A few bucks in the tank and I was off to Rocky Mountain Pass. That, by any standard, is adventure. You’ll need a good atlas to trace my route some 257 miles with all but maybe 40 off the freeways. First stop was main street Golden for a pie and coffee, except they had no pie. The town is friendly, one chap even stopping on the highway when he saw me take a wrong turn. But as soon as I found route 119, off I was to Blackhawk, Colorado.
I didn’t stop. It is basically a collection of casinos. Then to Ward and heavy holiday traffic up to Estes Park, gateway to the front door to the entrance. Everybody loves the sidecar, and so did I when I saw that gas up there was $4.05 a gallon. This picture is typical of the foothills to the east of the Rockies, alas my camera does not capture the view as breathtakingly as the Mark I eyeball. Folks, driving the mountains on a two lane road is not the best place to make good time. My next Honda is an 1800, as this 1000 powers out on the steeper grades. Like most Hondas, the top two gears are virtually gutless. I’d describe the mountains as beautiful where I’d describe the Canadian Rockies as rugged. A good example of the difference was the hundreds of bicycle riders on the road. You don’t see that in the Kokanees.
There were plenty of motorcyclists as well, some of them pulling camper trailers. Made me jealous. If there wasn't so much traffic, I was tempted many times to go cross country. Just pull off the road and head into the wilderness. You are climbing to the continental divide, which is several miles past the highest stretch of roadway. That surprises many people. Once you get above the treeline, you are in an alpine tundra, and brother, it gets cold.
The weather changes instantly when you hit the clouds. Last time I crossed the Rockies was in an air conditioned Cadillac. This trip I was layered. Four layers, let me count. A wifebeater under a cotton shirt under a fleece windbreaker under a heavy duty winter jacket. And I still froze my nargles, it’s not like you can duck back inside a nice warm car. It is a hairy ride on a motorcycle, and much hairier with a sidecar. Imagine the upper pass, some 11,000 feet up, no trees, just windswept rocky taiga with near-frozen water globules condensing out of the clouds.
Meet Dave, who I gave a lift into town. He writes a journal of top events, and this sidecar ride was a first. Hi Dave, hope you see this. Anyone who writes daily is okay by me. That’s a person who knows he will be judged by time and history, not by today’s jealous and cranky gossips. Keep up the good work, pal, it is the people with “nothing to hide” who never, ever keep accurate records.The highway through the park is summer use only, and all for tourists. There are plenty of pullouts and they are at all the good spots, so don’t drive past any thinking the next will be better. I do wish they would put a marker at the highest point. It is by some lava cliffs and I didn’t stop since I was rapidly becoming an icicle. Next stop is Outdoor World for some real gloves.
The downhill leg was via a valley called Neversummer, and they got that right. The few deciduous trees were already turning. Note, that area is also devoid of helpful road signs. The pass is closed November to May, a darn good idea. The shoulders have snow markers ten feet tall. (Snow markers are just upright poles along the edge of the road every fifty feet to indicate the shoulder when the pavement is buried.)
Several sources told me this was the hottest summer after the coldest winter in seventy years. You can look that up, but I was unable to see any of my snow-capped mountains. It was dry even up past the two-mile altitude. I saw a few small glaciers in the shadows, that was it. The drive down is almost as tortuous, even when you get to Grand Lake, you are still in a valley and have to climb out of it, and this repeats at the next town.
Here is a rainbow as I emerged from the clouds into the first ray of sunshine in several hours. My cheapo camera doesn’t capture the real impact but it was the widest rainbow I’ve ever seen. By wide, I mean across the bandwidth. The arc itself was only what you see here. I wanted a change of scenery and this was it. It is a worthwhile jaunt, I recommend it. Be prepared, as the only thing higher than the mountains are the food and gas prices. To meet tons of friendly people, I’d also recommend you get a sidecar, but that’s already been done.The hairpin turns are 15 mph, and they really mean it. The road is mercifully smooth, although I lost a $14 pair of aviator clip-on glasses and a few leaves from my notebook. So you’ll know, this blog is somewhat redacted from notes. I have taken 72 pages of notes since I arrived in Colorado Well, roughly that many, since some are now deep in the national forest.
Changing the subject, have you ever heard of Carr . He talks about working memory, which I liken to computer RAM. It is a very small memory with which most people can hold only four pieces of information, a generous estimate for civil servants. As the next piece comes in, another has to leave. Since we live in an information age, he suggests people are now unable to concentrate. He’s a prize winner, so take some time and read his material. I was looking at the processing of information when I encountered his theory that people crave information. (The processing of information is not the same as merely acquiring it.)
He speculates that acquiring information triggers the human brain to produce dopamine. This pleasure inducing compound is what causes people to repeat the behavior that caused it. While I tend to agree with his take on this, I feel he fails to make any distinction between information and knowledge. I simply know too many individuals for whom learning is a painful experience, yet they are constantly checking their e-mails, phoning relatives and stay glued to Facebook.
Sorry, Mr. Carr, I cannot accept that information leads to learning, that freeing people from distractions makes them smarter. You must suspect this yourself, since you said that people who would wear a Crackberry in their ear would also wear a Google chip in their brain. Is there a difference between information and knowledge? Well, I know one lady who recently had her identity stolen who turned around and emailed her new phone number to everyone on her contact list. I’m not making this up.
Return Home
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
