Friday 20th July

Well, it's been a funny sort of day!

Despite the generally crappy nature of the motel and it's shit WiFi and its (we thought) high price,  I slept really well, having gone to bed comparatively early. I woke up with my alarm at 07.30, s,s, but no shave. I'd already heard Kevin moving about next door and by the time I got out of my room he was trying to fix his phone charger - unsuccessfully, unfortunately. This means he's gpsless and I can't see mine very well without my spacks, which I don't like to wear when riding :)


Kev asked the concierge (I'm being very polite) where we could find a healthy breakfast, as the little fat bloke is concerned about putting on weight. She said either the bakers, a block up the main drag, or the market (four miles away) if he wanted fruit. We asked the baker, a very jolly man named Ian, what breakfast stuff he did, a, and both went with his breakfast burrito. OMG, it would last a mountaineer all day, let alone a fat geezer just sitting on a bike. 

They are huge - scrambled egg, cheese, chunks of ham and maybe pork, sausage and potatoes, all covered in a green chilli sauce and topped with grated cheese. God knows how many calories it contained.

 Granby Main Drag

These are the flowers where Kev didn't get a pic of the Hummingbird

We managed to get through the door and heave a leg over the bikes, ready to roll south to Silverthorne. We started off on RT 40, which was a really nice road; relaxed, sweepy bends nice cool temperature, on the way to Kremmling. 

My first US beaver shot

The 9 from Kremling to Silverthorne was a superb road, enough happening to keep you interested and awake, but with constant eyefuls of absolutely stunning scenery. For several miles it was like riding down a single road with the Pyrenees on your left and the Alps to your right. Stunning! 

I knew that Colorado was supposed to be impressive, but the little bits I'd seen really caused an impression. I was champing at the bit to get to Silverthorne, which was as far as we'd planned, and work out today's itinerary. Oh, somewhere along the way, we got our first sight of this trip of American Beaver. I took a photo, of course!


I'd mentioned that on Monday, in Omaha, my front brake freaked out when I'd had to stop sharpish, binding on then freeing off but with very little feel or power for some while after. I forgot to say that it did the same up in the mountains, yesterday, making me have to stop and let it cool off before I could ride any further.

Gaskets

On the road this morning, Kev's front master-cylinder was leaking fluid from the top and maybe elsewhere, coating his hand in brake fluid. We decided to investigate once we reached Silverthorne, hoping to find a chop shop or indy who may have held some Shovel parts.

On reaching Silverthorne, we pulled into a gas station where there were some Harley riders who'd passed us when we were taking photos of a lake. They wanted to chat about our bikes and journey. They also wanted to be helpful regarding finding parts, but didn't really have much idea. Still, it was nice of them to care. We didn't know what fluid the bikes had in them, but thought it looked a bit mauve so was probably DOT 5. Mine had hardly any fluid and both had shagged diaphragm gaskets. It seemed  that Kev's was coating stuff in more fluid than just through the hole in the diaphragm,so we wanted to source gaskets and a couple of master cylinder repair kits, because it seems likely that m/c seals would be the cause of my fluid loss, too.


The only bike shop in town was a Yamaha dealer, so we bought some fluid from him but he wasn't able to help us any further, just letting us know that there were no Harley dealers in the vicinity. While there, we met the guy who owns Patriot Harley Davidson, just outside Washington. He told us there were several dealers around Denver, one in Glenwood Springs and one in Colorado Springs. We doubted if a dealer would even stock the gaskets, though, let alone a master cylinder overhaul kit. We didn't want to ride miles to somewhere not to be able to find what we needed, sio we decided to go to McDonald's for WiFi and to start searching the net for possible suitable shops. 

That tiny guy got out of that big truck

We made several calls to places that were within a hundred miles but nobody stocked what we needed; if they even knew what a master cylinder repair kit was, let alone a 1979 FLH! 


Eventually, Kev put a post on the forum and within a very short while had a few responses, including an incredible offer from John, Shovelchopper,  to drive parts down if we were really stuck. People also said that the altitude can fuck brakes up. We were also given a few contacts, the first of whom was disconnected, but the second one I called was a result:. 
2 Wheelers Motorcycle Shop, in Denver, had one overhaul kit and several gaskets in stock, but they shut at five and by this time it was half past three. The guy said they'd be open at 8.30 in the morning, as I said I didn't think we'd get there before they shut, it being 70 miles away. 


We decided to head up there, anyway, and if we didn't get there in time tonight, we would find accommodation nearby and  there in the morning. It was 15.45 when we left McDonald's, having been there a good couple of hours with just two coffees each, so we only had an hour and a quarter to try to get there. This situation wqsn't helped when I led the way out of Silverthorne, going away from  I 70, DOH! Having wasted ten minutes we hit the super slab for Denver. My bike was running really strongly, though I had to downshift on a couple of hills to keep it rolling, but Kev's was suffering a bit with the altitude. The SU seemed to be an advantage over the Super E in these circumstances, Kev's bike being 93" compared to my 80.


We had a really good run down that highway, with enough bends that feel like bends at 70 mph and enough traffic to keep you alert. I was enjoying until we hit the outskirts of Denver, several junctions before our exit, when the traffic stopped and then just became stop-start, nose to tail, for the next few miles. When we hit the traffic snarl it looked like we wouldn't make it, but  - just as the sun shines on the righteous - we got there at about four minutes to five. They were open!

Not only were they open, but it was a really good shop:
2 Wheelers M/C Shop, 1433 W. 38th Avenue, Denver, CO, 80211, 303-433-7025, 303-433-0564. 
http://www.2wheelersmc.com/

They say that Americans are overweight? Look at this photo!!!

Arlin Fatland - great shop, dont' mention Politics or the economy!

As soon as they heard us speak, having seen us pull up on Shovels, they offered us a cold one. Arlin Fatland, the proprietor, has been building show winning Shovelheads for years. There was a young guy there who does the leather work on their builds, but I can't remember his name. The whole crew there seemed a really good bunch. We shot the shit for about an hour and enjoyed looking around the shop, which was like Aladdin's Cave to us, even though they said it was half empty because they'd been packing stuff for Sturgis. Arlin insisted we each had one of his Shovelhead tee shirts, which was kind and gave us a poster of himself, too. Since Shell kindly gave us our first tee shirt, we've been doing well.


They recommended the local La Quinta, just a little way down the road and said they'd see us for breakfast at Maya's, a Mexican Diner on the La Quinta lot, if we wanted to join them in the morning. The rooms at La Quinta were a bit steep, for us COBs, but they are great. 

Kev has a double queen and I have a king smoker - with three ashtrays, that's serious smoking!!! We did get 10% seniors' discount - the clerk had seen my ID and obviously didn't feel the need to check Kevin's, the old fart.


So, here we are in Denver, which we had no intention of visiting, but having had a really great day. We might be further from Durango than when we took to the road this morning, but we've had a good adventure.


Post script:
Since writing all the above, we've been to The Roo Bar. 

Despite all the photos on their website, it wasn't like that - well, it may have been, before we got there, but then it was just us Limeys, Brandon, the cool barman, and a couple of Mexicans; Mike the doorman and Roy the cook. 

We had fun though. Not so funny for the Mexican couple in the room next to me, at 02.40, when I kept trying to open their door, because my keycard wouldn't even make a red light on mine. The girl in reception was good and re-programmed my card - Yay, big fun in Denver!


Today's surprise route