Passes & Canyons Blog

The Biker Buddy website.

Everyone is familiar with AirBnB, right? Well, how about something very similar aimed specifically at those of us who ride motorcycles? That’s Biker Buddy. And let me hasten to point out that the URL for this outfit is not “.com” but “.co.” (And just in case I need to be even clearer, that second period between the quote marks is not part of the quote or url, it is the end of the sentence. That’s the way we do it in the U.S., although the Brits put that period outside the quotes.)

I have written many times about the Motorcycle Travel Network and yes, Biker Buddy appears to be a direct competitor for them. The MTN is more casual and you pay less to stay with someone; Biker Buddy handles it all–including payment–via an app and the rate is higher. Specifically, for MTN you pay the host $15 for one person or $20 for two, with each additional person an added $10. With Biker Buddy the fee is $40. And that $40 is a fee, whereas with MTN the $15 or $20 is considered a gratuity to cover expenses.

Technically what that would mean is that if you had a lot of guests via Biker Buddy you would need to deal with the IRS. Presumably the MTN gratuity would not be taxable, although the IRS might differ with that interpretation.

Biker Buddy is so new that I certainly don’t have any experience to relate about it, though I have signed up. Looking at the app, so far I only see a few others signed up in this region, all in Wyoming: three in Casper, one in Newcastle, and two in Upton. Then I see one up in Dickinson, North Dakota, as well. Members also in the San Francisco and Los Angeles areas; near Austin, Texas; and near Nashville, Tennessee. That appears to be everybody at this moment.

So what we’re talking here is another way to find an inexpensive place to stay when you’re on the road, with people who share an interest in bikes. We have never had a bad experience with the Motorcycle Travel Network. If you’ve ever used AirBnB you should definitely jump on Biker Buddy. But heck, you really should have been using MTN for years already. I’m going with both.

Biker Quote for Today

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know when to just go riding.

I neglected to shoot a photo of Gerhard and his bike so I’m using this screenshot of the MTN site.

As I mentioned previously, we had another Motorcycle Travel Network visitor a couple days ago, Gerhard from Illinois. Once again we enjoyed meeting a fellow biker and were happy to have him stay with us.

Gerhard, who is 83 years old, is a serious rider. I’m not sure how many miles he has put on his bikes at this point but he told the story of renewing his driving license eight years ago. In Illinois you have to take and pass the riding portion of the motorcycle validation test. On his big BMW cruiser he was not able to navigate the cones and was afraid he would lose his accreditation. The tester, however, told him privately that he noticed his “400,000 miles” sticker on his bike and figured that if he has ridden 400,000 miles on a motorcycle and is still alive then he was not going to deny him a renewal on his license.

So that was eight years ago; I don’t know how many miles he has added since then.

It was interesting, too, because I know just what Gerhard was facing. When I first got my motorcycle accreditation on my driver’s license I had no choice but to take the test on my Honda 750. That’s a big bike to take the driving test on. I failed it the first time but passed it the second time by intuitively revving the engine, dragging the rear brake, and working the clutch to walk the bike slowly and deliberately around the cones.

I told Gerhard about this and said he could easily do the same and he surprised me saying that yes, I could do it because I’m an expert, but he is not an expert. He has ridden probably more than 500,000 miles on a motorcycles and he does not consider himself an expert? Really?

But then I think about the guys I ride with and I understand what he’s saying. Dennis is the one in our group who has ridden more than anyone. And yet I’ve seen in numerous instances a demonstration that Dennis does not understand this same simple procedure for controlling the bike at very slow speeds. I gave a demonstration once riding my bike in a U-turn on a narrow road and then watched as each of the other guys jockeyed their bikes back and forth making a series of Y’s to get turned around. Guys, did you not see what I just did? You really can do it if you try.

So Gerhard is no “expert” rider. Well, he certainly is a distance rider. He came here from Kanab, Utah, in one day–600 miles. And he left the next day headed for Lincoln, Nebraska. That’s a shorter distance, and one that I myself have ridden in a day a couple times, but still what I consider a long way. I’ve never ridden 600 miles in a day. And then Gerhard was planning to ride the rest of the way home, to Illinois the next day.

And remember, he’s 83. Good for you Gerhard, keep going as long as you can. I hope to do the same.

Biker Quote for Today

Imagine life without motorcycles. Now slap yourself and never do it again!

A rest stop on the OFMC’s first California trip.

When you’re seriously addicted to cruising on two wheels you’ll go to extremes to get your fix. I know I did when a company I once worked for sent me to Sacramento for a month. This was going to be an opportunity to ride some fabulous roads in a place too far from home for us to reach on our usual summer trips. How could I possibly spend a month in California and not have a bike to ride? I couldn’t.

My first thought was to ride my Honda from Denver to Sacramento so I would have it there. Instead, I took a simpler approach: I flew to Sacramento and bought a bike when I got there.

I arrived in Sacramento, picked up a rental car, checked into my hotel, and went to work the next day. As soon as work was over I drove to PCP Motorsports and asked to speak to the manager. Don “Badge” Bajurin, one of the owners, came out. “I’m going to be here for four weeks,” I told him, “and I’ve got to have a bike. Can we set something up where I’ll buy one of your used bikes and then you agree to buy it back from me, at a lower price, when I’m ready to leave?”

The thing about motorcycle dealers like Badge is they generally love bikes as much as or more than their customers. With the very clear understanding that if I crashed the bike the repurchase deal was off, he agreed. I seem to have gotten lucky, too, because Badge told me no other dealer in town would have made that kind of deal. But he was friends with Fay Myers, who runs a dealership in Denver, and he loves to go ride in Colorado on a bike provided by Myers. He understood the reverse was true for me. And I had a bike, a 1984 Honda Nighthawk 550.

False Start
I waited impatiently for the weekend and come Saturday morning I was rarin’ to go. But the bike wasn’t. Being in an unfamiliar place, with my bike parked in the open, I had taken a security measure I normally do not: I had locked the fork. The only problem was, in my unfamiliarity with this procedure, I had set it in a position where the fork was locked but the headlight was also on. Of course the battery was dead when I tried to start it.

I didn’t know that was the problem, though, so I called Badge. He sent a truck over to pick up the bike and they took it to the shop, checked it out, and charged the battery. Then they hauled it back to me, and they did this all at no charge. Nice guys!

And then I took off. With the late start I just blasted down through the Napa Valley on my way to Oakland, where I had friends and would spend the night. We went riding in the hills behind Oakland the next day and then it was back to Sacramento.

The following weekend I had to work on Saturday so that only left me Sunday. Being chronically overambitious, I figured I’d just take a quick cruise down through Yosemite National Park. That turned out to be one heck of a long day, much longer than I had anticipated, but a lot of fun just the same.

Saving the Best for Last
The best came last. On my third and final weekend I had two days and I took advantage of them. I headed west through Davis, up a canyon to Lake Berryessa. I stopped in the canyon and saw a huge blue heron take flight. I then looped around the southern end of the lake, on nice twisty roads, down into Napa Valley. I stopped at a couple wineries and then headed for the coast.

Through incredible good luck, I cut over on what proved to be a narrow, winding, often one-lane road through dense forest, along sheer hillsides, up and down, with curves galore. Following this Skaggs Springs Road I finally reached the ocean at Stewart’s Point, where I headed south along the coast on the fabled Highway 1. My stop for the night was Bodega Bay, where Alfred Hitchcock filmed “The Birds.”

In the morning I continued south to Point Reyes Station and then cut inland. From the coast to the Sonoma Valley to the Napa Valley to the Sacramento Valley it was one narrow, twisting road after another where my little 550 Nighthawk could really shine. What an absolutely glorious time!

Then it was time to sell the bike back to Badge and head home to Denver. This addict had gotten the fix of his lifetime.

Biker Quote for Today

We know you’re a poser if you’re too cool to wave at the kids in the mom-mobile in front of you.

John and Cindy on their arrival.

In this era of AirBnB it may not seem as odd as it once did to open your home to total strangers, but that is what the Motorcycle Travel Network (MTN) has been about since long before AirBnB ever existed. We have belonged to MTN for years and have been hosts and guests numerous times. We had a chance to be hosts again last week, and as always, we thoroughly enjoyed it.

John and Cindy are from Pennsylvania and they had been on the road on their new 1600cc Beemer for a month, mostly out in Utah. Being from the east, they had never spent time in Utah and were thrilled with the beauty of what they encountered. Of course, those of us who live out west are fully aware of what Utah has to offer. One of the beauties of MTN is that if we were to go to Pennsylvania, I fully expect John and Cindy could direct us to some places we are just as unfamiliar with.

It was a spur of the moment thing. I opened my email that morning and there was a note from them, from Grand Junction, asking if we could host them that night. I quickly checked with Judy, who assented, and I emailed back that we would be happy to have them. They called a few minutes later to ask if we had any route recommendations.

Mind you, this was just after our snowstorm last week so I may have done them a disservice. I mentioned the storm and suggested they just stick to I-70, that they might find Vail Pass covered in snow and ice, which would be bad enough. As it turned out, Vail Pass was totally clear with 60-degree temps. Maybe I should have suggested Loveland Pass. But I have no idea if it was clear then or not.

They arrived and turned out to be really nice folks. You always kind of wonder before you meet someone but we have never had a guest we wished we had not met, and many have been people we would love to see again. Maybe it’s just that the kind of person willing to stay with a total stranger is just going to be on the same wavelength of the person who is willing to open their home to a total stranger. Of course, you always know right from the start that you are going to have motorcycles in common.

As it turned out, we had much more in common with John and Cindy than just motorcycles. And this has been their experience in the group as well. John told us about several good friends of their who they have ridden with many times who they met through MTN. I guess it’s just a good bunch of people.

So come morning we decided to ride with them a ways. They were going to be heading east but staying south to avoid colder weather so we led them out Parker Road down to Franktown and then east on CO 86 to Kiowa. There we said our good-byes and turned north on the Kiowa-Bennett road and looped back home while they continued east.

And you know what? We have another MTN guest coming next week. Oh, boy! This is fun.

Biker Quote for Today

Nobody gives you freedom. If you’re a biker, you take it.

Summer is waning and there won’t be many more rides like this this year.

I was heading up Clear Creek Canyon when it started to rain. It was at that moment that it occurred to me that my rain suit was in the bag on the Honda. I was on the Concours. Not going to do me any good now.

No matter, it never rained hard. In fact, it was pretty cool. They were tiny drops and so rather than plummeting to earth they danced on the breeze, hanging semi-suspended. With backlighting from the sun, each individual drop was visible and scattered color around in a zillion mini-rainbows. I had my visor slightly cracked and so the moisture was coming in and wetting me around my mouth, which was also pleasant. Felt good.

It wasn’t long, though, before I was reminded that my number one job at the moment was riding the bike. A sharp curve brought that focus back very abruptly. Oh yeah, first things first.

As I climbed through the canyon I paid attention to the steep rock walls. Many years ago I became jaded, having been through this particular canyon so often that I lost all sense of its beauty. That appreciation has come back to me, however, and with the weather as it was it was particularly beautiful that day.

All along the road there were cars pulled over and people hiking and climbing and generally enjoying the day in the canyon. My focus was spread wide to take it all in. Then I passed into Tunnel 2 and was struck with the abrupt constricting of my focus–the literal reality of tunnel vision. No wide-ranging view, just the road ahead of me. I don’t recall it ever striking me with that force before.

Gaining in elevation as I was, it was getting cooler. This was the first time this fall I have used the electric vest and I was glad to have it on. And this was just a harbinger of the ride I took up Guanella Pass a couple days later. Summer is over. Pretty soon, chilly days like this are going to seem balmy and demand that I ride. Right now I’m just trying to take advantage whenever I can.

Later as I was headed home it occurred to me that I would be just in time to stop and have dinner with the RMMRC. Only one more big ride left this year and the next few meetings will be focused on rides for next year. I had planned to go on a bunch of them this year but family matters conflicted and those rides mostly didn’t happen.

The year is coming to a close and now my sights are on the future. I’m looking forward to a good 2018.

Biker Quote for Today

All I care about is riding . . . and like maybe three people and beer.

A beautiful day on the pass, even if I was too late for fall colors.

Sunday was warm and sunny, and you could still ride up onto Guanella Pass. I know, because I did. By Monday, not true. This may have been my last ride in the mountains in 2017.

I had been wanting to get up in the hills to enjoy some of the fall color but with my Mom ill I had been in South Carolina for awhile. Then I got back and we had almost two solid weeks of overcast and rain–not at all like typical Colorado weather. Finally the sun came out but other demands kept delaying me, until I realized it was Sunday or not at all. I geared up and headed out.

Not that I really geared up sufficiently. Heading out of town across Hampden/U.S. 285 I was already getting chilly but I did have my electric vest on so I flipped it to on. I was wearing long underwear and had multiple layers on top, but only my least warm gloves. And I had intended to wear my leather chaps but forgot them as I got ready.

No matter, the vest really did the job. With it pumping out heat, everything else abated.

My intention was just to run up Guanella Pass from the Georgetown side and then back the same way. I had other things I needed to do at home and going down to Grant and home on 285 would have taken a lot longer. But I began reconsidering as I saw all the traffic streaming down on I-70 and realized it was the dreaded Sunday afternoon. Maybe I better rethink this.

Off I-70 at Georgetown and starting up the pass. I didn’t really know for sure if the road was clear or if maybe it had ice on it at places. Turns out it was completely free of that kind of slippery stuff but in all — and I mean all — of the switchbacks there was plentiful gravel, obviously spread there to improve traction–for cars, not motorcycles. Take it slow; not a problem.

The V-Strom is a fun bike to ride on twisting mountain roads. It is (relatively) light and agile and every time I got clear of traffic in front of me I was able to whip it (except on the switchbacks). This is what makes riding in the mountains so fun. There were very strong winds in just a few spots but not for the most part. What caused those isolated blasts? Heck if I know.

So before I even got to Georgetown I knew I was too late for any color up on the pass, but there was snow alongside the road and on the hills, so that was a different kind of beauty. And the top of the pass is particularly scenic, as you can see to an extent in that photo above. Still worth the trip, especially if the real purpose of the trip was just to go for a ride.

I did decide to go back the way I came and then I was surprised to find that the dreaded Sunday afternoon traffic was absent. Maybe because Monday was Columbus Day and a holiday for some, and/or maybe because it is mud season, where it is too early to ski but too late to camp or do so many other summertime mountain activities. Whatever the reason, I blasted back down into town rarely going slower than 65. Often a good bit faster.

All in all, a nice day on the bike.

Biker Quote for Today

Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass, it’s about learning to ride in the rain.

Get off the pavement and have fun!

I hadn’t done any dirt-biking when my friend John offered me an opportunity. You can think of him as the pusher. “Try this, you’ll really like it,” he seems to say. Then you’re hooked. To maintain your habit, you can kiss your bank balance good-bye.

I didn’t get hooked but I got the craving. My V-Strom is a result of this.

John had a couple dirt bikes he and his son, Johnathon, would take up to the Rampart Range, an area in the hills outside of Denver given over to motorized fun on trails through the forest. They invited me along one day.

They were meeting up with other members of their extended family and this was the first time I ever saw how dirt-biking is such a family affair. It wasn’t just their own family. The campground area was packed with families and dirt bikes of all sizes, from pappa’s big bike, to momma’s mid-size bike, right down to baby’s little two-wheeler carrying young’uns who must have only learned to walk last year. And every one of them in full riding gear. Who even knew they made helmets and jackets and boots that small, not to mention motorcycles?

I have to tell you, I really envied these kids. I would have given anything I had to have had parents who took me dirt-biking as a kid. Instead, I had parents who wouldn’t even let me buy a bike with my own money.

So we went riding, and what a blast that was! First of all, being out in the woods and going up and down hills on these narrow trails is a kick. You never get going all that fast, but speed isn’t the point. That said, a bit of speed is the point when you’re going up and there’s a hump in the trail. “Whoops” as they’re called. You come up on that whoop and gun it and you’ll catch some air and that, I’m here to tell you, is fun. Catch several whoops in a row and you’re having serious fun. Did I mention that this can be addicting?

One big difference between riding in the dirt and riding on the street is that on the dirt you’re pretty much guaranteed to dump the bike from time to time. On the street that’s one of the biggest things you seek to avoid ever doing, but on the dirt it’s just part of the game. You don’t usually get hurt and neither does the bike.

Of course I dumped it more than once but I was right back up and on it and off down the trail. Talking about it at the end of the day I felt I had earned my wings when Johnathon told his dad, “Ken did pretty good. He even caught some air a few times.”

Not long afterward John sold the bikes and his trailer so I’ve never been back to the Rampart Range, and that was my only time to ride with them. But I got in some more dirt riding here and there and finally about four years ago got the V-Strom, which I consider a dual-sport bike, though some folks do not. But it has the suspension and it has the tires.

That day in the Rampart Range whetted my appetite as I started realizing how many, many unpaved roads there are through the Colorado mountains that I’ve never been on. I did finally pick the lock on my checkbook.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker if your wife has ever asked you to move the bike so she could see the TV better.

Stopping beside the road is not always your desire.

I read an article some while ago that said, “Nobody runs out of gas any more, not with dash lights and other geegaws reminding you to stop and fill up.” Obviously, they weren’t talking about motorcycles.

Most motorcycles don’t even have gas gauges. What they do have is a petcock that you turn to Reserve when the bike starts to sputter. Then you know you had better find a gas station fairly soon. Presumably you know how much fuel your reserve holds, you know how many miles you get to a gallon, and that tells you approximately how far you can get on what you’ve got left.

My Kawasaki Concours does have a gas gauge, but it’s in a minority. And even that is only a half-way measure because it still has reserve and once you flip that petcock the gauge just registers Empty and you’re judging your range as you would on any other bike.

I have run out of gas. More than once, on both the Honda and the Kawi. And you’ll rarely meet a rider who hasn’t also run out, at least on occasion.

Now, riding with the OFMC I have never run out, for the simple reason that all my bikes have bigger gas tanks than any of the other guys’ bikes. They need to gas up long before I do so as long as I do the same I’m golden. And I carry a long plastic surgical tube so that if need be we can siphon gas from my tank to one of theirs, though that has never been necessary.

That fact is largely due to John’s experience on one of our early trips. He and Bill and I were blasting north through Wyoming on I-25, heading for Deadwood, SD, and I was in the lead. I noticed they had dropped back so I slowed down and after awhile I pulled over. The customary thing in this situation is to wait, with the assumption that they’ll be along soon. If they don’t come along soon you head back to see what the hold-up is.

So I sat there a while, too long, and turned back. I hadn’t gone far and there they were, going the direction I was now coming from, so I turned around again. We all pulled off and they filled me in.

John had run out of gas and hadn’t thought to flip to reserve, so he coasted to a stop. Bill pulled over to offer aid. They quickly deduced the problem, but even after John switched to reserve the bike wouldn’t start because the fuel line had been drained dry and he couldn’t get any gas to the carburetor. Most motorcycles don’t have fuel pumps, it’s simply a gravity flow system.

So they tried jump starting. We were on flat land and Bill pushed and pushed and pushed while John tried to get the thing going. Finally, about the time Bill was ready to die from his work-out the bike did start, and after he trudged his way back to his own bike they were finally on their way again.

Ever since then John is a total fanatic about getting gas long before he even reaches reserve. He also instructed his son, Johnathon, in this approach so a few years later, on another trip, when the bike Johnathon was on started sputtering he had no idea what was happening because he had never gone to reserve before.

Me, I hit reserve regularly. The only problem is when you forget to switch the petcock back to the regular tank when you gas up. Then, if you’re not paying attention to how many miles you’ve ridden, when the bike starts to sputter, guess what? You’re out of gas. Trust me on this, I know.

Biker Quote for Today

You’re a biker wannabe if you spend more time shining your bike than riding it.