And entertaining it was.
The road to Cripple Creek is full of curves. First off let me say that I am not a peg dragger. My apologies to those who patiently rode behind me. Like sex, fast in the straight aways, slow in the curves, everybody gets where we are going, at the same time.....
Lots of harley's (of course), some great looking v6 and V8 trikes, a few Valks, and various other bikes. A parade with uniforms marching, wild west guns a-popping, shriner go-carts (one could not make it up the hill so I helped push:huff-puff).
Lots of biker babes:
Editorial: Spandex should have a weight limit!
A few fly-overs by various flying thingies (I was Army 13Fx3 so I know not about flying thingies)
And even a small Pipe band. woo-hoo.
I rode my 'hammer whilst wearing a kilt -once-. That was enough. Wicker chairs and kilts do not mix either but I digress.
We chose not to ride in the Ride from Woodland Park to Cripple Creek.
Did not see any vendor that stood apart from the normal biker stuff but prices seemed to be competitive. I did pick up a "Turn the gas on dummy" flag to hang on the scooter.
Started over to check out the Traveling Wall but the fat lady had different ideas.
Got her running and departed post haste. Bummer. Nothing worse than breaking down in the middle of a large number of harleys.
On the way down the mountain, noticed that at least one rider failed a turn, dunno,
was writing it up.
Sunburned, broke down, and still had to deal with livestock when I got home.
It was an interesting day.
