One third way down Phantom Canyon Rd, borrowed camera
10/8/2011 Lost Burro camp ground to a point 6200ft on Phantom Canyon Road
D58, T 3.75hrs. Av 15.13 total 4005km
I am sitting on my three legged stool compiling this entry, two thirds of the way down Phantom Canyon Rd. It is now 2030hrs. All that can heard are crickets, it is so peaceful and mild.
I needed a campsite on this lonely gravel road that was not visible from the road. Half a dozen were checked but offered little stealth. The last thing I wanted was to stick out like a shit in sugar bowl.
More on that later.
Having erected the palace at the bottom of the valley at Lost Burro camp ground, experience at the Mountain Way, back in Australia told me it would be cool down here. The tarp had been erected to attract the dew away from the tent.
Arising early, it was down indeed fresh.
I made a coffee and boiled oats. Time at home was still respectable so I made a couple of calls.
Having done so, then packing and loading, I spoke with the French family about their plans and offered details of my loop and said orevoure. I headed up the gravel road out of the park, at least 200ft elevation.
The groundperson told me Cripple Creek was3 miles distant, with an 800ft climb thrown in just to remind me this was the Rockies.
Being early I selected a low gear and just took my time. This climb would be rewarded with a sustantial brekky. Yesterdays effort could be felt in the upper thighs, though this soon subsided. My av speed to cripple Creek was 6.8km.
Arriving in Cripple Creek. A woman was asked the whereabouts of a cafe that had wifi. Five minutes later a seat with a power source was located at the Cripple Creek Coffee Est. Great food and service in a unique building.
Five hours later the seat was vacated , having eaten well, consumed copious coffee and iced water whilst compiling a couple journal entries.
Directions to Phantom Canyon Rd were sought and orientated mentally. Cripple Creek is at 10,000ft . Having to turn off to Victor once having climbed out of Cripple Creek, the going got a little easier.
Cripple Ceek was a ghost town, a DA for casinos was approved. The main street now is full of boutique casinos.
Entering an establishment, a dollar note was consumed by the machine of choice,
the credits recieved were then consumed almost as quick. It was a token gesture culminating in a predictable outcome, in a town that survived on its visitors misfortune.
Victor was an old mining town, the most outstanding feature was rust. This town is nothing like I have ever seen. There were metal objects everywhere from a bygone gold mining rush. Sixty thousand people once called Victor and Cipple Creek home.
I stopped, looked at the museum and bought a drink, Victor is at 10000ft. I headed off for Phantom Canyon Road, it heads south down to highway 50 near Penrose and the green pharmacy visited, In 26 miles it drops 4500ft. Gravel is its finish.
The scenery on this road is awe inspiring. Sheer rock cliffs abutt the road on one side and almost vertical drop offs greet you on the other. Construction must have been a considerable task. It was originally constructed for a narrow gauge railway that carried ore down the range from Victor and Cripple Creek.
This was the natural environment in its purest presentation. The burden of my load was unoticed as I free wheeled down this little travelled road, in awe at the rock formations. Sections of severe corrugation in the road were my only reminder that this awe had to be checked at times.
The already worn brake pads will need inspection, post this decent.
A young couple were roadside taking photos, such nice people from Missouri, the young woman was so animated and friendly. I asked them if they had a camera that took XD cards, sure she said, we put my card in its alotted space and some record of this road and its passage through such a beautiful environment was recorded.
She spoke of the Katy Trail and how enjoyable it will be, prior to us exchanging parting comments, of safe travels and having fun while doing so.
The cliffs comprised of fractured rock with some precarious over hangs present. This landscape is vegetated with pine trees growing in the most unhospitable locations.
At one point the road went through a canyon so narrow it was single lane. It was a classic movie ambush site. Ones imagination didn’t have to wonder far to see Native Americans slipping from boulder to boulder above on both sides. Once in, there was no escape.
Stopping at a small rest area with toilets, placards describing the flora and fauna were read. This was Mountain Lion country. Figuring it was to rugged for bears, an easiness about camping in this wilderness was felt.
Finally finding a spot out of site, I man handled the bike from the road down to a dry creek bed.
It was a site that had been frequented previously. Had it not been for two old sleeping bags, a rock star rating would have applied. The scrots were ideal as padding beneath the tent. This unexpected provision upgraded the site to at least three stars. The ground was pretty much rock. The tent being almost free standing, can still provide adequate shelter in these situations.
There were granite boulders around the small site chosen, some had surfaces parallel with the ground, making ideal platforms for placing my cup and other items in use.
Spent rifle and pistol cartridges littered the site. Every sign on the way down had been used as a target by people with, might I add, large caliber firearms.
I entered the palace at 2200hrs, with crickets still providing a relaxing ambience to an otherwise silent night, lit by a moon nearing full.
Patches of high cloud were suspended above, with stars providing stepping stones to locations only limited by the imagination, all this across an otherwise deep clear clear sky. The only extra item taken to bed was the pepper spray, incase I did have a visitor during the night.
D58, T 3.75hrs. Av 15.13 total 4005km
I am sitting on my three legged stool compiling this entry, two thirds of the way down Phantom Canyon Rd. It is now 2030hrs. All that can heard are crickets, it is so peaceful and mild.
I needed a campsite on this lonely gravel road that was not visible from the road. Half a dozen were checked but offered little stealth. The last thing I wanted was to stick out like a shit in sugar bowl.
More on that later.
Having erected the palace at the bottom of the valley at Lost Burro camp ground, experience at the Mountain Way, back in Australia told me it would be cool down here. The tarp had been erected to attract the dew away from the tent.
Arising early, it was down indeed fresh.
I made a coffee and boiled oats. Time at home was still respectable so I made a couple of calls.
Having done so, then packing and loading, I spoke with the French family about their plans and offered details of my loop and said orevoure. I headed up the gravel road out of the park, at least 200ft elevation.
The groundperson told me Cripple Creek was3 miles distant, with an 800ft climb thrown in just to remind me this was the Rockies.
Being early I selected a low gear and just took my time. This climb would be rewarded with a sustantial brekky. Yesterdays effort could be felt in the upper thighs, though this soon subsided. My av speed to cripple Creek was 6.8km.
Arriving in Cripple Creek. A woman was asked the whereabouts of a cafe that had wifi. Five minutes later a seat with a power source was located at the Cripple Creek Coffee Est. Great food and service in a unique building.
Five hours later the seat was vacated , having eaten well, consumed copious coffee and iced water whilst compiling a couple journal entries.
Directions to Phantom Canyon Rd were sought and orientated mentally. Cripple Creek is at 10,000ft . Having to turn off to Victor once having climbed out of Cripple Creek, the going got a little easier.
Cripple Ceek was a ghost town, a DA for casinos was approved. The main street now is full of boutique casinos.
Entering an establishment, a dollar note was consumed by the machine of choice,
the credits recieved were then consumed almost as quick. It was a token gesture culminating in a predictable outcome, in a town that survived on its visitors misfortune.
Victor was an old mining town, the most outstanding feature was rust. This town is nothing like I have ever seen. There were metal objects everywhere from a bygone gold mining rush. Sixty thousand people once called Victor and Cipple Creek home.
I stopped, looked at the museum and bought a drink, Victor is at 10000ft. I headed off for Phantom Canyon Road, it heads south down to highway 50 near Penrose and the green pharmacy visited, In 26 miles it drops 4500ft. Gravel is its finish.
The scenery on this road is awe inspiring. Sheer rock cliffs abutt the road on one side and almost vertical drop offs greet you on the other. Construction must have been a considerable task. It was originally constructed for a narrow gauge railway that carried ore down the range from Victor and Cripple Creek.
This was the natural environment in its purest presentation. The burden of my load was unoticed as I free wheeled down this little travelled road, in awe at the rock formations. Sections of severe corrugation in the road were my only reminder that this awe had to be checked at times.
The already worn brake pads will need inspection, post this decent.
A young couple were roadside taking photos, such nice people from Missouri, the young woman was so animated and friendly. I asked them if they had a camera that took XD cards, sure she said, we put my card in its alotted space and some record of this road and its passage through such a beautiful environment was recorded.
She spoke of the Katy Trail and how enjoyable it will be, prior to us exchanging parting comments, of safe travels and having fun while doing so.
The cliffs comprised of fractured rock with some precarious over hangs present. This landscape is vegetated with pine trees growing in the most unhospitable locations.
At one point the road went through a canyon so narrow it was single lane. It was a classic movie ambush site. Ones imagination didn’t have to wonder far to see Native Americans slipping from boulder to boulder above on both sides. Once in, there was no escape.
Stopping at a small rest area with toilets, placards describing the flora and fauna were read. This was Mountain Lion country. Figuring it was to rugged for bears, an easiness about camping in this wilderness was felt.
Finally finding a spot out of site, I man handled the bike from the road down to a dry creek bed.
It was a site that had been frequented previously. Had it not been for two old sleeping bags, a rock star rating would have applied. The scrots were ideal as padding beneath the tent. This unexpected provision upgraded the site to at least three stars. The ground was pretty much rock. The tent being almost free standing, can still provide adequate shelter in these situations.
There were granite boulders around the small site chosen, some had surfaces parallel with the ground, making ideal platforms for placing my cup and other items in use.
Spent rifle and pistol cartridges littered the site. Every sign on the way down had been used as a target by people with, might I add, large caliber firearms.
I entered the palace at 2200hrs, with crickets still providing a relaxing ambience to an otherwise silent night, lit by a moon nearing full.
Patches of high cloud were suspended above, with stars providing stepping stones to locations only limited by the imagination, all this across an otherwise deep clear clear sky. The only extra item taken to bed was the pepper spray, incase I did have a visitor during the night.
