Passes & Canyons Blog

Day 3 broke cloudy and cooler and was much more bearable. First off, however, JC needed an oil change for his new Slingshot at 600 miles to Yuki had picked up the oil and filter and made an appointment to have it done in Rexburg. He met JC at 7 a.m. and led him over there–and hour away–while the rest of us slept in. Then we got on the road and met JC and Yuki in Ashton. Yuki, you’re a good man.

U.S. 20 took us north until it started bending east toward West Yellowstone, at which point we turned west and north on Idaho 87. That brought us to U.S. 287 and lunch time found us in Ennis, Montana, where it became necessary to make a stop at Willie’s Distillery. You will recall, of course, that Willie–our Willie–was the organizer of this trip. And we had lunch, too.

From Ennis we needed to get to Butte, and the best, most direct route would have been on Montana 359, but Jungle was so focused on the cars in front of him slowing to make the turn onto that road that he did not see the signs and so we blew on past. Judy and I noted this and presumed he had not been confident that this small road was paved all the way and had decided to go a little further to catch Montana 2 to join I-90 at Cardwell. When Jungle, who we later learned was still looking for 359, got to the left-right option at Montana 2 and turned right–the wrong way–I ran up close on his rear flashing my brights but he just kept on going.

Truth be told, there was nowhere at all on this little two-lane with no shoulder at all where we could have pulled over or safely gotten four bikes and two Slingshots turned around. So I settled in behind him knowing highway 2 would also hit I-90 at Three Forks Junction, just adding 25 miles to our ride. This, of course, on top of the extra 10 miles added by not turning onto 359.

Interstate 90 west to Butte was brutal but we finally reached exit 208 to Anaconda, where we were supposed to have met Terry, who had gone ahead in her Porsche (and had not missed the turns). Of course she was not still waiting; we had called her and told her we would be late.

We were now on Montana 1 headed to our day’s destination, Philipsburg. But our hassles weren’t over. We came upon road work and waited awhile in what was now about the hottest sun we’d encountered all day and once we got going we found we were facing nearly 15 miles of fresh chip seal. As in mucho, mucho loose gravel and absolutely no way to avoid it. But passing through some beautiful country on a very twisty road. I strongly recommend this route any time they’re not doing a chip seal.

We finally got past the road work and on to Philipsburg, a very nice old town enjoying a rejuvenation, and stayed in the beautifully renovated Kaiser House hotel where, at Willie’s direction, Terry had arranged a spread of wines and cheeses and sausage and crackers awaiting us.

What a relief to shed the leathers and dive in.

Biker Quote for Today

I don’t have a bucket list but my bike-it list is pretty long.

Starting out Day 2 we cruised over to the canyon overlooks by the Flaming Gorge Visitor Center before heading to Manila for breakfast. The Red Canyon Lodge serves dinner but not breakfast so we got going pretty quickly this morning. The route was a bit further north on U.S. 191 then left onto Utah 44.

From Manila we headed northwest on Utah 43 to the state line and then Wyoming 414 to Mountain View, under I-80, and on north on Wyoming 412 to U.S. 189 and north to Kemmerer.

At Kemmerer Jungle made a mistake the rest of us appreciated when he passed U.S. 30 and took us almost into town. There was a gas station so we stopped for gas. Relief! By this time it was starting to be clear that the rest of us like to stop and get off the bikes more frequently than the 125-150 miles Jungle seems to prefer. So starting at Kemmerer we took more frequent gas stops even though nobody was truly low on gas.

And yes, once again it was blazing hot. I’ve learned that I need Gatorade or something of that sort to ward of dehydration on days like this so Kemmerer got a little more sales tax out of me.

We went back the very short distance to U.S. 30 and followed it past Cokeville almost to the Idaho state line, where we picked up the north-south Wyoming 89 that serves as a shortcut around Montpelier, Idaho. Then we joined U.S. 89 on north into Wyoming’s beautiful Star Valley.

Past Afton, to Thayne, and a little beyond and we came to a very important stop, an ice cream shop we had been told about. The Old Mill Ice Cream shop serves single scoops that are as big as the double scoops you get most places. And everyone knows how important ice cream is when you’re traveling on motorcycles.

From there we continued north to Alpine, and Alpine Junction, where U.S. 26 took us northwest into Idaho and along the shore of Palisades Reservoir, which was one heck of a great ride. Absolutely gorgeous.

Once past the lake we turned northeast on Idaho 31 to Victor and then Idaho 33 to Driggs. We checked into our motel, had badly needed showers, and then spent the rest of the evening in the large, luxurious mobile home of Willie and Jungle’s friend Yuki, who lives in Driggs. This is a thing about traveling with Willie and Jungle. People they know come join you for a while and then peel off. We’ll meet a lot more of their friends along the way.

Yuki provided beer and wine, a variety of munchies, and we got so settled in we canceled our dinner reservation and sent a team out for a couple pizzas.

Two hard days under our belts and we’re having a great time.

Biker Quote for Today

Life is a highway, I wanna ride it all night long.

We got away from Willie and Jungle’s place in Eagle not even an hour later than planned–not bad for eight people in/on seven vehicles. Destination: Banff and Jasper.

The line-up as we left, which remained largely the same through much of the trip, was Jungle in the lead on his Honda Interceptor, Judy and me on my Concours, followed by Donna on her Star Silverado. Then came Jean, Donna’s sister, in a Polaris Slingshot she rented. I say “in” because as far as I’m concerned, that thing is a three-wheeled car, not a motorcycle. And in Colorado this last legislative session, they created a new vehicle class for this sort of thing, called “autocycle.”

Next was JC in his own Slingshot. Brand new, just delivered the day before and already the speedometer doesn’t work. JC had been planning to ride his Harley but he was taken by the thought of Jean’s Slingshot so he tried to rent one, too. They didn’t have any more so he said, “OK, sell me one.” They didn’t have any to sell either so he called a dealer in Denver, bought it, and had it delivered to Vail.

Following JC was Terry in her Porsche Carrera 2, and Willie rode sweep on her Yamaha FJ1100.

That was the crew as we headed west on I-70 through Glenwood Canyon to Rifle and then north on Colorado 13 to County Road 5, which skirts west and north avoiding Meeker, and up to Colorado 64, where we turned west to Rangely and on to Dinosaur, where we picked up U.S. 40. Then west to Vernal. All this way it was blazing hot and in Vernal it was 103 degrees. We were being cooked!

At Vernal we turned north on U.S. 191 to a turn-off for the Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area and also the Red Canyon Lodge, our destination for the day. The coolness at this higher elevation was much appreciated and the forest setting of the lodge made for a great stopping point.

The two folks in the Slingshots couldn’t rave enough about how much fun they were having in those things.

Me, I was just glad Judy and I were doing well on the Concours. We haven’t done a lot of long-distance rides together so I had been a bit apprehensive. But we did great. That’s a good thing because we had 12 more days and about 3,000 more miles ahead of us.

Biker Quote for Today

I love to ride; I hate to arrive.

One of the sweetest joys of riding a motorcycle is being out there in the world you’re passing through. That’s as opposed to being enclosed in a steel cage, peering out through a windshield that limits your view, shut off from the smells and other sensory inputs of the world around you.

And then you throw buffalo into the mix.

I was in Yellowstone National Park awhile back, and if there is one thing you can count on for sure in Yellowstone it is getting held up along the road by people stopping to photograph wildlife. Some pull over, while others stop in the middle of the road. Sometimes the animals themselves stop the traffic because they are roaming free and have decided to roam right there on the road.

So why does a buffalo cross the road? To get to the other side? Perhaps. And if you’re in a car and they’re crossing right in front of you, you’ve got some separation from that 1,500-pound critter with those pointy horns. It’s a little dicier when you’re on a bike.

There I was, in a mass of traffic intermingled with numerous “Bison bison” (the official Latin name for the beast). It wasn’t a threatening situation but I would have had to have been asleep not to be conscious of my vulnerability. Suppose one of those bulls suddenly feels threatened, or a protective cow gets worried about her young’un. Let’s just say I was very alert. And I made sure not to make direct eye contact with any of the big ones because I’ve heard that they consider that a challenge.

That may not have been the case with another motorcycle tourer I’m familiar with. Gary France is a Brit who some years ago took an American odyssey on a rented Harley-Davidson. Gary, who had been in Sturgis at the same time I was, also headed on to Yellowstone about the same time I did. He also found himself stopped on the road by buffalo, and he describes what happened next:

“The big bull gets most of the way across the road . . . and then turns back right in front of us! He seemed a bit upset and was snorting . . . he was about 10 feet away from me, when I looked sideways and saw the other two bikers getting off their bikes preparing to retreat . . . I kept taking pictures as I wondered what to do . . . I too then retreated. A park ranger in a car came driving up and put his car between the bull and us. He with the aid of his megaphone (told) the three of us to move even further back and get into a car. Any car.”

It all ended well, but you get the picture. I can’t help but wonder what it must have been like to visit Yellowstone on a motorcycle years ago, back in the days when bears used to hang out along the roads hoping that tourists would feed them. You almost never see bears in Yellowstone now, because management policies have been changed to discourage them from coming around, but I’d feel a lot more insecure meeting a bear on the road than a buffalo.

It kind of puts a different spin on the term, “a walk in the park,” doesn’t it?

Biker Quote for Today

Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.

Forty miles out of town and there’s some green fluid dripping. Oh, no! There’s no mistaking coolant, and on a day with temperatures in the 90s this could be seriously bad.

I had been up to Loveland to demo ride some BMW motorcycles, one of which, the R1200RT, I loved. Now headed home to Denver I stopped in Berthoud to visit their museum and see the current exhibit on Floyd Clymer, the renowned racer and publisher of motorcycle repair manuals. Floyd was a local boy who made good. Ready to leave, I was getting back on the bike, my ’99 Kawasaki Concours.

I’d caught just a whiff of the coolant earlier but didn’t think anything of it. I figured somebody else must be leaking fluid; it never occurred to me that it might be coming from my bike. Now that steady drip, drip, drip had my total attention.

What to do? Did I dare to ride it? And how could my Kawi be giving me trouble? It’s the bike that had always been 100 percent reliable, unlike my 38-year-old Honda that knows it’s 38 years old.

I decided to chance it, with my eye glued to the temperature gauge and ready to shut it off immediately if the needle started to enter the danger zone. With luck, running the bike at highway speeds would keep everything cool and the drip would abate. But if I got into the heart of Denver and hit a traffic jam there could be trouble. I’d have to play it by ear.

I pulled away and headed down the road and everything was fine. The needle stayed well on the cool side. I stayed in the right-hand lane, took it easy, and checked the gauge about every 30 seconds all the way to Denver. Coming through downtown on the highway the traffic flowed smoothly and things looked good.

Santa Fe Drive would be the next hazard. It’s a major road with only a few stoplights, but could I get through them all on the green? And what would that needle do if I did get stopped?

One by one I made it until I reached the last light I had to go through. It turned red. It seemed like it was red for a long time. And the needle started climbing. And climbing. “Oh, please let me just get to Joel’s shop. I’m only two miles away now.”

Finally the green and I was moving again. The needle didn’t drop but at least it stopped climbing. Joel was out front as I pulled in, turned the key, and got off.

“Joel, I’ve got a problem!”

No need for a big explanation; the drip told the whole story. A problem with an O-ring, Joel told me. He’d have it fixed that day, and once again I got lucky. In four days I was headed for Sturgis on that bike. If that O-ring had failed four days later . . .

Biker Quote for Today

Live life to the fullest. Forget drama, depression, and all that kinda crap. Be a happy person now!! Go for a ride!!!

You climb through the Big Thompson Canyon heading west out of Loveland with the river crashing down through this jagged granite gorge. Worthy of the ride all by itself, the canyon is just the appetizer as U.S. 34 continues through Estes Park and then the entrée is served: Trail Ridge Road.

Crossing Rocky Mountain National Park over the Continental Divide, Trail Ridge Road is the highest continuous motorway in the United States and a must-do ride for motorcyclists coming to Colorado. Reaching 12,183 feet at its highest point, the road stretches for more than 8 miles above 11,000 feet, well above timberline and offering spectacular views and its own brand of weather.

Warning to bikers: Do not dress for summer on this ride, even if it is blazing hot down lower where you’re starting out from.

You enter the park and loop around West Horseshoe Park, passing throngs of tourists with cameras blazing away at a flock of bighorn sheep. The sky is blue above but the dark, threatening clouds you’ve been eyeing all morning sit ominously to the south. Keep going.

But you can’t ride this road without stopping, so you pull over at several of the many turn-outs, especially Rainbow Curve, where the entire valley and the winding road you’ve just ridden are laid out below you. This is why you brought the camera.

The climb continues and then you’re above timberline, and two things demand your attention. First, the road is torn up for resurfacing, leaving loose sand and gravel in many places and just generally lousy road everywhere else. Second, the wind has picked up, that threatening cloud is now not far away at all, and the temperature has dropped about 20 degrees. Time for extra layers and gloves.

You loop along above timberline, through broad sweepers, up and down tundra-covered hills, and through a narrow notch cut through rock on one particularly steep curve. You’ve now passed the highest point in the road, and coming around a curve you descend a bit to the Alpine Visitor Center. Time to go inside, get warm, and have a bit of lunch.

Sitting in the restaurant at a table by a window you peer down the steep drop below you, watching a marmot scamper across a snowfield that never melts. Clouds the color of a nasty bruise now hang directly overhead and it would be raining except that it’s too cold to rain. Instead, tiny frozen raindrops tinkle against the window and ricochet off the rocks below you.

Forty-five minutes later the valley below you is completely obscured by clouds but overhead the sun is trying to poke through. You head back to the bike and pull out the rain gear because the road is now wet and there are still clouds to be wary of.

Down you ride, around Medicine Bow Curve, and then you parallel a canyon far below for several miles. Just over Milner Pass there is a crowd pulled over and there are elk with huge racks grazing and sparring. Time again for the camera.

From there the route is down, down, and down, and you exit the park. The town of Grand Lake glides by as do Shadow Mountain Lake and Lake Granby. U.S. 34 ends just west of the town of Granby, where it meets U.S. 40. From here its either west to Steamboat Springs or east over Berthoud Pass and back to Denver. East it is.

Biker Quote for Today

I ride because when everything in life is wrong it’s the only thing that’s right.