Admittedly, the terrain took its toll on the bikes. We stopped to tighten footpeg and muffler bolts regularly, and on the descent into St. Elmo the Triumph’s muffler suddenly dropped to the ground, transforming the bike into the loudest thing in the Rockies. The hanger had snapped at the weld. Strapping the hot, heavy muffler to the Triumph’s seat didn’t work, so we lashed it to my backpack and took turns shouldering the load. The day was slipping away, so we forewent lunch and forged on toward Tincup Pass, another double-black-diamond waypoint and easily the most difficult trail yet. True, we were getting tired and were definitely hungry, but the terrain was unreal: more than 10 miles of continuous rock garden composed of softball- and basketball-size stones. And to make things more interesting, north of the pass the rutted, rocky trail was pulling double duty as a culvert for the water that ran down from the hillsides, dripped from the escarpments, and seemed to well up from the soil itself. The final obstacle of the day was a 100-foot long, axle-deep water crossing where a lake had overflowed its banks and submerged the roadway.