Scooting Among The Clouds
A Vespa Adventure Above 14,000 Feet

By David Westman

When you live in Colorado, there’s always an adventure awaiting you around every corner. White water rapids call to you like sirens, beckoning you to raft down their rushing torrents. Snow-laden mountains invite you to swoosh down their slopes. And fifty-four 14,000-foot peaks taunt you to reach their summits. In Colorado, we call them “fourteeners.”

Every day as I scoot west towards work, I gaze upon Mt. Evans silhouetting the Denver skyline. It’s snow-capped 14,264-foot peak rises above the city into the clouds. The Mt. Evans Scenic Byway, completed in 1927, snakes its way around the peak, forming the highest paved road in America. A paved road all the way to the top of a fourteener? If you build it, they will drive. And if it’s tempting, I will scoot.

It seems I’m not the only scooterist in Denver who likes to give in to temptation. When I put out word to the SQREAM Scooter Club (Scooter Queers Riding Everywhere And More) that I wanted to make an attempt on the Mt. Evan Summit, five other kindred souls signed on for the mountain expedition. We had Kim on her Vespa GT 200, Vicki on her Aprilia Mojito 150, John and Freda on “his and hers” Vespa GTS 250s and Kathy on her white and polka dot Vespa GT200. I rounded out the team riding my glow-in-the-dark flaming green Vespa GTS 250, the “Atomic Scooter.”


The mountain expedition assembles.

Kathy and her Vespa GT200.

Vicki and her Aprilia Mojito 150

John and his Vespa GTS 250.

Freda and her Vespa GTS 250.

Kim and her Vespa GT 200.

David and his Vespa GTS 250.

With much excitement, we convened early on the morning of July 3, 2006 in west Denver. I’ve hiked a few fourteeners in Colorado and I know from past experience that you want to be coming off the mountain by 1:00 pm, before the clouds, rain and lightning pin you down. Colorado is one of the top ten states for lightning deaths. Several weeks before, a motorcyclist died when lightning struck him on the highway. To make matters more difficult, the weather report announced we were now officially in Colorado monsoon season. Extra moisture in the air means daily afternoon thunderstorms. It was going to be race against time and Mother Nature if we were going to pull this off.

We rode towards our lofty destination, first scooting over Green Mountain and then down into the little town of Morrison. I could see from our approach that the top of Mt. Evans was clear and cloud-free, even though we woke that morning to a very cloudy Denver. The clear skies ahead were promising and encouraging. As we rode up Highway 74 towards Evergreen, Mt. Evans disappeared among the rocks and granite cliffs of the foothills. Along the way, we passed an old covered wagon. I was reminded of the early settlers who road across the western prairie and were stopped by the sheer magnitude of the Rocky Mountains. What would have taken them weeks to do, we were going to do in a day – climb above tree level and scoot among the clouds.

The journey begins.

As we entered the town of Evergreen, we celebrated our minor success, having risen from Denver’s elevation of 5,280 feet to our current 7,220. So far, so good. Even Vicki’s 150cc Aprilia was keeping up just fine. When we scooted past four elk grazing on the side of the road, I knew we were well beyond the city. With an average height of eight to nine feet, the elk dwarfed our scooters. In an encounter with one of our scooters, the elk would definitely come out a winner.

We hung a left off of Highway 74 and were now on the second leg of our journey, Squaw Pass Road. This would take us eighteen miles to Echo Lake and the start of the Mt. Evans Scenic Byway for our final leg. The road gradually ascended and we turned a corner to discover the Continental Divide stretched out before us. As we rose higher, the temperature had headed in the opposite direction. It was time to stop and dig out winter riding gloves, wool sweaters and heavier riding pants. John and Freda pulled out their digital camera to capture the moment only to discover the battery was dead. Little did we know, this would be an omen of things to come.

Viewing the Continental Divide. Time for warmer gear. One dead camera battery.

Green on green.

We passed many hard-core bicyclists on Squaw Pass Road. I must admit I felt a little guilty zooming past them effortlessly on a scooter. They were getting their workout, riding up that mountain road. And the grimaces on their face proved it. I just kept smiling my scooter grin and enjoyed my own challenge – getting a scooter above 14,000 feet.

At Echo Lake and we stopped for a sanity check. Was everyone still willing to forge ahead? Was everyone warm enough? Was anyone’s scooter bogging down too badly from the thinner air? Vicki was concerned she had not brought enough warm clothing to make it to the top. I loaned her an extra wool sweater and she decided to go for it. If her 150cc scooter had made it this far, she was not about to give up now.

A National Forest Service tollbooth at Echo Lake charges $10 per vehicle to drive the highest road in America to the top of Mt. Evans. We were pleasantly surprised to learn that scooters can squeak by for only three bucks. Besides saving us money on gas (a scooter can get up to 70 miles per gallon), our scooters were also saving us enough for a post-ride cocktail.


Paying our three bucks.

The Mt. Evans Scenic Byway rolls steeply straight up and then begins a series of switchbacks as it climbs higher. We stopped just above tree line to give each other a “high five”. Tree line meant we were at 11,500 feet above sea level. We also had to stop and let Kathy catch up on her GT200. Her scooter was beginning to feel the effects of the thinner atmosphere and was bogging down. Amazingly, Kim on the other GT200 was doing just fine as so was Vicki’s 150cc Aprilia Mojito. The three Vespa GTS 250s, with their fuel injection, were climbing the mountain effortlessly.


We reach treeline!

Looking down at Echo Lake from above treeline.

A few more switchbacks and we reached Summit Lake at 12,850 feet. The lake is nestled just below the summit and we decided to stop for a quick photo op. Unfortunately, we were not the only things that decided to stop. John’s GTS 250 was through with climbing. When we started up our scooters for our final assault, his GTS 250 would not turn over. The battery was dead. This was dead battery number two – first the camera, now the scooter. His battery should have charged from the day’s riding. But instead, some kind of electrical short was draining all the power. In addition, Vicki noticed her scooter had only a quarter tank of gas. She decided to hang back with John, saving what little gas she had for the return trip. The closest gas station was way back in Evergreen. John and Vicki would attempt to secure some jumper cables from the cars parked at the lake, while the rest of us, including John’s wife Freda, continued on. Even the bonds of marriage were not strong enough to hold Freda back from making the top.


We arrive at Summit Lake. Yes, that's snow!

Dead battery number two. John's scooter goes dead.

Freda, Kathy, Kim and I set out for the top of the mountain. We had a good half dozen more switchbacks to traverse. Along the way we spotted a herd of mountain goats gazing on the rock-strewn alpine tundra. As sure footed as those goats, our Vespas made it to the top of Mt. Evans in no time.


Switchbacks galore.

Mountain goats grazing.

Several motorcycles and “cagers” (slang for folks who ride in cars) were amazed to see us at the top of Mt. Evans on scooters. We were just as amazed, but mostly just excited, to be on the top of one of Colorado’s tallest mountains. While I availed myself of the “highest pit latrine in America,” Kim and the girls witnessed the dumping of a Gold Wing motorcycle, as its rider pulled into the parking lot. They helped the poor gent upright his bike. How fortunate for him that a team of strong women were waiting above 14,000 feet to come to his rescue.


Happy scooterists at 14,264 feet above sea level.

The dangers of altitude.

Posing at the summit.

The Atomic Scooter on top of the world.

We had arrived at the top, but not before some very large storm clouds began to move in and envelope the peak. The temperature began to drop, chilling us with a light drizzle. We cut our victory celebration short and decided to start making our way down the mountain before the weather worsened. Plus, in our quest for the top, we had abandoned John and Vicki down below at the lake.


The clouds roll in.

As we descended, we found ourselves in a hazy wet mist. We were scooting among the clouds above 14,000 feet. The road became slick from the drizzle, but we safely rode our way down to Summit Lake.

John and Vicki had yet to obtain a pair of jumper cables. It seems that rental cars populate the mountaintop with nary a jumper cable in sight. A hiker on the way to his car overhead our plea and offered some cables from his trunk. With the rain now coming down quite steadily, we were grateful for his assistance.


Jump-starting in the rain.

John jump-started his GTS 250 from Freda’s scooter. And just in time, as snow was beginning to mix with rain! The six of us set off down the mountain with rain trailing us for a good seven miles longer. As we descended out of the clouds, we found the sun again, warmer air and a dry road. We reached Echo Lake and, encourage by the sunshine, decided to pull over for lunch while our scooters and clothes dried out. John turned off his bike, praying it would start up again. He had turned off the engine several times along our ride and hoped the Summit Lake breakdown was just a fluke. Well, the scooter gods did not answer his prayers and we were once again asking traveling tourists in the area for another set of jumper cables. A pair was found quite quickly and we were once again on our way down the Denver. We insisted that John keep his bike running – no matter what.

Vicki’s gas was low so our next goal was Evergreen and a full tank. Along the way, a bicyclist overtook us doing at least 50 miles per hour down Squaw Pass Road. He came flying out of nowhere and stayed ahead of us for quite some time down the mountain. We also passed more elk along the way, this time a sizeable herd of about 30.


Evergreen Elk.

Getting gassed near the Golden Boar Deli.

After a quick stop in Evergreen for Vicki’s gas (with John keeping his motor running), we scooted around the Evergreen Lake and stopped for a red light. John’s scooter decided, even with the throttle revving, that it liked Evergreen too much to leave. The engine cut out so we pulled into Baskin Robbins, conveniently located across the street. I decided this time I would enjoy the jump-start show with a scoop of ice cream, while John begged for yet more jumper cables. A friendly guy in a beat-up red pickup truck had the necessary fibrillators. Another shock to the scooter’s mechanical heart and we were on our way – but only for 50 feet. The GTS went flat line. This time John and Freda decided to park the bike, even if it meant John riding “bitch” on Freda’s bike all the way back to the city. They insisted we go on without them.


Another jump start before dead battery number three - the cell phone.

As we headed down Highway 74 towards Morrison, John made a phone call to Vespa Roadside Assistance. (If you have a Vespa, you can find the toll-free number under your seat.) Well, they say that three’s a charm. John’s call for help was interrupted by another dead battery – his cell phone. With his spirit drained much like his batteries, John found a pay phone and managed to get through to Vespa. It was a holiday weekend, and as John’s luck would have it, there were no tow trucks in the area. The closest one was in Lakewood, a suburb west of Denver. To the tune of $275, John’s scooter was treated to a ride home on a flatbed pickup large enough to hold two full-sized pickup trucks. What a picture that would have made – if only John’s camera battery had still been kicking.

The remaining four of us scooted into Denver, just ahead of the looming storm clouds still gathering over Mt. Evans. We had scooted among the clouds and had landed safely back on solid ground. It was an exhilarating experience that we’ll relive in our hearts every time we gaze up at Mt. Evans from our scooters down in Denver.

David is the president of the SQREAM Scooter club and scoots around Denver on a blue and white “Alfie” Vespa GT 200 and the Atomic Green Flame GTS 250.