Summer Dream 2006

Early out of Boulder with just the right breakfast sendoff from dear Aunt Mary. Such a wonderful stay in Boulder. Lil’ Joe talked about it all day.

Up, up the long delirious burning blue, I topped the windswept height with easy grace. Well a line from High Flight but it felt like that climbing the Rockies. A fuel stop in Estes Park and yes, I had to stop and let the local cattle cross the highway. The Elk run this mountain town, grazing in the medians and wandering the streets of town.

A solid overcast threatened the journey, but at distant edges, blue burned bright. Just out of Estes Park at seven thousand feet, the sun took charge of the scene. A very cool mountain air made the ride invigorating. Steep cliffs at highways edge made the ride intimidating. Thin mountain air and a foolish dart up a hill for a photo made the ride ……. gasp ….wheeze….. puff. Even old blue, fuel injection aside, was more anemic than expected, but made the summit. Twelve thousand feet, you could hear the angels. And the air so clear you could see forever. Those mountains majesty are incomparable.

Descend the western slopes, the verdant valleys, the lush forests, so rich this land. Onward, westward, foothills melt to prairie once again. Western Colorado is incredibly varied. Cliffs, barren land, rolling hills, tall forests, short forests. So beautiful to the traveler in no hurry to leave it all behind. We love to stop the bike along the byway, make the engine still, and listen….. to the wind, the silence most of all. On these vast lands it seems there is no life. There is no sound. One feels to small and yet so much a part of it all. I love these great open spaces, this unspoiled, undeveloped land.

An awesome sight to not believe, the mighty Colorado, the river of Grand Canyon fame, is still a child in these foothills of the great mountains. A mere stream, impossible to imagine what it will become as it grows into adulthood.

Sadly Dinosaur National Monument was closed. Forewarned by Mary the building at the wall has become unstable, not supporting human traffice. A surprise in the dry climate, seen years ago it was concrete and steel. What could have happened.

Afternoon brought Vernal, northeast Utah, big and bussling. The campgrounds of the Green River beckoned. The heat and the lassitude of age diverted this place of rest to a cool motel and ice machines. Camping has given way more often to the luxuries of a cool room, not the best time of year for a monkey that likes JD on ice and a cold shower.

It was a good day.