Click for Panorama
Click for Panorama
If you just want the short and true story along with photos check out this link but if you want the severely one-sided, butchered version of events please read on.
Keith and I had been talking about a trip to CO for several months but a variety of things kept coming up that prevented us from setting a firm location and date. Finally everything came together at the last minute and I made an email plea to Rick Ramsey to see if he was available to lead a couple of flatland spodes around in the Taylor Park area. To my amazement he agreed and I'm sure he has regretted his decision ever since. So we made our arrangements, said goodbye to our bewildered spouses, and hit the road at about 11:00 pm Wed. We had a choice of two routes and being the older and wiser I used my lucid Hegelian logic to override Mapquest. ("Well shit, this line is bigger than that line" and "Hey, there's Royal Gorge! Let's check that out"). Being the owner of the haul vehicle does have its perks you know, and so we managed to click off the 15 hour drive in a mere 18 hours. We made the whole trip non-stop except for a one hour nap at a rest area somewhere in Kansas. Yes, I know, we shouldn't have even been in Kansas but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
We arrived at Taylor Park Trading Post around 5:00 pm and got our cabin keys. The cabins were not very luxurious but they were warm and had hot water showers and the beds slept great. Nothing else matters when you're there to ride. Next step after unloading our gear was to start the bikes and verify the jetting. We both set up our jetting at home but needed to make sure we didn't have any last minute problems. Both bikes started fine and ran great...for a moment. Then my bike died and would not restart. I changed spark plugs, I checked the fuel, I even had Keith pull the bike behind the truck and it simply would not start or even try to start. I was freaking out. Now normally when there is a mechanical problem I usually have *some* idea what's wrong. I may not always be right but I'm usually in the ballpark. But I was completely baffled this time. So I got to thinking about everything I had done to the bike and I was able to recall every single step I made except for one. So I immediately ran out to the bike and pulled off the seat and air filter and sure enough, there was a shop rag still stuffed into the carb throat just like I left it :) DOH! After that it ran great <g>.
Feeling good about life again we had supper at the Trading Post cafe. The Taylor Park area is nothing more than a small lake and the Taylor Park Trading Post. There are about 20 cabins of various sizes, a gift shop attached to a 7-11 kind of store and a restaurant. Everything is made out of logs. The cabins are rented mostly by hikers, dirtbikers and fishermen and hunters in the fall. At supper we talked with a guy who had ridden Timberline Trail that day. He said it took all day to go 25 miles and the trail ends with a creek crossing that is waist deep. It was cold and raining and we went to bed wondering just what the hell we'd gotten ourselves into.
The next morning we got up bright and early and met Rick, our guide and a fellow RMDer who has been riding in TP for over 20 years. We immediately hit it off and I think Rick was relieved that we at least came prepared to ride even though we didn't have a clue what we were doing or where we were going. After breakfast we rode across the highway and up into the woods and our ride was underway. We rode up into the hills and got some great views of the Taylor River basin all fogged in. Then we got onto the southern end of Timberline Trail and followed it down to Mirror Lake. There were lots of rocks and roots of course but there were also some nice loamy sections every now and then. Nothing overly difficult but it took some time to get used to how long the hills were. The trails would carve their way up a mountainside by using switchbacks and sometimes it was hard to negotiate the turns due to the steepness and all the rocks and roots that covered the trail. It also took a bit to get used to the decreased horsepower that resulted from the altitude.
We rode out on top of a high ridge and had a fantastic view of the valley down below and over the other side of the mountain we could see Mirror Lake just below us. We wound our way down past Mirror Lake and then rode down a dirt road to the town of Tincup. From there we rode up to Cumberland Pass and posed for photos at the top. We then worked our way off the mountain and down to the next little town of Pitkin. There we got fuel and met a fellow from Arkansas named Doug Silkwood who rides in the same area where we had the WUDI ride a few months ago. We chatted a bit and then we rode on to some more trails. We noticed later that his name was mentioned in the latest issue of Dirt Rider magazine about riding in the Ozarks.
From Pitkin we rode past some cool old mining areas on the way to the Fossil Ridge Trail. Fossil Ridge included one really awesome single track trail section that meandered through a dense aspen glade. Rick was great in sections like this. He'd tell us where to meet him and then he'd motion for us to go on around. He was worried that we wanted to ride faster but truth be told we couldn't go much faster than Rick. He always rode sitting down but he kept a great pace and he never slowed down or stopped. So Keith and I would ride ahead but we never waited for more than a few minutes and before long we'd hear Rick's little CRF230F come chugging up the trail.
So we followed Fossil Ridge for a while then gradually worked our way back to Pitkin where we had a late lunch and then we rode back toward camp. We now had our choice of several trails back home but we opted for the easier trails due to the fact that I was getting tired and it was starting to look like rain. The trails back led past some cool old mines and one still had this ancient steam engine sitting there amongst the wreckage. The trails also led past these incredible mountain meadows that were full of yellow wildflowers and valleys with trout streams and beaver ponds. The whole place looked like a postcard.
Back at camp we tried to get Rick to stay for supper but he declined and left for the evening. It was still daylight and the cafe would be open for another hour so we decided to go back to a little 2 mile section of single track that's visible across the highway from the Trading Post. We shredded that a couple of times to get the moto cleared from our veins before calling it a day. We rode a total of 109 miles although I'd say probably 50% of that was on jeep trails. We had a great meal at the Trading Post cafe and then we finished the day by drinking beers and watching the sunset by the campfire along with our lesbian friends from the cabin next door :) They were a couple from the Denver area who were there to go fishing, or so they said. But they had a great campfire going and there wasn't anything else to do so Keith and I sat there and talked with them for a couple of hours until it was time to go to bed.
The next day and the REAL trails lay ahead.
We got a fairly late start Saturday morning because the line at the breakfast buffet was very long so after breakfast Rick suggested that we haul our bikes to the Gunnison Spur trailhead a few miles away to save time, fuel and road wear on the bikes. While we were getting suited up we saw three groups go into the woods ahead of us, the first and second group looked pretty fast. Soon we were underway, crossing the bridge and beginning the steep and twisty climb to the ridge top. About two turns in Keith's bike died...he had neglected to turn the fuel off the night before, then when he started out this morning he inadvertently turned it OFF instead of on :) After getting that sorted out we took off again but then his bike was running really strange. Another look revealed that he also had failed to turn his choke off! So now we were REALLY underway and Keith was pissed off. We blasted on up the hill and soon overtook the last group that entered ahead of us. We passed them one by one until we came to the front of their group who was contemplating a broken radiator judging by the steam spewing from the side. We didn't stop since it wasn't far back to the trailhead and it was all downhill. So we rocked on and Keith really had a burr under his saddle now. He could smell the next group ahead and was picking them off one by one. It was a fun trail with lots of roots and rocks and pocked with braking and acceleration bumps. We used our XC technique and rode the edges and criss-crossed the trail a lot to avoid the worst of the obstacles. I rode along thinking how nice all these other riders were to move over for me but it wasn't until later that I found out that Keith was screaming at them and even bumping their rear wheel at times to get them to move out of his way! Thanks Keith :)
This trail section was a hoot the entire way with miles of wonderful single-track across mountain meadows and dark woods. It was always a little snotty in the woods and it was important to hit your lines just perfect or risk the dreaded face plant. There was one downhill switchback section that would be a real challenge if it was raining and damn near impossible to climb in the wet IMO. Rick called it the "Forest Service's Revenge" and there was evidence where people simply bulldogged their bikes straight over the hill rather than try to negotiate the switchbacks. But we had perfect trail conditions and had no problems with it.
Some awesome ATV trails and a little bit of road riding past some beautiful mountain trout streams had us entering Deadman Gulch and then the Rosebud Trail. Now Rick says we rode the Rosebud Trail, Reno Ridge Trail, Grassy Trail and Hunter's Hill Trail on the way up to Crystal Pass. But all I know is that these were some of the best trails I've ever seen. The terrain was a lot like the last WUDI ride at White Rock Mtn but maybe a bit more technical and with fancier scenery. We had lunch under a tree at the edge of a high meadow with the best view on planet earth. If Rick had started singing and dancing his way across the field I would have sworn we were on the "Sound of Music" set. I kept looking over my shoulder for the Von Tripp children anyway. Lunch was barely settled when we rolled into another wooded section that was a slalom run through the aspen trees. Minimal rocks and miles of loamy, root infested single track and I was in heaven. We were hootin' and hollerin' as we brake slid our way through the tighter areas and railed the open stuff. We climbed some big ol' grassy hills that were pretty steep and required a bit of body english to get just the right amount of traction and maintain forward motion. Rick was just the picture of serenity on his CRF as he chugged ever onward and upward compared to Keith and I who looked as if we were doing the Billings, MT hill climb on 125s.
With our bikes cursing us we finally got to where the grade lessened. We were above the tree line now and we rode through meadows of yellow flowers on our way on up to Crystal Pass. Almost at the top there were some mountain bikers climbing their way to the pass and how the f* they ever got there is beyond me but my hat's off to them because I couldn't have done it. The view from Crystal Pass was just incredible and for the first time in my life I was riding above the tree line and where there were patches of snow in the shaded areas.
After snapping a few photos and talking with the mtn bikers, we worked our way down the mountain, again over a wonderful single track trail. We stopped for a snack at an old mine and then proceeded on toward the bottom. It was on this section of trail that we had our closest call of the trip. It was a terrific trail, infested with rocks and roots and perfect practice for enduros. Keith was leading as usual and we were honking along at a notch somewhere above a quick trail pace but below race pace. As we rounded over a blind crest we met a group of guys in full race mode coming the opposite way. Bikes slid in every direction and fortunately everyone had a place to escape. As soon as the dust cleared everyone waved and went on but it was close.
By now it was getting on in the afternoon and we were concerned about fuel. I had already used up my 2.2 gallon tank and had dumped in the two 2-liter bottles that I carried in my backpack and Keith was still carrying one 2-litter bottle as a reserve. Rick had several ideas for trails back to the truck but we settled on the Lilly Pond Trail as the best choice considering the fuel situation. We rode a nifty little single track trail that took us to the entrance of the Lilly Pond Trail. I don't know what happened here exactly but I think it was a convergence of events. For one we were on the last leg of the trip. We'd been riding fairly conservative all the time because we didn't want to end the trip early with a broken bike or worse. Also, we were constantly concerned with fuel economy so we typically had been short shifting and staying off the pipe as much as practical. But those concerns were now behind us and we got our second wind on the short road ride down to the trail. Anyway, as soon as we split off from Rick and entered the trail something clicked and it seemed like Keith got the same idea at the same time. Without saying a word we just wicked it up and went off at full moto. It was truly a cosmic experience that words simply cannot describe. The day was beautiful, the soil was perfect, the adrenaline was flowing and the bikes were simply begging to be opened up. It was one of those rare times when everything is in slow motion and the trail just unfolds perfect lines out in front of you. We were sticking corners like you wouldn't believe, using rocks and trees as berms or brake sliding around obstacles. Sometimes we'd use a rock or a root to launch over the rough stuff and Keith made the most incredible move of the day by clearing an entire rock garden with one jump. I can't remember the last time I rode so hard or had so much fun and when we came out at the Lilly Pond I was just about at full moto-orgasm.
We stopped and high-fived and viewed the incredible scenery for one last time and then began our descent past an old, abandoned mining community and on toward the trailhead. On the gravel road back to the truck our trip came real close to disaster when some moron in a Ford Expedition came around a curve in a 4-wheel drift and completely out of control. Rick, who was leading, took to the ditch and Keith was right behind him. I was a little further back and the guy had pulled it back to his side by the time we met but it would have been a head-on collision if we had been in a car. Wouldn't that have been some shit to have ridden all those trail miles without incident only to be taken out by a car within sight of the parking area?
Just as we pulled up to our truck a light rain started falling. I checked the ICO and we had covered 68 miles today, nearly all of it single track and ATV trail. We quickly changed clothes and packed up for the trip back to TX. We said our thanks and goodbyes to Rick who needed to get going and a short while later we pulled out too. On the way out over Cottonwood Pass there was a majestic view of the Taylor Park valley. We paused for one last look at moto heaven before turning down toward the Texas flatland. This time I listened to Keith and took the other route home and we made it in 15 hours by driving all night.
Everett
