So days 5-9 brought us to Fort Collins, Boulder, back to Denver, through Aspen and Peach Valley Orchards, and on to Fruita. First person changes back and forth in this entry, figure it out.
Day 5 – (Bikeseat) Up the Poudre
After making the drive from Denver to Fort Collins we headed up the Poudre. It was wet. The Poudre’s a canyon, as you probably knew, and we first went for a ride at Hewlett’s Gulch. About two thirds the way up the main climb we got caught in a lovely thunder/hail storm mix. Other than that the ride was just swell, with about twenty stream crossings.
Just after the hail cleared
Jeff on one of the many stream crossings
We stayed in the Poudre to head up to Young’s Gulch for another 30 or so stream crossings. Jeff ran, I biked. On stream crossing 46 or so for the day I fucked up, and had a less than ideal encounter with the nose of my saddle. Let’s just say it made me want to go to prison even less than before.
Fort Collins seemed like a pretty fun town, so we tried to go out after getting back to the fleabag El Palomino Motel around 9:15. But after a dinner and a beer we decided we just needed to pass out because we’re lame like that. Seriously, we have a blog. Did you think we were cool or something?
Fort Collins seemed like a pretty fun town, so we tried to go out after getting back to the fleabag El Palomino Motel around 9:15. But after a dinner and a beer we decided we just needed to pass out because we’re lame like that. Seriously, we have a blog. Did you think we were cool or something?
Day 6 – Horseteeth, Silver Saddles, Crazy Hippies, and Cougar huntin’
Rude awakening, 7:00. We tried to go back to sleep, but 45 minutes of banging (not hammer) from the room next door made that pretty much impossible. So we got a fairly early start biking at Lory/Horsetooth State Parks. 1500+ feet of vertical in just over 3 miles is a lovely way to start off the day. On the way down we both ate shit a couple of times on the switchbacks and did our best to hop all the horseshit on the lower sections of the trail. Spent a bit more time in Fort Collins, yadda yadda yadda…drove to Boulder and got there around 6:15.
It turns out there’s only one legal campsite within 40 minutes of Boulder, and it was full. We had made no plans for lodging whatsoever, and spent the next two hours searching for an affordable room. After driving through Kansas where the signs advertise lodging for as low as $26/night, our expectations were a bit low for the Boulder area. We eventually ended up crashing at the Silver Saddle motel, which, while cheap, wasn’t as cheap as we’d like. And then we met a crazy hippy.
The crazy hippy seemed innocent enough, asking only to fill his water bottles and, like noble gentlemen, we invited to our humble abode to dip his beak. We tried to make conversation, but he generally responded with a vacant stare, a classic deer in the headlights. He appeared to exist in a prelingual state, incapable of communicating. We asked him where he was going, you know, to camp, and he responded, amid muttering incoherence in English, broken Spanish and German, “I met a beautiful lady today, a little young, but that’s okay,”. So we hydrated a pedophile.
That night we did a little cougar hunting, meeting such characters as Katie the life insurance telemarketer, bizarro T Bowen and bizarro Mercedes.
Day 7 – Riding Boulder, crashing in Denver again
Not much to say about Day 7 except we rode/ran Hall’s Ranch and Walker Ranch outside Boulder and crashed back in Denver. Jeff stayed with Jeff and Keri again, I stayed with the Waggoners, old family friends.
Rude awakening, 7:00. We tried to go back to sleep, but 45 minutes of banging (not hammer) from the room next door made that pretty much impossible. So we got a fairly early start biking at Lory/Horsetooth State Parks. 1500+ feet of vertical in just over 3 miles is a lovely way to start off the day. On the way down we both ate shit a couple of times on the switchbacks and did our best to hop all the horseshit on the lower sections of the trail. Spent a bit more time in Fort Collins, yadda yadda yadda…drove to Boulder and got there around 6:15.
It turns out there’s only one legal campsite within 40 minutes of Boulder, and it was full. We had made no plans for lodging whatsoever, and spent the next two hours searching for an affordable room. After driving through Kansas where the signs advertise lodging for as low as $26/night, our expectations were a bit low for the Boulder area. We eventually ended up crashing at the Silver Saddle motel, which, while cheap, wasn’t as cheap as we’d like. And then we met a crazy hippy.
The crazy hippy seemed innocent enough, asking only to fill his water bottles and, like noble gentlemen, we invited to our humble abode to dip his beak. We tried to make conversation, but he generally responded with a vacant stare, a classic deer in the headlights. He appeared to exist in a prelingual state, incapable of communicating. We asked him where he was going, you know, to camp, and he responded, amid muttering incoherence in English, broken Spanish and German, “I met a beautiful lady today, a little young, but that’s okay,”. So we hydrated a pedophile.
That night we did a little cougar hunting, meeting such characters as Katie the life insurance telemarketer, bizarro T Bowen and bizarro Mercedes.
Day 7 – Riding Boulder, crashing in Denver again
Not much to say about Day 7 except we rode/ran Hall’s Ranch and Walker Ranch outside Boulder and crashed back in Denver. Jeff stayed with Jeff and Keri again, I stayed with the Waggoners, old family friends.
View from the top of Flagstaff Mt. outside of Boulder
Boulder Dam, from the top of the main Walker Ranch climbDay 8 – Aspen – “a place where the beer flows like wine”
In Aspen we found ten dollar sandwiches and hiked up Ute mountain instead of biking. We met some the female Asian majority at Kendra’s summer program at the Aspen Music Festival. We ate some baller sushi (thank you mama Nealon) and I succumbed to extreme fat body weakness, ordering a large waffle cone of Chunky Monkey at Ben and Jerry’s, which Kevin helped finish as he biked no handed through town spilling on himself. Ended up the night driving to Peach Valley Orchards, a community supported agriculture farm, to spend the night with Emily McDonald.
@ the Continental Divide on the top of Independence Pass
Jeff on the Ute Mountain viewpoint, AspenDay 9 – Organic Farm and Fruita
Woke up, met Ken and Gale, the owners of Peach Valley Orchards where Emily works, and decided to stay around for a little while to help out. We picked garlic and strawberries, Yay!
Now we’re in Fruita, and we’re gonna check out the dinosaur museum before an evening ride and an intimate night camping. Adios.
Woke up, met Ken and Gale, the owners of Peach Valley Orchards where Emily works, and decided to stay around for a little while to help out. We picked garlic and strawberries, Yay!
Now we’re in Fruita, and we’re gonna check out the dinosaur museum before an evening ride and an intimate night camping. Adios.
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