St. Francis to Alma

ALMA, Colo. – I left St. Francis about 9 a.m. CDT in thick fog with my emergency flashers on to keep from being run over.

I crossed the border into Colorado about 15 miles later and found myself on a heavily pot-holed highway – big, deep, nasty potholes, the kind that can bend a front wheel rim if you hit one at speed. I crept along in the fog, swerving to miss potholes every 20 feet or so, for another 10 miles where the pavement improved and I suddenly broke out of the fog and into bright sunlight.

Before I left, I dropped in at the motel office for a free cup of coffee and a chat with Chrissy Cook, who with her husband Terrance, owns the place.

The Cooks met in college, did a stint in the Navy together and then came home to Chrissy’s hometown of St. Francis. They bought the motel about four years ago and are in the process of resurrecting it from its former dilapidated state.

Discussing my route from St. Francis to Byers, I lamented that the cafe in Cope that used to serve fabulous pies, is closed.

Chrissy said that and other businesses in Cope and Joes went under because one or more GPS manufacturers apparently removed that segment of U.S. 36 from their mapping software. Consequently, all the traffic that normally would use U.S. 36 gets routed down onto Interstate 70. She said her mother bought a new car that came with GPS that informed her she was not on a road when she drove west on U.S. 36. Could it be that GPS companies actually destroyed the economies of two eastern Colorado towns?

I paused in Cope to photograph the cafe and the gas station down the street where I filled my tank more than once.

I stopped again for gas and a snack at Byers, discovering the Sinclair station there now has pay-at-the-pump. My ride through Denver around to U.S. 285 was uneventful. I caught a few raindrops around Bailey, but stayed dry the rest of the way to the Sinclair station in Fairplay where I phoned Tim Balough and announced my presence in the high country.

I parked at Chateau Balough and we Jeeped down to the South Park Saloon in Alma for a late lunch of burgers and beer.

Now, I’m sitting here on the living room couch, blogging, taking the occasional glance at Hoosier Pass and listening to my ears ring from the lack of oxygen here at 10,640 feet.