3 April 2005
David Lawrence
186 S Bear Swamp Rd
Middlesex VT 05602
[email protected]
Editorial Office
Vreeke & Associates Inc
250 E Easy St, Ste 3
Simi Valley CA 93065
Dear Editor:
I've been quite behind on my reading, but finally caught up
with the Honda Red Rider from May/June of 2004. In it,
Clement Salvadori outlines a few different loops, including
one that ran along the eastern Rockies northwest of Denver.
What jumped out at me in this particular loop was the comment,
"If you are of the dual-sport mind, an interesting dirt road
runs above the [Moffat railroad] tunnel over Rollins Pass,
from portal to portal."
Actually the road doesn't quite run from portal to portal. On
the eastern side of the Continental Divide, the road goes
through the Needle's Eye Tunnel, or used to at least. One
summer day back in 1990 the tunnel collapsed and has been
closed to vehicle traffic since then. Perhaps it is feasible
to go around the tunnel on a dual sport bike; from photographs
it does look like this may be the case. Still, it isn't quite
the same as just saying that a road goes from portal to portal.
The real motivation for me writing is that to the best of my
knowledge, I was the last vehicle to travel through that
tunnel, and I did so on a motorcycle. When I was 22 I took my
first major cross-country bike trip from Troy, NY, to Boulder,
CO, to join a bunch of motorcycle geeks I'd met on the
Internet through the Usenet newsgroup rec.motorcycles and its
parody biker gang, the Denizens of Doom. The ostensible
reason for this trip was the Assault on Rollins Pass. Seems
one local with a Honda Interceptor had declared he would take
it over the 4wd-only jeep road and been challenged by another
member to prove it. This local bet turned into an international
event, with a few dozen riders coming all around the US and
Canada to take part.
As for me, this predated my getting the Honda religion. I had
an unfaired Suzuki GS700E at the time. (Three liter bike CBRs
and a VFR800 have followed.) Try not to let that tarnish the
story, though; it was my first bike, and a fine bike that
initiated my love of riding.
On the appointed day of the ride, I was a bit too exuberant
and while whooping it up jumping across the water bars that
frequently stretched along the road on the ascent from the
east, I hit a rock that sent me end-over-end and split wide
the side of my engine. I was ok, but the bike wasn't going to
be usable for a couple of weeks as a new part had to be
shipped from a salvage yard in Florida.
When finally the bike was ridable again, I was determined to
accomplish the task for which I'd come to Colorado before I
left for home. Unfortunately I mistimed things and got a later
than anticipated start and didn't make it to the tunnel until
after sunset. Young and foolhardy (as opposed to the way I am
now, old and foolhardy) I pressed on through the tunnel and
struggled my way up the 4wd jeep section to the summit.
Triumphantly I put the bike directly in front of the sign for
the Continental Divide and walked back a couple dozen feet to
take a photo of it there, turning around just in time to watch
it fall to the ground. I had neglected to deploy the
sidestand. There was something poetic about that all, but
I still haven't determined exactly what the cosmic symbolism was.
It then being well after dark, I followed the road down to
Winterpark and then continued essentially along the rest of
Clement's route to eventually make it back to Boulder. It was
quite the adventure.
The next day I was on the road back to Troy. When I returned,
I heard the news ... Needle's Eye had collapsed. Though I
have no concrete proof I was absolutely the last vehicle to go
through the tunnel, the likelihood is high. It was after dark
on a weekday evening, and that area is not one that got any
kind of normal traffic at that hour. The tunnel reportedly
collapsed near dawn the next day.
Oh, the fellow with the Interceptor ... he won his bet.
Now that I've finished my tale I see that it is quite plainly
too long to be useful for the Posted Note column, but thought
you might be interested to read of the memories Clement's
column brought back. (As an aside, the introduction for that
article was a bit peculiar for a motorcycle enthusiast
magazine, extolling the virtues of riding. We already KNOW
the virtues of riding. Perhaps it would have been better as
an op-ed piece for the New York Times.)
Sincerely,
David C Lawrence