Oh the weather outside is frightful
but the fire is so delightful
and since we've no place to go
let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
I don't know about you, but this little ditty does not apply to any Americans that I know (especially the Big Apple variety).
We don't like to sit around, we want to go, and we want to move. Sometimes I will drive ten minutes out of the way to avoid five minutes sitting in traffic ... and I know that it is idiotic, but I've got to keep on keepin' on.
This morning I wake, have my coffee, check the weather forecast for my route, load the bike, and I am off. Today, Colorado's 'million dollar highway' awaits, from Durango through Silverton and Telluride and then east to Denver. A good plan ... lots of twists and turns through the mountains. I dress warmly because I know that it will be cold, but the roads are clear and I want get up on those snow covered peaks.
I leave Durango, 60 degrees and I am sweating with all of the stuff that I am wearing. But within 10 miles I am over elevation 7,000 feet, and the temp is now down to 43. I see my first elk (it looks like a deer on steroids). About 10 miles south of Silverton it starts to snow. How very quaint. The road is dry but everything around is like a freakin' winter wonderland. The temp is now 31 and I am at an elevation of about 10,000 feet. I am cautious, but hey, the weather channel said this road was going to be OK. In five minutes I can't see fifty feet in front of the bike. This is bad ... twisty road, steep drop-offs, no guard rails (no guard rails or motorcycle helmets in Colorado; as one guy explained it to me, "Hey, who wants to be a vegetable?"), bad front tire, and slippery conditions. Timeout.
I pull into Silverton; right now I am ready for some more coffee and some breakfast. Today's special: banana pancakes. It felt like I was stepping back 45 years in time to my Grandma Maggie's Brewster kitchen with my Uncle John at the stove making pancakes with all kinds of stuff in them - berries, peaches, bananas, bacon. It was nice, a really good feeling. I calmed down.
Turns out that the chef (and owner) rides a hog (Harley Davidson) and he just got in last night from Pittsburgh. He told me that it rained from Pittsburgh to Denver and when he got past Denver up into the mountains he hit blizzard conditions. There were cars in ditches all over the place.
It scared the heck out of me. He told me that my route wouldn't work and he recommended a different, longer way. He told me it would still be bad around Vail but only for about six miles (love that local knowledge). I showed him my front tire ... he recommended a good hotel in town.
At this point, in my hand, I noticed the St. Christopher medal, which is on my keyring. I got this medal about four years ago, and although I have had my share of vehicular mishaps, if I am using this key ring with Chris, no problems. I gave the situation some thought, and decided that my best course of action would be to turn around, head back down to Durango, and drive south around the San Juan mountain range and then north, east of the mountains to Denver - about a three hour detour. Chris agreed. Six bucks for breakfast, four dollar tip for the waitress (owner's wife), and I was off.
It was now 29 degrees, and the road was icy. But within ten miles I was back down to about elevation 7,000 feet, the temps were up, and the pavement was dry. I rode back to Durango. It was 70 degrees when i got there. Fifty miles on the road, but only 30 miles as the crow flies from Ice Station Zebra.
Seventy degrees ... maybe I should spend another night in Durango. Chris convinced me that it was a bad idea.
Next: Rocky and the Buddha
