The day started out well. I’d taken a day off riding due to thunderstorms and hail and got on the road rested and ready to go.
There was just one nagging issue. I wanted to go to Mesa Verde National Park, but the forecast had said that if I go and stay a day I’ll have to head out in high winds and another front coming in from the Pacific. The other problem was dodging severe weather getting back into the Dallas area since Oklahoma and Texas had been pounded with severe storms.
I had time to think as I was riding east on I-70. The only down side to making a run for home was the probability of catching up with the back edge of the front currently moving through the mountains, but it would keep me ahead of the one forecast to not be far behind. This would get me past the areas that had high wind forecasts and I was pretty burned out on being thrown all over the road by high wind. Perfect weather wasn’t a reasonable expectation, so I decided to ride into the back edge of the front and get home.
I was lucky until I was about half way across Colorado – that’s when the rain showers started. I must admit that I am not a big fan of riding through rain, but it’s hard to avoid if you’re on an extended road trip. But even though it rained, it was tolerable because it was short lived and everyone was slowing down due to the winding mountain roads being wet.
Past Eagle, CO I rode into solid rain (not happy) and was looking up ahead to see if there was any break in the clouds. I mean looking up since we were steadily heading up and it caught my attention that the pine tress at high elevation had snow on them — what looked like fresh snow. Then I noticed that the sky looked different up there.
By mile marker 167 I was riding in snow. I thought not good, but the roads are just wet. I checked the temperature and it was 42 so I thought it would be okay. By Vail the snow was coming down much harder and the road was starting to get covered. I could no longer check the temperature since the thermometer was covered with snow.
As I headed up toward Vail Pass at around mile marker 185 it was snowing so hard that it was coating the outside of my visor. The inside of the visor was fogging badly — this could have been due to my hyperventilating since I don’t know what my visor would normally do in a snow storm (I’m being sarcastic here).
I’m having thoughts like “This is so not funny” that downgraded to “This is so not good” to seeing the first snow plow and no longer having clear tracks to follow and me thinking “I am so screwed”. It’s the first time I have ever seriously entertained the notion that I was quite likely to go down in the current conditions. Not a happy thought.
It was weird because I was operating on two levels. Part of me was scared to death (and I mean more frightened than I have EVER been on the motorcycle) and part of me was saying “Well, you were stupid enough to get yourself into this so now you have to get yourself out of it.”
Traffic for the most part had slowed down, although there were some people who had to blast by in the left lane. The lanes were no longer visible so I got behind someone who was going a reasonable speed and simply followed their tail lights. I did not feel stopping was an option because the snow was so deep on the sides of the road. Beside, stopping when people can’t see the lane lines didn’t seem like a wise choice.
I figured out that if I opened my visor a couple notches I was able to use my left hand to wipe both the inside and outside simultaneously clearing the snow off the outside and the fog off the inside. I was having to do both constantly.
I passed what I think from the size and shape was the sign for the top of Vail Pass — I don’t know because it was covered with snow. I have since found out Vail pass is at 10,666 feet.
I kept thinking that it HAS to get better, to turn back into rain. But as I descended a little and then started to climb again to Eisenhower Tunnel the snow and road conditions remained the same.
Just to make things even better there is a sign flashing outside the entrance to the tunnel that read “Icy conditions in tunnel”. Perfect. Eisenhower Tunnel is at 11,992 feet.
I ride through the tunnel and start to descend being very careful to not pick up too much speed due to the road conditions. Around Dumont (mile marker 230) the snow changes back to rain, and the roads are wet. At the same time I pass a sign that says “Road Damage” and ride over the worst pavement I have ever been on. And this is saying something considering I’ve been to Labrador where the roads aren’t the best. The pavement was so broken up in huge chunks I once again thought there was no way I was going to be able to navigate through it without going down, but somehow I did.
Fifty miles of sheer terror. I hope that is the longest 50 miles I ever ride. I also hope my motorcycle never sees another snow flake. Or snow plow for that matter. I simply have no idea how I got through since it certainly can’t be attributed to the skill of the rider. I know I have great guardian angels and they worked overtime that day. I am still amazed they could keep me safe.
As hard as it is to believe the skies cleared, the road dried, and I rode down into Denver under sunny skies. Right into 5:00 PM rush hour traffic. Perfect.
I have beaten myself up for getting into that situation, but in all fairness I had ridden over countless (and I do mean countless) passes in California, Nevada, and Utah with most of them being around 8,000 feet and never saw a snow flake. I guess the tail end of that front and the extra 3,000 feet must be what made the difference. I plan to make sure I never get in that situation again.
I got through Denver and was headed south on 25 and stopped for fuel. I don’t know if engines burn less fuel at altitude, but I should have been out of gas and still had a gallon left. I noted the mileage on the receipt and went back to my top case to stash the receipt.
I looked down and the motorcycle’s entire tail section (tail/brake light, license plate holder) was hanging down sideways. When I checked the only thing keeping it attached to the motorcycle was the wires to the light.
My heart almost stopped when the question flashed through my brain “Was my tail light working when I was in the snow storm?” I have no idea.
(to be continued in next post)
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