We camped near Durango, where the temps hit 100º daily and the lack of breeze in the pines left a smothering feel. We were much closer to town than our last campsite, which made things easier, but at the same time the heat made going to "town" completely undesirable. After a day or two of sorting the camp and chilling, we took the bikes and headed for Silverton and Ouray to escape said heat.
Progressing up Hwy 550 into the elevation, I watched the temperature drop until we rolled under a rain cloud near Molas Pass, which at 10,900' or so made for a cool 70's temperatures experience. It felt good to be moving on the bikes, once again flying on the ground high into the mountains, sweeping through the curves and switchbacks, one's breath taken away by the immensity of the mountain beauty around.
A short break for gas, a small quantity of ice to keep our stir-fried chicken cool and a tire pressure check was the only break on the way. Kim's bike has had a low tire pressure warning for a couple of days, but both my digital gauges had shown it to be well within or above the recommended pressure. I had finally assumed that it must a failed sensor in the front wheel, but in a last act of desperation had her pull over again to try and deflate the tire quickly to see if it would trigger a reset of the monitor. Before proceeding, I again checked the pressure with my digital gauge and then again with the gauge on MotoPumps compressor. Both showed 34 pounds and the BMW warning showed 23 lbs. I had an old Slime analog needle gauge in my kit and when I tried it for a third opinion, it read exactly 23 lbs... same as the BMW sensor warning. Hard to imagine that both my new MotoPump and Slime digital gauge would be identically 10 lbs off, but I went with the 23 and added 10 more to the tire which took care of the warning. It's a bit disturbing to think Kim had been running with low pressure in the front, though 23 is fine for dirt roads and front end traction. Previous to this I'd gone through all of my tire pumps and gauges and found several to be reading high, so I massacred the lot and bought new gauges and pump. The new ones all read identically and I was happy. Until this episode. Maybe someplace I can find a calibrated gauge to find out which are accurate.
But back to the story... Hearing exclamations of excitement in my headset brought smiles. Having ridden so much solo and experienced so much wonder, I really enjoyed hearing someone else experiencing it for the first time. Kim has had riding experience, but this is her first true long term adventure ride and we've been getting her up to speed - pun intended - riding some dirt with loaded cases and getting a feel for her new bike, an F700GS. Previously, her lowered F650 left her confidently flat footed, but the taller 700 still has her a bit tenuous.
The road slipped under easily as we made descent from Molas Lake and Pass towards Silverton, until we hit the pullout that overlooks Silverton. I hadn't been to Silver Town in a very long time and the view over the old mining town was nice to see again. As we rolled into town in the cool overcast air, Kim was excited to see the old town and that a step back in time still existed. We cruised the side streets before stopping in front of the old hotel to walk and grab some coffee. Our meal of stir-fried chicken with garlic went down very well on a bench in front of the coffee shop, along with a caramel macchiato from within. It was fun watching the various bikes, folks, jeeps and UTV's roll by.
After a bit, two BMW water boxers idled up to park, a bit dusty and dirty. After they dismounted and settled down I asked if they'd come over the passes. The lady rider, whose name I can't recall said they had indeed but were exhausted. Turns out she and her male travel partner had ridden up from Katy, Texas for a one week trip and ended up Silverton for the night, having had to cancel their attempt to get to Lake City over Cinnamon Pass due to rain and fatigue. We talked a bit about the bikes and gear before letting them go find a hotel for the night.
Kim and I wandered a bit more around the town before huffing, puffing and staggering up the hillside to the "Christ of the Mines" statue overlooking the town. The spot seemed like a good place to pray for a miracle of instant weight loss, instant getting-in-shape and instant adjustment to the almost 10,000' elevation so that I could breathe, but alas no miracle occurred. Instead we headed downhill when the rains began to spatter us and looked for protection and sustenance within the Brown Bear Cafe, a hot blob of peach cobbler with ice cream and coffee seeming fairly miraculous at the time. Our plan had been to hit both Silverton and then Ouray that day, but we enjoyed the time rambling around Silverton and decided to go for Ouray the next day instead to chill in the hot springs.
It was beginning to get late, but I suggested we ride out towards the pass roads from Silverton until we felt the need to turn around before dark. The rain felt good as we rode out into the canyons and up to the basin.
Stops here and there filled the time and Kim did very well as the road narrowed and roughened, climbing in elevation toward the approaches for Cinnamon and Engineer. As the light faded, multiple UTV's with poncho clad tourists made their way past us, their blue-tinged LED headlights warning us of their approach far away.
Kimberly, aka “The Iron Butterfly”
Joseph, aka “LoneStar”
As it darkened, we turned around and made our way back down for Silverton and the ride back to our campsite near Durango. Tucking in behind a speeding truck for seeming protection from deer on the roadways, we were back to our site just as dark rolled in.
