No Thru Traffic

After leaving Chipotle Mecca, which is apparently known by some as Denver, we headed south to Colorado Springs. Working on some hot leads by our local pal, Jack, we wanted to check out a few things around this awesome part of the state.

Following some more freeway slogging, we made a quick stop at the Air Force Academy and toured the campus. I immediately had a cold sweat as I kept it under the posted limit and crept past the security checkpoint. I thought that I was breaking some law and anticipated a swarm of Military to cut off my path and throw me in jail for interrorgation at any second. But it never happened, and we ninja-ed on to the visitor center where we were almost convinced to join the Air Force and try our hands as cadets.

From there it was on to the Garden of the Gods to see more rocks. Rocks are big in Colorado. And these rocks were some of the coolest.

Being avid Gran Turismo champions and amateur motorsports fans, we have heard of Pike’s Peak for it’s famed international hill climb long before we heard that it’s view was inspiration for “America the Beautiful”. So we wanted to climb the peak to see if we could make the 19 mile accent faster than the record holder from Japan. It turns out 14,000 feet is a long ways up. My carbureted bike sputtered, lost almost all power and limped along at full-throttle. Old Blue made it though, all the way to the top.

Ryan wasn’t so fortunate – a stop for road construction meant he just couldn’t get going afterwards and fell short just a few switchbacks.

When I arrived at the summit, I was greeted with low-40 degree weather, spectacular views, and a strong sense of accomplishment. The road was packed gravel and dirt for a few miles and the bike’s low power had me wondering if I would ever see the summit. But the road and the ride was awesome. One of the best ever.

When it started to hail and snow, I got the hell out of there. A few thousand feet below and it turned to rain for the rest of the harrowing ride down.

Soon after we  attempted to infiltrate NORAD via the Cheyenne Mountain State Park only to find all of their tent sites filled. So we went south to our always sure bet, a KOA. We arrived moments before the biggest storm yet. It was literally dumping buckets of rain, thunder filled our ears and lightning blurred our vision. I witnessed the tent of a Harley rider succumbing to the weather and rushed over to try and help him save all his stuff from the flood. I did little to help, but we made a new friend that night and enjoyed listening to the 49 year-old Missourian’s stories of his youth – including how much hard time he has done, how he and his buddies inspired the movie Cheech and Chong, and how he has now been straight for several years.

In the morning he took to us so much that he proceeded to model his many new Harley shirts he has aquired during his journey and then demonstrated the perfect way to tie a bandana.

For him, as he reminded us every couple minutes, it was all about the wind in his face and the sun on his back. Really cool guy.