Day 3 - Million Dollar Day

Day Three began with an uneasy feeling as the bikes, despite being parked under shelter, were saturated with rain residue - what most people refer to as "water."  Kenny, for reasons not quite clear to the rest of us, proceeded to wipe his bike down (FYI, bikers don't just clean their bikes - they either detail them, which takes approximately twelve hours and 18 beers, or they "wipe them down" which is a token effort amounting to something less than an hour - and only six beers).  This act, as all good road warriors know, is a curse tantamount to donning rain gear or washing one's car.  Indeed, as we departed, with deer dashing across the road in search of leftover waffles from the "hot breakfast bar" the rain began to inundate us again.  Bearable, but once we set out in the direction of Colorado the clouds turned the color of a shoe polish beard and lightning resembling Dr. Frankenstein's lab filled the sky.  Fortunately the lightning moved off, but the heavy rain inundated the riders for a period of time, sufficient to soak the newly dried jockey shorts and compression socks.  

That was a small price to pay, however, for today was the ride on the Million Dollar Highway, highway 550, which runs from Durango Colorado to Ouray in some of the most spectacular country imaginable.  At elevations reaching 11,460 feet, the views are some of the most amazing sites that anyone could imagine.  And for a biker, some of the most technical, challenging and outright fun roads anywhere in the world. 

Nothing like a little moisture, extreme twisties, and
a 15 degree slope to make the trip interesting.

The rain was off and on, off when the crew would stop to play tourist, at which point they would shed their rain gear, and on immediately upon setting off from the point where the rain gear had just been shed.  Taking the tight 540 degree turns on moist roads certainly got our attention, but we all managed to stay upright and sustained no incidents. 




A definite highlight along the way was a stop in the old mining town of Silverton.  Silverton sits at 9,308 feet, high enough to make passing gas a challenge to those used to sea level exertions.  We decided that lunch would be an ideal way to address this complication and proceeded to treat ourselves, as any good biker would, to a meal at the local barbeque pit.  And we knew it was a good barbeque place because upon entering we witnessed a guest with a child of approximately two years slung over his shoulder with a bottle of barbeque sauce in his hand. 

This kid loved the BBQ sauce

He was advising the restaurant personnel that it might be advisable to replace the bottle because as he put it "my son liked the sauce so much that he was sucking the sauce out of the nozzle of the bottle."  Really now, can there possibly be a better endorsement of a restaurant's quality? 

As good as the meal was, the best part was saved for last, for the restaurant, somehow based on an event with saw Guy Fieri feature the place on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, saw fit to declare deep fried Twinkies as Guy's favored offering for desert.  Well, of course we needed no more incentive than that to order up a couple of of these tasty treats…..which we regretted immediately upon the first swallow.  Delicious but awful at the same time.