Here's where Jewell ends.
The weather gods have smiled on us for the most part this winter, providing numerous days when motorcycle riding is not only possible, but demanded. Not this most recent Sunday, but the one before, was one of those days. How could I possibly say no?
Of course, as I mentioned previously, I had ridden to work on Friday, which served as my first February ride on my V-Strom. That was a pretty basic ride, just out Hampden to Kipling, north on Kipling, and then a bit of a zig-zag to the office. The reverse on the return.
Saturday dawned warm (or so I hear) but by the time I was up and out a serious chill had set in. I took my chances and figured I’d ride on Sunday. I knew that had the potential to be a big mistake but in this case the weatherman proved right.
So here it was Sunday and I had a Honda and a Kawasaki needing to be ridden. One of the really tough questions I have to ask myself again and again over the winter is where to ride to. The mountains are out because I’ve found through experience that no matter how nice it is down here on the plains, up there the temperatures will be at least 15 degrees lower and there will be ice in the shadows. On the other hand, just cruising across the prairie is not exactly exciting.
I find it works best if I can come up with a theme or a destination–something other than just wandering. (Although there is a lot to be said for just wandering some times!)
Heading out first on the Honda I settled on going out east on one of the main roads to see just how far I could get before it petered out. Partially by accident, that street happened to be Jewell. East I went, and further east. The amazing thing for me was that as I kept going further and further out, there were subdivisions out there. Who in the world lives that far out? And why? I got out to Powhaton Road and there were houses out there! To each his own, but boy, that’s not my own.
So anyway, just past Powhaton the pavement finally did come to an end. I was on the Honda, though, and while it’s not a dual-sport bike, it is an old go-nearly-anywhere bike. I figured if the gravel wasn’t too bad I’d see how much further I could get.
It turned out the gravel was great. It seemed to have been heavily treated with magnesium chloride and was a good, hard, stable surface, so I kept going. Which ultimately brought me to Watkins Road. I had heard that Watkins Road had been paved fairly recently but I had never been on it, but there I was, at a T-intersection (see photo) and that was the road I had to take. I knew going north would just lead me to Watkins so I headed south. Time to explore.
Not that there was much to explore down that way. I rode a few miles and hit another T-intersection, Quincy Avenue. I turned west and headed back into town. I had found where Jewell went to and Quincy would be a ride for another day. Looking at the map it doesn’t really look like it goes much of anywhere either, but through some twisting and turning I guess you can make it out to Byers. Another day.
One thing of note, however, is that heading west on Quincy I ran across quite a few motorcycles heading east. Wonder where they were going?
Back home I got on the Kawasaki and headed out again. This time I jumped on I-25 going south and quickly decided to get off at the Castle Pines exit and see where that took me. Castle Pines is kind of an amazing place. For one thing, there’s more than one “house” in that area that can appropriately be described as a castle. We’re talking homes where the monthly mortgage payment might easily be more than I make in a year. Kind of incomprehensible.
That road actually doesn’t go very far, however, before it hits Daniels Park Road. I knew at that point that going north would just take me into Highlands Ranch and back to C-470 and I didn’t want to do that so I went south. That brought me out to U.S. 85 of course and I turned right, to head up through Sedalia. By now I was seeing many, many bikes. It was a gorgeous day and this road is a popular motorcycling road year-round. No surprise there.
What was a surprise was when I got to Sedalia and rather than the crowd of bikes at the Sedalia Grill that I expected, there were only one car and two bikes in the parking lot. Did that place close? I didn’t stop to inquire but boy, was that a strange sight. In the meantime, there were probably more bikes than cars on U.S. 85, going both directions.
From there it was just up to C-470, east to I-25, and home. I had just spent the better part of the afternoon out cruising and felt pretty satisfied. Is it any surprise that I love living in Colorado?
Biker Quote for Today
One of the beautiful things about riding solo is the quality of the social experience.
