Passes & Canyons Blog

The OFMC heads into New Mexico.

The OFMC spent the second night of our trip in La Junta, out of the prairie of eastern Colorado but if you think it’s all just flat or rolling grassland you would be wrong. We headed south out of town on CO 109 passing through Commanche National Grassland. Far from flat, this is beautiful country with wide valleys and high tablelands between the valleys. Judy and I had seen this country before when we came down to hike through Picket Wire Canyon, down to the Purgatory River, to where dinosaur footprints remain visible in the rock. It’s absolutely gorgeous.

And it is this same country that we rode south through, including crossing the Purgatory.

When we got south a ways we hit US 160 and turned west. This road runs to Trinidad but we were intending to turn south again into New Mexico, to Capulin Volcano National Monument. So there we were riding along and after awhile we had these beautiful wooded mesas on our left. This is prairie? I kept waiting to see a road because I really wanted to ride up into that extremely inviting terrain. Sadly, it didn’t happen. We finally did come to CO 389 and turned south and while this road was darn nice, it wasn’t what a road through those hills would have been like.

But it was nice. A good two-lane road, almost no traffic, wandering through the hills and down through a canyon, up the other side, and on to Folsom. South then six miles to Capulin Volcano.

Unfortunately it was Sunday and the weekends are when the monument gets the most visitors. We were told we would have to wait our turn to ride up the road that encircles the volcano because there were no parking spaces available at the top. The wait could be an hour. How about if we just ride up and come right back down? No, there’s no place to turn around at the top. Oh really? I’ve been up there before, and we’re on motorcycles for pete’s sake. But they were following the policy someone higher up than them set it place. It’s fun going up the hill, and the views are terrific, but not for us on this day. We left.

Rather than go a couple miles further south to US 64, which is a four-lane highway with a lot of truck traffic, we backtracked to Folsom and took NM 72 west to Raton. What a sweet road! Almost zero traffic, two lanes and twisty, going up high and down low. Vastly nicer than US 64.

At Raton we stopped to get gas and have lunch, hoping that a very dark cloud to the west would pass on by. When we were ready to ride again the cloud had indeed passed by but now the entire sky to the west was looking even more threatening. We headed south a short distance on I-25, then got off onto US 64, which goes to Cimarron and then up a canyon, over a lip, and down into Eagle Nest. This is where you hit the road that encircles Wheeler Peak, with Taos on the southwest, Eagle Nest on the northeast, and Red River at about the northernmost point of the circle. There’s a big motorcycle rally at Red River each year so you don’t have to guess that there’s some good riding around here. Red River was our destination for the day.

First we had to get there. We already stopped and suited up before heading up the canyon. We managed to shoot between a couple clouds but the closer we got the more generalized the rain became. It was just spitting but it was not too soon to stop and put on the rain gear.

Once we got in the canyon the rain became pretty consistent, if still light. But then it got harder. And harder. Pretty soon it was pouring down. I opened my visor a crack to get rid of the fog developing inside and also to let some cool air and the occasional raindrop splatter my face. The rain was no problem but I was getting drowsy and having trouble keeping my eyes open.

Apparently the other guys were not faring as well. Several said, when we stopped at Eagle Nest, that they could hardly see the road to stay on it. Others had rainsuits that seemed not to be doing their job very well, with the front of their shirts dripping wet. I was as warm and dry as could be. Friggs, obviously your new rain jacket is defective. Bill and Dennis, maybe you should have worn something other than your half helmets. John, you’ve got to crack your visor to get rid of that fog. What the heck’s the matter here? None of us is lacking in experience in this kind of thing.

No matter. Just another 20 miles and we were in Red River. We pulled into the lot in front of our motel and the manager, standing out front, said he hoped we had reservations because they were full. Yes indeed, we said, we made reservations in April. Terrific, he said, you got the best rooms in place. And we did. This place is a block off the main street, by the creek, and our doors opened onto the creek. This was a choice spot to spend the night.

Biker Quote for Today

You’re a biker wannabe if you’ve never had to replace a worn out tire.

Heading out of Cripple Creek Saturday morning.

After all I did to make sure I got up to King Soopers at Aspen Park on time I left late and got there late. No matter, Bill and Friggs were much later. Something about a hellacious traffic jam.

No problem, we’re in no hurry. We cruised on south to Cripple Creek and were still the first to arrive. A beautiful day on the bikes and no rain.

John was next, and he was two hours later than us, coming from Montrose. And he got dumped on shortly before he arrived. And then not long afterward, Randy and Brett arrived, with Johnathon along just for the night in his pick-up. You see, the young guys are starting to fray. First it was John and Bill and me and then we added Bill’s brother and their brother-in-law and John’s son and Bill’s son and friends of theirs. Bill’s son Jason dropped away a couple years ago and now Johnathon, John’s son, has done the same. They both have young families and just worry about what might happen to them on their motorcycles to the detriment of those kids. And later Randy, Johnathon’s friend who has been with us a good many years, told us this year may be his last. So we seem to be getting back a lot closer to the core group.

So it was good to get everyone together and catch up, and everyonne had a change to get their gambling urges satisfied. Saturday morning was when the ride really got started.

We headed out of Cripple Creek along Teller County Road 1 and then south on TC Road 11 until it hit CO 9. That’s a really nice back route into and out of Cripple Creek, in case you’ve never been on it. CO 9 then brought us out to US 50 just west of Canon City; we headed east. By the time we got into Canon City it was already so blazing hot that it was time to stop in the park under some shade. Also time to imbibe lots of water and Gatorade to stave off dehydration. It was hot!

Then we blazed on out US 50 toward Pueblo, and on through, headed to La Junta, but before we got there it was highly desirable to stop in another park in Fowler to once again enjoy some shade. Temps were around 105.

A short jaunt took us the rest of the way to La Junta and we checked in the Hampton Inn. This is billed as the first OFMC luxury trip. Gone are the days of camping (long gone) and now also the days of Mom and Pop motels. These guys are just getting a bit too soft in their old age.

Now, as far as I’m concerned, there’s no reason to go all the way out to La Junta if you’re not even going to spend any time in La Junta, and the Hampton Inn was out of the highway just at the edge of town. So while three guys walked two blocks to eat dinner at Taco Bell, the other four of us decided to go to downtown, to Jodi’s, which came highly recommended. And we were in luck–there was a festival going on in town so there was a shuttle running that would take us there and pick us up, for a donation. I would have been fine with riding but the others didn’t want to so we took the shuttle.

A couple blocks from the motel Randy asked what a normal “donation” might be. Esther, the driver, informed us she gets $10 per person plus tips as we see fit. I almost told her to stop the car right there. She was taking us two miles and wanted $40 plus to do it?! But I bit my tongue hard and after we got out and she drove off we exploded. But we needed to get back to the motel after dinner so we were stuck.

Dinner at Jodi’s was mixed. Mine was fine, Randy didn’t like his, and Bret and Friggs were both OK with his. And the decision was made that we had no choice but to call Esther to take us back but she would only be getting a donation of $5 for the four of us. I guess a couple of the guys actually tipped her on the trip over so she was still ending up with $65 for taking us there and back. As we were riding back the most bizarre, extreme weather sprang up so that when we got to the motel we threw her $5 and jumped out of the cab and ran over to where we could see this amazing storm that was blowing in. What Esther thought of the $5 we didn’t know and didn’t care.

But what a storm!! First it was dirt, like from the Dust Bowl days. Wind so strong that a big dumpster went sailing through the parking lot and smashed against a building. Then the rain. Lordy did it rain! And then it all died away and we spent the rest of the evening hanging out in the motel lobby, drinking beer and solving the problems of the world.

The bike trip was off to a good start.

Biker Quote for Today

Why bikes are better than women: If your motorcycle is misaligned, you don’t have to discuss politics to correct it.

Cruising through a mountain town.

Just for the record, it takes 45 minutes for me to get from my house to the King Soopers along US 285 in Aspen Park, which people often refer to as Conifer.

So who really cares about that? Well, I kind of do, because when the OFMC takes off for places this is often our gathering spot. Dennis lives up in the hills and there is no reason for him to come down to town just to turn around and ride back up. So we head up the hill and meet him–and each other–there.

We’ll be doing that tomorrow as we set out on this year’s OFMC trip.

Anyway, we’re supposed to meet there around 10 a.m. and I never want to be the guy holding up everyone else. Now, I’m not anal enough to have made the ride just to see how long it took, but the other day I did do the ride partially to see how long it took. If there hadn’t been another reason I would not have done it; I’d just leave plenty early to be sure I’d be on time.

But it was hot. And I wanted to ride. So the only thing that made sense was to ride up into the hills where the temperature gets lower the higher you go. When you’re just itching for a ride, any destination, no matter how meaningless, is all you need. Hey, I know! I’ll ride up to Aspen Park and see how long it takes!

And then from there it really doesn’t matter where I go because I’m up in the hills.

So I cruised around a bit. Went over to Evergreen and yes, that place was loaded with people and bikes and cars the way it usually is on a Saturday, which this was. If you’ve never been through Evergreen on a beautiful weekend day, let me tell you it’s a spectacle. Lots of motorcycles. And I ended up later in Morrison; same thing. Tons and tons of motorcycles on a beautiful Saturday.

And the best thing of all, it wasn’t blazing hot. How do people live in places where they can’t just scoot off to some place nicer at the drop of a hat? There’s a reason I live in Colorado.

Biker Quote for Today

Don’t wait for life, ride to meet it.

The group photo; last night's snow left the mountaintop a sea of mud.

I was up and out the door early on Friday as I wanted to get to the top of Pikes Peak no later than 9:30. That was when the participants of the Sisters Centennial Motorcycle Ride were planning their group photo at the top so I knew I’d find them there at that time. The high temperature for the day was supposed to be in the mid-90s but I wore my electric vest and took a couple extra layers. I don’t care if it’s the middle of summer–which it is–when you get up that high it’s going to be chilly.

I blasted south on I-25 and the closer I got to Colorado Springs the cooler it got, so that I was thinking even then of flipping the vest on. Then I realized I was getting near the top of the Palmer Divide and of course it was getting cooler, but would be warming up again very soon. It was pretty amazing to look ahead where Pikes Peak was in plain sight and to think how in just an hour I would be up on top of that thing.

Well, not really. I needed to stop and get gas and it turned out that an hour later I was just starting up the mountain. But I was still on schedule.

Traffic was light early in the day and the couple cars in front of me very obligingly pulled out of my way so I could cruise at motorcycle speed, rather than follow them at frightened flatland cager speed. It was a beautiful morning and it was a joy climbing that hill.

About two-thirds of the way up there’s a place where they have a cafe and gift shop and a mandatory brake check for the folks coming down to make sure they’re not overheating their brakes. A bunch of bikes were pulled off there and a guy in a motorcycle jacket waved me over. Turned out it was Ziggie, another friend of Alisa’s who I had met some years ago and half expected to see on this day.

What Ziggie had to tell me was that going to the top at that point was iffy. They were still plowing off the snow that had fallen during the night. That’s right. This was July 15 and it snowed last night. It does that in the mountains.

Just about then Alisa showed up with word that things were now pretty clear. So I headed on up. The closer I got to the top, the more the road was still wet, with piles of snow off on the side of the road, but no iciness. And the top of the mountain was still coated with a dusting of snow, looking very beautiful. At the top it was a good thing there was gravel because otherwise it would have been a mud pit, as you can see in that photo above.

So it was kind of fun. There were a bunch of people up on top who I’ve come to know over the years and there were hugs and howdys to pass around. The one disappointment I had was that I had planned to film the ride up and down with my GoPro camera but when I went to set it up on top of my helmet, down at the bottom, I found that I had forgotten to bring the bracket that connects between the camera and the mount on the helmet. Oh well, that means I’m going to need to take another ride up Pikes Peak sometime this summer. Yeah, I know, please don’t throw me in that briar patch.

After awhile I headed on down, to head home. Coming down on I-25 I had noticed just north of Monument some hills rising up with some bare rocks showing that I had never paid attention to before. I figured I’d get off at Monument on the way home, go up through Palmer Lake, and see if I could get closer to those outcroppings along the road that goes to Larkspur. But no, I passed south of them heading out of Monument before I even reached Palmer Lake. Now I’m curious to find out how to get to them. Exploring to be done.

And then on the road to Larkspur the weather hit! I had seen foreboding clouds but was guessing I could run just ahead of the rain. And I did, except for just a few drops, but out on that road the wind suddenly started screaming like a banshee! I was leaned over almost at a 45-degree angle just to keep from being blown off the road. I’ve been in wind before but it’s been a very long time since I’ve been in wind like that.

I got back to I-25 and the wind had died considerably, and then by the time I was north of Castle Rock it was just a normal sunny summer day. And I was home by 12:30. I’ve been to the mountaintop and I still have the better part of the day to do other things. Works for me.

Biker Quote for Today

“People aren’t comfortable with a woman who looks very masculine or rides a motorcycle.” – Pam Grier

Some people just don't want to share the trails with you.

I remember reading about this some time ago but it seems to be a concern that is ongoing.

I got an email from the American Motorcyclist Association (AMA) about booby traps on public trails. Apparently some hikers don’t like the idea of motorcyclists using the same backcountry trails they use, and they apparently don’t care if their measures to discourage it results in serious injury or even death.

The report was about deliberately planted devices in Idaho, Massachusetts and New Hampshire. And the piece noted that in recent years similar devices have been found in Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico.

Off-highway riders in Massachusetts found cables strung across trails in four state parks, according to the Massachusetts Environmental Police and the state Department of Conservation and Recreation. Authorities are asking anyone who notices suspicious activity to call the 24-hour Environmental Police line at (800) 632-8075 or the DCR Park Watch Hotline at (866) 759-2824. The New England Trail Riders Association is offering a $500 reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the perpetrators.
Members of the Mount Moosilauke ATV Club Riders near Warren, N.H., discovered boards with nails in several places along the multi-use trail system. Before anyone was injured, club members removed the boards, along with scattered nails and broken glass. The ATV club is offering a $1,350 reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the perpetrators.
In Custer County, Idaho, riders found a piece of barbed wire strung across a trail about 4 feet from the ground, endangering off-highway-vehicle riders and mountain bikers, according to Sharetrails.org.

Let’s get the disclaimer out: Of course this is only a tiny minority; most hikers (we only assume it’s hikers) are just as appalled as we are that someone would do this. But that minority seems to be spreading. Funny how the “Land of Many Uses” concept seems to be dying.

Of course the really absurd story, one I read so long ago I don’t remember any details, was a time when a group of dirt riders got together and built a trail so they could ride it. And being generous and sharing they said that sure, hikers could use it, too. And a lot of hikers did. So many, in fact, that after awhile they started putting political pressure on to get the motorcycles banned from this trail they liked so much. That is just so, so wrong.

So what’s my point in all this? I really don’t have one, it just seemed like some good information to pass along to anyone who might be going trail riding. But then maybe this is my point: next time you start thinking in us vs. them terms, maybe you could talk yourself back with the idea that we all live here–let’s get along. Otherwise it can get pretty ugly.

Biker Quote for Today

Motorcyclists should be seen and not hurt.

A beginning rider course.

This is another story I did for Examiner.com that has been deleted due to incompatible technology. I think it’s worth republishing here.

“Are you crazy?!”

It wasn’t hostile, but it was clear what he thought the answer to the question was.

I’m going to keep you in suspense for a moment while I set the stage for this encounter.

*****************************************************

Do you know how to ride a motorcycle? I mean, do you REALLY know how to ride a motorcycle? Are you such a good rider that it would be beneath you to even consider taking a Basic Rider Course? You might want to think again.

I took the Basic Rider Course this past weekend, courtesy of T3RG Motorcycle Schools, and I’m pleased to say I passed. Granted, I expected to pass. After all, I’ve been riding for more than 20 years and I make my living writing about motorcycles and motorcycling.

So would it surprise you if I told you I found parts of the course extremely challenging?

OK, let’s see a show of hands. How many of you have dropped your bike going about two miles an hour in a parking lot? Quite a few of you I see. I certainly have. Sure, it’s easy to stay upright going down the road when you have the force of momentum and the gyroscopic force of the wheels keeping you up. But can you crank the bars all the way left or right and just go around in circles at walking speed?

Here’s the proposition: If you can maintain confident control of your bike at slow speeds, how much easier is it to do so at higher speeds? And unless you’re out there competing in some Top Gun competition and winning, you could probably benefit from getting some rider training, even taking a Basic Rider Course.

And if that’s something you can’t quite go for, how about an Experienced Rider Course? I did them backward. I took an Experienced Rider Course about 12 years ago. I had been riding about 10 years at the time and I definitely came out of that a better rider.

This is not an academic question. The fact is that a very large percentage of motorcycle fatalities occur in single-vehicle accidents. In Colorado last year, 39 percent of all fatalities involved riders who did not even have a motorcycle validation on their drivers’ license. Do you suppose some of those people would be alive today if they had taken and passed a Basic Rider Course? Plus, you have the added benefit that if you pass the course you can take your card down to the DMV and they’ll issue you your validation. At least that’s how it works here in Colorado.

So here was my double lesson in humility last Sunday. First off, in the testing that completed the course, another student who had never ridden a motorcycle before, but did have a lot of experience on BMX and mountain bikes, scored better than me on the skills test.

Then, as I headed home on my bike, I came to where I wanted to turn left onto the highway. There was a fender bender that had just occurred in the turning lane and they were waving people around. I checked the next lane and there was a car there, but he was stopped to allow us to pull out and around. I did, intending to make the turn but when I got even with the front car in the fender bender the turn signal was red.

Momentarily perplexed as to what to do, I stopped dead in the traffic lane. Then I decided I’d have to go forward and turn around to get on the highway. I did, and as I then pulled into the next left turn lane the driver behind me pulled up and yelled at me, “Are you crazy?!”

It dawned on me then that he probably came close to rear-ending me when I unexpectedly (to him) stopped to consider what to do.

Which only goes to show that rider training classes can teach you the skills to operate your machine, and they can even teach you procedures that will help you ride safely. But in the end it comes down to you. If you don’t constantly stay on your guard and make smart riding decisions, the rest of it doesn’t matter. I got lucky this time.

Biker Quote for Today

The reason the front tire lasts so much longer is that it spends less time on the ground.

You do NOT want to hit one of these guys.

Oh my god that was close!

Yeah, we’ve all said that one time or another. So of course there’s a thread on Adventure Rider where folks tell their tales. Here once again I dip into the thread to pass along some other people’s oh-my-god-that-was-close stories.

• I was riding over 8700′ Ebbett’s Pass on Highway 4 in the California Sierras. Came around this corner and there was a big brown cow standing on the steep hillside on my right, and as I approached the corner she lost her footing, slipped and rolled sideways down the hill and ended up in my path. I was able to brake hard and swerve and miss her. Man did she look scared, poor thing! She got up and staggered off to the other side of the road, none the worse for wear.
• Chickens. Crossing the road. True story.
• Coming out of New Mexico on 550 just crossed into Colorado ,came around a curve ,there was three portapotties laying in the road. just had room to go in between two of them.
• I destroyed a barbecue grill with my first bike. I pulled into the garage, put the stand down and as I stepped off I planted my foot in a fresh spot of oil. I fell forward onto the tank, pushing the bike forward, somehow folding the stand again, and falling over. Fortunately it was 1980 and I had a tall sissy bar than folded my dad’s barbecue grill into a neat V shape. I had been riding for approximately one month at that point.
• Dragon fly; not strange at all, but he was still alive and crawling around inside my helmet. He was still distracting me when I nearly struck the moose.
• One dark stormy night in the early 70’s I’d nipped out on my old mans Honda C50 step thru. On the way home there was a queue of cars in front of me so I did what any impatient 17 year old would do and rode slowly past them. Suddenly I was off the bike and sitting on my arse in the middle of the road. Unknown to me, the storm had brought a tree down which in turn brought down some phone lines which were hanging just at neck height. Due to it being dark and raining I hadn’t seen them but luckily I’d been going slowly when I was almost garotted. No harm done apart from a black line on my neck from ear to ear.
• I was riding a ’79 KZ650 (fantastic bike by the way) down I-40 toward Knoxville out of Strawberry Plains, Tennessee when I had to lay on the tank to let a huge goose fly over me from the right. The bird continued on about 6 feet above the road across the median to the east-bound lanes and directly into the path of a semi in the fast lane. The collision occurred behind me so I didn’t see it, but I looked over my shoulder and saw thousands of feathers streaming off the sides and top of the truck as it drove on.
• About two years ago, Hwy 20 between Boise and Idaho City. Came around a left sweeper and the road was brownish and looked like it was moving. Crickets! About a 1/2 mile path, across all lanes. Slippery and gross! Didn’t crash but was a great reason to wash the KLR.
• …..the sun was low and behind me…….a woman was on the ‘sidewalk’ to my side and was looking directly at me, she’s seen me……I got closer and she stepped straight into my path……I hit her at 30mph……..she was ok…….but !!!.. It turned out she suffered badly from a sight defect and was trying to cross the road to a meeting for the ‘blind’ and she didn’t see me for the low sun……..I was riding a police bike at the time……I felt bad……….judge me.
• That was nothing, though, compared to the infamous Chicken Guts Ride, as it came to be known. Myself and a couple buddies were riding bicycles and going pretty hard. We were all in shape back then, just past our road racing primes. Pete and I had dropped our friend Jon on a climb and were out of the saddles pumping hard up the hill when, suddenly, we found ourselves riding through rotted chicken innards spread all across the roadway–the stench in the sun was ungodly. Chicken guts on hot asphalt make for an extraordinarily slick riding surface, and so we were forced to sit back down in our saddles–otherwise, our rear wheels just spun when we pedaled. Even in the saddles, our wheels spun a fair amount and, so we slowed to a bare crawl, struggling to stay upright and hoping we’d get through it before the incline and gravity did their work and we fell into the mess. We made it–the worst of it was 50-75 feet long or so, but it seemed an eternity. We probably should have warned Jon, but we figured it would be more fun to watch and so we did. He made it, too, with plenty of loud curses.

Yes, there are totally unexpected adventures awaiting you out there. Stay alert.

Biker Quote for Today

If you can still hear your fears, shift a gear.

Who knew Alisa would go out and create something like this?!

Right at this moment there is big deal motorcycle ride crossing the country. The Sisters’ Centennial Motorcycle Ride is to mark the 100th anniversary of the ride made by two sisters, Augusta and Adeline Van Buren, “the first women to cross the continental United States, each on her own motorcycle.” Serious math tells us this was 1916.

This modern ride started on July 3, in New York, and will end in San Francisco on July 23. And they’ll be coming through Colorado July 15-17. Their stop for two nights will be in Colorado Springs, with a side trip up Pikes Peak on July 15, or July 16 in case of bad weather.

So the reason I find this particularly interesting is that it has been organized by Alisa Clickenger, who I have known for a number of years now. And I’m doing this “Wow” kind of thing I think most people do when someone they know does something you never would have imagined them doing.

I first met Alisa in 2009 when she was a participant in the Adventure for the Cures “Dirty Dozen” ride that preceded the International Women and Motorcycling conference in Keystone. I was doing the full-time motorcycle freelance journalist thing at the time and I was covering the ride and the conference. I had gotten to know some of the women on that ride and most of my attention had focused on them and then I chanced to talk to Alisa. She didn’t try to hide a bit of hurt at being overlooked, considering that–she told me–she had made a point to reach out to me. Which I had let slip by.

So we spoke at length and as it turns out, she is the one person in that group who I have had the most ongoing connection with.

First I did a piece on her as demo ride leader for BMW. She had plenty of interesting stories to tell about that. Then she took off on a ride to the southern tip of South America and I followed her (journalistically) the whole way, largely by Skype, which enabled us to talk from wherever she was for free. And by the way, she didn’t get quite all the way there. But that was a heck of an adventure for a woman riding solo.

Meanwhile, Alisa had journalistic aspirations of her own. She and I have traded job tips over the years, of the sort like “Hey, this magazine is looking for stories that sound right up your alley.”

Well, the last time I sent her a tip she replied that she was much too busy to pursue this now–she had this ride thing she was planning that was taking all her time.

That was pretty surprising–ambitious!–by itself but then I started seeing endorsements and reports and support statements coming from a lot of sources. It wasn’t just happening, it was becoming a big deal.

And now I’m seeing pieces about it on places like CBS and a whole range of newspapers across the country. Wow. I knew her when.

So good for you Alisa. I’m thinking when you and your group go up Pikes Peak on July 15 I want to be up on top to greet you. But it’s going to be a surprise unless you read this blog post.

Biker Quote for Today

Riding motorcycles is like taking drugs . . . Bikes should come with a warning label that reads “Warning: Riding a motorcycle is addictive. It will change your life forever.”