What If John Denver Was From New Jersey

Me, scaring bears!

 

We stayed at the Hot Springs Inn last night in Ouray. When I asked the nice gal behind the desk how to get to town, she told me about a path by the river. However, she cautioned us to use the main road on the way back as the woods are full of bears. We were carrying a really good smelling pizza back to our room when I remembered the bears.  Hmmmm

I can't recall if I talk about George very much on these blogs. I don't reread them as that is for some other time.  So, what does George do on our trips?
1. Drives the bike
2. Gets gas
3. Studies the map
4. Loads the bike
Occasionally when he is driving he will look intensely at something - which is a signal that I should take a picture. I usually already have. We don't have a lot of conversations. One might go like this: Me: Why did you fall in love with me?  George: Because you were sweet. ( I wasn't ) Me: What's the men's bathroom like? George: I don't know.  Me: What do you think about when you ride? George: Put  a cork in it woman.  No, George isn't a great conversationalist, but he holds my hand as we walk through these little sweet towns, and I massage his tired muscles as he flies us through the air to our next adventure.

It is difficult to explain today's terrain. In less then an hour we had ridden through red rock, wall like mountains, tree filled mountains, and ever changing weather conditions. We were rained on, it was freezing, sunny, and very warm. It took us about eight hours to get from Ouray to Glenwood Springs.

We happily checked in, spent time doing wash cause we were desperate, and then we hit the pools. I was almost afraid I had exaggerated how much we enjoyed them, but I didn't. The magic is still here. In fact George is sleeping like a giant snoring baby right now due to our swim.

The only thing missing is our family and friends.
Jenson