El Matador

That ride up and down 550 was amazing. There is a set of curves coming into Ouray that are some of the most glorious turns I have ever ridden. My version of heaven includes those curves attached to the dragon and riding them all day long. My little solo adventure took me about a half hour. I had not really ridden the S2R1K without a pillion, so everything was amplified. The bike was amazing, it felt so good. I wasn’t going insanely fast, just a comfortable pace, but damn that bike is fun, even with the 30% power loss up at the mountains. Sadly, I had to head back because it was going dark, fast. I headed back into town and we went out for dinner at a small english pub and good conversation with people from all over the country that came to attend the event.

We awoke in the morning better rested than we had been in over a week. If you’ve never been to Ouray it’ll be hard for you to understand the utter epic-ness of the place. It truly is as though god had reached down from the skies, pointed his finger at it and commanded: “Thou Shalt Be Awesome”. Truly.

The mornings are incredibly cold. In August, the temperature at 9 in the morning was around 50 degrees. That is, until the sun rises over the mountain. When this happens, you feel every single ray of light hit you and warm your body. It is an almost religious experience.  While I was off having an epiphany, the rest of the crew got suited up and left for the gas station. We quickly did the same and found that the rest of the group had already left. All of them except for a couple of stragglers.

So the four of us it was and we took a very nice, calmed ride through some spectacular scenery. The only problem was that I had been riding a very nice calmed pace on a new bike for over a week, so I was itching to really let her out. Nevertheless, I wasn’t about to leave them behind, especially not with DesmoLu riding with them as well. (Whenever I ride with her, I go into protective mode.) So we continued this ride through some awesome canyons and twisties for a couple of hours, planning to intercept the main group at their stop.

At one point we got on a road where we wouldn’t have to turn off from for about 50 miles. This road was like riding through the grand canyon with the most inviting sweepers I have ever been on. I couldn’t resist. I took off and behind me Lucrece followed. Due to some sprocketing errors, one of the bikes was limited to about 85 mph, so they started falling behind a bit. The road was glorious, but I kept it in check for Desmolu. I was taking the curves at a respectable pace, which was hard enough; the scenery was so beautiful and otherwordly that it was hard not to stare at the lines of the canyon all and run off the road.

We pressed on and about 10 minutes later we stumbled upon the rest of the group in Gateway having lunch. We stopped and had some well deserved refreshments as well.

On the way back we got separated again, a part of the group went to do another ride and the other was going back to Ouray. I really wanted to ride with some of the people going back to Ouray so we headed the way we came. The group was taking a nice leisurely pace when all of a sudden a rider blows past us. Another follows suit. My right wrist twitches in anticipation. I tell it to calm down. I haven’t finished trying to tell myself that I don’t need to go faster when my friend takes off after them. Damn. I look back and motion Lu to follow the leader. I give in to the Dark side. Those  sweepers on the way over double in speed on the way back. I’m having to pin the throttle completely to keep up with my friend’s 1098s. This was the first time that I really felt the effects of the altitude on the horsepower; but I didn’t care I was having a blast. That back to Ouray was the most fun I’d had since the dragon. When we finally stopped I couldn’t wipe the  grin off my face. All too quickly we reached Ouray, but we were consoled by promises of hot tubs and cigars with good friends.

Desmolu

We began our last night in Ouray the way we begin most great nights – with some delicious local brew and a Cuban. The hot springs was a bit crowded with families and kids so we decided to invent a new rule for our hot tub – “Sorry, kids, but you have to be at least 16 or have your parents present. Those are the rules.” After some hot tubbing and gorging on bbq, the group gathers around the fire to share stories. Although Matador and I have hung out with the NM people a few times, this was our first time meeting the Colorado folk and we were, as is so often the case when meeting people from the board, amazed at how close we felt to the group after only a day’s ride.

The Colorado people had decided to make the awesome move to give t-shirt awards out for “special” people. Matador and I were then “forced” to tell our story, the one we have told throughout these pages, to everyone sitting around the fire. It was story time at camp all over again. Except with more cursing…and with motorcycles…and cops. Ok, so slightly different from your average campfire story. Always delighted to have an audience, we told our story in detail to the unruly crowd that both mocked us and showed true appreciation. Yes, we even told the part about the pads. At the end, we were presented with two t-shirts marked with the “Farthest Traveled” award. Someday, these will hang on the walls of our garage!

After the t-shirts were awarded, Kingbaby followed up with a stack of blue prize ribbons. The group decided to award us with a “Best Efforts” ribbon. Many of the ribbons given out were sincere, and many were not, including a few people who may have woken up to find “I’m Special” ribbons fixed to their triple clamps…

Shortly after midnight the hotel turned off our fire and it looked like we were being sent to our rooms for the night. We said goodnight and set off to dream of the next day’s roads. Unfortunately, those roads were not to be. Just before bed, Swampduc received a phone call that would change our plans. Due to this unexpected unfolding of events, we decided it would be best to leave Ouray and return home first thing in the morning.

Here are the bikes, loaded up and looking sad: