A Christmas scene from our family to yours.
You might be a Yuppie biker if you really believe that there are bikes that come customized from the factory.
How long before Quincy out east here will be smothered in houses and commercial development? 10 years? 20? I remember when County Line Road looked like this.
We had the winter solstice the other day, which means winter is officially begun. To me that means it’s time to ride. I don’t ever put my bikes away.
We’ve been having such a mild December so far that I’ve been riding quite a bit. In fact, if I can get in just a few more days on the Honda I may actually manage to get its yearly mileage up over 1,000. I’m already well past the number of miles I put on that bike last year. It has been three years since I’ve managed to get 1,000 on that bike and honestly, I’m not expecting to this year, but if the weather stays good and I’m not too busy with other things I just might.
I knocked off 100 miles on Sunday. It was cool but I started off smart this time, with the electric vest turned on and the heated gloves set at level 2 right from the start. It was very cloudy and that makes a huge difference in how warm it feels but I was very comfortable the whole time.
My plan, such as it was, was to pick up where I left off last time, getting down to Hilltop Road and then south on Flintwood Road to reach CO 86 east of Franktown. I worked my way over to Potomac and then took it a long way south to where it currently hits a T intersection at Hess Road. I say “currently” because they are building some new housing development on the south side of Hess and while not open yet, the road continuing south is already there.
I turned east on Hess, crossed Parker Road, and picked up Hilltop, which eventually angled off to the southeast while Flintwood headed straight south. Approaching CO 86 I had no plans. Right (west) to Franktown and then . . . ? Or left (east) toward and Elizabeth and then . . . ?
I turned east. Cruised out to Elizabeth and then turned south on County Road 17/21. As I was riding along I thought about a road out this way that goes east to who knows where that I’ve thought many times about checking out. Maybe today was that day. I’m not really sure where that road is, however, I just know it when I see it. I know it’s down this way somewhere.
Well, the road I was on bends around and comes out to County Road 25 just maybe half a mile north of Elbert. OK, that road I was thinking of is definitely south of Elbert and I was not going to go all that way today. Oh well. Instead of turning south and going through Elbert I turned north and headed up toward Kiowa.
Coming into Kiowa I was interested to see if there were any bikes I recognized parked outside of Patty Ann’s. If there was I would stop and go in and probably have lunch. But there was only one and I didn’t recognize it so I went on past and turned north on the Kiowa-Bennett Road.
A good ways before you get to Bennett, though, you reach Quincy, which is the only paved road back to town from this area. I stopped for a break at the intersection and then headed back toward town. About the time I reached Parker Road there by Cherry Creek State Park I noticed my left hand was feeling a bit chilly. My heated gloves use batteries and one of the original batteries had died some time ago. I had bought a replacement but now the other original seems to be dying. Gonna need another battery soon.
From Parker it was just a straight shot home. Winter will take its shots at me later but for now I laughed in its face.
“Where will you go?” asked Cinda. Now, there was a question without a good answer. — Jon Robertson
Taking a break along the road in 2010. That’s Pawnee Buttes off on the horizon.
Chicks dig guys on motorcycles, it has been said. And yeah, there’s some truth to that–we all know it. So it’s natural to wonder what encounters or even escapades have been visited upon the OFMC over the years. Well, there have been a few.
First we need to make clear that in the very early days neither Bill nor I were married, so potential did exist. But the fact is that nothing ever happened in those years and then we both got married. Being married changes the dynamic a bit (he said with considerable understatement).
Way back in 1995 Bill had a problem with the stator on his Honda Shadow so John and I left without him. He jury-rigged a fix and later met us in Thermopolis, Wyoming. Meanwhile, that first day, John and I made it to Wheatland and got a room for the night. Being a couple guys out on a fun trip, we had a bite to eat and then hit a nearby bar.
We were just minding our own business when a quite drunk and not at all attractive local woman approached us. We were happy to make conversation but she quickly brought the conversation around to, would the two of us like to head back to her place? OK, didn’t really expect this. Um, no. No thanks. Gosh, thanks for asking. But by golly, she is not forgotten.
In 2003 we spent our only night ever in Aspen. Aspen is super expensive but John found the one reasonably priced place in town. Cool. It was the three of us, Bill, John, and me, and again, we headed for a bar after dinner.
We ended up sitting at the bar right next to a couple women whose tight, taut facial skin told of “work” to banish lines of age. Clearly the well-to-do sort you expect to find in Aspen. We got to chatting with them and they seemed to have some interest in these biker guys they had met, until . . .
At some point I brought up the subject of Hunter Thompson. Besides being an outlandish gonzo journalist, Thompson, a resident of the area, had run for sheriff of Pitkin County. He didn’t win but as I recall he didn’t exactly get crushed at the polls either. I asked the woman next to me if there had ever been an likelihood that he might win.
Her reaction took us totally by surprise. She immediately grew very hostile and acted insulted at the idea that we would think they were stupid enough to vote for such an idiot. Um, excuse me but I was implying nothing and only asking a question. Guess maybe it’s time we move on to some other watering hole.
Then in 2005 we were in Encampment, Wyoming. This was the first day of the trip and it was a pretty short ride to get there so once again (is there a theme developing here?) we were in the only local establishment when a big crowd of bikers on a poker run engulfed the place. We got to talking and partying with the crowd and then at one point a local woman seemed to take a bit of an interest in Bill.
Bill was still single at this point so when she suggested they go for a ride he was happy to oblige. John and I were thinking, OK, Bill’s going to get lucky. But then it wasn’t long before he was back, without her. Turned out, he told us, along the way they spotted a guy who didn’t look friendly. “Oh, oh, that’s my ex-husband,” she told him. So he dropped her off and made a possibly well-advised exit.
In 2010 we didn’t go to Wyoming, we did a trip around Wyoming. By now it was a much bigger group, with sons and friends of sons joining the older guys on the ride. We stopped one night in Big Timber, Montana, where the only thing going at night was the bowling alley. It was a happening night at the bowling alley, with a lot of drinking going on, and after awhile the old guys headed on back to the hotel, leaving the scene to the young guys.
We were in an old hotel of the sort where there were no private facilities; the restrooms were down the hall. Sometime during the night John pulled on his pants and went down the hall to get rid of some beer and heard some odd thumping going on in one of the shower stalls. The next morning he learned it had been Matt–the brother of a friend of a son, on his only ride with the OFMC–and some lady he met at the bar. So for once something actually happened.
Later on that same trip we were in Broadus, Montana, and just hanging out in the parking lot at our motel in the evening. Some woman also staying there was attracted to all these bikers and came over to chat. Very friendly. Turned out she was working. Why anyone would choose to ply that trade in this little wide spot in the road is beyond me. She didn’t find any business among our crowd, although Matt did show some amount of interest. Young guys and testosterone.
So yeah, that’s the sort of wild and crazy life you lead when you’re a stud biker.
You know you’re a biker when nothing heals like two wheels.
The Honda across the street from the headquarters of Liberty Media, down by Centennial Airport.
About five minutes before I got home on Thursday some guy on a GS ruined the lede I had composed for this blog post. I’m always playing with words in my head when I’m riding so that when the time comes to write about the ride it usually just flows because it’s already half written.
What I intended to lead with was: One telling thing about my ride on Thursday was that I didn’t see one single other rider. Not one. It was cold.
But there I was at Boston and Arapahoe and this guy on a GS goes by. Oh well.
It was cold. Fortunately, for once I was prepared. I wore my riding pants with my heaviest long underwear, my electric vest, and my heated gloves. I almost blew it with the gloves. I figured my winter gloves would be enough but then I figured I might as well bring the heated ones along in the tank bag. Then I had a better thought and put them on right at the start, set to the lowest setting. By the time I came home I was no longer on the lowest setting so you can imagine how cold my hands would have been without the heat.
With all this gear, however, it was a very comfortable ride. It was sunny most of the time and that makes a big difference.
I knew I wanted to be out at least an hour because I needed 46 miles on the Honda to at least get more miles on it this year than last. The time is past to ride in the mountains this year so I headed for the prairie.
Out Hampden all the way till it ends at Gun Club Road and I turned south. I wanted to get onto Smoky Hill Road and then it was my intent to take that series of roads south to where I would get to CO 86 coming west from Elizabeth, then take it west to Franktown. I didn’t have plans beyond Franktown.
But out in that area there are a lot of roads and I don’t get down that way particularly often, so I sometimes am not sure which road is going to come out where. I was wrong this time. I rode Smoky Hill to where it ends with a right turn and becomes Delbert Road. This is out on the current fringes of the city, where the housing developments finally end, and I always like to see just how much more there is out there than the last time I was there. There’s always more.
Delbert ends with a T intersection at Singing Hills Road and at first I thought I was on CO 86 but I soon saw that I was wrong. Oh yeah, I know where this goes. It feeds into Hilltop Road and that leads you back to Parker Road. OK, fine. Not what I planned but it will do.
Actually, looking at the map now I see that a left turn onto Hilltop, rather than the right I took, would have gotten me onto Flintwood Road and that was the one I had been looking for. I’m hoping these details stick better in my brain now.
Now I was headed northwest on Hilltop and crossed the intersection with Parker onto Hess Road. Hess Road bends around and heads south, coming out at I-25 down by Castle Pines. As I like to do there, I got on the frontage road, not the slab, and took that north to Ridgegate Parkway, jogged east on Ridgegate to South Peoria, crossed E-470 and turned left to loop around the south end of Centennial Airport. Then north on Inverness Drive West to Clinton, the jog over to Boston, and a stop at the light at Arapahoe. And there goes that guy on the GS.
Then just north to home. I more than got in my 46 miles and I had a really nice ride. Thank goodness for electrics.
You might be a Yuppie biker if your jeans are clean; in fact, if any spot on you is clean.
This is not where you want to put your helmet if you need help.
I saw an article the other day that talked about something I had not heard before and I wondered if this is well known and I’m just out of the loop.
The signal is setting your helmet behind your bike when you’re pulled over along the road.
This is usually just to signal that they are having mechanical trouble, but it could also be a signal for medical trouble, injury, or other problems. It’s an unofficial rule, but a widely acknowledged one.
That’s a quote from the article, which also says the Canadian Ministry of Transportation has a motorcycle handbook that tells you to do this.
I’ve been riding for about 35 years and had never heard this before. It sounds like a good idea, but that would be providing that other bikers know what it means. Until now, I would not have known.
Now, theoretically bikers stop for each other in trouble just automatically. That’s not really the case, though, as I think we all know. I have certainly had riders stop to ask if I need assistance, sometimes when I was just stopped to take a break. You bet I appreciated their thoughtfulness. But I’ve also been stopped along the road actually in need of assistance and watched as bike after bike just blew on by. So I like the idea of something concrete like this to really say “Hey! I need help!”
I would think you would do best to put the helmet maybe 10 to 15 feet behind the bike–maybe more–for two reasons. First, if it’s right next to the rear wheel it may just look like you took it off and set it down. But also, the further away from the bike the more time that gives passing riders to react and hit their brakes.
I had a flat on I-70 out by Rifle one time and I waved frantically at every bike that passed but they were all going so fast that by the time they had a chance to react they were already 100 feet beyond me. One couple did finally stop–about 200 feet past me–and came running back to help.
And who knows. Maybe someone in a car who read this same article will recognize the issue and stop to help.
A guy letting a girl ride his motorcycle is like saying “I love you.”
Jon Robertson, the author of this book, Rebel Without a Clue, contacted me asking if I’d like to review it. It’s about a great motorcycle adventure he took many years ago, plus a lot more, he told me. Of course I’d like to read it and do a review. Well, here we are.
First thing you have to understand about this book is that while the central focus is on this nearly 10,000-mile, two month 1970 trip, there is indeed a lot more. In fact, as I was telling Judy, it’s really like four books packed into one. The first part is about a fairly remarkable childhood, which set the stage for part two, the trip. Part three is Jon’s life since the trip and part four is Jon’s philosophical musings on a variety of topics. All tying back to the trip in various ways.
I have to say, because Jon and I were born the same year there is a lot in the first part that I found quite interesting because it was his experience of many large cultural events that I was experiencing in much the same way. That is, I could really identify very personally with him through it all. Whether that makes this portion interesting for you could be another matter. Still, the first part sets the stage so to understand it you really should read the first part. Plus, I referred to his “remarkable childhood.” Maybe I really mean the teen years. Whatever. But I can guarantee Jon’s teen years were nothing like yours or mine and it just makes for interesting reading.
So what’s the deal with the trip? Jon and his friend Tom set out from Los Gatos, California, and rode across the continent to New York and the east coast and then back. They had never done a trip anything close to this; heck, Tom wasn’t even an experienced motorcyclist.
Along the way things went right, things went wrong, good things happened, bad things happened–pretty much what you would expect. But let me ask you: how could anyone do a 10,000 mile motorcycle trip and not have all kinds of fun and interesting stories to tell? I don’t think it’s possible, which basically means there’s a bunch of good reading here.
Once the trip is over there’s a bunch of book left with one central question hanging over it all. Jon gives a capsulized account of the rest of his life and then voices some opinions that you may or may not agree with. And there’s that question hanging.
I’m not going to spoil it by telling you the question or the answer but Jon strings you along right to the very end before you get the answer. You do finally get the answer.
This is not the book it would be if it had been put out by some major publishing house, with top professional editors guiding the author and perhaps significantly reshaping the overall book. It’s self-published on Amazon but Jon is highly literate and very good with words, not to mention grammar, spelling, and punctuation. I’ve read several in-process books by non-professionals and I can assure you that grammar, spelling, and punctuation have not been any of those authors’ strengths. As I have said at least a thousand times (Judy will confirm), everybody needs an editor. Yes, I highlighted a number of things as I read through, but Jon is head and shoulders above these other authors whose works in progress I have read. If your skills in those areas are weak you probably won’t even notice.
So would I urge you to click on through that link to Amazon and buy this book today? If you’re into motorcycles I think it’s a good bet you would enjoy it. And as a digital download (Kindle) it’s only $7.98. I enjoyed it. I’m glad I had the chance to read it. And if you do read it, let me know what you think. I’d be interested.
And then we were gone, moving through the air like two acrobats on metal horses. — Jon Robertson
This is not the bike I was on but this is one of places I went.
If you’re going to ride your motorcycle at this time of year you have to take your opportunities when they arise. Tuesday the forecast was for a high in the 60s will full sun. There may yet be an even better riding day this month but I was not going to let this one go by. Plus, I have two bikes that I ride each and every month and as yet I had not been on either.
I took off on the V-Strom and I very quickly discovered that other motorcyclists also read the weather forecast. There were a lot of us out that day! Cool.
First I had a couple errands to run, so I quickly got those out of the way. Then I needed gas. Can you believe I paid less than $2.50 a gallon? Wow. Now I was ready to really ride. But I wondered how far.
As I said previously, at this time of year I set objectives I try to meet, in particular turning the odometer over to a new 1,000. Starting out on the V-Strom I was only about 70 miles from 48,000 so knocking off those miles would have been a no-brainer. Except that I don’t trust the weather at this time of year and I worried that if I did not ride both bikes this day I might not be able to ride the Honda the next day. And would it be getting cold already if I rode the V the full 70 before getting on the CB750?
Totally undecided, I just rode. I headed south out of town, wandering around, following my nose, as I do when I have no destination. And sometimes on roads I’m not completely familiar with I end up in different places than I expected. Which is OK, which was good, because that did happen. That’s how you learn your way around better.
I started heading back eventually but I could see I would end up short of 48,000 if I went straight home, so I turned again. One more side route and when I got home my odo was sitting at 48,001. Mission accomplished.
And it was still warm so I immediately climbed on the Honda and took off. I didn’t need to put a lot of miles on this bike this day; this was just an insurance ride. Besides, that bike is now 838 miles away from the next 1,000. That’s not going to happen.
But I do like having an objective, a target goal. I didn’t remember how far I was from putting 1,000 miles on the bike this year (373 now) but I thought maybe at the least I can put more miles on it this year than I did last year. But I didn’t know that number either. So I just went for a spin, maybe 20 miles.
Well now I am home and can look at the numbers and I see that if I just ride that Honda another 46 miles this year I’ll pass last year’s mileage. OK, I’ve got a goal. And in fact the weather is looking pretty nice for at least another few days. I’ve got more riding to do.
You know you’re a biker when you cry on the first snowfall.
No speeding going on here.
I was on the Adventure Rider forum and ran across an interesting post. Apparently it was in reply to a previous post but there was no link so I did not see what exactly the discussion was, but just the reply was of note. Here is the full post. (I hope I’m not violating some kind of copyright law putting this in here.)
Section 42-4-1101 Colorado Revised Statutes state that exceeding a posted speed sign is “prima facie evidence” and subsection (4) thereof states in part:
“prima facie evidence” means evidence which is sufficient proof that the speed was not reasonable or prudent under the conditions then existing, and which will remain sufficient proof of such fact, unless contradicted and overcome by evidence bearing upon the question of whether or not the speed was reasonable and prudent under the conditions then existing.(emphasis added)
Note too that section (7) states that any “city or town” may adopt “absolute speed limits” and (8)(b) makes 75 absolute everywhere in the state.
And yes, I’ve seen people get off on that (the ones I know of were usually in the category of being in traffic all of which was flowing faster than the posted limit. But if it’s just you vs the cop, good luck!
Oh, and yes, it’s illegal for cops to speed without using their emergency signals unless in “actual pursuit” but only “so long as such pursuit is being made to obtain verification of or evidence of the guilt of the suspected violator.” So if he is just cruising at 70 in a 65 it must be “reasonable and prudent” to do so, eh? I know one guy who got off because he got the cop to admit that he had been cruising at 80 in a 65 when he passed the “speeder” who was doing 75. “Officer, did you know you were driving in excess of the absolute maximum speed in this state? (embarrassed) “Yes.” Did you believe you were driving, nonetheless, at a reasonable and prudent speed?” “Yes”. Speeder found not guilty.
So what makes this particularly interesting to me is that I was once on a jury and we had a case where this was exactly the defendant’s argument.
This was in Adams County and the bust happened up on North Federal in the Federal Heights area. It was late at night, around 3 a.m. as I recall, and this guy was going higher than the posted speed. He got pulled over and cited both for speeding and for . . . I can’t remember, either an open container of some alcoholic beverage or for drunk driving. Probably open container.
I’m not sure why he contested the alcohol charge because that was pretty cut and dried, and we convicted him on it.
On the speeding charge, however, he made the plea that the letter of the law–taken literally–meant that going faster than the posted speed limit was not technically speeding if he was going a reasonable and prudent speed. He argued that at 3 a.m. there was no other traffic at all and the road was in good shape, he had plenty of visibility, all driving conditions were good, and so his going a little over the posted speed was in fact reasonable and prudent. There was absolutely no danger to him or to anyone else.
This was a novel concept that none of us on the jury had ever heard of but because this reading of the law was not contested by the prosecution we figured we had to accept that it was valid. And we acquitted him on the speeding charge.
So there you go. It’s good to know the law. Especially if you’re getting on the wrong side of it.
What kind of sound does a motorcycle of a pirate usually make? It goes like “Ruuum rum rum rummmmm.”
I
ride and I write. This is where I bring it all together.
Visit
www.motorcyclecolorado.com
Email
me at kenbingenheimer@
yahoo.com
