49 - Gunnison, Durango & The Four Corners
Last summer in Rochester Minnesota, I lived on Kenosha Drive. Since leaving Denver, I'd managed to avoid the rain for the most part. I'd ridden exclusively on wet roads, but had missed most of the rain. There were a few bouts of ducking behind the windshield, but at least I was relatively dry.
If I could only make it to Gunnison, I'd have a place to stay. There aren't too many pictures from my roundabout ride from Denver to Gunnison because of the rain. It was a beautiful day of riding though.
It was very cold, very rainy, and nearly dark when I got into town. I called Toots, Mandi's aunt and she gave me directions to her place. They didn't make sense. "Where are you?" she asked. "Downtown Gunnison," I replied.
"I live in Durango," she said as my heart sank. Oops. She offered a place for me tomorrow and I thanked her and walked away dejected as the rain fell. I wasn't about to get back on my bike, so I walked into a brewpub to meet someone who'd let me sleep on their couch.
I sat at the bar and got to talking to James. He is a pilot and flies corporate jets. What a cool job! He was so excited to hear about my trip. "I'll buy your beer," he offered. He had flown into town and then had a mechanical issue and was waiting on parts, so he wasn't flying the next day and had come to town early to hang out. He's been to every state, most states multiple times. All via air and in the hotrod of airplanes. Sweet!
Later, he asked if I was hungry and insisted that he buy me dinner. Thanks James.
We talked for hours. But after I'd been there a few minutes, I knew that I needed to find a place soon, or else I should get on my bike and get out of town.
There were three girls behind the bar and I waited until they were all together. They'd overheard bits and pieces about my trip and knew I was a traveler.
"It's cold and raining and I don't want to camp tonight. Do you know anyone who'd let me sleep on their couch?"
Two of the girls looked at me like I was only half-sane. Rachel thought for a moment and said: "Sure, you can stay with us. We've got a couch."
Nice - I was so happy.
There were a few hours before closing, so I went back to sharing stories with John.
After the place closed, I mopped the floor while everyone else did the rest of the cleaning. Then, I followed Rachel the few blocks to her place. When we arrived, the place was packed and everyone super friendly.
Again, there were dogs. Rachel on the couch with the little dog.
Edan on the couch with the big dog.
Bowden on the other couch making us all laugh.
We all hung out until early in the morning. What a night!
In the morning, they made a great breakfast and invited me to stay. It was still raining and so I was so happy to be dry and well-fed.
Edan left to go to his house to get a pair of waterproof pants. They'd been out in the rain and were too wet for me to wear right then, but they came in handy later. It was so nice of him to drive across town to get something for me. Thanks Edan.
Then, he called a thrift shop to see if there was a motorcycle helmet I could buy. Before heading out of town, I went to the thrift store, but it was so old and scratched that visibility would have been even worse.
Around 1:00, I set off for Durango. It was raining, but even in the bad weather, I decided to take the long way and to adhere to the route that Matt suggested when I was in Denver at The Candlelight Tavern.
Today was hell. The worst riding of the trip by a factor of many. It was awful. It was dangerous, and at times, very scary.
Wolfcreek Pass was pretty extreme. It was raining hard and I had severely limited visibility. Ducked behind the windshield, my goggles frequently fogged up. I had to slide them down to the tip of my nose to see over them. That left my eyeballs vulnerable to raindrops. The windshield is plastic and heavily scratched from frequently washing bugs off while riding in Alaska. Visibility was near zero.
I tried to stay right behind a car so that I could follow their taillights and not have to worry about seeing far in front of me.
But then there were no cars. I saw a truck going very slow and caught up to him and yelled"
"Man - help me out. I can't see a damn thing. Will you turn on your taillights and let me duck in behind you until we get off this mountain?
"I'm pulling off on a fire-road up ahead. Sorry. Good Luck"
This was awful and crazy.
Unfortunately, there was no way off the mountain other than my Goldwing. Or an emergency airlift. I rode as carefully as possible to avoid the latter.
It was so cold. Tears had filled my eyes a couple of times after being viciously stung by a rogue raindrop.
Rain hurts. It was hovering around fifty degrees and raining. My skin was burning from the cold and the rain felt like I was being tortured by a mad acupuncturist.
A guy from Sweden stopped at the top of the mountain and took this picture for me. I could tell that he was worried about me riding in this weather. Not nearly as worried as I was. The trash bags given to me by a couple of guys at a restaurant I'd visited earlier were no longer working. They had comped my coffee though, and sent me on the road with a refill in my coffee mug. Thanks guys.
They'd said a few complementary things about me and my trip. They get bikers that come through, but none this time of year and few seeking out places like Wolfcreek Pass.
Thanks guys!
The hot coffee hit the spot and I got back on the road. At this point, I was stopping every 20 minutes as I went over the mountain. It took nearly two and a half hours for me to complete the mountain pass.
Even though I was miserable, wet, cold, crickety, and crotchety, I stopped to take a picture.
I'd made it to Treasure Falls.
Sweet!
The knit hat I bought on the ferry had really come in handy. I looked ridiculous, but was a lot warmer.
"Alaska Marine Highway" written across the hat had garnered me a few looks.
About an hour before dark, I made it to Durango. Toots was out of town, but gave me the phone number for Joy. I wasn't sure who Joy was, but I called and said hello and she gave me directions. As I got to the house, the sky appeared as if it would soon split open and soak Durango. It was nice to be inside.
Make no mistake about it. Today was hell. It wasn't fun. It's the only time on the trip that I hated being on the bike. If I had my gear, it would have been safe, warm and fun. Without it, it was dangerous and miserable. No more riding mountain passes in the rain.
Joy was about my age and smiled the entire time. It's so fun to hang out with fun people. It's also fun to eat a huge plate of food and drink hot tea. Thanks Joy!
After dinner, we watched a movie. A Knight's Tail - I'd never seen it and it was nice to relax in a seat that isn't attached to two wheels.
After eight hours of sleeping like a baby, I woke up and cleaned up and met Joy in the kitchen. She planned to take me on a tour of Durango. For a couple of hours, we hung out in town. I like Durango a lot!
We got back in time to meet Toots. After a couple of goodbye's, I got back on the road.
(Yep - more dogs.) Toot's has her boxers trained to be Therapy Dogs at a local nursing home. That's really cool.
When I told Joy that I was headed to the Four Corners, she jokingly suggested that I buy some big 'ole gaudy turquoise jewelry. Hence the picture below. No, I didn't buy it. Though the lady selling it thought there was a chance. Like the lady in Ketchikan who thought I might buy a Muskrat Vest. The difference is that I didn't want a turquoise ring, but I really did want that vest. Yes I know, that's one of those thoughts I should probably keep to myself. I'm going out on a limb and predicting the next fashion rage. (Want to see the picture? Here's the link: Scroll down to see the Muskrat Vest)
I did buy a chain with a pendant. It looks like a tooth, but is made from a shell. A shell found in the desert. Since I'd ridden both coasts, the great lakes, and many rivers, I thought the shell was fitting. Plus, after wearing the same two t-shirts for months, I was in the mood to accessorize.
Fresh oil on asphalt?
It was a scorcher - the desert heat felt nice after the burning cold from the day before. New Mexico was often depressing. Poverty everywhere and little scenery combine for a gloomy ride. Fortunately, I was back in the mountains soon, and even though there were run-down shacks everywhere, at least the view was nice.
This bug might not look like much, but it was set up as a real desert running hotrod. The suspension was trick, as was the motor. It really moved for an old beetle.
Check out the picture below. Isn't my life grand?
It's such a privilege to come over a hill and have this view... hundreds of times each day...day after day...week after week... month after month.
What a trip!
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