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4Strokes.com - Articles: Howard's Colorado Adventure

4Strokes.com Articles: Howard's Colorado Adventure - Part 1 | Part 2

By Howard McKim of San Diego, California

 Day One
Left work at 3:30.  Truck full of gas.  Straight out of town and on my way.  Truck was overheating through the mountains.  Not a good start.  Stopped in Yuma for gas, and when I got back in the truck it was way overheated.  I had added more fluid to the overflow reservoir earlier, which must be part of the problem.  I figure it can't breathe like its supposed to since its too full.  I pull up into Denny's parking lot to investigate.  I can't go on as it is.  Bright idea (NOT!) -- I'll open the bottom drain plug and let a little fluid out, then close it and be on my way.  When I opened the valve, which I thought was a 2-way steel valve was really a cheap plastic valve, the pressure broke the plug and fluid sprayed everywhere, burning my hand and leaving me stranded.  The threads of the stem were still in the radiator, and all the fluid was on the ground.  Obviously I'm spending the night in Yuma.  Luckily there's hotels all around but that was about it.  Now how in the hell am I going to find a drain plug for an old Chevy on a Friday night in Yuma?

I head into a hotel and ask for the Yellow Pages, and start calling parts stores.  Out of business, number's been disconnected, no we don't carry those, etc..  No luck!  I don't even know where I am in relation to these places.  Finally I call Apples Garage... "We closed an hour ago, and we're not open on weekends".  But ma'am, I'm totally stuck and need some help.  'Let me get my husband'....'Yea I have one of those right here, but I'm about to leave and you'd have to get here in 20 minutes'.  Well I know he's on the same street as me, but how far? I figure I can't chance it.  I unload the bike, and take off on my first ride of the trip, down the streets of Yuma!  Shorts and tennis shoes and all, I find the garage only blocks away.  They're just closing the doors, and I slip in and buy the plug for $5.  He even gives me a used spare and tells me how to change it out, including the busted-off threaded part.  I told him he saved my vacation, and headed back to the truck.  I'll have to take the radiator out to do it, so I spent the night there.  Only 3 hours into the trip, the adventure has clearly begun.

 Day Two
5:30 AM -- I take the radiator out and change the plug, no problems.  Couldn't have gone smoother.  I take my bike out of the hotel room and load it up, got lots of Gatorade in case I get stuck on the highway, and head out on the road.  Much better.  Seems to be running good.  I drive about 14 hours this day, making it to Silverton, CO.  Main St. seems closed.  I found 1 payphone and call the wife.  Then I made it in a restaurant as they were closing the door for a chicken fried steak and a cold Avalanche brew, couldn't have been better.  I then pulled the truck onto a side street, pulled out the bag, and slept in the front of my truck.  Not bad.
 Day Three
Howard's bike sitting in front of a turquoise lakeWoke up early and started getting my stuff ready for riding.  With the bike unloaded, the Sheriff stops to talk to this boy from California.  'You know you can't ride that bike out of town.  You'll have to drive up to such and such mine and park there.'  But I..,  Can't I just... But would you let me...  'No, you'll have to at least drive out of town to unload.'  We look at the map and he tells me I'll get stuck around Lake City since I'm not street legal.  So I drive 3 blocks to the fire road and park and unload, again.  With all the bags loaded, I head out.  The bike is running funny, the suspension is too stiff, and I don't feel all together, so I head back to the truck for some fine tuning.  I adjust the suspension easily, but the idle adjustment is a different story.  With the big tank, its darn near impossible.  I stay stubborn and finally get it close.  A bit too high, but better that than too low.  I'm off again, and I head to the hills. Within the hour I'm over Hurricane Pass.  That just seemed too easy.  Lots of jeeps out too.  I stop by a turquoise lake and take some photos of the bike in the snow.  I load up again, checking to be sure I have everything.  I head up the road about 100 yards, hesitate going uphill since I don't know which way to turn, and laid the bike over.  Its just too top heavy to hold up in an uphill rut.Howard's bike sitting on the Alpine loop  I break the clutch lever and bust my elbow on a rock, going zero mph!  Flustered, I pull over and bandage my elbow, and replace my clutch lever.  As I'm re-packing the bike, I realize I don't have my GPS.  But I just had it at the lake.  So, I head back to the lake, and its nowhere to be found.  I mean nowhere -- Its gone! One hour into the trip, and I've used my spare lever, have a numb elbow, and no GPS. The adventure must go on!

I follow the Alpine loop for 40 miles over to Lake City, passing over Cinnamon Pass.  Awesome scenery, but way too many jeeps and quads.  Most are courteous, some are not.  Took some work to pass some of those folks.  This is clearly a different crowd than the Gunnison area gets.  Nobody was wearing helmets, and there were many infants on the fronts of quads.  Most of the jeeps were rentals.  Before Lake City I hit the signs -- 'No OHV's...  Prosecuted to the fullest extent... don't even try it...' I stop and weigh the odds.  I don't even have a map from Lake City to Gunnison, and its Sunday evening.  I definitely don't want to ride on the major highway to get to Gunnison.  Howard's campI figure the only way to meet my friend Ted (from Denver), my brother (from TX), and Alan (friend from work on the CO 300 ride) is to get to Crested Butte, ASAP.  Back to the truck I say.  I went in reverse for the 40 miles back in race mode.  Full steam ahead, no stops.  I load up back at the truck, and start driving to Crested Butte.  What an awesome drive!  Ouray must be the nicest town I've ever been through.  I'm glad I drove up through there.

I got to Crested Butte and unloaded again, immediately heading out to the remote spot I found last year.  I rode through the campground and hit the single track trail.  I parked in the woods, grabbed my bags, and went down the embankment and into the stream.  Crossing the stream a few times, wearing MX boots, I hike to my spot a few hundred yards down.  Perfect.  I set up camp and go fishing real quick.  I pumped water and made dinner, and packed everything up and hung it from a tree.  All before dark.  What a long day.  Looks like a perfect spot for bears, but I'm too beat to care.  The rain started as soon as I got in the tent, and continued all night.
 Day Four
I got up early, cooked breakfast (2 packets of oatmeal a day), went fishing, and started to pack up.  Everything is wet, and I'm in the woods where the sun can't reach.  Its sunny across the stream on a rocky shore, so I wade across a few times with the wet gear, laying it out to dry.  On my last trip across, the wind blew my almost dry tent right into the stream.  Now its full of water.  Oh well, the sun dried it out without much delay.  I hiked on back up to my bike, and changed back to riding gear.  The mosquitoes were relentless.  Dozens all around me.

Howard's bike parked at Pearl PassI rode back to Crested Butte for gas, then headed straight for Pearl Pass.  This is the good stuff! Just what I'd been hankering for.  The first half is smooth, fast, and fun.  I'm getting used to the weight and feel of the bike.  That's a good thing, because then the rough stuff hit.  Those that have done the pass know, those who haven't beware!  This is the roughest, rockiest route I've been on up there.  My goal was to make it to the top without touching down or laying the bike over.  I laid the bike over once last year right near the top.  I did great all the way to the last stretch, where you can see the elusive pass.  That last hill climb is completely covered in helmet size loose rocks.  Darn near impossible to ride on top of.  I laid the bike over not 10 feet from where I did last year!  I got up, lifted the bike, and made it to the top without further incident.  Woo-Hoo!  I parked the bike in the snow and took a picture.  I had made it to the top without injury.  The Moose guys were on top doing a photo shoot.  They were all decked out in their shiny new logo-laden gear.  (The Colorado 300 was this same week in the same area) I felt proud to be on a work-horse, sticker-free bike wearing camo pants and a North Face jacket.  They sure looked out of place to me, but just by being up there they had to be good riders.

Howard's Colorado Adventure - Part 1 | Part 2

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