Monday, July 03, 2006

Do the chickens have large talons?

I had an ace ride today. I did this section of the Colorado Trail near Buffalo Creek. It's one of my favorite rides anywhere. There's no spectacular scenery, save for a couple of glimpses of some bigger mountains. There's no exposure or drop offs leading to certain death. There's just tons of lovely, swoopy singletrack with some ups and downs, and one soul destroying grunt of a climb. My friend John went with me, and we stuck to the tradition of a post-ride burger at the Bucksnort. The Bucksnort started out as the mercantile center for the canyon town of Sphinx Park, CO back in the day when the railroad was following the path of the Platte river. Now it's a haven of motorbike and mountain bike riders, and climbers. It's nestled between steep, red rock walls of this canyon that is just wide enough for a creek, some gravity-defying houses, and a single lane dirt road. The walls of the Bucksnort are adonred with handwritten graffiti and business cards. Some of the tables are made from cable spools, and the wonky floor ensures that you are never really sitting straight up, and your table is more like a rocking chair, regardless of how many sugar packs you try to use as shims.

There's really only one reason to go to the Bucksnort, and that is the burgers. In all honesty, it's not the best burger I've ever had, but it's thick and made to order, and hits the spot like nothing else after pedaling the 17 miles of the Buffalo Creek loop. I'm sure the rest of the food there is decent, but you hardly see anyone ordering something other than a burger. What I like about the Bucksnort-aside from the name, obviously-is that it's one of those places that not too many people know about. It's tucked away on a dirt road in the middle of a steep-sided canyon that blocks most of the light from the sun. I only go there after riding Buffalo Creek, and it's something I look forward to almost as much as the ride itself. A place like the Bucksnort makes me feel like I'm living one of those stories that people tell that make you think 'wow, if only I had a ride/place/time like that', like I'm part of something cultural. Like I'm on an adventure and I've discovered this little gem.

Don't ask me why the fact that I ride a bike isn't enough to make me feel adventurous.


I talked to my father a little while ago. He's starting to move his foot and is walking again. It seems that he's making progress and my hopes are even higher now that he won't be suffering the effects of his stroke too much longer.