Crisp and fresh, our day started out with sun and hummingbirds darting at us as we boarded the bike. The morning menu was a canyon of red rocks that rose above the Crystal River. It's never too early to be assaulted by beauty. We followed 133 along the river and up over mountains until we reached route 82, the gateway to Aspen.
The aura changed immediately. Rusted out pickups were replaced with Porsches and Lamborghini. The only cowboy hats being worn showed no signs of sweat. As we rode into town, Gucci, Burberry and Polo advertised their goods. Not the West we've been used to. We are neither rich enough nor famous enough to stay in Aspen too long. The Independence Pass was the only reason to be here.
A pass over the Rockies like no other, it started out leading us through wild flowered meadows then up worn and eroding switchbacks that may only support one car. This was the second time we had done this on a bike, but on our last climb, it rained all the way and I was terrified. This day's ride was under blue skies with little traffic and much enjoyment. At 12,000 feet, we dismounted to experience the summit.
Down the mountain, we leaned over dropoffs and watched the river and road twirl beneath us. The complexity of this run took Jules and Magic to new heights. I, the proverbial Miss Daisy, went along for the ride, hyperventilating at the sheer falls, and rejoicing at the exhilarating climbs.
At the bottom of the pass, peaceful Twin Lakes was our picnic spot. Under the shadow of the stunning descent, we drank wine and listened to the rattle of grasshoppers.
Our attempt to reach new heights was foiled. We roared east across 24 to tackle the mighty Pike's Peak. Arriving after 2 hours of hard riding, we were disappointed by a ranger telling us that the road was closed because of the annual rally up the mountain, The Race to the Clouds. Sports cars, motorcycles and semis run the mountain all day at speeds that don't seem possible. Now we sit in our room watching the race on the news. The peak was conquered in under 10 minutes with a little snow and rain. Unbelievable. I think we might make the race a destination next year. Tomorrow we will be on the peak, but maybe we won't be racing and I hope there won't be any snow!
There have been times that things haven't happened the way we imagined on this trip, but the beauty of having no plan is that disappointment is short lived because around the next switchback, another electrifying canyon, mountain or river appears and we realize that we are where we are supposed to be.
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