The weather was TOO perfect today, so I played hooky and went for a "little" ride.
Rode the loop clockwise.
Interesting bits, in chronological order:
On CR 43 before I got to Estes Park, I came across this sign. How many time do you think people stopped to tell them there were cattle loose before they came up with the sign?
In Estes Park, I stopped by the
Stanley Hotel. An icon in its heyday, it's also the inspiration for the Overlook Hotel of Stephen King's "The Shining." Younger board members might recognize it as the Hotel Danbury from "Dumb and Dumber." (So you're sayin' there's a chance!
)
Heading south from Estes Park along the Peak To Peak Highway (Colorado 7 at that point) you'll soon pass the
Chapel On The Rock at the St Malo Retreat Center. Unfortunately, due to a
Fire Last November the whole place is closed indefinitely, but it's still an interesting sight off to the west of the road.
I accidentally took the turnoff for CO 7 Business through "bustling" Allenspark, CO. Just before the "main street" rejoins the bypass, I happened to see a set of cornhole boards set up, one on either side of the street. Reminded me of Wayne and Garth playing street hockey.
A little further down the Peak To Peak after wending my way into Nederland, I happened to see an old mining relic posted up on the north side of the road. It's kinda hard to see in the picture, but up at the front of the main arm is a name plate that says "Bucyrus," likely the company that made it. It's no
Big Brutus, but it's still an interesting link to the region's history of mining.
It was about 1 when I rolled into Nederland and I was getting a bit hungry. Fortunately, just around the corner from Bucyrus, on W 1st St, I stumbled across the New Moon Bakery. I've got a thing for locally-run bakeries, and they're also a cafe, so I figured I'd get something to eat and a dose of caffeine to keep me alert.
Holy. Balls.
First off, the ciabatta roll my sandwich came on was some of the most perfect bread I've ever had. Hearty enough to have flavor, but not heavy at all. A good crunch to the crust without being "too" crusty like some people seem to like their French bread (weirdos). Like I said: perfect.
Secondly, and this could have been the "hunger sauce" talking, but that was easily the best turkey and swiss sandwich I can remember having. Specifically it was turkey, swiss, tomato, spinach and pesto on the aforementioned Loaf of the Gods. The sandwich alone made the 2 hour ride worth the trip.
To top it all off, I was helped by the wonderful Marie (pictured below) who used me as a willing human guinea pig to test today's batch of monkey bread. Apparently one of the seasonal bakers had just started back up and Marie was concerned the monkey bread might be a bit doughy. Which, in the middle, it was. But it was also delicious. So I ate the whole thing.
The Peak To Peak continues on south through several small towns and eventually runs into Black Hawk/Central City which is where Colorado keeps its casinos. That far south the road is in pretty good condition (it's a bit rough between Estes and Nederland), but with casinos come bus-loads of blue-hairs. Literally. Dodging a slew of Crown Vics and motor coaches, eventually I made my way down to I-70 for a short hop west.
I have a bit of a soft spot for Idaho Springs. Growing up in Kansas, whenever my family was headed along I-70 west of Denver, we'd always stop in Idaho Springs and get pizza at
Beau Jo's Pizza.
They call their pizzas "Mountain Pies." It's like pretty much any other pizza, with two major exceptions. 1) You order by the pound. Yep, you read that right. 2) They roll up the crust edge so it's nice and thick, and they have bottles of honey right there on the table. Eat the business end of the slice and you've got a chunk of white or wheat crust ready to be topped with local clover honey and eaten as dessert.
Granted, I'd just eaten at New Moon (so good!) and wasn't hungry, but I needed to gas up the bike and stretch my legs, so I stopped by just for old times sake. (Pro tip: you can't replicate the original. They've opened several locations. None of them are as good as the one in Idaho Springs.)
Once I'd gassed up, I continued west on I-70 to the exit for Empire. Specifically, I was looking forward to climbing the switchbacks on US 40. That little ribbon of road off to the right? That leads back to Empire.
US 40 eventually leads to Berthoud Pass, at 11,307 feet.
Berthoud Pass is not a place for fun and games!
Fortunately, you do get a pretty good idea of where you're headed.
They also make sure to point out in the most no-nonsense way possible that this is dangerous country and you're in serious danger of being either shot with a howitzer, or buried under an avalanche. Fortunately, skiers are known for being a serious bunch and respecting authority.
North of Berthoud Pass is Winter Park, where I learned to ski when I was but a wee one.
On the way out of town I must have hit rush hour because I was stuck behind a line of cars. There must have been, like, 4 of em. Well, until the Subaru turned off. Then traffic started to move at a decent pace.
Gassed up again in Granby, then turned off onto CO 125 and said "So long!" to civilization. Seriously, there's NOTHING out there. Well, there IS a sign saying that you've reached
, which was my second and last Continental Divide crossing of the day. But aside from that? Nothing and nobody.
Once you emerge from the Arapahoe National Forest, you reach a high mountain prairie. That translates into a vast expanse of scrub brush and grassland surrounded on most sides by snow-capped peaks. As far as I can tell, it's a 40-50 mile by 60 mile area of relatively flat farmland, perfect for grazing cattle when the weather is okay-ish. With nothing to keep a breeze from becoming a gale, and given that it's at 8,000+ feet elevation, it seems like a perfect recipe for a hellishly cold winter and some frozen cows.
Oh, wait, that already happened. 
A sense of humor is a necessity for surviving long winters. Just ask the guys who started the
.
A short while later (the speed limit is 65, the road is straight, and there's NO ONE around) I reached the Moose Viewing Capital of Colorado.
No, really, that's Walden's claim to fame.
Realizing I was running out of daylight, I decided to push my luck and hightail it for home. Is there a shortcu... oh. Nope. Not an option.
CO 14 up and over
and past Joe Wright Reservoir WHICH IS STILL FROZEN. Damn, was I glad for those heated grips!
Hauled balls all the way down the Poudre Canyon. Named for the
Cache La Poudre River. The locals call it "The Pooter."
Down The Pooter, past The Mish, past Joe's Corner, through LaPorte, and back home. Just in time to crack a beer and watch the sunset from my patio.
Holy make the beast with two backs, I'm tired.
