Red mountain pass to Silverton, CO

Riding a motorcycle is the only method by which I can stay entirely sane. I get excited every time I look at my bike (and yours too, so you better cover it up). In an effort to help you to gain an understanding of what a motorcycle means to me I would urge you to take a look at the one thing that gives you hope, whatever that may be. Now, take that one thing you have in your mind and imagine it carrying you to the farthest reaches of the globe. Now I must apologize if your Grandmother was your bringer of hope. All jokes aside, whatever this thing is that you have pictured it probably can't take you anywhere near as far as a motorcycle can. Unless you're thinking of a bicycle, and we all know those people are nuts!. My bike can fit in a box and be shipped by rail in the event the road becomes impassable. My bike can traverse a stream whether on it's own wheels underneath me, or pushed beside me, if I have the strength. Without going too far let's just say my bike is the answer. Now, if you were to ask me if I would like to traverse Red Mountain Pass by car in a mix of rain and sleet, with the offer of a beer on the other side, I would have exclaimed without a seconds delay, "shit no we can buy beer at the store!" Given the chance to do this exact same thing on a bike, without beer, I would not hesitate for a moment.

That brings us to the story of Red Mountain Pass. This is route 550, or the million dollar highway, from Ouray, CO to Silverton, CO. The road is part of the San Juan scenic byway, and it one of the most intimidating pieces of pavement I have ever traveled. The Red Mountain pass is only one section of the road and the fun continues all the way into Durango, CO.

On Thursday the 15th of September I awoke with the mythical PBR gremlin inside my skull. After a 15 minute session of thrashing around in bed trying every new position for my head that my neck could provide I decided upright would be the best option for me. Upright with coffee in hand that is. I left the airstream to find this day looking just as awful as the last. Rainy, gray bullshit blanketed the hills and hid the sun. I headed for Glen's house to see if I could remember how to make the cure. After a few minutes of reflection in the kitchen I came to the conclusion that I could make coffee, but someone else could do it without causing my head to throb. I sat down. I waited for what seemed like an hour. I visited the bathroom to see if that would make coffee appear; you know, the way visiting the bathroom makes the pizza delivery person arrive. Finally, the solution was leaving house to arrange my things. Success! When I returned to the house I drank deeply. After a few minutes I began to feel human, and after an hour or so it was time to ride on. The bonus of waiting so long was a clearing of the sky. At least I wouldn't have to start off in rain.

I had to get something in my stomach, and fuel in my tank, in order to make to two hour ride to Ouray. I stopped on the outskirts of town at a gas station to buy a ham sandwich and gas up. I swallowed the ham sandwich in one bite, stuffed my headphones into my ears and cranked up some tunes. The music was as much in preparation for the mountains ahead as it was to dull the thud of what was sure to be a day long hangover.

After a long ride on straight, pointless roads with only feedlots and strip malls to break up the monotony, I finally arrive at 550. I am overjoyed by the prospect of the adrenaline that will soon be coursing through my mind. In equal measure to that excitement, I feel alarm at the gathering gloom that is closing in on all sides. These clouds mean snow where I am headed. If not snow, it will be some sort of cold precipitation that will equal slippery surfaces.
I am not in the mood to slip, I am in the mood to go fast. At least fast enough to peel the remaining rubber from my rear tire before reaching Durango. At this point I have taught myself how to ride with confidence again and I am in the mood to give my bike a proper thrashing at the hands on the San Juan mountains.

After an utterly demoralizing ride through Ouray, in which I had to follow an 18 wheeler at 11.3mph, I finally reached a passing zone about two-thirds of a mile into the first ascent. I cranked into third gear and left the milkman to his reasonable pace. From this point on the road was a series of amazing corners with dizzying drop offs. I rode at the pace the road conditions allowed and made it to the top quickly. The electric gear was paying off again in the sub 40 degree temperatures. I paused for a quick picture and headed back to the bike to keep the ride going. 

I thought I was at the top of the pass when I arrived in the clearing pictured above. This was due to a combination of things. The rest of the mountains being obscured by cloud cover was the first misleading detail, the second was my failure to check my altimeter in my GPS. I still had another 2000 feet of climbing after this. The road continued to amaze and the riding was the best and scariest I have done on the trip. With this piece of the ride over I pulled into Silverton for lunch. I was lucky to find a brewery.

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Imagine walking into a Bar with your significant other to quench your thirst and, upon mentioning you are traveling and jobless, being offered the head brewer and bartender job. Sounds too good to be true right? This is what I thought when the Bartender told me the story of his five days of employment at Silverton Brewing Co. After listening to his story I told him mine. It just so happened that the owner was standing at the bar as well. He pitched the idea to Caroline, the new brewer with 4 days experience in this brewery, and she was fine with showing a fellow brewer around.

 Caroline is the newest brewer at Silverton. After walking in thirsty 4 days before she now can make all the beer she can drink. Silverton Brewery is the bar that tips you back. Caroline was cleaning a tank and doing some other brewery housekeeping tasks. She managed to take the time to share what she had learned about the area and the brewery in her 4 days. In a town where nearly 75% of the business shut down in the winter SBC manages to stay open due to business from the 2 ski areas in town. We basically hung out in the brewery and talked about brewer stuff until I realized I was probably holding up the works. I snapped some photos and made my way out the door to reach Durango, CO by the days end.

The brew system and fermenters are in the basement. The mash tun is an adapted dairy tank. There are two other dairy tanks as the kettle and hot liquor tank. The fermentation tanks are leftovers from a small British pub. While talking to the brewer I learned that the basement get so cold in the winter that the fermenters have to be heated up to remain at consistent fermentation temperature.This is something I haven't seen (or thought to about) anywhere else. SBC is another example of what you can achieve with a little extra creativity and clever adaptation. The whole system is very clean and makes terrific beer. While I was there my favorite was a smoked Vienna Lager. This beer was limited in quantity and may already be gone as a result, but if there is any left I recommend it strongly. I also tried the very drinkable IPA to accompany my lunch.

There will soon be another brewery in the small town of Silverton. It will be in the already established Avalanche Cafe. If you find yourself in town be sure to check out both of these places and everything else Silverton has to offer.

I came for the pavement and Silverton Brewing co. was my bonus and much needed rest stop between amazing roads and more amazing roads.