes right by Deer Creek Lake, but I may be wrong on that. This road takes me right past a couple of hot air balloons doing some early morning flying (gliding?) while the ground is cool and the air is still. As I pull over to the side of the road to take a picture, I make a big mistake. First let me say that I never use the side of the road to take a pictures, I make a big mistake. First let me say that I never use the side stand on my Beemer, I always use the center stand. There are two reasons for this, first is that I’m used to a center stand and, second is that the side stand on my bike automatically springs back up when you take the weight off of it. That’s so you won’t accidentally leave it down when you take off since you can’t see it down there, hidden under that left cylinder that sticks out on the BMW a boxer engine. In addition, remember that fellow I met back at the motel who I said owned two BMW’s? He told me it wasn’t a good idea to always use the center stand. Yeah! Right! At any rate, when I pull off the road to take this picture, I’m on large rocky-gravel with an unsure footing. For the first time on the trip, I decide to use the side stand. I have to get into my left side saddlebag and in the process of closing it, I push on it and…. take the weight off the side stand. The next thing I know, my beautiful, pristine, BMW is falling over towards me. I do what I can to stop it, but to late, it goes over on its left side. With the strength of two men I quickly pick it back up but it’s too late. I’ve seriously scratched the left saddlebag. I’m sick! To add insult to injury, one of the balloons has landed and the other is too far away for a good picture. I take a quick picture of the balloon laying semi-deflated in the field and I know exactly how that balloon feels (photo 1). I remount and go on my way. I think about this for the next 60 miles and then decide what is done is done, it was an accident, I shouldn’t let it ruin a great trip.
At Heber, the road intersects with Highway 40, going east all the way to the Rocky Mountain National Park. After hanging a right and pointing my Beemer towards the sunrise, the road and landscape became more and more dry. This stretch of highway was more-or-less straight so I was able to make really good time, but after all of the outstanding scenery I’ve traveled through, this stretch of highway 40 was a little boring. As I finally enter Colorado (photo 2), the mountain state, I am actually reminded, in many ways, of Nevada. Of course, it seems that every stretch of dry road I ride over reminds me of Nevada. Since I was getting tired, I thought seriously about stopping for the night around 4:00 in the afternoon. Sandy, Linda’s sister, had kind of issued me a challenge the night before when we talked on the phone. She said that if I got to Estes Park Friday night, I might be able to go on a rafting trip that Rod had planned for Saturday. Of course, neither she nor I actually thought I could make it all the way to Estes Park since I had never ridden over 400 miles before. Still, here I was at the intersection of highway 40 and Colorado road 36 that would take me right through the Rocky Mountain National Park with plenty of sunlight left. So what if my butt was getting tender. I decided to go for it. As I head north, I finally start to climb in elevation and the scenery starts to get better. Soon I’m entering the park (photo 3). Colorado highway 36 takes you up, up, and over the summit of the Rocky Mountains then down the other side, right into Estes Park, where Sandy and Rod are staying for the summer. The complete ride only takes about an hour and a half to two hours, depending on traffic. During that short period of time you are exposed to some spectacular views of the Rockies. Each time I find myself looking over some awe-inspiring landscape, I wonder why it took me so long to get back into motorcycling. My trek up the mountain took me closer to two hours because I had to stop and take pictures every time the road made a turn or switchback (photos 4, 5, 6, & 7). Then too, there were the cars that traveled even slower than I was. I finally got to Rod and Sandy’s trailer a little after 6:00 p.m. Then too, there were the cars that traveled ever slower than me. Add to that, the setting sun, the growing elevation, the growing storm clouds, and sprinkles, and I finally to Rod and Sandy’s trailer a little after 6:00 p.m. Since neither of us thought I would actually make it, no one was home. I waited our front for close to an hour (photo 8), had one of their soda’s from their cooler, took a phone message, and finally went to rent a motel room because I was afraid I would not get one. As it turned out, Sandy was disappointed because she thought I was going to spend the night in their trailer. Hey, I’m a male. I can’t be expected to remember every conversation I have with people. Sandy and Rod later met me at my motel and we went over to their fifth-wheeler for dessert and conversation. The rafting trip was completely booked but there was a good chance of dropouts. I decided not to chance the raft trip and decided to head for Steve and Peggy’s at a leisurely pace the next morning. Since Sandy was actually working as a ranger in the park, I left their place at 10:30 so she could get some sleep. We promised to see each other again in only two days when they came to visit Steve and Peggy in Highlands Ranch, Colorado.
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