East vs. West

This has been a strange year. I've moved around a lot in my lifetime, but never across time zones. Never to places that are so radically different. Sure, the way people talk in Georgia is much different than a New Englander. The climate is warmer down south. You can tell you're getting up there in latitude when biscuits start giving way to toast. I never realized how insignificant these variances were until I moved across the country.

I thought moving from New Hampshire to the middle of the Colorado Rocky Mountains wouldn't be that drastic. I also thought that most places in the United States were able to keep their Interstates open except under some extremely rare conditions. I thought most places made some sort of effort to deliver mail every day (except Sunday) and would use snowplows when the fluffy white stuff fell. Yeah... No. It was a winter where everyone said, "This is really bad. We haven't had this much snow in years..." Was it that bad? I don't know. I have no frame of reference. I'm not sure if I-70 gets closed only once a week rather than every other day in a "normal" winter. I have issues with not being able to go where I want to go, when I want to go there, so I moved down to the Front Range, about 15 miles north of Denver.

Today, October 25th, was a beautiful day for a ride. While there have been a couple of chilly days, it didn't seem surprising that riding for most of the day was quite comfortable. Some people tried to say it isn't typical, but last winter, when I-70 was open and I was able to make it to the Front Range, I was riding during months that you'd never dream of riding back in New Hampshire. So is this incredible autumn weather really that unusual?

Of course, with autumn here, leaves are an issue. I always enjoyed the fall colors in New Hampshire and Vermont, but it was more of a hassle with all the tourists clogging up our local roads. It isn't just the colors; there aren't a lot of trees here. On one hand, you can see forever. This is really cool when it comes to thunder storms, fireworks, and the lights spread out before you at night. However, I've found that I miss the smell of wet moldy leaves. That's autumn. You get a cold snap, the leaves turn, it's beautiful for a few days or a week, it rains real hard, all the leaves fall off, and you have wet moldy leaves on the ground. That's how you know that Halloween is almost here, that the time is going to change soon, that you need to start thinking about Christmas. All I have here is everyone's word that winter is coming. You can look to the west and see the snow in the mountains, but it was still perfect riding weather down here. It's hard to believe that the holidays are almost upon us.

I should probably mention that the moldy leaf discussion took place over a serving of Rocky Mountain Oysters at Bruce's Bar in Severance, Colorado. The place was closed for a little more than a year, but recently reopened. I can't say that I was excited about going there. Certainly we've heard of Rocky Mountain Oysters back east, but nobody actually eats those things, do they? Yes, they do. Regularly. It's normal bar food out here, like ordering hot wings or chicken strips. I never had any intention of eating any myself, but I felt I'd rather take the chance than have anyone think I was scared. If they were really good, I'd eat them again. They weren't bad, but I didn't find them to be all that spectacular either.

Meandering back home along the back roads towards Lyons, we came upon a sharp corner with a bit of a grade. I saw enough to know that a vehicle was coming the other way. Next thing I knew, there were large objects careening across the road with stuff flying everywhere. I was sure a car had rolled in the corner and it was going to require some manuevering to stay safe. Fortunately is was only three or four bales of hay that had flown off a flatbed truck, and it was easy to get around the mess. Had we been a few seconds further along, we'd have had the pleasure of trying to maintain an upright position while taking a huge bale of hay in the chest. That would have been tricky.

Tomorrow is supposed to be nice too. I have no idea when riding season is over, but there's no rush.