Day Ride: Reminiscing

Today was the perfect day for a motorcycle ride. So Donna, and I took the day off to take a little day ride and invited Lin to join us. Being as it's my birthday, I got to choose our destination.  

The plan was to ride from Fort Collins, around Horsetooth Reservoir to Masonville, cut over to US Hwy 34, then up the Big Thompson Canyon to Estes Park -- the Gateway to Rocky Mountain National Park. I don't think we've ridden up the Big Thompson Canyon since before the flood back in the fall of 2013 and a lot has changed. 

I had an errand I wanted to run in north Fort Collins, so I thought it would be nice to ride a little north on US Hwy 287 before turning back and riding south along the series of dams that help create the east side of Horsetooth Reservoir -- Soldier Canyon Dam, Dixon Canyon Dam, and Spring Canyon Dam (Horsetooth Dam closes the north end of the reservoir).

As we sat waiting for a traffic light to change, Donna reminded me that this is the last weekend of Cheyenne Frontier Days. My memory flashed back to my very first "long-distance" motorcycle ride. At that instant, our day changed. 

To the reminiscing part, I learned to ride a motorcycle 20 years ago this year. On that birthday, my son Jason, Donna, and I took my first motorcycle out for a spin. I got more experience in that one day than I might have gotten in an entire summer if I hadn't jumped right into the deep end of the proverbial pool. Today (with a few exceptions) we recreated that trip. 

My first motorcycle was a 1985 700cc Honda Magna (affectionately named "Maggie" long before I owned her, the name stuck). I rode Maggie for 10 years before I finally got a bigger bike. Today, I ride a 2004 1300cc Honda VTX (I haven't named her yet). Quite a difference.

The bigger bike made the ride quite a bit different, too. As we rode north on US Hwy 287 toward Laramie, WY, I didn't feel the wind push me around as much as I remember the first time I rode that stretch of highway. Of course, I wasn't scared like I was on that first ride, either. My son had insisted on riding with me that first trip, which I can understand, but I had felt unsteady enough on the bike without having his wiggly butt on the back (at 15, he was almost 6 feet tall -- all arms, legs, hands, and feet that he eventually grew into). 

Anyway, today we gassed the bikes in Laramie and took I-80 east toward Cheyenne (we decided to wait until we reached CFD to eat). And instead of taking the interstate all the way into Cheyenne (like we did on my first ride, in the dark and in the rain no less) we decided to take the scenic route into the city -- Happy Jack Road. 

Which brought back more and different memories.

Twelve years ago, Donna and I went on a large, organized camping trip with some very good friends of ours -- Short, Keri, and Lisa -- held near an area called Vedauwoo. As we passed through the area, I remembered one of the things that stood out about that weekend -- Keri was determined that our group campsite was going to win the "Campiest Camp" award. So, she planned our site.

She asked Donna and I to bring up our 200-gallon traveling water tank -- full of course. Another friend brought a generator. Someone else brought a child's swimming pool. Keri brought the decorations. By the time the judges came around on Saturday, we had the Wyoming woods equivalent of a Hawaiian beach -- complete with blender drinks. Needless to say, our campsite won that year -- I still have the t-shirt. It was a bittersweet memory, because a couple of months later we lost those friends in a car wreck in Kansas. 

Despite the sad memories, the ride into Cheyenne was absolutely gorgeous. 

We spent a few hours wandering around the various vendor stalls at Cheyenne Frontier Days and grabbing a bite to eat at the food court before going back to Fort Collins. By this time, I was ready to head home, but not quite ready to quit riding. So, once again today, I changed our route and instead of taking the interstate all the way into Fort Collins, I brought us the back way in through Wellington (which Lin was going to take anyway since it's a shorter route to her place). 

We logged about 165-ish miles today. The weather was just about perfect, and what wind we did have mostly pushed us along. It was a great way to spend a Friday. 

I mentioned a few exceptions to our original trip. On that day 20 years ago, Donna and I took a little side-trip -- and ended up riding some 30-ish miles on gravel roads. Suffice it to say we did not repeat that part of the trip this time around. I am not a fan of riding my great big road bike on gravel -- I've done it, but I don't like it. But, I gained enough experience that day to feel much more comfortable riding to my very first motorcycle rally a week or so later -- the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. 

Sturgis this year should be especially interesting as it is the 75th Anniversary and the event organizers are expecting close to 1,000,000 people. Stay tuned, we leave for the rally next weekend. I'll keep you posted on that trip too.