Boulder was awesome; it was great to see Ross and meet his roomate Max, but the trip out to Grand Junction...was magical.
I'm sitting outside a piano and wine bar, listening to a jazz classical guitarist, but in my mind, I'm still barreling through the rockies.
119 runs West from Boulder, ip through the flat irons and tge runs south west, peak to peak, through the rockies. Switchbacks, rapid altitude changes, fast sweepers; its the kind of road I've dreamed about ever since deciding to ride a motorcycle.
Knowing I'm not exactly a Moto GP rider, and I'm lugging at least 70 lbs os gear with me, I started slowly. I'd take 25 mph curves at a comfy 30, breaking early and keeping a steady throttle. As I started getting into the groove, I started pushing more, alittle bit at a time. 35 mph curves started being taken at 40, 45, 50. I started hanging off the bike more confidently to lessen my lean angle. More than a few times a watched a bike in front of me take a turn at more than twice my speed, but seeing as I was all kitted up, I knew better than to try an chase an MV Agusta F4, or Triumph Street Triple 675. Bother if which I saw at least three of. Boulder is well heeled, after all.
While the 119 was technical and a bit scary, the ride down the rockies was completely exhilerating. Glenn Canyon, maybe 80 miles befoore Grand Junction, is a two lane raised hightway, maybe 40 feet above a roaring river, and boxed in on all sides by huge, sheer rock canyon cliffs. Traffic was clear, and 55 mph sweepers gradually became 80 mph sweepers. The road wpuld twist back and forth, them straighten out, shooting you directly at a mountainside, and through a tube-shaped tunnel.
Amazing. I can only hope LA canyons are as fun.