Dispatch 2: TransAmerica Trail

By Carla King, Motorcycle Misadventures

Day two was an easy ride along smooth jeep roads in the Cototi-Westcliffe-Rosita area adjacent to the 100-mile-long Sangre de Cristo Mountain Range and the Arkansas River.

In the 1840's, easterners came through this area (called the Frontier Pathway) to settle, creating ranches, farmsteads, trading posts, and stage stops.

We passed through Rosita, an old ghost town with buildings dating back to the 1800s. Sam told me that Westcliffe is packed with bikers at least once each year who come for a well-known motorcycle rally. It's a quaint little town, picturesque, and I imagine that the little hotels and B&B's are booked solid during that time.

The area above Westcliffe is packed with free campsites, if the bikers can get to them -- the flat dirt roads seemed smooth enough to be ridden on street bikes, though Sam says most people would hate it unless they had what you call "agressive dual-sport tires." I remember riding a few roads like this in Italy on the Moto Guzzi California EV 1000 touring roadster, fully loaded with camping and computer gear, and how nervous I was, but the destination down these roads was always worth the trouble, not to mention the scenery. This is where I longed for the Ural sidecar again, which would have handled really well on this kind of terrain.

What's not to like? Rolling hills to valleys that sweep dramatically to distant mountain peaks, decorated by a profusion of wildflowers that was almost obscenely spectacular thanks to July rains after two years of relative drought.

A creek on one side of one mountain was dammed by beavers all the way down, creating neatly cleared, calm little pools. I've never seen one of these critters, but Sam says that if you take a stick out of a dam they'll come within a hour to replace it.

That night we tried to free camp on the trail, but the group got separated until too late so we ended up meeting by the Arkansas River and camping there for the night, enjoying a legal firepit and the sound of water rushing by. Sam grilled hot dogs and the guys inhaled them while Spice (a vegetarian) grilled onions and made portabella mushroom stir-fry for those patient enough to wait, which turned out to be just we two.

"We are going to sissify your trail," joked Spice, as she served up some grilled onions for the already mostly devoured hotdogs. The men harumphed grumpily, but complimented the addition of the sweet onions to the dogs.

After the meal we gathered by the fire. John Clements told the story of how he hit a barbed-wire fence that had, for some unknown reason, been strung across a trail. He landed on the other side just fine (except for a couple of puncture wounds) until his bike landed on top of his (helmeted) head.

Chris and Spice talked about their adventures in South America, I shared some stories about Africa, where they're headed next, and Sam talked about the Mexico-Canada trail he planned on finishing in 2005.

We hit the tents at about 10pm, and woke early to another sunny day of scenic trails and backroads.