Another mountain pass after you wake up kind of day. This would be Boreas pass at 11,482 feet, one of the higher ones on the route. I quietly rolled the bike out of the hostel and made my way out of town, keeping a keen eye out for a breakfast place that was open. Right near where I would get on the dirt road, leading up to the pass I saw a place called “The Blue Moose” that was just opening their doors. Probably the best breakfast I have had so far! Now I just needed to digest some of that delicious food for the push up Boreas pass.
The pass itself was relatively easy. The grade wasn’t bad and didn’t change much the entire time. I was feeling good. I caught up to Steve who I met at Brush Mountain Lodge before Steamboat. Steve is from Houston, and only one year junior from me. I still hold the age record based on who I have met. Not that I asked everyone‘a age, but I didn’t have to. A bit later Wes from Tasmania pulled by me. I had stayed with him in the Strawberry shelter on Union pass on Wyoming. It seems he had spent a few extra days in Steamboat and Breckenridge having a good time with local riders. He technically could have been done with the ride a while ago. I like his attitude and he said he was also staying in Hartsel. I told him to keep his pace and that I would see him later.
Breckenridge below
More water for those hot tubs.
Early water tower, and maybe a community hot tub?
I kept pushing the pace, and in practically no time I was at the summit. What a great feeling. There was a crew working on what looked like an old log building. The sign said they were restoring it using the original techniques and tools back when it was first built. Nice! Steve eventually came up the summit and we took turns of pics at the summit sign.
Steve
I started the descent down the other side into what would be the South Park basin, and eventually the town of Hartsel in the middle. Basically the Colorado version of Wyoming’s Great Basin, but with more people and structures. The road surface down Boreas pass was a bit more chunky going down than coming up. Steve quickly caught up to me and passed me going down. Either he has more of a death wish, or that front suspension fork of his is making a big difference. My bike is completely rigid with no suspension, which has really not been a constraint for me on the trip so far. Reliable, strong, and light works for me. No regrets.
The downhill stopped in the town of Como and it was pretty much hilly gravel road the rest of the way to Hartsel. Oh, and we suddenly had a head wind too. I caught up to Steve again who said he was not having fun with the wind. No, those suspension forks don’t help with that.
Herd of Buffaloes
Also, there has a distinct haze in the air from what was probably forest fires somewhere out west. Linda had mentioned that it was smokey in Fort Collins as well. Pretty amazing that I have not seen more of that so far. It has been extremely dry in the west, and the last time I had rain on the trip was almost a month ago. The fire danger meter signs in the National Forests all have the arrow pegged at the “Extreme” level
The gravel road was a mixture of loose, rocky, and washboards. You were constantly weaving across the road looking for the smoothest path through it. There was occasional traffic that would churn up big dust clouds as they went by. The last 4 miles into Hartsel was a zigzag to avoid having to ride on highway 24 for very long, but there was still a mile stretch where you had to. Glad I had my bright blinking light on and warning beacon in the back. We have driven this road many times when we lived in Colorado Springs in the 1980’s. There was basically nobody on that road back then. Not so now..
Rode by the Hartsel lodge and ranch which is a relatively new place that mainly caters to more affluent fly fishermen and others. They offer a place for GDMBR bikers to camp and take a shower. You would still have to go to Hartsel for food & drink. Might be an option, since the camp option in Hartsel is limited to a blighted area behind the bar. It was the same when I did the TransAm, and I decided at the time to skip that and ride an extra 18 miles to the town of Fairplay. I was going north then, so not an option on this trip.
I pulled into Hartsel and Wes was there eating this huge Fettuccine Alfredo dish with chicken. He can sure put it down being such a small, skinny guy. Not much has changed since I was there in Hartsel last, although they painted over the “Hartsel Jail” sign. It is still an abandoned building. They did have a new eating establishment next to the bar & grill place. They must have modified an abandoned house for it. I did see a message on the GDMBR forum to not drink the tap water in Hartsel, and only use bottled water. The only place they sell that is in the gas station down the street. I went over there to pickup a cold chocolate milk and water, and asked the attendant about the tap water situation. She said it was something to do with a volcanic caldera and that sulfur and uranium was contaminating the ground water. I then asked when this happened. “Oh, it has been like that for a while”, she replied. 😳. That does explain a lot about this town..
Before..
After..
Steve eventually pulled into town, and the three of us debated camping options for tonight. The place behind the bar didn’t look very appealing, so I called the Hartsel ranch. Debbie was very nice, but said a corporate outfit had rented out the ranch until Sunday, and they had a policy to not allow bikers to stay there at the same time. I could definitely understand that, given they were probably paying a lot to stay there and having us dirty biker trash there with our tents. Oh well, it was either the yard behind the bar or move on down the road and wild camp somewhere. We opted to stay and drink an extra beer before bedtime to blunt out the late noise from the bar. 🥴
Biker trash in the junk yard
”Honey, it looks like a deal!”
Luckily we had set up our tents in the limited space when two more riders showed up. It was a father/son duo from Nebraska who were just planning to do the section from Steamboat to Salida. We made a bit more room for their tents, but they had to be closer to those wonderful portapotties. 😷. We had a nice dinner together at the “restaurant” next door and a few beers. It was getting dark and our campsite didn’t look as bad as it had in daylight. My only regret is that I forgot to bring earplugs since there was music playing and folks yapping until late at night only 30 yards away.
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