Bob and Cheryl - Storm Chasers Trip West
#87
01-06-2014 | 03:28 PM
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From: PNW
Day 6 -
It was dark. The avalanche charges echoed off the mountains and reverberated in my ears. Laying in the warm bed I was dimly aware of the sounds that always signaled an awesome day of skiing. It must have snowed a LOT last night. I guess we'll go skiing instead of riding. Wait. What? Skiing?
The 2 worlds that collided in my head slowly gave way to more consciousness as I realized that skiing and riding motorcycles usually aren't in an either/or scenario. The fog lifted and I remembered that it was summer. The avalanche charges were now lighting up the room, but they weren't avalanche charges at all. Nope. That was thunder and lightning. That, most definitely, does not make for an awesome day under the present circumstances.
I walked to window and parted the curtains. It was 7 or so in the morning and it was, as we used to say in Arkansas, a real toad strangler outside. Sheets of rain poured down from the grey sky. Damn.
Cheryl stirred as I tossed on some clothes. "Is it raining?" She didn't suffer from morning disorientation apparently and knew exactly where we were and what was happening. While I made some coffee she looked outside. We had one of those wordless conversations. The topic was "So now what?" Riding was not an attractive option with the rain coming down hard. And, rain down here could very well be snow up on the pass. The idea of walking around Aspen all day was only slightly more attractive. I checked the weather and it looked like it would be spotty all day. Well, I guess walking Aspen it was going to be.
The nice guy at the front desk cheerfully handed us 2 umbrellas upon request. We decided to just take a stroll. Maybe do some shopping. Here's my "I'm so happy it's raining" stance.
I'm just going to cut to the chase and reveal that Aspen is great in season. September 16th is not "in season". Many stores are closed and the other stores have an apathy that yields a less than thrilling day. And lets talk money. Our initial "anniversary" plan was to find something cool for each other in Santa Fe or Aspen. Santa Fe was pretty expensive so we didn't buy anything there. Aspen was worse. Much much worse. And not the kind of worse that makes you feel under privileged. More the kind of worse that makes you think - Why the hell would I buy that here when I could buy it back home for pennies on the dollar? So we walked around and deprived Aspen of the hard earned green in our wallets. That said, the bar at Little Annie's did get some of our coin. A group of off road riders took up half the bar. They were covered in mud and obviously on the tail end of a great day of riding. My kind of guys. I was tempted to ask where they had been riding, but figured Cheryl would feel left out so I bit my tongue.
I had mentioned earlier that Aspen didn't strike me as a biker friendly town. But, there were a ton of dirt bikes zipping around and Aspen has dedicated, free, parking spots for motorcycles only. So thumbs up to Aspen for that.
So, I'll end day 6 now, because there is no sense in you being as bored as we were. Yeah, Aspen is nice. But, walking around anywhere in the rain is kind of a drag. We did a lot of eating and drinking, so it wasn't a total loss.
Next - Day 7 and the ride home-ish.
It was dark. The avalanche charges echoed off the mountains and reverberated in my ears. Laying in the warm bed I was dimly aware of the sounds that always signaled an awesome day of skiing. It must have snowed a LOT last night. I guess we'll go skiing instead of riding. Wait. What? Skiing?
The 2 worlds that collided in my head slowly gave way to more consciousness as I realized that skiing and riding motorcycles usually aren't in an either/or scenario. The fog lifted and I remembered that it was summer. The avalanche charges were now lighting up the room, but they weren't avalanche charges at all. Nope. That was thunder and lightning. That, most definitely, does not make for an awesome day under the present circumstances.
I walked to window and parted the curtains. It was 7 or so in the morning and it was, as we used to say in Arkansas, a real toad strangler outside. Sheets of rain poured down from the grey sky. Damn.
Cheryl stirred as I tossed on some clothes. "Is it raining?" She didn't suffer from morning disorientation apparently and knew exactly where we were and what was happening. While I made some coffee she looked outside. We had one of those wordless conversations. The topic was "So now what?" Riding was not an attractive option with the rain coming down hard. And, rain down here could very well be snow up on the pass. The idea of walking around Aspen all day was only slightly more attractive. I checked the weather and it looked like it would be spotty all day. Well, I guess walking Aspen it was going to be.
The nice guy at the front desk cheerfully handed us 2 umbrellas upon request. We decided to just take a stroll. Maybe do some shopping. Here's my "I'm so happy it's raining" stance.
I'm just going to cut to the chase and reveal that Aspen is great in season. September 16th is not "in season". Many stores are closed and the other stores have an apathy that yields a less than thrilling day. And lets talk money. Our initial "anniversary" plan was to find something cool for each other in Santa Fe or Aspen. Santa Fe was pretty expensive so we didn't buy anything there. Aspen was worse. Much much worse. And not the kind of worse that makes you feel under privileged. More the kind of worse that makes you think - Why the hell would I buy that here when I could buy it back home for pennies on the dollar? So we walked around and deprived Aspen of the hard earned green in our wallets. That said, the bar at Little Annie's did get some of our coin. A group of off road riders took up half the bar. They were covered in mud and obviously on the tail end of a great day of riding. My kind of guys. I was tempted to ask where they had been riding, but figured Cheryl would feel left out so I bit my tongue.
I had mentioned earlier that Aspen didn't strike me as a biker friendly town. But, there were a ton of dirt bikes zipping around and Aspen has dedicated, free, parking spots for motorcycles only. So thumbs up to Aspen for that.
So, I'll end day 6 now, because there is no sense in you being as bored as we were. Yeah, Aspen is nice. But, walking around anywhere in the rain is kind of a drag. We did a lot of eating and drinking, so it wasn't a total loss.
Next - Day 7 and the ride home-ish.
#89
01-06-2014 | 06:22 PM
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Seasoned HDF Member
Joined: Apr 2009
Posts: 42,769
Likes: 26,296
From: PNW
Day 7 -
We set the alarm for 7 AM. Not that we wanted to head out all that early. We just felt like getting the most out of our last day. It started off with a really nice hearty breakfast at the diner just down from the condo and some great coffee out on the balcony. We had to strategically pack our gear once again to make sure all the heavy stuff was down low, the side liner bags weren't too bulky to fit in the saddlebags, and the dirty stuff was insulated from the clean stuff - which gets harder as the trip wears on.
After packing we wanted to check out a few more stores that we missed. Cheryl found a resale shop nearby to check out. We figured the cast offs of a bunch of rich folks might be pretty neat. We were walking to the shop and some tall guy was walking towards us. I could sense Cheryl tensing up and he was doing a pretty good job of ogling her. I'm somewhat used to it, especially when Cheryl is rocking the chaps and pigtail thing like she was at the time. As Ron Burgundy would say - When your girlfriend has an *** like the North Star, don't be surprised when wise men follow.
Of course that makes little to zero sense, but I find it funny. He briefly turned his gaze to me and passed with what I took as an appreciative nod. "Oh my God! - Do you know who that was?" Cheryl exclaimed. "I'm thinking he's the local pervert." I responded. Non-plussed she said "That's David Foster! He's..blah blah blah something about Barbara Streisand, blah blah blah, something composer, blah blah, Housewives of Beverly Hills....." I'm not sure if my eyes literally glazed over, giving me a kind of Walking Dead effect, but it felt that way. She knows I could so care less about celebrity or anything related. But, none the less she will tell me every nuance of David Foster's life despite my aggressive attempts at looking disinterested.
Fortunately her quest to educate me on the truly important things in life was interrupted by something far more important. Shoes. More specifically, Christian Louboutin shoes. If you know anything about Chery, by now you know she is a footwear addict. The more expensive the better. Christain Louboutin shoes are very expensive. They were in the store window on display and they had a price tag of $300. That may seem like a lot of money for used shoes. But, I know from listening to Cheryl that Christain Louboutin shoes cost about a grand and up new. These looked brand new. My guess is some hoity toity Aspen socialite bought them and never wore them. I figured I would be getting off easy so I encouraged her to try them on. No luck - just a hair too small. But, there seemed to be a ton of other stuff she liked. She picked up a purse and quickly set it back down. "You don't like it?" "I love it" she said. "But it probably costs a fortune. It was some brand name I can't remember. There was no price tag so, not being shy, I asked. Eight hundred dollars. 'You have got to be sh*tting me?" I said (internally). Externally I said "Ok-thanks" and set if back quickly as if it carried the plague.
We spent a little more time there. Disappointingly, she never did find that right thing. But, she was okay with it. We walked around a bit and eventually made our way back to the condo to head out. We commandeered another luggage trolley, emptied the condo of our contents, and headed down to the parking garage. We shared the elevator with two lovely (say it with a British accent) ladies who it was my guess, traveled together as life mates. Not judging. They happened to be going the same direction a us and were flabbergasted that all that luggage was going to be put onto the bike. They were truly awestruck by the whole concept an asked if they could watch us load the bike and leave. They took out cameras to chronical the entire process. It was actually pretty cute. The one said to the other that they should buy a "motorbike" with a sidecar and tour "the Americas". They had many, many questions and when we fired up the bike they clapped. Now these are my kind of people. One of them ran up the parking ramp because she wanted to get a picture of us emerging from the structure. We rolled on the throttle and headed up, waving at the very enthusiastic British lady and her camera, clicking away. We felt like we were in a one bike parade.
Th day was crisp and clear as we navigated out of Aspen and towards Independence Pass. It was about 60 "down low" so we put on the heated gear, knowing it would get much cooler on the way up. Naturally, the first vehicle we encountered was, you guessed it -
a pick up truck. I had hoped we would have less traffic mid morning and on a week day. Fortunately, this pick up driver was cool and used a pull out to let us by. We always give polite folks like that a big wave as we pass by. Working our way up the pass it grew cooler as expected and the rain we had down low had indeed, been snow up high -
The ride up was glorious. No traffic, a stellar road.... -
and breath taking beauty all around us -
Higher and higher we climbed, taking it all in. There was no traffic to speak of and the few vehicles we did encounter, pulled over to let us by. Cheryl worked the heated gear the way a stripper works the brass pole. Okay..maybe not quite like that,. But you get the idea.
Before long we made it to what has got to be one of the most photographed spots anywhere -
We set the alarm for 7 AM. Not that we wanted to head out all that early. We just felt like getting the most out of our last day. It started off with a really nice hearty breakfast at the diner just down from the condo and some great coffee out on the balcony. We had to strategically pack our gear once again to make sure all the heavy stuff was down low, the side liner bags weren't too bulky to fit in the saddlebags, and the dirty stuff was insulated from the clean stuff - which gets harder as the trip wears on.
After packing we wanted to check out a few more stores that we missed. Cheryl found a resale shop nearby to check out. We figured the cast offs of a bunch of rich folks might be pretty neat. We were walking to the shop and some tall guy was walking towards us. I could sense Cheryl tensing up and he was doing a pretty good job of ogling her. I'm somewhat used to it, especially when Cheryl is rocking the chaps and pigtail thing like she was at the time. As Ron Burgundy would say - When your girlfriend has an *** like the North Star, don't be surprised when wise men follow.
Of course that makes little to zero sense, but I find it funny. He briefly turned his gaze to me and passed with what I took as an appreciative nod. "Oh my God! - Do you know who that was?" Cheryl exclaimed. "I'm thinking he's the local pervert." I responded. Non-plussed she said "That's David Foster! He's..blah blah blah something about Barbara Streisand, blah blah blah, something composer, blah blah, Housewives of Beverly Hills....." I'm not sure if my eyes literally glazed over, giving me a kind of Walking Dead effect, but it felt that way. She knows I could so care less about celebrity or anything related. But, none the less she will tell me every nuance of David Foster's life despite my aggressive attempts at looking disinterested. Fortunately her quest to educate me on the truly important things in life was interrupted by something far more important. Shoes. More specifically, Christian Louboutin shoes. If you know anything about Chery, by now you know she is a footwear addict. The more expensive the better. Christain Louboutin shoes are very expensive. They were in the store window on display and they had a price tag of $300. That may seem like a lot of money for used shoes. But, I know from listening to Cheryl that Christain Louboutin shoes cost about a grand and up new. These looked brand new. My guess is some hoity toity Aspen socialite bought them and never wore them. I figured I would be getting off easy so I encouraged her to try them on. No luck - just a hair too small. But, there seemed to be a ton of other stuff she liked. She picked up a purse and quickly set it back down. "You don't like it?" "I love it" she said. "But it probably costs a fortune. It was some brand name I can't remember. There was no price tag so, not being shy, I asked. Eight hundred dollars. 'You have got to be sh*tting me?" I said (internally). Externally I said "Ok-thanks" and set if back quickly as if it carried the plague.
We spent a little more time there. Disappointingly, she never did find that right thing. But, she was okay with it. We walked around a bit and eventually made our way back to the condo to head out. We commandeered another luggage trolley, emptied the condo of our contents, and headed down to the parking garage. We shared the elevator with two lovely (say it with a British accent) ladies who it was my guess, traveled together as life mates. Not judging. They happened to be going the same direction a us and were flabbergasted that all that luggage was going to be put onto the bike. They were truly awestruck by the whole concept an asked if they could watch us load the bike and leave. They took out cameras to chronical the entire process. It was actually pretty cute. The one said to the other that they should buy a "motorbike" with a sidecar and tour "the Americas". They had many, many questions and when we fired up the bike they clapped. Now these are my kind of people. One of them ran up the parking ramp because she wanted to get a picture of us emerging from the structure. We rolled on the throttle and headed up, waving at the very enthusiastic British lady and her camera, clicking away. We felt like we were in a one bike parade.
Th day was crisp and clear as we navigated out of Aspen and towards Independence Pass. It was about 60 "down low" so we put on the heated gear, knowing it would get much cooler on the way up. Naturally, the first vehicle we encountered was, you guessed it -
a pick up truck. I had hoped we would have less traffic mid morning and on a week day. Fortunately, this pick up driver was cool and used a pull out to let us by. We always give polite folks like that a big wave as we pass by. Working our way up the pass it grew cooler as expected and the rain we had down low had indeed, been snow up high -
The ride up was glorious. No traffic, a stellar road.... -
and breath taking beauty all around us -
Higher and higher we climbed, taking it all in. There was no traffic to speak of and the few vehicles we did encounter, pulled over to let us by. Cheryl worked the heated gear the way a stripper works the brass pole. Okay..maybe not quite like that,. But you get the idea.
Before long we made it to what has got to be one of the most photographed spots anywhere -
Last edited by nevada72; 01-06-2014 at 06:26 PM.
