Would you like to go to Colorado?

A few months back, Julie's sister Cheryl proposed a sibling reunion at their brother Johnny's house in the high plains near Denver, and with sister Jacque, consensus was reached to meet over the 4th of July, so we could freely shoot fireworks on his ten acres.

Megas Estate in Elizabeth

Devastating Colorado wildfires the week before our flights made a mockery of the bottle rocket plans, but fortunately firefighters had turned the tide by the time we arrived in Colorado Springs.  Other than the scent of burning wood similar to that wafting from Winter Park fireplaces in winter and an L.A.-like haze, everything seemed normal.  Fireworks, however, were banned for the season.

Arriving close to midnight, Julie and I stayed a night at The Academy Hotel in Colorado Springs, a pleasant place with free internet and breakfast.  While the staff was friendly, the food at the buffet had something of a freezer-burn flavor to most items, including, inexplicably, the freshly prepared omelets. The massive, high-roofed lobby/lounge area was reminiscent of the best ski resorts and Disney's Grand Californian.  It proved to be a wonderful place to have a late night local beer before bed as well as breakfast the next morning. As usual, we booked this great property using the simple hotel booking engine at http://www.CruisePlanners1.com, which has the guaranteed lowest price for short stays anywhere. In this case, it was $99 for our one night stay.

We headed to Johnny's house on the morning of the 4th.  Cheryl and her 23 year-old son Jered were there when we arrived, while Jacque and her husband Mike came later in the day.  Without our kids, who had to work, it felt odd, but we made the most of our time.  John, his wife Toren and her mother Jo combined to grill a great shish kebob meal, while their teen-aged kids Brett, Bree and Brad kept it lively, demonstrating some BMX biking skills in the yard before dinner.  I really enjoyed playing ping pong with Jered and Brett in the unfinished basement where the Megas clan rides out the occasional tornado.

Mike on Bike at Megas International Motocross Track

After dinner, the kids rode their motorcycles on the dirt track John had built in exchange for Brett promising to live at home while attending college.  From the distant balcony, they looked like good riders, but when we got close, the jumps became super impressive.  My brother-in-law Mike, who used to race motocross, took some laps, but I decided to skip this event.  I rode mini-bikes with my friend Kevin when I was about 14, and taking horrific spills was always a lot of laughs.  In fact, my friend Crabtree and I used to ride his sister Kathy's Schwinn Stingray into board strategically placed around the back of my Mom's garage to simulate horrific crashes when we were about that same age. 

Anytime I've ridden a motorcycle, however, I have a dangerous aversion to leaning on turns, wanting my head and body to remain perpendicular to the ground.  Having that inclination worked well carrying the football in pickup games on the grassy fields of Boos School, but it can be hazardous on a motorcycle. 

The last time I rode a motorcycle I must have been 21, and my friend Sam let me take his 350 for a spin.  I loved the power of the acceleration and the feel of the air through my hair (yeah, I was too dumb to wear a helmet).  Everything was fine when I stopped at corners to turn, but at one point the road took a banana curve, and my inclination for vertical equilibrium overcame my lessons to remain physically inclined on curves. 

If you've ridden a motorcycle, you know what happens when you straighten up early on even a moderate speed curve.  The bike suddenly shot off in a straight line and headed at a parked car.  I don't know if my brain was working well enough to fully comprehend what I saw ahead of me and rationally decide that because the parked clunker had no rear window that I could duck to avoid smashing my face into a hard surface by aiming my front tire directly at the license plate as I braked, but that's what I did.  I hit the license plate and flew through the rear window into a somewhat padded landing against the front seats.  Overall, it was a crash that would have made Crabtree and me laugh in my Mom's garage, but there was the small matter of it being in a somewhat more real setting. 

Brad, Bree, John, Brett, Jered and Clearwater Rafting guide

Fortunately again, the damage to Sam's motorcycle was minimal, and the $100 I gave him more than covered it, especially when he sold it for the same $350 he was asking before the crash on my test drive.  The parked car was obviously already in need of being towed away before I hit it, so at first I didn't worry about it, but later that night, it started bothering me.  I went back over there and found the owner to confess what I'd done.  He said it was a wreck already and laughed when I told him what happened, but I gave him $50 anyway, which he at first didn't want to accept.  I don't think in these sue-happy times that the same happy ending would ensue, and in fact my sister-in-law Toren, anticipating a sue-happy world, requires anyone riding on their track to sign a waiver. 

Back hoes had carved out a few acres on their spread to be a genuine motocross track, so such precaution is certainly justified, especially for adolescent boys whose parents need to be in agreement of taking the risks.  I had thought I might ride a little on level ground, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I may not be as unbreakable as I was 40 years ago.  My Granddaddy was doing fine into his eighties until he got first kicked by a cow loading her on his truck and then in a car accident (with his nurse driving because everyone thought he had gotten too old to be behind the wheel).  It was being off his feet for extended time that really killed him more than old age.  Anyway, I didn't ride during the trip, and other than a short trip from the track to the barn behind her brother Johnny on his bike, neither did Julie, and she was an offroad fanatic at one point in her life.

Inverness Resort Golf Course

That night, we headed to the Inverness, our home for the duration of the trip, and we watched fireworks to full orchestration on PBS.  The Inverness is a deluxe golf resort, selected because my brother-in-law Mike is a hardcore golfer who mainlines on Ping and Taylor Made.  The price through the easy-to-use B.E.A.C.H. at CruisePlanners1.com was $99 per night. The Inverness featured two great lounges.  At the sophisticated Fireside Lounge, we enjoyed a lovely view of the golf course one evening with Julie's friend Ardel, who she worked with for years at CSC.   A local draft, Milk Stout Nitro, proved to be an excellent Colorado brew that's equal to drinking Guinness in Ireland, IMHO.

On our last night, we headed down with the whole crew to the Spotted Dog, a pub located one floor below the Fireside Lounge.  With three pool tables, two dart boards, foosball and table shuffleboard, we all shared in the fun.  In between our flights in and out, we had a good time rafting, hiking, eating and hanging out.