This story is great. Just from reading it I am dying to get out that way! My aunt and uncle run a tractor store right on I-25 in Loveland, so maybe I can go visit them next summer.

 

You should! There is an almost unlimited supply of beautiful road in the area. A lot more than you could cover in one vacation.

Steve

 

Steve,

Great story... looking forward to the next installment. Living in the Colorado foothills, I consider my self lucky as I get to ride the rocky mountains on a daily basis. Thanks for the photos.

 

Day 3 August 7, 2005


After two 500 mile days on the bike, day 3 would be different. I woke up at 5:00 a.m. as usual, and while everyone else slept I quietly backed my bike out of the garage, fired it up and rode off to greet the dawn. Ever since I was a kid on the farm, watching the sunrise has been one of my favorite things to do. I headed east from Loveland out into the Colorado farm country where I had spent many years raising crops and raising hell. I left Colorado 20 years ago searching for a better life, and while I’ve made a good living, I’ve never found a better life than the one I had growing things in the good earth. Riding past the fields of corn, barley, alfalfa, and sunflowers, I was greeted by the dawn. The suns first golden rays touched the tips of the Rocky Mountains behind me, then quickly worked down through the foothills and into the valley.
Energized by the sunrise, I went riding through the farmlands for about an hour, enjoying the sights and smells, horses and cows grazing in green dew covered pastures and the sweet aroma of the alfalfa fields.
With my Sunday morning service complete, I headed back to Marc’s house to get the grime from Days 1 and 2 off the bike.

After letting it cool down I washed and polished the Ultra ‘til she was gleaming. Plans for the day included a visit to Thunder Mountain Harley Davidson to pick up a T-shirt, lunch with my Aunt and cousins, followed by some riding in the foothills where I rode as a young man.
With the Ultra all spit shined and ready to smash more bugs, Marc and I hopped on our bikes. Tamara and Sandy took the car, so that after lunch Marc and I could take Devon and Erin (my cousins) for a ride while they went to the store for the weeks provisions. A 10 minute ride brought us all to I-25 then North to Thunder Mountain Harley. It’s a very nice facility, and we spent some time looking over the bikes and clothing. I tried once again (unsuccessfully) to replace my melted intercom cord even though Marc and I had repaired the damaged one back to usable condition. We picked out some t-shirts and hit the road again.
We rode North to Fort Collins, CO (Sandy’s and my hometown) and to a sandwich shop called Avogadro’s Number. Avogadro’s opened in the ‘70’s adjacent to the campus of Colorado State University as a little hippie sandwich shop. The walls were painted with brightly colored murals and macramé hung everywhere from the ceiling, breaking up the room and giving it a cozy atmosphere. The little sandwich shop had expanded into a full on restaurant and bar, complete with outdoor patio since my last visit nearly 20 years ago. I had to smile at the thought of hippies turned capitalists as I looked around the place, and wondered if the owners had become Republicans as well. We found my family out on the patio and we all sat down for a nice lunch and a nicer visit.

Afterwards, it was time to get back to the purpose of the whole trip; putting miles on the scoot. Devon and Erin had already decided on the rider pairings, Devon (a Sturgis veteran and cultural contributor to Glencoes’ titty alley) would ride with Marc, while Erin would ride with me.

Marc and Devon


Erin and I

Erin’s boyfriend Will seemed a little unsettled so I reassured him I would take good care of her. Erin is several years younger than I am, and I had given her a ride on my motorcycle when she was about 10 years old. A move that helped make her a bike lover, and damn near got me an *** whipping from my Grandpa. We headed west on Mulberry, through City Park to Taft Hill Rd then south to Horsetooth Rd. Horsetooth is the name of a local mountain that loo

 

What a great way to start the morning... a cup of coffee and a good story. Thanks for the time you've put into this. I'm sure you'll appreciate it as much as we do, once you're done.

 

Oh thank you, thank you, thank you for your wonderful tales of adventure. I am oh so anxiously awaiting chapter three.

 

More goodness here, thanks, Steve!

Mac

 

Grand illustrated narrative of your trip to Sturgis. I am eagerly, if impatiently, awaiting the next installment.

 

Tap, tap, tap, tap...and etc.

 

DITTO!! Steve, some of us have to live vicariously through you and it's not nice to make us wait. I do appreciate all the time you're putting into this and glad you have such a great story to tell. Until the next installment, huh?