I was a bit miffed to discover that I'd left Texas without canceling the temporary vehicle import permit for my motorcycle from my last trip to the village of Real De Catorce in Mexico. My plans to visit my riding buddy “MotoHank” south of San Antonio and return the permit at Laredo didn't happen... in the rush to leave for this trip it was forgotten. It was due in August, about the time we hoped to be in Jasper, Canada so it was a hell of a lot closer to head back from Colorado than Canada.
We did a marathon 2 day run to the Mexican border to deal with it, initially planning to cancel it in Juarez, however when I found out the Aduana was 30 kilometers in, I got cold feet. A U.S. Border Patrol officer told me there was also an Aduana at the Santa Teresa crossing about 25 miles away in New Mexico, and though that Aduana wasn’t listed anywhere on the internet, We headed that direction. Indeed there was one there and after about 30 minutes crossing over, canceling and coming back into the US, it was done. What a pain, but after, we made it back up to the Gunnison region. From Ouray, we visited the Black Canyon and then headed north over Grand Mesa, driven away from camping near the lakes by huge mosquito swarms, instead staying overnight in Collbran during a fierce rain storm. Our goal was Steamboat Springs for the 4th of July parade and fireworks.
I'd been blessed to live in “The Boat” for a while and really enjoyed the time there. The small town a fantastic fireworks show, and I figured it would be fun to see the place again.
We got a late start, taking I-70 for Wolcott, the canyon from Glenwood Springs to Eagle just an amazing ride along the river, duly enjoyed by The Butterfly, and then Highway 131 north. The day was late, and we rode in spitting rain, racing to beat the sunset and find a place to camp for the night near Steamboat. A fellow adventure motorcyclist, Rob, who’d followed some of my rides online, had foolishly asked me to swing by sometime, so I shot him a message. By the time we got out of the mountains and had cell service again in Steamboat, he'd responded and offered to let us stay a day.
We decided to take advantage of the offer since it was late and we were tired, plus the thought of trying to find dispersed camping as dark was falling wasn't appealing. Rob and his wife Carol were absolutely awesome, opening their home to us and their garage for the bikes. I'd communicated with Rob on the ADVrider.com website and finally bumped into him at the Horizons Unlimited rally in Grant, Colorado a couple of years earlier. We stayed up way too late talking, and were groggy the next morning for the 4th of July parade, but it was entertaining despite the massive crowds and heat.
We eventually peeled away and sought cool breezes on the bikes, riding 20 Mile Road to Oak Creek, and then south for the local parade in the little town of Yampa. It was a small town hoot and we enjoyed it. From Yampa we rode back north to the forest roads of Buffalo Pass to find a campsite for the next day.
Amazingly, in the overrun town of Steamboat we found parking space for the bikes in front of our breakfast cafe, only to find out why - it was the “bird poop from hell” tree, covering our bikes and gear as we ate.
Main Street Parade In Steamboat
"The Band" in Yampa
Post Parade Partaking
One of my favorite places to eat in Steamboat was the Sweet Pea Cafe, sitting right on the Yampa River. The bacon and brie sandwich is to die for.
Rob had invited us to watch the evening fireworks with a group of his riding buddies - “Timboat,” “Tiger Jimmy”, and Ron - from the roof of Tiger Jimmy's house. Pink Floyd's Pulse album was an appropriate musical backdrop for the fantastic fireworks, preceded by grilled flora and fauna on the back deck, laced with laughter and BS.
The next day we spotted a couple of GS's camped further up on the pass and stopped to chat. One rider was from Connecticut on a 1200GSA, and they had been riding the Colorado Backcountry Discovery Route when his friend dropped his bike and smashed a side case. He was in the process of beating it back into shape when we said goodbye and continued up the mountain a bit further. We made our campsite on Buffalo Pass at about 9000' and managed to just beat a big, windy rainstorm getting the tent set up and staked out.
The site offered a great view of the valley below, as well as sunsets that were so unreal the photos look fake. Evenings were cool and we slept like babes.
It was a day or two later, as we rode down for town, that Kim had her "up close and personal" moose event. We were riding down the forest service road about 30 mph, Kim in front a few yards ahead when suddenly a huge, dark brown blur exploded from the roadside brush to her left, about 10 feet or so ahead and running full speed. The big blur was a moose, who came out at a slight angle but almost parallel with her bike and passed right in front of her fender, galloping very fast down the road ahead before disappearing around the next switchback. We were both stunned at the size and sight, and I finally got the words out to “stop!”
Kim was shaking from the suddenness, proximity and close call. After a minute or two I proceeded down a ways, peering around the corners to see if the moose had gone on, or was now pissed and waiting in the middle of the road. Moose are known to be foul tempered and territorial, sometimes challenging cars on the roadways. Kim followed me down, about 75 yards behind, until we cleared the area and then had a laugh about it. It was a very cool experience to see such a big moose so close, running just a few feet ahead.
This was the second "moose event" of our trip, the first coming at our campsite 25 miles north of Pagosa Springs, again at 9000' in an aspen grove. We'd arrived late in the day and had begun setting up camp when I saw a moose watching us from the trees about 100 yards away. I called Kim over to see him and then he began trotting downwards toward our area. As he got to within about 50', he stopped dead in his tracks, then turned directly toward us. At that point he began to walk quickly straight at us and I told Kim to get ready to run for cover. Instinctively she yelled and clapped her hands, startling the guy, who stopped then moved behind bushes next to him. We were concerned and watched the bushes uneasily for a long time. I had just hung a bear bag near where he was, and needed to add some food to it but we never saw him leave the brush so I waited until well after dark to head back over. We spent the evening looking over our shoulders.
At our earlier campsite north of Pagosa Springs...
But back to Steamboat... the "Yampa Valley Curse", the original by an Indian chief now sanitized a bit for tourists, states that once you come to the valley you will never leave. It seemed to be working as we stayed longer than expected, continuing to bump into folks I'd known and finding things to do and roads to explore.
My GSA had come with TKC 70's on it from the previous owner and I'd done my best to wear them out quickly so I could get some Heidenau's laced on. Rob offered to let me ship some in and put them on with his tire changer, but I found some in stock at Grand Junction BMW and they were able to squeeze us in for a service and set of tires in a couple of days.
Rob's wife Carol is a fantastic artist and they invited us to attend the sunset happy hour on the ski mountain our last night in the Boat. Carol paints alongside the live music stage, inspired by the music and atmosphere. It was a great night and we caught a beautiful sunset before the evening ride down on the gondola.
The next morning after packing up our camp and heading off the mountain for Grand Junction, I spotted a moose and calf in the trees along the roadway down. We stopped and found some gaps in the trees where Kim grabbed a few shots.
Stupid autofocus grrrrrrr!!!
From Steamboat we rode west for Craig, Maybell and Highway 57 south towards Meeker. Rob had suggested 57 and it turned out to be a really nice ride south. By the time we hit the Meeker vicinity we were starving and for some reason a bowl of chili sounded great. We found the Meeker Cafe on the old square and chili wasn't on the menu, but the homemade meatball soup was a great substitute. In fact, it was so good we ordered again. Our waitress was from Guadalajara and excited to hear that we were planning to ride Mexico. After talking with her a while we geared up in the fading light.
Yum!
Scenes from a cafe...
The road south was bathed in the setting sun, and fiery pink clouds above the cliffs were a perfect ending to the day as we found a motel in Grand Junction for the evening.