Solo in the Sangres - A noobs way of finding ADV.

Well ever since I went on a this little trip ( http://www.advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=465239 ) with the Dak I was hooked! The bug had bitten me and it stung pretty bad. Now I was itching to get out, I needed to find out where to go and how to get there. I've been holed up in my cube all winter and I was in need of a scenic adventure.

I started to brainstorm as I had 4 days off in a week. Where could I go in 4 days that included more dirt than pavement and was open in late May (Most CO passes are still snowed in). After a little looking around I picked the Sangres, and I've never been to Taos, I figured that'd be a good ending point. I started mapping out some things to see along the way and it started to shape into a nice trip.

Here's what I came up with:


Well, here's when I started to run into some problems. I had about $100 to spend for this entire 4 day trip (food, gas, supplies, etc) on a non farkled out 650GS (all I had was a tank bag). That meant no hotels, very little eating out and a need to carry a pile of gear (did I mention I wanted to climb a 14er too?).

On a tight budget I went to home depot and came out with all the materials to build this bastardized version of what touratech would sell for hundreds. I was leery about the design, but proud of the end result. All in all it cost about $28 in materials to make. (I have more pics if interested, haha)

Crappy cell phone pic:


The next problem is I had no idea how to plan for something like this. Most of the time I use my Jeep, but this was a whole new challenge (one that I liked!). I HAD A ENORMOUS PILE OF CHIT TO BRING, and I needed most of it.

Laying it all out:




I brought my girlfriend in and she just laughed, then called me an idiot. (but this isn't really the first time I've come up with some stupid idea like this, nor will it be the last). But I was determined, and the night before I was going to leave I started to analyze the best way to make this to happen. But frusterated I ended up going out for a beer and thought it would be best to deal with this mess in the morning.

This could be good...

I wanted to be asleep by 12:00am, get up at 8:00am and depart by 10:00am. Well that was the plan and a damn good one but it didn't happen. I felt like a kid that was going to Disneyland tomorrow and tossed and turned thinking about the adventure that lay ahead. The last time I looked at the clock was around 3:45am and the next thing I remember was the alarm going off at 8:00am.

Slow to get out of bed I started to assess the situation, really just trying to find a starting point. Off to the bank to get some cash, a couple last minute bills to pay and back home to pack. I started cramming stuff everywhere and it became very clear that I wasn't going to fit everything. I trimmed what I deemed not essential and checked over the bike.

Now going on 11:00am and the forecast calling for afternoon storms everyday throughout the trip, I was throwing everything on the bike and scrambling around the house making sure I didn't miss anything.

I wasn't worried about the condition of the Dak much, as this trusty steed has severed me well over the last 1000 miles and 6 months of ownership (and the opportunity of learning the ins and outs of riding a motorcycle).

Now let me warn you, I TAKE A LOT OF PICTURES! People (read: my g/f) tell me all the time 1 picture is enough, but not for me. I take a lot and it'll become clear in this trip report. It may end more like a slideshow than a report, but I hope you don't mind. One of the blessings of going solo I guess.

Packed up and ready for the road:


I about dropped the bike getting on this SOB racing the 10 sec timer on the camera. I'm not going to lie, it sucked getting on and off the bike. Most of the time I had to pull on my paint leg to get it over the pile of crap and the large pack didn't help much either.



After saying a prayer I was on my way, which was a long 3 miles to the gas station. :)

Filling up at the local service station before heading off.


Now I gotta admit I was excited as all heck and a bit scared to death. The Breckenridge trip seemed hella far and most of my riding has been from my house to work and back. But throwing caution to the wind I proceeded.

I wanted to stay off the interstate (I-25) and on dirt roads and small hwys as much as possible. 1) because I wanted to see more and 2) going 75mph on the Dak scared the hell out of me. (and with the 14 tooth sprocket the bike gets pretty buzzy, something I learned on the last trip).

Going thru Castle Rock I headed north to Sedalia and west on Hwy 67.

Sedalia


Heading up I was starting to get a feel for the curves. It was a great ride on a sunny day, and I was soaking it all up jamming to Dave Matthews on the IPOD.

Pine Nook I believe.


Fun curves


Coming into Sprucewood


My first surprise of many, at Sprucewood, Hwy 67 turns to a dirt road with sharp turns and loose gravel. I had a total of about 8 miles on dirt roads before this trip and needless to say, this section took a while, but very scenic.

Pavement ends


Sharp curves next 9 miles


Great views


The bike was not nimble as I thought it would be in the loose gravel and I found myself more than once trying to keep the bike under me.


The sign was right, lots of sharp curves.






It took me longer than I had planned to take the 9 miles of "hwy", and to see pavement was a joyful experience. That road was the first of many 'WTF am I doing' thoughts.

The South Platte just before Hwy 67 turns back into pavement.

I`m enjoying so far.....

good read.

Once back on the pavement I was making good time. This is a great ride and it's no why wonder it's an extremely popular ride with the Harley boys and girls. The <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comffice:smarttags" /><st1lace>South Platte river</st1lace> was high in it's banks guiding you south to <st1lace><st1laceName>Woodland</st1laceName><st1laceType>Park</st1laceType></st1lace>. The curves were nice gentle, sweeping turns and something I greatly enjoyed.

Parked along the Platte









I'm not sure if I passed Deckers, but all it really was was a general store. There were a couple GS guys in the parking lot, but I was to busy making up time to stop by and say hi.

In 2002 the Hayman fire quickly spread in this area and to this date remains CO's largest wildfire torching 138,000 acres. Hwy 67 is really the east edge of the fire line and I was amazed how charred the land still is.










As the hwy straightened out heading into <st1lace><st1laceName>Woodland</st1laceName><st1laceType>Park</st1laceType></st1lace> I checked my fuel and hunger levels and all seemed to be good for the time being.

Heading into <st1lace><st1laceName>Woodland</st1laceName><st1laceType>Park</st1laceType></st1lace>
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<st1lace><st1laceType>In Woodland Park I headed west on Hwy 24 for a quick hop into Divide, CO, then back south on Hwy 67.

My Uncle just recently bought a cabin a couple miles off Hwy 67 near Divide and I figured I'd take the time to stop by and see how the remodeling progress was going. After a couple wrong turns and a little back tracking I was on the right road (the damn thing is tucked away).

Soon I came across this though.</st1laceType></st1lace>
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<st1lace><st1laceType>Well hell, they never mentioned anything about a gated community, keypad number or private access. It was to much work to take all the gear off to get to my cell phone to make a call, so I bagged the idea. Next time.

I was able to snap this nifty little pic thanks to the mirror pic thread.</st1laceType></st1lace>
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<st1lace><st1laceType>Back on 67 I continued South to the once booming gold camp of <st1:City><st1lace>Cripple Creek</st1lace></st1:City>. The wind picked up a bit and the temp was getting chilly. It's been a long time since I've been back to <st1:City><st1lace>Cripple Creek</st1lace></st1:City> after staying there a summer. The job was a gov job putting a new water main thru the town. I took all summer to put something like 1300 ft of pipe in. We had to blast almost every foot and went chewed up a lot of track hoe buckets pulling granite out. (I was 17 at the time). The town plumbing was so old that much of it wasn't mapped and we ran into a lot of surprises. It had both us and the town scratching their heads and took longer than expected.

They were doing some construction on the top of the pass, so being bored I snapped this pic.</st1laceType></st1lace>
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<st1lace><st1laceType>Once over the pass, I was blessed with the wonderful view of <st1:City><st1lace>Cripple Creek</st1lace></st1:City>.</st1laceType></st1lace>
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Before I got into town, I stopped by to check out the Mollie Katheleen Mine. I wasn't able to get to go down into the mine when I worked up here, so I thought maybe it'd be a good time now. But the steep admission was more than I was willing to pay to see dirt 1000ft down.





The gold diggers were nice and chatty.


Cripple Creek was the same as ever, and since I wasn't 21 when I was here last I figured I better try my luck.









I was looking for the Brass Ass, but it was to much of a walk so I settled my stake on Bronco Billys. I looked like a sore thumb walking thru the streets of <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comffice:smarttags" /><st1:City><st1lace>Cripple Creek</st1lace></st1:City>. Not only did I have all my gear on and a huge pack, everyone was older than hell. I don't know how these people survived up at the 10k mark pulling the slots and drinking the cheap drinks. Just when I thought I'd seen the oldest person up there, I would see one older.

I plopped down in a smelly chair and threw my gear beside me. Time to get rich and pay for the trip! I threw a fresh $5 bill in the closest 1 cent slot I could find and pulled away. I WON! HA



The luck didn't last long and I was soon out of money. On the last pull I thought of you guys (ADV) and threw on the helmet for good luck, but no dice, my time here was over.



Walking back to the bike I stopped by a little memorial park and paid my respects for those who lost their lives fighting for this great nation (something I do as often as I can). God Bless Our Troops!





Leaving <st1:City><st1lace>Cripple Creek</st1lace></st1:City>
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<st1:City><st1lace>Once back on the bike I continued south on 67 to the almost ghost town of Victor.

Here, between <st1:City><st1lace>Cripple Creek</st1lace></st1:City> and Victor is one of the largest gold strip mines in the world. On google earth it's pretty amazing and still very profitable.

Mine pics</st1lace></st1:City>
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<st1:City><st1lace>I stopped by to snag the pics and my bike would die after going into gear. After 5 minutes of cursing myself I tried it repeatedly. S*(T. Well I guess BMW wants you to be safe and you can't go unless the kick stand is up. Seems like a dumb idea, but I guess safety first.

Progress being made</st1lace></st1:City>
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<st1:City><st1lace>Victor doesn't share the same blessings that <st1:City><st1lace>Cripple Creek</st1lace></st1:City> has and is in poor shape, but a nice place to buzz around. Watch out for the pot holes cause they'll swallow your front tire if you're not paying attention.</st1lace></st1:City>
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Pictures continued:






After some searching I found the road to <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comffice:smarttags" /><st1lace><st1laceType>Canyon </st1laceType><st1laceType>City</st1laceType></st1lace>. I didn't know it was called <st1lace><st1laceName>Phantom </st1laceName><st1laceType>Canyon</st1laceType></st1lace> though, sounds fun.



Last view of Victor

Let's continue....

This dirt road was much like the others. Narrow canyons and winding roads that lead to Penrose along a 40 mile dirt stretch. I was getting better at the dirt now and my speed picked up. What would take maybe 1.5 hours via I-25 has taken me close to 5 hours. But I was having fun and that was the point.

Just graded


Beautiful


I guess this is part of the gold belt tour. Even though it was Wed I didn't see a single soul for about 15 miles, very relaxing ride.





More turns make for fast fun.


Stopped for a pee break in the canyon part. I was surprised at how beautiful it was.




A look back at a wider section, I think I passed my second car here.


This was probably one of the coolest bridges I've seen in recent memory. It was just about 60 feet long and about the same in height, but the angles on it were so cool. Since I was the only one for miles I stopped for some pics.




A couple miles later I came to this cool tunnel. It looked like an old train tunnel, I wonder if this was a narrow gauge rail back in the day.


The canyon lasted another 10 miles and flattened out just outside Penrose. From there it was back up to speed and I passed the Fed supermax prison on my left.

A long stretch of road.


Pretty soon I was in Wetmore and turned right on Hwy 96, heading up the canyon towards Westcliffe. I planned on camping the night just south of Westcliffe so I was getting excited.

Some sheep off the road.

Coming down into Westcliffe.




Finally I made it to Westcliffe. The storms started to roll in and the light for my gas turned on. Time to stretch and make a couple calls (no cell service where I was camping).



I was glad to see this guy taking a break as well. We swapped stories and I guess he was doing the Trans-American Trail. He looked pretty beat up and wore out, so I didn't bug him to much.

Nice ride schmatt!! Looks too fun!

Even though the day was getting late I still had over an hour of riding left. I needed to go south of Westciffe and then up the South Colony Lake trial and find a camping spot if I had any hope to climb Crestone Needle tomorrow.

I ran into a bit of rain just south of town, but nothing that lasted. After 10 miles I turned south on the two lane road and continued toward the Sangres.


And then right on the dirt road which I took till it was a dead end. (S. Colony Lakes)


The trail didn't waste much time until it became pretty ruff. I passed a couple guys loading quads and they looked at me puzzled, I waved and pressed on.



The bottom part was a bit ruff, but nothing hard. A little speed and the bumps smoothed out pretty good. I knew at some point it would get harder, but not sure how much.

A little video clip heading up on the easy stuff.

http://vimeo.com/4936952


Then I came upon the stream crossing. It didn't look to deep but it was flowing pretty good. Not sure what to make of it, I decided to cross because it's still a long ways to the trailhead from here and I didn't want to hike it in the wee hours of the morning.



The stream was f'n deep, much deeper than I thought on the other side. I was crossing slowly but hit a hole with some loose rocks and it sent the bike all over the place. My instincts made me twist the throttle and I was on a 8 second ride out of there. I made it to the other side, but the thought of crossing it again gave me shivers.

It didn't take much time until I came upon the mess.


As far as Colorado standards go, this was some mucky stuff. I didn't know how deep it was, but I knew the part with the water, as innocent as it looks, would swallow the bike unless I hit it hard. The other option was to take the off camber side and make a line for dry ground. I'm not sure I chose wisely in this gamble.

Still scared of the water I pick the edge and gassed it. It was like I was riding on a slip-n-slide, the bike lurched everywhere and I knew I was going to loose it. Then it came to a halt, and I knew I was stuck and stuck pretty good.

This will help you visualize the predicament I was in.






"Well shit, now what?" I thought to myself. No way it was going back where it came from and the hump was pretty big to get over. I sat on it and gassed it to see if I could rock it over, no luck, just made it much worse. The only way out was to push and gas it. The crap was so slick that I was about to fall down just trying to stand up. The option on waiting for help came to mind, but I knew no one would really come up here late in the day on a Wed evening. To make matters worse it looked like it was going to rain pretty soon.

Well, that left the only thing to do... get dirty. I planted my feet in the mud, and revved the throttle. I pushed hard and the mud was trying to take my boots off. Little progress was made, but it was moving. I dug deep and pushed as hard as I could and it's probably no surprise what happened next....



Well hell!, that's no good, but at least it was out.



No damage to speak of, just one dirty ass bike. I jumped on and made the best of the remaining light. I was right with the hunch that the trail would only get harder. More rocks, more water, and now snow started to appear. Bouncing along like a marble falling down stairs I progressed upward.



I was determined to make it as far as I could. I was hell bent on climbing a mountain tomorrow and not mud, water, snow, or rain was going to get in my way. I came to far to turn around and quit and I'll be damned to let anything get in the way of my ego now!

That was until the snow got deep. The crap really put a cramp in my game.




Now it was hard to pick the loaded bike up from the muddy area, but it was damn near impossible to pick it up here. I bent down and drew from within until I could start to feel my groin ripping and didn't stop until it was back on two wheels. I rode it out and a couple feet later I came upon a drift so large there was really no way across. I came as far as I could, I was at the end. I parked here and thought for a bit.



Parking in this spot was the last stupid thing I did that day. I wasn't using my head, and for some reason parking a loaded bike down hill in the water with rocks all around seemed like a good idea. If I wasn't already tired enough riding this damn trail to this point it took another herculean effort to turn it around and point it uphill.

Loving the timer photos.


Nice report. Looking forward to the shots from the top of Crestone Needle.

Exhausted, tired, hungry, and wet I rode down to the first spot I could put up a tent. I wasted no time in unpacking and started setting up camp. To say this was a tight spot would be an understatement, I was really just camping in the road, but I could care less at this point.



Camp set up, and feeling better. It was time to get out of the wet clothes and into something dry and warm. Hunger pains were also starting to become to the point where I couldn't ignore them (the only thing I ate all day was a quick bowl of cereal just before I left my house).



Now, the sky was almost dark and it was getting cold. I threw all the stuff in the tent and about the same time I heard and intense crack of thunder. The rain started pretty light, but the lightening/thunder was reason worry. Minutes after the rain it started to snow... how cute, a perfect ending to a long day.



I figured the snow would pass soon, and I could walk around and boil some water for dinner, but it didn't stop.




It was no use, I was holed up in the tent for the night. It was around 8:45pm and I was crammed in the sagging tent with the snow falling heavily.


Good thing I saved weight and space bringing my 40° marmot sleeping bag, doh! GPS revealed I was around 10,750 and I ate a pathetic dinner while I waited to get sleepy.




Here's a short video of me explaining the situation holed up in the tent:
http://www.vimeo.com/4937422


Between the lightening lighting the tent, the tremendous thunder and some bird or squirrel wanting to keep me up all night I didn't get much sleep.

This was the end of day one of my already eventful adventure. Day two proved to be much of the same.... I had mountains to conquer!

Laughing my ASS off here! Man, I wonder how many guys in their early to mid twenties do this sort of thing in CO, to include being far too high (altitude) at night, in May, with a shitty meal and improper sleeping bag? Been there done that, got the memories and the education! You're posting, so you obviously survived. Solo, at high altitude, in the woods, in Spring, is a little dangerous. I'm sure you'll be more careful next time. :)

BTW it is nice to see all your photos, this was ALL my old stomping ground back in 1993-2004 and it is nice to see all my favorite places. Here's hoping you went west on Hwy 50...

Oh, and climbing the needle (I forgot, was it Crestone you were climing?) Fuck that. LMAO!

great report and pictures!

looking forward to more!

I was thinking nearly the same thing. I'm not sure whether to admire him for being a ballsy n00b or shake my head and call him a big dummy.

Schmatt, you really lucked out in that hole. The mud around there is some seriously slick stuff. :eek1

Nice report, I'm definitely enjoying reading about your adventure.