Jammin thru the Continental Divide

[Jammin]

The pavement started after about a 100 miles from Atlantic City and I rode the telling Mineral Exploration Road out of the basin to take US-287 into Rawlins and cross one of the networks of a great civilization, the Interstate.

After a hearty lunch of fried chicken at the gas station, it was onwards into Colorado, where I was going to meet up with my riding friend, Mike, who was coming up from Denver to join me for the next three days. Mike moved out to Denver last year from Chicago and before that, was in Louisiana. Being a skilled dirt-rider, I got his blessings before my first dual sport trip into Mexico and was hoping to pick up a few more skills.

I picked up Sage Creek Road south of Rawlins, which was a good broad gravel road, with washboard in places and the shrub landscape slowly morphed into forests of aspen and pine as part of the Medicine Bow National Forest. It was good to be riding among trees again. Near the intersection of Sage Creek and WY-70, is the famous Aspen Alley, a narrow corridor shrouded with tall aspens. Your voice echoes in there and it feels humbling to be right next to such tall trees. The white bark of the closely spaced trees gives the illusion of entering a sacred place, but the green tops bring you back down to earth. I was hoping to camp here for the night, but I had to keep going to meet up with Mike.

WY-70 was a nice remote twisty piece of tarmac heading to the Colorado border. The mountain views in the setting sun made the ride very enjoyable. Just north of the border, the route turns on Routt County Road 129, which had a road closed sign meant for winter, but wasn't fully obvious to me. While trying to see if I needed to re-route around here, a local trucker confirmed the road was indeed open and that sign was meant only for winter.

The well-graded gravel road criss-crossed back and forth across the state borders as it followed a valley heading east. Numerous farms and ranches dotted the valley and the sunlight as dusk painted a beautiful golden hue across the stunning landscape. I turned south into Routt National Forest and was hoping to run into Mike soon as daylight, she was a disappearing as I headed deeper into the forest.


South of Rawlins on Sage Creek Rd.


Entering Medicine Bow National Forest near the Colorado border.


That wretched Mountain Pine Beetle killing so many trees.


Some good elevation change.


The beautiful Aspen Alley, a corridor of closely spaced white-barked green-topped trees.  


Now that they're dead, we might as well cut the pines down and use them.  


So will this area be all Aspen trees then?


On WY-70 heading to the state border, a nice road with gentle corners.


The beautiful landscape of south-central Wyoming.


I didn't know if the bottom lines on the board meant the road was closed only in the winter. Some passing locals cleared the doubt.


Crossing back and forth across the border for the next few miles.


Passed lots of charming farms nestled in this narrow valley along the border. The rain clouds added to the lighting.


The setting sun adding warmth to the nice ride through this lush valley. Heading towards Hahns Peak off there in the distance.  

About 20 miles south of the border, a bright noisy light was coming up at me and I high-fived Mike as we met up. He said he found a good place to camp for the night and we started setting up before darkness fell. It was a good spot with a view of Hahn's peak. Mike confirmed with the rangers that as long as we were about a 100 ft from the road, we could camp where ever we wanted. As the tents went up, I gathered firewood and Mike rounded up some stones to make a fire ring. Sitting on the panniers, around a crackling fire, eating dinner and seeing the full moon rise from behind a ridge was a great way to end another day of fantastic riding.


Entering Routt National Forest


It was getting late in the day and I would be camping in the forest as soon as I met my friend Mike coming the other way from Denver.


Being dusk, the cattle were out en masse. The campground owner in Montana joked about the hazards of cows saying that you'll likely run into black cows at night and white cows in winter.


Mike's XR650. He would be joining me for the next 3 days over Labor Day Weekend.

[Jammin]

Day 10 / Sunday, September 6, 2009

We got up to the beautiful sound of rain falling on the tents and not wanting to pack up in the wet, we waited it out for about an hour and it passed, with the sun breaking through right away. The pavement started within a few miles and we rode into Steamboat Springs to get some breakfast and dry out our gear. There was an hour wait for a local breakfast place, so Wendy's it was along with Starbucks for Mike. Having been in wilderness mode for the past five days, with no shower, I sure felt strange sitting among people drinking their cappuccinos. I had a shave and sink-shower at Wendy's and we were off back into the trail.


Packing up with Hahns Peak in view, after waiting an hour in our tents for the morning rain to end.


Heading south to Steamboat Springs.


Riding into Steamboat, where we dried our gear before heading off on the trail.


I'd like to come and ski here someday, to taste some of their famous champagne powder snow... mmm...

Heading around the picturesque Lake Catamount and Stagecoach State Park, the route climbed up to Lynx Pass near 9,000 ft. The next few days would be all about high elevation. Rain clouds were chasing us south and full rain gear was donned before the skies opened near the deep water crossing next to CO-134 and Gore Pass. I was weary of this two foot deep stream crossing in my research for this trip, mainly because my air box was drilled with holes on its sides by the previous owner for the required air intake for the flat slide carb. I hadn't had the time to get a new air box and try a different setup. This increased my risk of intaking water while crossing deep streams and besides, with my injured foot, I wouldn't be as capable of catching the bike if she started to fall over in the stream. The good thing was that there was a highway to easily detour around the stream. Mike also said he wasn't looking forward to riding with soaking boots for the rest of the day. As we regrouped, we went to check out the stream in pouring rain and she was gushing pretty fast. The approach and exit paths looked really slick and we agreed that there was no need to be heroes in attempting to cross. No time for pictures in the rain, so we turned around and took CO-134 to rejoin the trail towards Radium.

At that junction, a bunch of bikes were coming up north on the trail. I had a few words with the leader in the rain and got that he was leading a group from Mexico. We got going quickly as the trail head was clogging up with BMWs, KTMs, TransAlps and other kinds of bikes clearly not from America. It was tough to wave at the oncoming riders as we were negotiating riding downhill ruts in the rain as they were charging uphill to keep the momentum going. Customary nods and smiles were exchanged.

I was being extra careful as these kinds of roads were the toughest for me to ride through, but right foot on the rear brake and good clutch modulation saw me make it through with no pucker moments. I learnt my lesson of respecting downhill gravel sections. Mike waited up ahead after tricky sections to make sure I was doing fine.


Woot! All this pavement is killing my knobbies.


Nice dense foliage


Rain clouds up ahead. Riding around Lake Catamount.


Riding towards Lynx Pass through Routt National Forest. "Ok, all the green aspens get on the right side and the dead pines on the left side"


Putting on rain gear excepting to cross into rain up ahead.


It looked nice and clear up ahead but a black wall was closing in behind us and the deluge opened a few minutes later. This is the road leading to the deep water crossing, which we decided not to attempt in the heavy rain.  


Taking a break after a hairy downhill rutted section in the rain, heading towards Radium. The sun breaking through after a passing storm.


The foot was doing better, but I was still strap-shifting to give it more time to heal.  


Mike on his XR, heading down towards Radium.


Mike on his XR, heading down towards Radium.


Taking a break on the way to Radium.

After crossing the Colorado River at Radium, the route follows wide gravel county roads into Kremmling. We continued along the Colorado River looking for a nice spot for a break as we had been riding non-stop since Steamboat for about four hours. After an extended break where boots, socks, gloves and gear was dried in the sun, we continued towards Breckenridge.

Going around Williams Fork Reservoir, the route heads up to Ute Pass at 9,165 ft. Seeing dark clouds looming over the peak, I suited up for the rain but was surprised not to come across any. Mike told me that this was probably the weather phenomena known as Virga, where the precipitation evaporates before reaching the ground due to higher air pressures near the ground.


A short bit of pavement in the middle of the mountain heading towards Kremmling.


Heading down into Kremmling and looking ahead towards Williams Fork Reservoir.


Dark rain clouds surrounding Ute Pass and could you believe, we didn't get wet.


At Ute Pass, looking ahead towards Silverthorne and Dillon.  

We headed past Silverthorne and Frisco towards the ski town of Breckenridge, where I skiied a few years back in the early season. Motorcycling and skiing have a lot in common: the aspect of travel, wearing protective gear, being energetic in the outdoors, dealing with the elements and feeling g-forces.

My original plan was to head past the town and camp in the woods near the trail, but with it being cold and wet again, we decided to motel it. A quick Google search on my Android phone pointed us towards the Fireside Inn, a skiing hostel run by a British couple. $73 for a double room was probably the cheapest we could get in this high class tourist destination. We could've backtracked to the highway for cheaper accommodations, but we figured it wasn't worth it and besides, hostels are more inviting for travelers than regular chain motels.

The Fireside Inn was converted from a house built in the 1870s and it had a bit of a quirky layout. The hosts said they had other bikers who were riding the CDR stay with them, along with hikers and runners. I didn't know people actually ran the CDR in a race. Riding bikes seems much saner than that.

I had a good half an hour steaming hot shower after going six days without one. My last shower was in Lincoln, Montana. There were options for showers in Yellowstone, but it wasn't convenient and after paying $20 for a campsite and then having to fork over another $4 for showering seemed too much for my frugal ways. The body wipes I was using every morning ensured that I was at least hygienically clean and slapping on sufficient talc powder to cover perspiration added to that clean feeling. I was definitely starting to scratch all over as even if my body was perhaps sufficiently hygiened, my clothes did not get cleaned and I'm sure the billions of dead skin cells that we lose every day were piling up in my three sets of base layers. The hostel hosts were gracious to do a full laundry load for me including all clothes, gear liners and sleeping bag. Feeling squeaky clean, we headed out to Giampietro, a pizzeria on the strip and enjoyed a few well-deserved Colorado beers and hearty supreme pizza.

[Jammin]

Day 11 / Monday, September 7, 2009

Seeing frost on our bike seats in the morning, we saw it was a good decision to sleep indoors last night. Winding up the back of Breckenridge, the route heads up to Boreas Pass at 11,500 ft. After serving as a route for the early gold rush in the 1860s, a narrow gauge train track was laid up and over the pass in the 1880s by Sidney Dillon from Union Pacific Railroad. He named the pass after the Ancient Greek god of the North Wind. After World War II, the Army Corp of Engineers remade the route for vehicular traffic and is popular today as an easy gravel pass road. At the end of the pavement, we saw locals getting ready to cycle, run and walk the pass.

Mike was having a good time and really enjoying being in the groove. He did a bit of work on his XR and was glad to see her performing nicely. Being close to Denver, he vowed to come back and find more roads like this.


While the ladies spent a cold night outside (frost on the seats), we bunked in a hostel in Breckenridge.


The Fireside Inn at Breckridge, where I took my first shower in 6 days since Lincoln, MT


Going through a rock pass right outside Breckenridge.


Fall colors beginning.  


Looking west into the Breckenridge valley.


A beautiful morning ride up to Boreas Pass.


At Boreas Pass


At Boreas Pass


Mike, waiting up for me and taking in the awesome view. Note the pockets of color in the trees below.


Looking south past Como towards the high altitude plains we would be riding through.

Fall was starting to set in at these high altitudes and patches of colored trees were spotted. On the south side of the pass, the route crosses the historic mining town of Como, named by Italians who came to work the gold fields in the 19th century. From here, we would be riding through the geographic area called South Park, which is a high altitude intermontane grassland basin, with the route staying above 9,000 ft most of the way. It was formed as a wide faulted syncline, where the layers underneath have a downward-curving fold towards the center of the basin, between the Front Range and the Mosquito Range. As mentioned earlier, the layers under the Great Divide Basin go the other way, with an upward-curving fold forming an anticline. It all looks the same for us surface-dwelling creatures, but there is so much more going on under our feet and tires. The creator of the Comedy Central animated series of the same name grew up close to here and took inspiration from towns in the area to create his famous show.

The route flowed gently along the high altitude meadows and was a very peaceful ride. Besides your ever-present friendly bovines, there wasn't another soul for miles. After crossing a little stream and getting some water kicks, the route went through the quaint town of Harstel, labeled as the geometric center of Colorado. At the southern end of South Park, the route climbs up into the San Isabel National Forest, heading to Salida. Riding among closely spaced trees was welcomed after the grassland riding.


South of Como on Elkhorn Rd riding through South Park, a high altitude grassland. In remote places, you can always rely on bovine companionship.


Washboard road at times, but generally a nice high altitude ride. Road was above 9,000 ft heading to Harstel.


Big blue skies and clouds, hardly a boring view.


The road gently rolled around the high meadows.


Very peaceful riding.


Crossing a little stream


South of Hartsel, heading through the San Isabel National Forest towards Salida.


The change in scenery with close-by trees was welcome after all the open range riding.

[Jammin]

Looking across the valley with Salida and Poncha Springs towards Marshall Pass.


Heading down into Salida.

South of Poncha Springs, the route heads up to Mt Ouray and Marshall Pass at 10,842 ft, which was part of the Denver & Rio Grande Transcontinental Route railroad that went from Denver to Salt Late City in the late 19th century. There were known for their high mountain railroad passes with their motto being, "Through The Rockies, Not Around Them." When the rails were lifted, they left behind nice mountain roads for us to enjoy these days. The road was easy riding with beautiful scenery. At the junction of Marshall Pass Road and US-50 is the notable Tomichi Creek Trading Post and Sargents, a good place to get an ice cream.


Heading up to Marshall Pass on Chaffee County Road 200.


Looking down on O'Haver Lake, a nice place to camp.


The road was well maintained and an easy ride.


Lots of dense forest riding.


Marshall Pass, 10,842 ft. This road was part of Denver & Rio Grande's narrow gauge train route in the late 19th century, heading west to Salt Lake City.


Looking south from Marshall Pass.


Heading down the west side of the pass towards Sargents.


Closely placed aspens make for some great riding.


Tomichi Creek Trading Post at Sargents, at the junction of Marshall Pass Road and US 50.

Regarding the quality of the GPS route, we were thankful that the actual tracks were included as sometimes the routing doesn't correctly follow the road, probably due to map inaccuracies. Mike continued following the tracks into Gunnison instead of turning off on the route at Doyleville. I guess when Mark Sampson plotted this route he detoured to Gunnison to get gas or something else. Having split up from Mike, I waited and then went to get him, as he turned around in Gunnison. Having only lost half an hour, we continued south towards Cochetopa Pass.

Once again, we saw a dark wall of clouds up ahead with heavy lightning and Mike reassured me that we wouldn't get wet. But I still stopped and donned all my rain gear, just in case and what do you know, we didn't get wet. Those virgas are quite amazing.


Heading south from Doyleville towards Cochetopa Pass. Looks like a nice sunny afternoon...


And then we see these dark wall of clouds with heavy lightning up ahead.


Again, we didn't get wet. Mike informed me of this Colorado weather phenomena known as Virga, where the precipitation evaporates before reaching the ground due to higher air pressures near the ground. I still stopped and put on all my rain gear... just in case.

I picked up the pace a bit heading up to pass, trying to beat the possible rain and was enjoying the ride. Mike caught up with me and after noting that there weren't any big towns up ahead, we decided to spend the night in the forest as we saw the rain wasn't going to come to us. It had been 215 miles from Breckenridge. We found a nice spot in a small canyon at 8,920 ft and after setting up the tents, we gathered firewood from under an old pine tree that looked like it hadn't been disturbed in a long time, with its discarded branches falling on top of older ones over time, making impressions in the soft ground. We also gathered lots of pine cones as they light up very fast as tinder.

The fast moving wind died down as the sun set and the fire came alive. We sat on the panniers and enjoyed a beautifully quiet evening, slowly waiting for dinner to be cooked on my wood stove. It works, but getting it going takes time and is involving, but it provided entertainment. As the evening wore on, we could see the shadow of the ridge behind us slowly creeping up as the full moon rose behind it. For some reason, I hadn't witnessed too many moon rises in the past and was soaking it in. It's amazing how much sun light was reflecting off the moon, lighting up our whole campsite.


Riding the historic Saguache - San Juan Toll Road commissioned by Otto Mears and other wealthy businessman in the late 19th century hoping to exploit silver mining possibilities in these mountains. The railroad route mentioned above robbed these roads of traffic.


Cochetopa Pass on the divide at 10,032 ft. It's a Ute Indian word meaning "pass of the buffalo." In the mid 19th century, expeditions were sent to find a route through here for the intercontinental railroad. After skirmishes with harsh winters and protective Native Americans, it was decided to go through Wyoming and the Great Divide Basin.  


Setting up camp for the night, just east of Cochetopa Pass.


Getting a fire going before the sun completely set.


Nothing better than sitting around a fire after a nice day of riding through the forests and high mountains.


Fire with fallen branches from a pine tree that looked like it hadn't been disturbed in ages.


Watching the moon rise over the ridge.

[Jammin]

Day 12 / Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Waking up to a beautiful and chilly morning, we headed to the remote trading post at La Garita, near Del Norte for breakfast. The 30 miles to get there was an enjoyable ride up and over Carnero Pass at 10,166 ft. The town gets it name from the relatively unknown La Garita Caldera, a supervolcano nearby that has been billed as the most explosive event on Earth besides asteroid impacts, when it exploded about 25 millions years ago.  The caldera is 22 by 47 miles wide and greatly impacted the geology of Colorado. Its vast size took scientists 30 years of research to reveal the story of the volcano.

We were the only patrons at the homey rustic restaurant and the old lady who ran the place was sitting at the next table cutting red skin potatoes for our breakfast. After seeing a program on TV in one of the motel rooms on tasty biscuits and gravy, I was craving for some and found it on the menu. It was delicious, but probably not the best food for off-road riding.


Waking up to a beautiful morning east of Cochetopa Pass.


Heading south towards Carnero Pass.


Riding through aspens in the morning is a nice feeling.


Heading south towards Carnero Pass.  


Carnero Pass


Cutting through a rock pass east of Carnero Pass.


Heading towards La Garita for breakfast.


Breakfast at La Garita, a small convenience store with a restaurant and campground attached.


Biscuits and Gravy at La Garita. I was craving biscuits after seeing a cooking show in one of the motels. The potatoes were cut by the owner sitting at the next table with a bunch of regulars. Nice setting.

I indulged in a heavy breakfast, thinking the next bit of the trail was all pavement into Del Norte, but to my surprise, it quickly turned down onto a two-track jeep trail. With my left ankle still not feeling the best, I was a bit leery following Mike, but the first section was fun with the track following the undulating terrain and water puddles in the troughs. But after a while, the track emptied into a dried river bed with fine black sand, a terrain I'm not yet comfortable riding. Not having the skills to plow through there with full throttle, I puttered along trying to be as light as possible on the handle bar, yet having it snap repeatedly to the left and right. I was breathing heavily and wanted to be done with this section. I kept my right foot near the rear brake but had to dangle my left foot to catch the bike if she felt like going over. With shrubs growing right onto the trail, I didn't see a rock hidden under a shrub and banged my already injured left ankle against it, sending shivers of pain shooting up my spine. I tried to get up onto the surrounding solid ground, but couldn't negotiate a better path than the river bed. Having learnt the lesson of keeping the throttle pinned open instead of grabbing the brakes in tricky situations, I didn't take a spill and made it out of there alive.

Mike offered some consolation in saying even he too found that section quite difficult. Alright, I was now done with off-roading for the remainder of the trip. My foot was healing up pretty good, but I probably set it back a few notches with that whack and it looked like strap-shifting was here to stay for a few more days.

At Del Norte, Mike decided to turn around and start heading back up to Denver as he had to report back to work the next day. He had hoped to get to the southern end of Colorado, but with more rain clouds looming up ahead, the decision was easier to make. I enjoyed having Mike's company for the past two days and appreciated him waiting patiently for me along the way and giving some pointers.


Tackling the hardest part of the route for me right after a heavy breakfast. This little trail heading to Del Norte started out with some fun undulating two-track and then merged with a black sand river bed, which wasn't fun and I banged my sprained foot against a rock. That's it, no more off-road for the rest of the trip. Need to make it back home.


Mike wiping some sweat off as even he admitted that was a tough section of fine sand.

Even after saying I was sticking to pavement after the river bed run, I figured I would at least go up to Summitville on the route and then turn towards the highway. Having been told that the trail through northern New Mexico was quite rocky, I had already planned to avoid that section, much to my dismay as this was one section that I was really looking forward to for it's stunning scenery from other ride reports.

It was easy riding up into the Rio Grande National Forest on well-graded gravel roads as the elevation rose to the highest crossing of the CDR at Greyback Mountain and Indiana Pass, at 11, 959 ft. With dark clouds looming over and more to the south, I figured I should throw in the towel and take the highway to Chama, New Mexico.

The terrain near Summitville, consisting of high altitude meadows was made more memorable by the looming gray presence of rain clouds and the streaks of sunlight cutting through. I passed through the once open pit mine and saw the heavy foot of man treading destructively on this fragile earth. Summitville is another Superfund EPA site; a gold mine best known for the environmental damage done in the 1980s by its accidental leak of cyanide and other toxic chemicals into the Alamosa River, killing all aquatic life for 17 miles in the river, earning it the title of worst cyanide spill in American history. I know we need to extract resources from the earth to sustain our modern way of living but it looks like whenever things go bad, responsibility is lacking. Of the $150 million spent of taxpayer’s money on the clean up, only $30 million was paid by the mining company before declaring bankruptcy. Riding through all this pristine wilderness and seeing the recklessness of our modern civilization emphasizes the need for greater respect for nature and not taking for granted this beautiful planet we inhabit.

As I descended down Pass Creek Road in the rain towards the highway, I was concentrating on being very smooth with the throttle and brakes as the road surface was turning slick. Coming out of the forest onto US-160, sanDRina and various parts of me were covered in a slick mud. I bid farewell to the off-road one last time and set into the groove of riding twisty pavement in the pouring rain up and over Wolf Creek Pass at 10,850 ft. I had ridden through here two years ago with some friends on a sport-touring ride heading to the Million Dollar Highway, on a tour around Colorado and Utah.


South of Del Norte, Mike turned around to start heading back to Denver and I continued south towards Summitville.  


Entering the Rio Grande National Forest.


No more aspen trees, but evergreens also make for some nice riding.


At Greyback Mountain.


Greyback Mountain


The highest I got to on this trip, 11,959 ft at Greyback Mountain, Indiana Pass.


Is that virga or real rain?  


High altitude riding past Summitville.  


Deciding to head back to US 160 and take pavement to Chama, NM.


Riding through a good hour or so of rain soaked mud roads heading down from Summitville on Pass Creek Rd.


Following Pass Creek to the highway.


Done with the wet mud and finally on pavement.


Muddy boots.


A thin coat of wet mud on everything


Riding in the rain through Wolf Creek Pass heading towards Pagosa Springs.


Crossing into New Mexico and riding through more rain heading to Chama.

After warming up over a cup of hot soup at Pagosa Springs, it was onwards to the last state on the CDR, New Mexico. The views along US-84 were nice and the rain persisted all the way into Chama. This small, idyllic tourist town is set at the base of Cumbres Pass and is known for its still functional steam train plying the scenic Cumbres to Toltec Railroad, built in the 1880s.

The first five motels on the edge of town were all booked for the night and I luckily got the last room at the Foster Hotel, later finding out that this was the oldest commercial structure in town being built in 1881 to house travelers riding the Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad. Different sections were added throughout the years and you definitely felt the age of the place in the rooms, but hey, that's character. The shower was basically a closest with a curtain, but the warm water felt great after all that chilly rain riding. The bartender said there were quite a few haunted rooms in the hotel and guests have encountered a few friendly spirits. Having gotten over my fear of ghosts long ago in childhood, I'd welcome some company. As I prepared dinner, I could hear the steam engine at the nearby terminus huffing and puffing and releasing its steam.

[Jammin]

Day 13 / Wednesday, September 9, 2009

The decision to stay on pavement through New Mexico was made easier after seeing the forecast for rain over the next few days. Craig's wife, Karen, the cowboy family I met in Wyoming, said she grew up in New Mexico and told me to be wary of the rains there as they're known to move in real fast with heavy intensity. Plus, I had read that the CDR trail through New Mexico was mainly mud that quickly turned to a slick soup when wet. The dry river beds, arroyos, on the trail are also prime candidates for flash-flooding. Knowing all this, I planned a route on pavement to follow the CDR down to the Mexican border over the next three days before heading back home to Chicago.

I set off down US-84 riding through red rock formations and getting a taste for the arid terrain that characterizes this state. At Abiquiu Reservoir, I turned west on NM-96 towards the town of Cuba. The road went through a few small towns and climbed up and down through forested areas.


With my left foot still throbbing and knowing that the northern New Mexico part of the CDR route was quite rocky, I decided to stay on pavement through the state.


Red rock formations south of Chama on US 64.


Abiquiu Reservoir


My good friend Allen is from Farmington, but I was heading south to Cuba.

Heading southwest out of Cuba on NM-197, I was heading into the desert basin region, with straight-as-an-arrow roads surrounded by small shrubs. Passing through Grants on the Interstate, I picked up some fried chicken gizzards at a gas station. Heading southwest on NM-117, I stopped and enjoyed the views at the sandstone bluffs in El Malpais (badlands) National Monument, looking over the vast McCarties lava flow, dated to around 3,000 years ago and comparable to the currently active Kilauea lava flow in Hawaii. Looking at a satellite image of the area puts the lava flow in perspective as it stretches over 30 miles across a huge valley. This lava sheet formation is being studied by NASA scientists to help in surface feature identification on other planets, such as Mars, where past volcanism has occurred. The harshness of the environment on the lava flow restricts vegetation growth but those that do get a foothold seem to last a long time, with small trees being dated to 200 years old as reduced numbers of animals are around to prey on them. The cracks in the lava help trap water for the deep-rooted trees to survive.

I pushed on south heading towards Pie Town and after the sandstone bluffs merged into the ground, it was back to wide open terrain with bright blue skies. Having no visual markers near the horizon, the clouds appeared much closer to me and having straight roads with no traffic, I could afford to let my mind wander and play with the shapes in the clouds.

I came across the CDR route into Pie Town and seeing the soft moist mud, I continued on the pavement, knowing rains were due anytime now in the afternoon. However, I did end up taking some more off-road, NM-603, as I was trying to avoid a looming dark cloud to the west, which was throwing lightning to the ground. The road was alright but it seemed to be a paved road at some time in its past that was allowed to slowly deteriorate away, with washboard in many places.


Twisty pavement on NM-197 heading to Grants.


Straight as an arrow heading into the desert.


At the Sandstone Bluffs Overlook in El Malpais (badlands) National Monument looking out across the vast McCarty's Lava Flow, dated to around 3,000 years ago and comparable to the currently active Kilauea lava flow in Hawaii.


Sandstone bluffs along NM 117.


Sandstone bluffs along NM 117.


La Ventana Natural Arch, eroded from sandstone deposited during the Dinosaur Era (more than 65 million years ago).


Short trees growing in the lava flow, which can be around 200 years old or more but have stunted growth due to the harshness of the environment.  


Sandstone bluffs along NM 117.  


Reading up about the lava flow.


The CDR route to Pie Town, which I decided against seeing the soft mud and the expected afternoon rains.


On such open ground, the clouds feel much closer and provide enough entertainment in the otherwise barren landscape.


Montana might have grabbed the Big Sky tag line, but how's this for New Mexico's big sky. The road is at the bottom right.


Turns in the road are always appreciated after super long straight sections.


Cutting across on NM-603 towards Pie Town. I did say no more off road but I was trying to avoid riding through that dark cloud on the right with lightning.


A random old sign post with the infamous Hwy 666, which was taken down due to its religious connotations with the Christian devil and the sign being stolen too often.  


Bad timing as the famous pie shop closed an hour before (3pm).

I arrived at the famous Pie Town cafe only to realize that they had closed an hour before. This little town is known for serving some delicious pies to travelers on the Continental Divide.

From here, I headed east towards the main attraction for me in this area, the Very Large Array radio telescope system. Spotting it on the map and doing some quick research on my phone, I figured I could easily spend a few hours there the next day touring the site, as it's open to visitors. Crossing the Plains of San Augustin on the straight US-60, being an astronomy enthusiast, I was getting excited as the view of the radio antennas slowly came into view, like desert sunflowers looking up to the sky and beyond. I also realized I was in luck for good photo opportunities as the antennas were spaced closely together instead of being spread far apart across the vast plain. This site was chosen for the telescope system as it's rural (reducing human radio interferences), high attitude at 6970 ft (increasing signal collection from space) and flat (allowing for a large array on rails).

With these radio antenna, their main purpose is not to listen for radio audio signals, like SETI is doing, waiting to hear traces of other advanced civilizations, but they actually collect radio waves coming from astronomical sources and produce visual images. The regular optical images that our eyes can see are just one small sliver of all the different forms of light on the electromagnetic spectrum. Higher than visible light frequencies are ultraviolet, x-ray and gamma rays, the most energetic light waves and lower than visible light comes infrared, microwave and radio, the longest wave lengths.

After it was discovered in the 1930s that large astronomical objects emit radio waves, astronomers have vastly increased our understanding of the Universe. Radio waves come from objects varying from our Sun to the supermassive black hole at the center of our galaxy near Sagittarius to the Cosmic Microwave Background radiation, coming from very near in time to the Big Bang.

Since the signals are very weak and can easily be electrically noisy, many antennas are usually used together to produce a higher quality image. By moving the 27 antennas at the VLA from being very close together (600 meters from the center) to very far away along railroad tracks (21 kms from the center), images can be produced of very large objects spanning thousands of light-years (the distance light travels in a year at 671 million miles per hour) or very high resolution of distant small objects at billions of light-years away. One of the tracks from the array crosses the highway, US-60 and antennas are periodically rolled across the road on a transporter as the site's configuration changes. To take this a step further, antennas placed around the world can be digitally synchronized to act as one giant radio dish the size of the Earth. In the future, massive radio astronomy will be conducted from space with far-flung antennas, perhaps forming an equivalent radio dish the size of the solar system.


Crossing the Plains of San Augustin on US 60 and catching the first glimpse of some dish antennas in the distance.


The dishes are part of the Very Large Array radio telescope, located 50 miles west of Socorro. This was also the site for the Jodie Foster movie Contact.


Being an astronomy enthusiast, I was excited to visit the site, which is open to the public.

Radio waves are typically associated with over-the-air audio broadcasts but actually over-the-air TV broadcasts are also technically considered radio waves, along with cellphone communication. And in this manner, our Earth has been projecting its own radio waves into space from all our radio and television broadcasts since the late 19th century. If other advanced extra-terrestrial civilizations are listening in to us, they probably need very strong receivers as our radio emissions will blend into the background noise of space within a few light-years from Earth and the earliest transmissions have only reached 60 light-years or so till now. And so far, it looks like there're no other advanced civilizations within a 200 light-year radius from Earth, but man's quest to find other intelligent beings in the Cosmos continues.

I first heard about the VLA from Carl Sagan's movie Contact, in which Jodie Foster's character receives a signal from space leading to a fantastical journey through the cosmos capturing the imagination of space-lovers worldwide. The site was also heavily featured in Carl Sagan's documentary series, Cosmos, which covered a wide range of topics varying from the origin of life to our place in the Universe, presenting scientific knowledge gained by the human race up to that point. It's still the most widely seen PBS series and has currently been seen by at least 500 million people worldwide. The series positively affected my outlook on life when I discovered it a few years ago.


How beautiful to see nature interacting with man's high technology. Pronghorn galloping across the array site.


It was getting late in the day and I planned to visit the next morning.


Signature New Mexico thunderstorms moving in fast across the high plains with lightning in the distance.

Wanting to camp close to the VLA, I entered the Montosa RV park a few miles from the site and didn't see anybody around in the rundown camp offices. Seeing and hearing thunderous clouds moving across the high altitude plains, I decided to camp under the outdoor pavilion at the campsite. As I prepared dinner of couscous with tuna and asparagus, I plugged in my audio book of Contact read by Jodie Foster. Call it cheesy if you want, but the one thing I always try to do is create the perfect moment for every situation, such as having appropriate music. And what better way to listen to a story about space than lying quietly in the dark on abandoned picnic tables next to an array of radio telescopes featured heavily in the story.

[Jammin]

Day 14 / Thursday, September 10, 2009

It was a windy and loud night with heavy crashes of thunder. I tried to fall asleep on the picnic tables, but the wind was too strong, so I setup my tent between the tables and got some good rest. Packing up in the morning, I still didn't see anybody around and quietly left.


I spent the windy and thunderous night in this shed in an RV park close to the array site.  


Entering the array site, which was built in the 70's.


Even with all the ex-military vehicles around, this is a non-defense site and is purely a science facility, thus being open to the public.

The VLA has a visitor center with a self-guided walking tour around the site. At the visitor center, an automatic video plays to explain about radio astronomy and the site's history. I thought I would be the one random person visiting the site, but there was actually a steady stream of visitors with license plates from many different states. Good to see radio astronomy being appreciated by many.

Being a science facility and not a military site, the public is free to wander the grounds with no guards around. The data from the antennas is analyzed at an operations center 50 miles away in Socorro, so the only people around were a few maintenance staff and visitors. As you walk around, signs warn visitors to seek shelter when they see dark clouds forming as lightning is a real danger on the open grounds.

Even though the site may look devoid of human contact, the antennas were actually constantly on the move by remote operators. The 82 ft dishes can swivel and rotate to track an object across the sky as the Earth spins on its axis. It was quite amazing to be right under one of the 230 ton dishes as it switched from looking at the horizon to straight up at the sky. It moved quite gracefully and it was quite a show of human technical achievement to see many of the closely spaced antennas moving in unison.


Taking a self-guided walking tour of the facility.


One of the 27 antennas that the public is allowed to walk up to. The dish is 82 ft (25 meters) in diameter and is fully mobile to point at any direction and to follow a radio source across the sky as the earth rotates. The antennas were constantly moving while I was there.


The primary purpose of these antenna is not to listen to radio sources from space but actually to capture the electromagnetic radiation (also known as light) and produce images of objects that emit radio waves, like the supermassive black hole at the center of our Milky Way galaxy.


The base of the antenna, when unbolted, can be lifted and allows the antenna to be moved to different configurations across the site as all the antenna can act as one big radio antenna depending on what is being observed.


Sculpture depicting the Y-shape of the array site. The antenna are periodically moved back and forth on rails to provide different resolutions. At its widest configuration, the array can simulate a single dish that is 22 miles in diameter.  


Detailed view of the underside of a dish, showing its rotating mechanism.


One of the rail transporters that is used to move the antennas around.

I rode up to the huge Antenna Assembly Building, where the antennas are serviced and where they were built when the site was commissioned in the 1970s for a cost of $78 million. This was as close as I was going to get to massive assembly buildings, as I really want to see the Space Shuttle's gargantuan Vehicle Assembly Building down at the Kennedy Space Center in Florida.

I guess my interest in radio astronomy started when I visited the Giant Metrewave Radio Telescope near Bombay, India as part of a high school science field trip and I hope it continues with a visit to the next generation of radio telescopes at the Atacama Large Millimeter Array in the Atacama Desert of Chile.


At the Antenna Assembly Building, where servicing and construction takes place. This is as close as I'll get to the Shuttle's Vehicle Assembly Building down in Cape Canaveral, Florida. Hoping to see a launch before the program ends.


Looking down the main rail line of the array with all the dishes pointed up.


I had good timing as the antenna were all bunched up closely making for some nice shots instead of being spread apart.  

After getting my fill of space thrills, I headed back west on US-60 to catch NM-12 to US-180 down to Silver City. I was once again glad I was staying on pavement as I rode through a couple of fast-moving heavy downpours, which probably turned any off-road trails into mud. The views through Gila National Forest were nice, especially as the road twistied up beneath the San Francisco Mountains, named much before the city in California to honor St. Francis of Assisi. The forest area also houses the Gila Wilderness, being the first so designated place in 1924 in order to preserve natural environment from being modified by human activity.


Continuing on south on NM-12 heading to Silver City through the Gila National Forest.


Good thing I decided to stay on pavement as daily afternoon thunderstorms were becoming the norm and New Mexico is famous for its dirt roads that turn into mud when wet.


New Mexico's storms are also known to be fast moving. Heavy rain above, bright sunshine here...


And heavy rain again. Click here for high resolution image of the panorama.


Nice views riding through Gila National Forest.


Wee, fun twisties.

As I reached Silver City, obviously a town with mining at its core, the dark rain clouds I had ran through earlier had followed me south and since I wanted to camp once more before the end of the trip, I continued on south to Deming. South of the city, US-180 crosses a high altitude desert at 4,000 ft and is arrow-straight for 30 miles. Signs on the road warned of extreme cross-winds and possible dust storms causing zero visibility. I was more concerned with the lightning I saw in the fast moving clouds. The view was so clear that I could see a small mountain in Deming the whole way down US-180. I thought I could camp at Rockhound State Park, at the base of that mountain, but as I got near Deming, the rain clouds were closing in and just as I pulled up to a motel, the skies opened and a heavy intense storm ensued for the next two hours with a beautiful lightning show. There was too much water spray to get any photos, but it was quite entertaining to see the regular bright flashes of light dancing across the horizon.


Rainbow over Silver City with rain clouds hovering about.


I wanted to camp one last night before reaching the Mexican border tomorrow and seeing this black mass, I decided to head closer to the border to avoid the rains.  


Zero visibility warning, that is during dust storms across the open US 180 heading south to Deming from Silver City.  


They really psyche you out with all the warning signs, but with that dark clouds up ahead, it's probably appropriate.


Fast moving rain across the desert.


I was hoping to camp at Rock Hound State Park, south of Deming, at the base of the mountain at the bottom right in this picture. The road is so straight that I could see this mountain almost the whole way from Silver City.


But as I got closer, this cloud had settled in at the top and lightning was striking around the rainbow and the black mass of clouds had followed me all the way south. Just as I checked in to a motel, the skies opened and the deluge ensued with a beautiful lightning storm.

[Jammin]

Day 15 / Friday, September 11, 2009

As I neared the Mexican border, I reflected on the fact that I had traveled from the Canadian border down the spine of the Rockies through beautiful wilderness and enjoyed a good ten days on the Continental Divide. After taking the obligatory picture at the border, I crossed into Mexico for lunch at Las Palomas.

Besides finding my favorite Mexican food, birria (stewed goat meat), my main purpose was to make sure that I could successfully temporarily import a motorcycle into Mexico. When I exited Mexico in 2007, after my two week trip around the country, I didn't manage to perform the required exit procedures for myself or my motorcycle. I'll blame it on confusion at the border and not understanding the severity of the situation. Without showing the Mexican customs officials that you've successfully departed their country with your temporarily imported vehicle, they'll presume it's still in Mexico and probably being illegally sold. This can prevent you from entering their country the next time with a vehicle, without jumping through some hoops and paying fines.

Since I was on a new motorcycle with a new passport, I didn't have any problems getting sanDRina through customs. The key to ensuring that I could re-enter Mexico in the future was to make sure I did all the exit procedures correctly this time.


From the Canadian border to the Mexican border along the Continental Divide of the USA. Done.


Crossing over into Mexico at Columbus / Las Palomas to make sure I could enter the country with no problems, as I didn't exit properly the last time in 2007.


My reward for having completed the ride - having some super tasty birria for lunch, which is stewed pulled goat meat soup. Mmm mmm good, my favorite dish from my first trip into Mexico.


What a nice array of condiments, just the kind of stuff I like to put on my food: cucumbers, avocado, cilantro, cabbage, salsa and hot sauce.

After a delicious lunch, I headed east to Ciudad Juárez to cross back into the US. I couldn't cross back where I had entered as I didn't want to rouse any suspicions with the customs officials. Not being a US citizen, my immigration matters are a bit more official with every country I enter.

I definitely knew about the drug cartel violence happening in Juarez with around 4,000 people being killed since the escalation in 2007, but I was hoping to make a beeline for the border and was counting on crossing the border before night fell. When I got to the border, I was informed that the vehicle importation offices, Banjercito, were 20 kms outside of the city towards the city of Chihuahua. Seeing the vast numbers of armed military and federal police roaming in the back of pickup trucks, I hoped the violence wouldn't flare up as I dashed in and out of the city.

After completing all the required paperwork and turning around to the border, I saw dark rain clouds hovering over the city and decided to wait it out as it was fast moving and I didn't want to be negotiating crazy traffic in the rain. I came across an abandoned Pemex gas station and set about swapping the main jet on the carburetor for the lower elevations that I was going to be riding through on the way back home.


Heading over to cross back into the US at Juarez.


At an abandoned Pemex gas station, changing out my main jet on the carb for the low elevations that I would be in from here back home to Chicago.  


Wrenching on the easily accessible DR and the access to the main jet on the flat slide carb is very convenient for quick changes.  

Dashing across the city to the border as night fell, I noticed stickers on many cars with the words "Amor Por Juarez" which appears to be a campaign hoping to spread peace across the city and heal some wounds. It's definitely a complicated problem, but the drug violence continues as people try to get hold of a bigger piece of the lucrative US drug market. And yes, the border region of Mexico can be a dangerous place, but this shouldn't tarnish your image of the beautiful country that starts 20 miles south of the border. Viva Mehico!

Crossing the border took about two hours, and I was randomly selected for a full inspection by US customs. I realized I had an apple in one of my panniers and saw signs that stated that fresh produce couldn't be brought across the border to limit spreading of diseases, but no fears, as the thorough search didn't find the apple. The border guards were more interested in the bike and my trip and I had to explain to one of them how the bike didn't fall over with all that stuff as I leaned through corners. Shortly, I was back in the good ole' US of A, crossing El Paso at night, in the rain heading to near Las Cruces, to stay with a friend from ADVrider for the night.


Crossing the city of Jaurez at dusk, making my way to the border. Drug related violence has escalated in recent times and the strong gun-wielding military presence around the city is trying to curb that. Jaurez's economy is currently growing at a fast rate and has a bright future, if only they can get a handle on the cartels.


Ahhh, los Estados Unidos, mi casa durante diez anos.  


The bridge crossing the Rio Grande connecting Jaurez to El Paso.


Being 1 of the 60,000 people crossing at this border daily and being a foreigner, there's always some hesitation when crossing into the US and I triple check to make sure all my papers are in order. I was surprised, they didn't even finger print or take my photo this time.

I sent a message to Kerry from advrider.com as he had posted in the Tent Space list that he was willing to house passing travelers for the night. He rides a Kawasaki KLR650 along with other dirt bikes and is an avid off-roader in the New Mexican desert, along with his daughter who enjoys dirt bikes, as well. Kerry is retired from a career with the Border Patrol and along with his wife, is hoping to travel more in the future.

[Jammin]

Day 16-17 / Saturday-Sunday, September 12-13 2009

The journey back had begun, with 1,600 miles to cover over the next two days. Kerry led me out of town and pointed me in the right direction. I had hoped to visit White Sands National Monument with surreal scenery of white sand dunes, but it required at least half an hour and I had to keep up my overall average speed to make it through Texas and Oklahoma by the end of the day, so I skipped it. I went through Roswell, the famous UFO town, but didn't see that many alien references and it looked like any other small city.


Spending the night at Kerry's (from ADV's Tent Space List) south of Las Cruces, NM.


It's always good to connect with other ADVers. Kerry, riding a KLR650 is hoping to ride the CDR at some point. He escorted me to the correct highway leading out of town and northeast towards Chicago.


Crossing over the Sacramento Mountains and the Lincoln National Forest, the birthplace of Smokey Bear. These would be the last mountains I see as it was flat plains from here on east.


Passing through Roswell and this was all I could see of its alien fame. I didn't even find a welcome sign.

Trying to keep the journey interesting through the flat plains, I passed by Blackwater Draw, near the town of Clovis. This is an archeological site where evidence was found of early human tools that were used to hunt mammoth and sabertooth cat before the last Ice Age (Pleistocene) ended. This site is also considered a good model of Clovis Culture as cultural progression can be studied through the various sedimentary layers of the rock.

A bit further north, into the Texas Panhandle, I swung by Cadillac Ranch outside Amarillo. Seeing the line of tailfin Caddys half-buried in the ground sure makes for an interesting picture. It was dreamed up as a fun art statement and ended up having a life of its own. The cars were entombed in concrete nose first at the same angle of the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egpyt. They're meant to symbolize the great American Dream, evoking an image of driving a Cadillac on the open highways and being successful. And thanks be to these great roads of America, making motorcycle dreams come true.

As I entered Oklahoma, the ride turned wet and it didn't stop raining through the whole state. It was pretty heavy at times, but my rain gear was holding up. I had to get as close to the eastern edge of the state so that I could get to Chicago by the next evening. Approaching midnight, I made it near Fort Smith, Arkansas having covered 830 miles.

In the morning, the weather report showed the depression hanging over Arkansas, so I headed north into Missouri and made my way northeast to Chicago. My time spent in the wilderness and on the road had come to an end and it was time to head back into modern urban civilization.


Passing through Blackwater Draw near Clovis, NM, the archaeological site where Clovis remains are being dug up. These were the first people to inhabit North America, around 13,000 years ago, even before the Native Americans. Their disappearance is still a mystery and research is ongoing.  


Swinging by Cadillac Ranch, west of Amarillo, TX on I-40. It's an art installation depicting tail fin Caddys from the 50's.


On the last leg of the journey, heading north to Chicago. A fantastic two weeks out on the road and in the forests of the Rocky Mountains along the Continental Divide. A superb ride.

[Jammin]

Epilogue

Pulling into my garage after a successful two weeks out on the road, I patted sanDRina as I lubed up her chain and was pleased to see she made it through with no problems. Me, on the other hand came away with a sprained ankle, a minor hiccup in a truly enriching experience of traveling through beautiful remote lands.

Besides the fantastic time spent twistying up and down mountains and traversing deserts, I was thrilled to soak up all the historical artifacts of America's discovery of the West. Even with how well developed America is today, with interstates crisscrossing through remote lands, it's reassuring to know connections to the past are still strong if one ventures a few feet away from modern civilization.

I have to give big thanks to Mark Sampson for putting together the GPS route and pioneering the path for all us who have ridden the Continental Divide Ride. It truly is one of the great motorcycle rides in the world, taking you 2,000 miles from border to border, along the spine of America, bringing you in touch with beautiful natural environments where you can connect with your surroundings.

This ride was also a dry run before a bigger trip heading all the way south through the Americas. I had to make sure the bike would be a reliable and trustworthy companion, as she was. After my snafu up in Alaska last year, friends and strangers derided me for choosing a Suzuki DR650 for partaking in such trips and probably reveled in auDRey's demise. Against all their words, I picked an even older DR650 to show the trust I have in this motorcycle's design and I felt exonerated as I rolled up to my garage and turned off the key. sanDRina was setup very well by her previous owner and he was glad to know she would be riding to far away places.

I also tested new gear, such as my Catoma Twist tent, which worked flawlessly and met my requirements of being light-weight, easy to setup, free standing and providing shelter for all my belongings. My cold weather sleeping setup also got a check mark as I didn't shiver a single night through this trip, even though the temps dropped near freezing, unlike last year going to Alaska. The setup consists of my thin down sleeping bag, with a silk sleeping bag liner and an aluminum emergency blanket bag. I had to sleep with ear plugs in as it was quite noisy like a candy wrapper, but I was used to that from my previous trips.

My water filter, the LifeSaver bottle also worked great, filtering water from streams and questionable water sources, providing me adequate amounts of clean drinking water. I was glad to see that more ambitious cooking than simply heating up precooked food was possible and enjoyable.

Not on the test agenda, but glad I could accomplish it was being able to pick up my bike when she fell over. Weighing maybe close to 500 lbs loaded, it's good to know she can be roused up when she decides to take a nap.

With my injury, I guess I could say something always seems to go wrong on my trips, but that would be simply making a story out of unrelated incidents. I'm thankful it wasn't anything more serious and I attribute that to the safety gear of my torsion resistant and stiff motocross boots. They're bulky, but proved themselves valuable.

Of course, all my incidents are mistakes of my own doing, but hey, we're a fallible species and we wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for all those mistakes made by our ancestors as they discovered different aspects of life. With every mistake comes a lesson to be learned and I learned to always respect tricky downhill sections and use the rear brake liberally


Earlier in the year, lying in bed, with metal staples holding together the wounds from my ACL reconstruction surgery, the image of riding my bike through pristine wilderness was a driving force in my recovery. As I moved from two crutches to a cane, I knew in a few months I would be heading west, to the mountains. When I took my first un-aided step, learning how to walk again, I could imagine hiking through trees to get a magnificent view from a cliff. And when I finally swung my leg over a motorcycle and twisted the throttle, I was once again connected to my two wheels of freedom.

Ride on.

[Sputnik]

Damn, this is going to be good.
Damn, I was supposed to be doing some other work this morning.
Damn, I'm hooked on this report now.

You, sir, should be writing books!

[MK96xj]

 

Fantastic report. Thanks for putting the time and details into it

[sprocket]

Man what a ride and report. you might want to call Nat Geo or something, this is heads and tails above some of the crap they put on TV today!

[stromgal]

Wonderful as always, Jay. Thanks for helping those of us with PMS.  

[MadOzodi]

Major Epicness!!!

Fantastic stuff for sure...

[mugwump58]

Inspiring!

[DogBoy]

I thoroughly enjoyed your report. Especially the Colorado sections as I spent most of my summers there growing up. Now, I have to go back on a motorcyle.

I know its a lot of work to add so many pictures and so much narrative so thank you so much for putting in the effort.  

[notarian]

That's was some ride and what a great write up  

Like others have said, its quite time consuming to do a long and thorough report = Thanks for the labour and posting here.  

[veefer800canuck]

Thank you from a rider stranded in wintry Alberta Canada with a BROKEN ankle.  

Oh, but I DID manage to ride past here last year on the way home from Colorado:

[blackdeek2006]

Great, another Jammin report.     Now i'm sucked in.  His first report through Alaska got me to do my first trip and now this.  And i have a ton of work to do today.  Guess i'll have to read it in bits and pieces when i can divert my eyes away from work.  

Just a quick scroll through and I can tell its going to be great    keep up the good reports and excellent rides Jammin!