Rocky Mountain National Forest

After watching some of the finals of an archery competition going on here in Colorado Springs, I was feeling restless and decided I needed a road trip. I threw a bag on the back of my Harley, tanked up and headed for Rocky Mountain National Forest about 140 miles up Interstate 25.

As my time in Colorado gets shorter, I'm trying to see and do all the things in Colorado that I would regret not doing while living here. Visiting Estes Park and Rocky Mtn Natl Forest were on that list!

After a 2.5 hour ride in the wondrous heat, I spent the night in Estes Park at a very average hotel. The next morning, I donned leather chaps and my winter-weight leather coat and took off for the National Park. For a mere $10 entry fee, I cruised Hwy 34, AKA Trail Ridge Road. At a peak elevation of 12,183 feet, Trail Ridge Road is the highest major highway in North America. Parts of the ride were above treeline in what's known as alpine tundra. Trees may not grow above 11,000 feet, but the yellow-bellied marmot you see at the bottom of this picture was enjoying the sunny day! Click on the picture to enlarge.

It shouldn't be a surprise for those of you who follow my random life, but while taking in the view at this marmot speckled tundra, I met a couple on a Harley from just outside of Baton Rouge! I can't remember their names for the life of me, but we stayed together for a couple of scenic lookouts before parting ways. They asked me questions about living in this region as we sat at a mobile traffic light at 12,000 feet. The road was down to a one-lane rock and dirt path due to winter weather and a portable traffic light had been placed there to signal which direction had right of way!


All along the ride, there were pull-offs to take in amazing scenery. There were tons of bikes out on the road, both motorized and self-propelled! Most of the motorbikes were on the southern trek back home after a week spent in Sturgis, SD for the bike rally. Although I passed quite a few people on the interstate on bikes loaded down with sleeping gear and duffel bags, quite a few folks from more far-flung places trailered their bikes. Just as the couple from Baton Rouge had done, they were stopping along the way and downloading their bikes to ride through scenic areas of the country on their way back home.


I've had my bike now for 14 months and have over 8000 miles on it, most of it mountain riding. Although the scenery was breathtaking, the same could be said for the scenery on most of the mountain rides I've done here in Colorado and South Dakota. What really takes my breath away though is when I stumble upon a mountain lake. On a clear day, the water is a deepest color of blue I've not seen many times in my life. My bike is parked in front of the small lake (a pond really by Louisiana standards) right next to the sign marking Milner Pass (10,758 feet). I crossed the Continental Divide twice on this trip- once from east to west over Milner Pass and once from west back to east over Berthoud Pass. I was so thankful that it was a warm day and that the leathers I was wearing was enough to keep me warm as I rode 2 miles above sea level.


Right before leaving the park, I stopped at a scenic overlook manned by a forest ranger. I had heard about why so many trees were dying in the forests around Colorado, but I wanted to get the story straight from an expert. See all that brown in this picture? That's trees and it's supposed to be green like the surrounding trees. Colorado is in the midst of a Mountain Pine Beetle attack. The life span of the beetles is only a year, but they can come back year after year. I asked the ranger if this was really harmful to the forest or if this was mother nature's way of controlling forest growth. He said that this is one of the worst invasions in recent memory, but that these forests are so dense that it will mostly serve to prune out the slow-growers and diseased trees. It's hard to believe that the forests around Colorado will carry on after seeing so many brown trees all along the mountain range.