I think it needs to be given a name. That magical 60 to 90 minutes before the sun sets on a beautiful day. The horizon takes on a color palette that you couldn't recreate if your art teacher demanded it. The air has that perfect temperature that you wish you could have had on your wedding day.
If you ever get to enjoy this magical hour on a motorcycle, you won't soon forget it. The two cylinders are pounding away in a harmony that even Kenny&Dolly wish they could have attained. That smooth two-lane highway that is lazily unwinding behind you feels like a wispy cloud that you are floating upon. And that exhaust note...oh baby, that exhaust note...is that what mom's heartbeat sounded like in the womb?
Yes that magical hour needs a name, and I shall name it right now. "Schkrumtulescent". No, that's already taken.
How about...Magic Hour.