On September 17th – yesterday, as I write this – I attempted to ride my bike up to Longmont, Colorado, about 10-12 miles away.
Longmont is among the areas hardest-hit by the recent floods we've had here along the front range of the Rocky Mountains. But I was unable to get there because of a closed road.
There are still many closed roads, due to flooding and weakened infrastructure.
And yet I ignored the "Road Closure" sign, rolling easily through a gap between the barricades. I knew I would not get far. This is a low-lying area with a stream running through it, a stream almost certainly far over its banks. But I thought it might make an interesting photo.
Within a few minutes I saw an approaching helicopter. An even better photo than high water! It was coming in for a landing near the stream.
Seconds after taking this picture, however, an angry cop confronted me. "You live back here?" he snapped.
"No, sir."
"You see that Road Closure sign?"
"Yes."
"That means you." He gestured like a basketball referee, and pointed back the way I'd come. "Now, geddahdahere!"
So I got the hell out of there. At least he didn't ticket me.
I rode aimlessly for the next hour and a half. At another barricade, workers kindly allowed me to walk my bike over a small, structurally compromised bridge. No cops present. If those workers had turned me back I'd have had to detour many more miles to get back home.
It has truly been a really wacky week.
There are still many closed roads, due to flooding and weakened infrastructure.
And yet I ignored the "Road Closure" sign, rolling easily through a gap between the barricades. I knew I would not get far. This is a low-lying area with a stream running through it, a stream almost certainly far over its banks. But I thought it might make an interesting photo.
Seconds after taking this picture, however, an angry cop confronted me. "You live back here?" he snapped.
"No, sir."
"You see that Road Closure sign?"
"Yes."
"That means you." He gestured like a basketball referee, and pointed back the way I'd come. "Now, geddahdahere!"
So I got the hell out of there. At least he didn't ticket me.
I rode aimlessly for the next hour and a half. At another barricade, workers kindly allowed me to walk my bike over a small, structurally compromised bridge. No cops present. If those workers had turned me back I'd have had to detour many more miles to get back home.
It has truly been a really wacky week.
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