So, I had been working for a Honda dealership in Utah at the time. We rode most mornings before work with the owner and some of the guys who worked in sales and service. There were a few times even the guys behind the parts counter would join in. Rarely, if ever, did I go to work without my gear and bike in the back of my truck.
Out of the blue, one morning after we had arrived late to work, my boss said to me, “Wes, have you ridden in Colorado yet?”
In his defense, he would do this all the time to me: ask me if I had ridden in other states, my answer was usually, “Not yet, but I hope to soon.”
“Good,” he replied, with a big smile. “Go and load your bike with your gear in the trailer. We leave right after work.”
Of course he announced this to me two hours before we closed the doors for the day. Luckily I always had my bike and gear with me, because hello, like I said before, I worked at a bike shop. The only thing I needed to do was call my wife and see if she could bring me a change of clothes and toiletries. (Oh man, remind her to tell you the toothpaste story later.)
We drove through the night and ended up in one of my bosses favoite places, Ouray Colorado. We spent the next few days riding the countryside from Ouray to Telluride and Silverton.
Over Emigrant pass and down to Black Bear. What an epic adventure we had. A few days later we were back on the road as we crossed state lines from Colorado to Utah when he turned to me and asked if I had ever been to Maob? Well you know what happened next, right? One of us had to call the shop and tell them we’re going to be gone a few more days. Moab…here we come!