After a night in Steamboat it's time to clear the frost from the Connie and get back on the road and I pick up Hwy. 40 headed west.
On the outskirts of town I pass this place.
Not for the first time do I wonder about what it took to tough it out in the harsh conditions of western Colorado in a little shack like this: the heat and cold and isolation, this was pioneer life on the prairie.
Nearing the border with Utah. What the photo doesn't show are the howling winds on my port beam. Tumbleweeds fly by in a blur and sand gets into my helmet. I discover that if I speed up instead of slowing down the Connie remains more manageable. It seems to punch a bigger hole in the air that way but the effort to steer the bike has my back muscles in knots.
The temptation is there to let the Connie run loose on stretches like this but part of the purpose of this trip is to get myself to slow down and pay more attention to my surroundings, so I keep it at the speed limit. It feels like I'm hardly moving in all this space.
I cross my first state line on this trip.
Arriving at the Utah line, it's time to sit down with the map and get some idea of where I wanted to go. I was trending to the west but my route changed often according to weather or whim or some other impulse.
In one of my numerous classes in archaeology someone mentioned a museum in Price, UT and that becomes today's direction. It looked like Hwy 191 might be an interesting route.
And it was: good road surface, nice sweepers, varied terrain. The road wound through canyons and valleys and up into forests before descending into desert. Hwy. 191 in eastern Utah - highly recommended.
The autumn weather has temps in the mid-50's but I'll bet this can be a blistering environment during the hot months.