I hopped on the bike this afternoon with the intention of riding down to Garden of the Gods park and getting some photos of the bike in front of pretty scenery. Three hours and 104 miles later I'm pulling into the drive way, hot and thirsty and happy.
I left the house at around 11:30 a.m. and drove through the neighborhood toward I-25. It was around 65 wonderful degrees out. When I hit I-25 I was just starting to get into the swing of it and thought I might ride on up to Woodland Park, not too far down the road. I was almost to Woodland Park when I saw the sign for Divide, which wasn't too much further up State Route 24. And of course as I was going into Divide a sign alerted me to the fact that it was a mere 18 miles to Cripple Creek. Lisa, my wife, and I had been there a couple of times and found it quaint and historic. I thought it might be a good place to get a few photos. Going into Woodland Park a truck started changing lanes into mine, I surprised myself with my horn reflex (for all the good it did). The guy panicked and started swerving back into his lane, then realized there was no longer room there and came back in front of me anyway. Fortunately that was all the time I needed to slow down and get out of the way. The guy waved and since there was no harm I figured no foul and waved back to let him know there were no hard feelings. I try to remind myself that I've done stupid things while driving myself.
A majority of the ride is fairly straight but once you get a couple miles out of Divide headed south on CO 67 it starts to get interesting. I finally got to break in the new tire. At least until I caught up with a guy and his girl on a cruiser. Cruiser riders are, to me, like a liberal family member. You love them but you have to ask, why? I think all motorcycles are great, all brands, all displacements, it doesn't matter. The few times I've rode a cruiser I felt like I was going to be blown off the back. It's just not the riding position I prefer. In addition, I like to go fast around the corners without dragging metal parts.
So I backed off, not wanting to make the guy nervous. I always hate it when someone faster and on a better bike is tailgating me. I pulled off for a few pictures and was able to play catch-up the rest of the way to Cripple Creek. Once there, I stopped for a few quick pictures, made a fast pass through town and headed home. About halfway to Divide my camera's battery died, which worked out for the best. I could forget about scenery and concentrate on the best part, the ride. Once I got into Colorado Springs I saw a guy in a truck do the same thing to a car that the driver in Woodland Park did to me without the apologetic wave. It happened right in front of me and I was thinking twice in one day is twice too many.
All in all, another great ride. And I broke 25,000 miles on the odometer.
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