A leisurely wake up turned into a forced disencampment after reading the weather. Used to the afternoon storms, we were bludgeoned with a report of serious weather heading our way in the morning. Out the door with two other bikers who forsook their Bloody Mary's in lieu of a dry ride, we all headed toward the king of national parks, Rocky Mountain.
Grand Lake passed with its boats and vacationers and then we were into my favorite park. Early in, we avoided much traffic and slowly immersed ourselves into the ascent. As always, this park lured us in , lying with each turn that it couldn't get better.
Because it was our last dance with the best partner in America, we held it tight and melted closely into each curve. Swaying into the altitude, we defied rain clouds and pretended this would never end. Each peak paled in comparison to the next and then we were riding in unison with some of the tallest mountains in our country. Snow crowded onto the road, adding a chilling reality. The Rockies have been a dessert to our fabulous trip, and today was the whipped cream. We lapped up every bite and yearned for more.
Into the Big Thompson Canyon, we silently savored the end of a paradise. One of my favorite rides, this canyon is carved by a trout fisherman's heaven that can become deadly. As we rode through, we began to see changes from our last trip. One of our favorite places to stay was closed, cabins destroyed. Huge chunks were carved out of the canyon's walls and houses hung precariously off cliffs. Evidence of a destructive flood was everywhere, including a new road. Last September a usual afternoon rainfall turned into a deluge and flash flooding filled the canyon. With nowhere else to go, the water took out all that was in its path. Flash flood warnings have been posted all week and this made it very real.
Leaving the canyon, we abruptly left the Rockies. Flatlanded, we longingly stared at the disappearing mountains in the rear view mirror as the temperature rose. Molting rain suits and leather, we headed toward Loveland and the desert of Colorado. Yet, in this weather pattern, the desert is also getting drenched with much needed rain. Running on route 34, we skirted storms for hours, but our paths collided at Fort Morgan where we put in for the night and watched the sheets of rain wash the desert clean.
The denouement has begun. Always satisfying, but also sad, we look back at our days in the clouds. Colorado was the climax of an amazing climb from the extraordinary to the sublime. Back into reality, we enter a productive part of the states. Instead of snowy peaks and heart stopping passes, oil and cattle begin to fill our vista. Vital to the economy, they are far more important than a thrill ride up a mountain pass, but the thrill ride is vital to our lives and we will take it for all it's worth, for as long as we can.
Top of the Rockies
Let's make tracks!
The Big Thompson
The canyon
Flood damage
Canyon walls
So much storm wind, we picked up some tumbleweed!
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