Every Moment a "Kodak Moment" at 11,000 Feet

US 50 (I-70) near Green River, UT

Salina, UT

Stung by my observations regarding his obsessive riding-before-daylight behavior, Old Danny Boy cooled his jets this morning. We didn’t roll ‘til dawn’s early light. Or was it the passing thunderstorm that gave him pause. He even put on his rain gear BEFORE he got wet. I’m thinking the guy is starting to pay attention to what I’ve been telling him. Maybe he had to see it in print.

After a nice forty-mile ride in the rain, we arrived at the Rocky Mountain’s foothills. They quickly became the real deal. The rain stopped but ODB was glad to leave his raingear on for warmth. The thermo was stuck on 62 degrees. Climbing elevation negated the sun’s warming power.

At our first fuel stop, ODB called Al the Fisherman in Eugene, Oregon and sang him the Happy Birthday Song. AtF is 74 today. He’s a good friend of mine and is like a brother to ODB.

A few more miles down the road we started ascending Monarch Pass. Things did not look good. A few miles up, and I mean UP, the road disappeared into the massive black cloud that obscured any view of the mountain. He had his raingear on already, but it was getting colder and his gloves were wet from the morning rain. It was time to stop and change into warmer clothes.

Here’s the thing about mo-cy riding. You are outside. When conditions are stable, even if they’re bad, you dress once and go. When conditions are variable, changing stops are needed. Hence, an underpass becomes the riders changing room. With no underpass available today, ODB found a safe place to pull over out in the open.

Bear with me now, please. If I can do it, you can too. Okay, his rain pants and jacket come off. Heavy over pants go on over his jeans. A thick leather jacket goes on over the liner, which he already had on under the raingear. The rain pants go back on over the over pants. The rain jacket goes back on over the leather jacket. Don’t forget to thread the wires for the heated gloves down the sleeves of the rain jacket. Get the gloves plugged in to the wiring harness, and the harness plugged into the mo-cy. There. He’s good to go. And we’re off.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention all this happens at 8000-something feet. After bending over to get the stirrups of his rain pants situated under his shoes, he stood up and darn near passed out from the lack of oxygen.

So, what do you think happens immediately after putting on three pair of pants?

Yup. He has to go.

“Are you kidding me? You need to go?”

“I know. I just went, too. It’s crazy. Maybe if I just ignore it, it will go away.”

“Right.

We head up the road and into the dark cloud. It doesn’t rain, but it is cold enough to make him glad he went to all the trouble of getting into his heated gloves and warm clothes.

“Okay, I gotta go. I’m pulling over.”

“Right.”

"No. No. I can make it. We'll just keep going. It's probably a false alarm."

"Right."

A few miles later, we stop.

While he heads off to do his business, I calculate just how many fastening devises he’s going to have to undo and redo to accomplish this feat. Elastic waistband on rain pants; a Velcro-strip buckle, two snaps, and a zipper on the over pants; a belt buckle, a button, and zipper on jeans; and that gets him down to his underwear.

Up we go through the clouds. The altimeter reads 10,000 feet and we’re still climbing. On our way east we topped out at 11,111 feet on the 550. Today, we crest Monarch Pass at 11,312. This point is also the continental divide. On the Pacific side we find nothing but azure-blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. Unbelievable.

Before long we’ve stopped again. It’s pushing 80 degrees now and ODB is eager to get out of all those clothes. It takes another good while to get everything put away.

We saw hundreds of bikers today, all headed east. We presumed that most of them were headed for the Sturgis, SD motorcycle rally. Several times while we stopped for fuel people asked if we were headed for Sturgis.

“Nope. We’re headed home to Oregon.”

I could hear a note of relief in ODB’s voice when he said it. We’ve been on the road four weeks today.

The word for the day was “Wow!” What with Colorado’s Rocky Mountains and Utah’s amazing geology, every moment was a “Kodak moment.”

An intersection of note today – where the 550 begins in Montrose, CO. We were headed southbound here on Friday, July 6.

Another factoid: My trip odometer passed the 10,000-mile mark today.

Tomorrow we go deep into “The Loneliest Road in America.” There is one place where it’s153 miles between gas stations. I hold five gallons. If Mr. Lead Fist takes it easy, I’ll give him 40 MPG.

The odds of him taking it easy on this lonely stretch of desolation?

Not good. Not good at all.

(Google Map Update)