Indian Motorcycle Clothes

Motorcycle Touring: Rain In Rocky Mountain National Park

Today is July 4th, Independence Day. I woke up during the night to rain pounding on the tent, groaned, turned over and went back to sleep. I see this morning that the rain did not stop. It has turned to a disgusting, day ruining drizzle. What a gloomy day I have in front of me if it does not stop. At least everything still on my bike is dry. Most of my belongings are either on the picnic table or in my tent with me. I secreted away a paperback book early on and have it just in case a day like today happens and here it is. First of all, I find my sometimes neglected notebook and do all I can do get it up to date. I try to include all the funny and unusual things I have run across during my first month on the road. I talk mostly about the people I have met. How could I ever forget the old guy who biked across the country in the 30's on his Indian motorcycle. He was so proud of himself. His wife had pursed lips while he was bragging about it, but I'll be that 'bad boy' image he had all those years ago was one of the things that attracted her to him, much to her mother's dismay. And she probably warned their daughters against those nasty boys who rode motorcycles today.

Down here in Aspen Glen Campground I can see Long's Peak, one of the fourteeners I hope to climb during this visit and if I am directly on Fall River, so I can hear the water rushing by on its way downhill. We are over 8000 feet here, but I am getting used to the altitude now and am no longer bother by it. That reminds me, I must get my gear from the post office, that same gear I sent to myself way back in Oklahoma so it would be here waiting for me. If the rain would stop, I could get my chores done and check out the latest trail conditions at Long's Peak. It is lessening, but not yet comfortable to drive in. Even the lightest rain hits you like needles when you drive into it. I have a face shield, but that only fogs up, so visibility is awful. Driving in the rain is something I dislike very much. Drivers in cars are less safe in the rain, they cannot see me, they are likely to skid and they throw water up in their wakes much like boats. Rain is not fun for a biker.

I can get some housekeeping chores done in this rain. I gather up my dirty dishes and carry them to the service sink inside the building where the toilets are. These are unheated buildings, many with no showers and if they do have showers, the water is not heated. The National Parks do not offer much in the way of luxury, but the scenery makes up for any discomfort suffered by the camper. We are not allowed to wash dishes at the site. I often do by using a water bucket that I borrow from a fellow camper, using the soapy water and then carrying the dishes to any sink to do the rinsing. We cannot just throw the gray water on the ground as it will pollute and perhaps injure plants and animals. Above all, we must remember that we are the interlopers here, not the animals and plants that live here. And as guests in their house, we must leave it leave no trace that we were here.

I come back to the tent with clean, although wet dishes. The rain is letting up, so maybe I can get to the post office and the laundromat before the day is gone.

I venture out at about 2pm and head for town, the Safeway and the laundry. I feel like an intruder as I see a TV for the first time in a month while waiting for my clothes to wash and dry. I wonder briefly if there is anything going on in the world that I need to know, decide there is not and just daydream through the laundry. A quick run into the grocery store for provisions for dinner and I am back home with clean clothes and food for an uncooked dinner. There will be no fire tonight with everything wet. Tomorrow will be a day for sightseeing.