Sunflower Saturday

September 6, 2008
Fort Collins CO

Bright and early Saturday morning, we had a quick cup and a half of coffee, donned our leathers and hopped on The Ride.

I don't know what the actual temperature was when we set out at 7:45 am. Suffice it to say, it was dang chilly. I'm guessing it was in the high 40s, low 50s. Trust me, those temps at highway speed make for a significant wind chill.

East was the destination. This [heading east] is unusual for us. We prefer the front range and mountains. But, we thought an already cool day would be too cool for a ride at higher elevations. As it turns out, the first leg of our trip was nearly too cool at a considerably lower elevation. I opted for full fingered driving gloves. I was soon wishing they were leather. Tim did not opt for full-fingered gloves. He regretted that decision a few miles down the road. At the first stop, I adjusted my new leather jacket to close the neck opening. We both tried to thaw our fingers out, made a decision that before the day was out, we would have warmer gloves. Ha! Ride and learn.

Anyway, we had thought it would be interesting to see the Pawnee Grasslands and the Pawnee Buttes. The grasslands bordered the highway, the buttes were 20 or so miles, due north down a dirt road. We passed on the buttes. The grasslands brought to mind a vacation trip with the folks years ago. Mom, our official, brochure collector, map reader and tour guide announced exuberantly that The Petrified Forest was just a few miles out of our way. When we arrived at the park... a desolate, peace of desert in the middle of nowhere - an exasperated Mom said - Well! It's just a bunch of rocks! LOL! I don't know what Mom expected other than what we saw, maybe huge trees still standing in aged splendor. Other than registering her disappointment, I don't remember much about the Petrified Forest. As far as the grasslands go, I think Tim and I envisioned waist high grass undulating in the breeze with buffalo roaming or something like a scene out of Little House on the Prairie. Well! Laura Ingalls wasn't anywhere to be found. The grasslands were just a vast expanse of short stubby grass. We did see a few antelope. And very little else. I think I prefer the fiction. haha!

Hwy 14 between Fort Collins and Sterling is bereft of any civilization to speak of, meaning there was one un-manned gas pump, one closed cafe, one rest stop with a table. The road is dotted with farmsteads and barns, cornfields and sunflowers, silos and defunct farm equipment, much like any remote, rural road anywhere in America. It is a looooong, mostly flat, straight shot. Many of the roads marked as other and not as dirt on the map were indeed - dirt. I guess there are degrees of dirt we did not know about. I've decided if a road is not on the map in the Harley-Davidson Tour Guide - then one must assume it is dirt.

The bright moments along the way were the sunflowers! Some were being cultivated for seed. Some were obviously being grown to attract dove for hunters. But, the vast majority were wild, dotting hillsides and roadsides in a golden blaze. I loved it.

Briggsdale and New Raymer were marked as towns on the map. They are not. They are a cluster of unoccupied farm buildings and grain elevators sitting at dusty crossroads. We pulled off at Briggsdale, beside a closed cafe, to have a sip of coffee, stretch our legs and warm our numb fingers. A lonely dove sitting atop a telephone pole cooed a welcome in the silence of the chill morning.

While we were stopped I asked Tim to snap my chaps... I'll snap your chaps says he, rather lasciviously. Ha! Henceforth we have a new catch-phrase, that I'm sure will catch on much like you-go-girl or blow-me-down or shiver-me-timbers! LOL! Snap-My-Chaps!

The first leg of the trip was about 130 miles. We saw two other bikers, one on a really nice red and white custom, loaded with skull chrome turned off at the Greeley exit as we were heading out. One was having a sip of coffee at the lone picnic table. We would have missed the table if not for seeing the bike. He gave us a friendly biker-wave as we went roaring by.

I didn't take pictures between Fort Collins and Sterling. It was too cold and I likely would have fumbled the camera in gloves. Nope - you didn't miss anything.

By the time we got to Sterling, we were ready for hot coffee, eggs and a seat to warm chapped butt cheeks. We looked for a cafe but finally found breakfast at The Village Inn which is chain restaurant/cafe in Colorado similar to an IHOP but the price of a meal and the coffee is better.

There's a biker saying that goes... If the person in the next lane at the stoplight rolls up the window and locks the door, support their view of life by snarling at them. I was sitting in the booth at the Village Inn waiting on Tim to return from the restroom when I noticed an older lady in another booth throwing some rather ungracious looks my way. I smiled in a polite way, like my Momma taught me to do. She snorted and rolled her lips up in distaste. I locked eyes with her for only a moment before she became rather uncomfortable and started fidgeting. Poor lady. She left quickly after that. I hope she was done with her coffee. You know, even with our leathers on and helmet head, we hardly fit the scary biker stereotype. I was glad the scar on my arm was not visible and the one on my eye obscured by my specs. I repeat - poor lady. I told Tim we were scaring the locals. Then I told him about the biker saying. We both bust out with a pirate-like argh and clawed the air like Captain Hook! We decided should the occasion require it, that would be our biker-snarl in the future, although it would be more effective with a black eye-patch. LOL!

We stopped at a Shell station on I-76 outside of Brush, Colorado for gas. While we were standing there, a man in a pickup at the pump just across from us, drove off with the nozzle still attached. OOPS! An ear-piercing yell from another lady standing at another pump, got his attention. He stopped. He brought the nozzle back to the pump and tried to put it back on. Then he carried the nozzle and hose into the store, then brought it back out and sheepishly laid it beside the pump.

We made a mental note that there was a diner attached to the truck stop, with lots of locals filtering in for a meal - always a good sign.

We took the old road (Hwy 34) out of Brush to Fort Morgan and into Greeley. It was a leisurely drive. The traffic wasn't heavy, the sun was out and the day had warmed. We still wore our leather jackets but open-finger gloves were comfortable. The road here was lined with sunflowers. On the way, we saw more pastoral scenes, smelled a couple of feed lots well before we saw them and migrant workers bringing in the potato harvest.

By the time we got to Greeley, it was time for a good stretch of the legs. We found city park one block off of the main drag, downtown Greeley. We stopped, got out the thermos of coffee and walked the park and window-shopped an antique store. The fountain in the park was finished in 1907. It is constructed of rocks bearing fossils. Allegedly there's a petrified snake in one of them, but we never found it. The bronze statue depicting pioneers in the park is called The Promise of the Prairie notated with the following Proverb: Where there is no vision, the people perish. I liked that.

We took Hwy 85 out of Greeley, back to Ault where the trip came full circle.

The view of the mountains on the way back was hazy. They are always a welcome sight. We were tired, but both of us had a great time. After coming out of the leathers and chatting with our neighbor Al, we headed to the army/navy side of the local sporting goods store and found a pair of lined, leather gloves for both of us.

We rounded out the day with burgers and sat a spell with a beer and a warm fire blazing in the chiminea on the patio.

This trip = 246 miles, approximately eight hours.