Passes & Canyons Blog

Judy shot this from behind me as we cruised through British Columbia on the rented Harley.

Judy went straight to the core: “The worst thing about renting a motorcycle is that it’s not your own.”

She was right on the money in two senses. First, unless you rent a bike that is just like the one you ride at home, you’re on an unfamiliar machine. Second, if you damage a rented bike it’s probably going to cost you a lot more money than if you did the same damage to your own.

This was all very much on both our minds a few years ago as we spent two days riding in British Columbia on a rented Harley-Davidson Electra Glide Classic. We chose the Electra Glide because it was the only bike the company had that came with full passenger accommodations and I wanted Judy to have the ultimate in comfort. The consequence of that choice was that we were not only on an unfamiliar machine, but on an extremely heavy unfamiliar machine.

I consider my wife to be the most precious cargo I ever carry and I had never before taken her on a bike I was not already thoroughly familiar with. The idea of climbing on this bike for the first time, her climbing on behind me, and riding off made me a bit nervous. But I took it easy, and was cautious, and all went well at the start.

I quickly started learning about the quirks of the bike, however. I’m accustomed to coming to a stop and putting my feet down at a point where I can plant them for maximum stability. On the Electra Glide, I would put my feet down and think I had solid footing but with the bike still rolling just a bit the passenger floorboards would run up against my calves and push my feet forward. That doesn’t happen on any of my three bikes. The buddy pegs are back further on all of them.

Things like that I could adjust to but I never adjusted to the extreme weight of this bike. It has a low center of gravity so it’s very stable on the highway, but at slow speeds it can tip and if that much weight once gets going sideways there’s nothing I could do to restrain it.

The issue really presented itself in the parking garage at the place we were staying in Whistler. The floor was very smooth, slippery concrete and the turns to get to where we needed to park were numerous and very tight. With either of my bikes I could navigate that route easily, and with a lot more experience on the Electra Glide I could probably do the same, but I didn’t have that experience. After a couple times we made it easier by Judy getting off or on at the entrance to the garage.

The issue of cost was also ever present in my mind. My Honda is old and is only worth maybe $700. If I did damage to it that would cost $2,000 to repair I’d probably just buy another old, used bike for a lot less. My Kawasaki is also getting older but I carry collision insurance on it, with a $250 deductible. And I only paid $3,000 for the Suzuki.

With this rental we had the option of paying $18 a day and having a $2,000 deductible, or $24 a day and having a $1,000 deductible. We went with the lower deductible but that still meant we could be liable for $1,000. Our rental was costing us $350 for two days already and the thought of it costing $1,350 was not comforting.

Of course, I never expected to do any damage to the bike, but that’s why they call them “accidents.” And while we never did have even any close encounters with other vehicles, there was one time when I came perilously close to dropping the bike.

We were on a very scenic stretch of road and turned into a pull-out to have a better look. The pull-out was gravel, and the gravel turned out to be deeper than I anticipated. With that big, heavy machine that I was not all that familiar with, it was an incredibly tense moment.

Within the space of six heartbeats I alternated between believing we were going down, to profound relief that I had recovered it, to certainty that we were going down, to elation that we weren’t, to horror once more, and finally to breathing a huge, huge sigh of relief as the bike finally came to a stop upright. I’m sure the only thing that enabled me to keep that bike up was adrenaline.

Bottom line: We’ll never rent that heavy a bike again. And while it’s great to be able to fly off somewhere far away and then have a bike to ride, it’s not all pleasure. We had a great time but next time we’ll have a much better idea of what to expect.

Biker Quote for Today

I’m not addicted to my motorcycle, we’re just in a committed relationship.

A shot from the 2009 Show & Swap.

Two more motorcycle events have been canceled due to Covid 19.

The Last Brass Monkey Run, the annual last-day-of-the-year event put on by ABATE of Colorado, has been canceled.

Larry Montgomery, ABATE state rep, said in the latest issue of the Spokesman, ABATE’s member newsletter, “At this time we are temporarily on hold for the Last Brass Monkey Run that was to be held on December 31, 2020, at the Rock Rest Bar & Grill in Golden. We are still going to make available to anyone that would renew at this event to be able to renew online December 31, 2020, and you will receive your Brass Nuts in the mail along with your membership card. For those that do not renew, but would still want or need the Brass Nuts for this year we will make arrangements to get them to you for a $5.00 donation to ABATE. We will need mailing info to send them to you.”

This would have been the 33rd Last Brass Monkey Run so once again, a long-standing tradition bites the dust thanks to the coronavirus.

Also canceled is the 2021 Colorado Motorcycle Expo, the event that takes the place of the old Colorado Motorcycle Show & Swap.

I also got word of this cancellation through the Spokesman, where Mike Cole, ABATE District 17 rep, said, “We talked to you last month about your interest in attending the Colorado Motorcycle Expo in 2021, while we did get a response from you and it appeared that many were not going to attend, the decision has been made for us, the 2021 Expo has been canceled and I believe you all know why, unless you have been living in a virus bubble?”

ABATE had been debating having its usual booth at the Expo and had asked members if they planned to attend the Expo. I had replied that I for one did not plan to go, and I listed my concerns in this post about the event. Man, the folks who bought out that event have got to be losing their shirts on this badly timed acquisition.

But we can take heart from the fact that vaccines appear to be on the way. Maybe by next summer my listing of upcoming events will once again be packed with rides and rallies.

In the meantime, we can all still ride alone, which I prefer anyway–most of the time. To set the mood, I pulled up some old biker quotes about riding alone:

• Riding faster than everyone else only guarantees you’ll ride alone.
• The road is only open when you ride alone.
• I can tell better stories when I ride alone, but I have better time when I ride with friends.
• He who rides alone can start today.
• If you cannot find a good companion to ride with, ride alone, like an elephant roaming the jungle. It is better to be alone than to be with those who will hinder your progress.
• Motorcycles are better than men because your motorcycle never wants a night out alone with the other motorcycles.

Biker Quote for Today

I don’t know why they got mad. All I said was that in order to be a biker your motorcycle needs to leave your yard.

Tires are pretty important, do ya think?

At our last stop one year, as the OFMC headed toward Espanola, NM, I had mentioned to Randy that the tread on his front tire was getting pretty thin and he’d be needing a new tire by the time we got home from this trip. He shrugged it off, saying he figured he’d let it go till next spring because after this trip he wouldn’t be riding that much more the rest of this year.

We pulled over for another break at Ojo Caliente and he apparently took second look, and also checked his rear tire.

“I’m concerned,” he told us. “I’ve got another 500 miles to ride to get back to Denver and I don’t think my back tire’s going to make it.”

We crouched down behind his bike to inspect the tire.

“It looks OK to me,” said someone.

“Roll it forward,” I said. “Let’s see the whole tire.”

Sure enough, as we saw the whole tire, there was a spot about 2 inches by 3 inches where there was no rubber at all, just the steel belt showing through.

“You’re not going home on that tire,” I told him. “You need to ride the extra 25 miles into Santa Fe and have that replaced before you do anything else.”

I knew the situation Randy was facing. Once before, at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, I had noted to the other guys that my tread on my rear tire was getting pretty thin. And then when I checked it again the next day it was almost nonexistent. We had gasped at how quickly rubber can be worn away when a tire is ready to give up the ghost. Then in April of this year I had ridden down to Scottsdale expecting my tires to get me home and found myself immediately hitting a shop there for new ones as the tread vanished before my eyes on the way down.

With the tread completely gone, Randy had no business going anywhere except straight to the nearest shop. But he had other ideas.
Maybe Santa Fe was only 25 miles away, but, he said, it was in the wrong direction. He made some phone calls and found a shop in Alamosa, back in Colorado, where they had the right tire in stock and could take care of him as soon as he arrived. Never mind that it was 115 miles away.

Long story short, he made it OK. Friggs went with him as a back-up but the tire got him there. Was there more belt showing when they reached Alamosa? You better believe it. I would never have ridden that far on that tire, and I thought Randy was an idiot for doing it, but fortune was smiling on him that day.

They say it’s better to be lucky than to be smart. Me, I’d just as soon give my luck a helping hand by making wise choices.

Biker Quote for Today

Why motorcycles are better than women: Motorcycles’ curves never sag.

Looking at the north end of Golden from the parking lot of Buffalo Bill’s grave.

We’ve had some really nice weather the last couple days so I had to go ride. Normally, with Wednesday forecast for a high around 72 there is no question there would have been an RMMRC ride. However, with the coronavirus flaring up in a big way, the RMMRC sent out a note earlier this week that for the time being all rides and events are suspended. I guess I’ll have to do this on my own.

It’s times like this when I get antsy to move somewhere else. I’ve been out on the plains way too much lately but going to the hills means riding half an hour across town both ways. It makes me jealous of Bill, who lives right alongside CO 93 running up from Golden to Boulder. He gets on his bike and he’s in the hills in five minutes.

But I did head west. I took Hampden/US 285 to C-470 and got off at Morrison. I was going to run up that road to Kittredge on CO 74 but just like the last time I tried that the road was closed. I figured the work they had been doing several weeks ago would be finished, but no. Wonder what they’re doing?

So I took the Hogback Road that runs up past Red Rocks, under I-70, and turned left onto old US 6 up through Mount Vernon Canyon. I wasn’t sure yet where I was headed but about this time I decided I’d take the turn-off over to Lookout Mountain and the Buffalo Bill grave site. That’s a nice road and you get several stunning views of the plains laid out below.

I stopped at Buffalo Bill’s to get that photo above and then headed on down. What I was already surprised at was how many other people on motorcycles had the same idea. Also, not a surprise, there were at least as many people on bicycles.

I started heading down and came up on a guy on a bicycle. I could have passed him but I’ve seen these folks on hills like this. I figured he’d actually want to go faster than I did. I was right. We neared the first sharp curve and he started scorching. Within seconds he was gone. I was in no hurry.

So I cruised on down, waving to any number of other bikers coming up, and then suddenly two bicyclists went blasting past me. Holy crap! I hadn’t been looking in my mirrors because what was there to look for? And I got passed one more time before I got to the bottom.

A note: the lower end of the Lookout Mountain road has been newly paved and they have added four speed bumps in the area where there are houses around.

I got down to CO 93 and one of the first things I saw was a motorcycle cop, and this guy was wearing just a short-sleeve shirt. I had a tee shirt, a flannel shirt, a vest, and my leather jacket. That’s how warm it was. Beautiful day in November.

Then from there I just headed home.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker if you don’t go a day without wearing something that says “Harley Davidson.”

How soon can I get this little guy on two wheels?

We have one grandson, now two years old, and I’m already thinking about making a motorcyclist out of him. Of course there may be an issue in his mother not sharing my intent. (Rolling eyes innocently skyward.)

When his mother was younger she declined all offers to ride behind me. She found it scary. Later, when she was living on her own and didn’t have a car I suggested she get a scooter. That was too scary.

So we haven’t talked about this in regard to Jack but I suspect she may be like my own mother. As I have recited here numerous times, I planned to get a small motorcycle (50cc!) when I turned of age and once that day arrived–and not one day sooner–my mother informed me that “You’ll never own a motorcycle as long as you live in my house.”

What’s Grampa to do?

Well, first–obviously–we need to get him riding a bicycle. I know Mom doesn’t object to that; in fact, they may already have a small bike at home that he’s learning on. I guess nowadays you start out on really small two-wheelers with no pedals. That way they learn to balance and coast. Then as they get bigger you move up to a bike with pedals.

If we were a dirt-bike family the next step would be a very small powered bike. I suspect what will go over better will be one of those little motorized scooters, the stand up kind, not the Vespa sort. That will give him a chance to learn about going faster, what power can do for you and what concerns come with speed.

After that it might get tricky. I know there are these little electric-powered bikes that are sold as toys for kids. They don’t go fast and are meant just to ride around on your block. I’ve seen some kids on the other side of our block riding one and they basically just circle our block. It’s just a fun toy; Mom won’t object to that will she? At least not too much?

OK, even just at this point, if I had had one of those things when I was a kid I would have been in heaven. Back then they had these little gas motors that you could put on your bicycle to provide power and I really wanted one, but I had like zero money so it just was not going to happen. One of these toy things would have been fabulous.

At the next step I may simply have to do something I’ve wanted to do for years: get a small electric scooter for myself (the Vespa kind). Surely Mom won’t mind terribly if I take Jack for a ride on that(?). And when I figure he’s ready maybe he and I could go somewhere safe and I could just let him take it for a spin the way I’m sure by then he will be begging me to do. (Don’t tell your Mom I let you do this.)

And maybe a little later I could get a small dirt bike–for myself!–that I just might let him try out. No better way to learn than riding on dirt.

Yeah, I know. If he ever got hurt doing any of this I’d be in deep stuff. And if Mom has expressly forbidden it and I do it anyway that is not particularly conducive to family harmony. So I’m going to have to be very attentive to her attitude and do what I can to sway her over the years. But I want to share what I care so much about with that little guy. And I have to believe he’s going to want it, too. He already sees me on my bikes and thinks they’re pretty darn cool.

Come on Mama, let that boy rock and (especially) roll!

Biker Quote for Today

You’re gonna need a rider anyhow, let me be your rider now. — Mark Knopfler

Yeah, I felt like an idiot when I dropped it this time.

When I used to fly a hang-glider it was common knowledge that if someone had a bad crash it was more than likely that they would give up flying. Well, I did have a bad crash and I never flew again but it wasn’t what you might think. I got my glider repaired and I took it out to fly several times but you can only fly when the weather conditions are right. Each time I tried the weather did not cooperate.

It was at that point that I decided to sell my hang-glider and use the money to buy a motorcycle. I figured with a motorcycle I could ride any time I chose to–none of this loading up, driving to the site, setting up, waiting all day for the wind to be right, breaking down, driving home, and never doing what I came to do. With a bike, as soon as I threw my leg over I would be doing what I came to do.

But as we all know, that same business about never riding again after a crash is common among motorcyclists. Friggs, now a former OFMC member, had a crash two years ago and got rid of his bike. Todd, another short-term OFMC member, crashed and never rode again. My next door neighbor had a bike when he moved in but he soon sold it. He hadn’t ridden in the three years since he had a crash. This is not uncommon.

I do understand this. I’ve only crashed once, and that was at slow speed so no injury, but it may be the circumstances conspired to my advantage. I had been out on the gravel road that runs alongside the Platte River up by Deckers, with my girlfriend of that time on behind. As we cruised slowly past a couple parked cars a big dog came out from between them, right into our path. We didn’t hit the dog but we did go down.

Not surprisingly, we were pretty shook up. But what were we to do? We were way out there and had to get ourselves and the bike home somehow. So we got back on and rode home. Doing so was very unnerving but there’s that old line about getting back on the horse right after it has thrown you. That may have been a good thing.

Then, a few years later, shortly after I bought the Concours, Judy and I rode out to Eldorado Canyon. What I didn’t count on was that the parking lot was gravel. I got parked with no problem but when it came time to leave it was a different matter.

You have to understand, the Concours is a very tall bike and I had only had it a very short time. I was very intimidated about turning around on this sloping gravel. Of course I told Judy to stand by while I got turned around but I did not make the turn. I dropped the bike. There were guys around who rushed to help me get it back up and turned around but now Judy and I had to ride home, and I was shook. Right at that moment I really didn’t want to get back on the bike.

But what were we going to do? We got on and rode home. Again, that was probably a good thing. Get right back on the horse.

So what will happen if I ever have a bad crash on the bike? I don’t think anyone can truly answer that question until it really happens but I look back at my hang-glider crash and it didn’t deter me. I hope I never find out definitively.

Biker Quote for Today

Why motorcycles are better than women: A motorcycle will kill you quickly…a woman takes her time.

I love having three bikes, partly because they’re so different and each has its own strength.

I maintain the iron rule that I ride each of my motorcycles at least once every single month. (I did finally miss two months following heart surgery two years ago.) As such, when we get to this time of year it pays to be preemptive. You never know when the weather will turn and your plans to ride next week get shot to pieces.

The weather so far in November has been spectacular. Plenty of time to get in at least three rides. So on Monday I was planning to ride one bike, then a second on Tuesday, and the third on Wednesday going on an RMMRC ride. Then life stepped in.

Judy and I had been hoping to squeeze in one last camping trip this year and on Monday she said let’s go camping–today. There was no way I could say no to that, nor would I want to, so Pawnee Buttes here we came. I can ride later.

Of course, that shot Tuesday as a day to ride as well but I could still go with the RMMRC on Wednesday.

Then I woke up on Wednesday feeling decidedly under the weather. Of course probably the first thing most people think of at this moment when they feel sick is, is this Covid? I didn’t figure it was but even if it was just a cold I saw no reason to share it with others so I did not ride with the RMMRC. Besides, I felt like crap.

Now the situation was turning. The weather forecast said the nice days were going to end soon. Snow was projected for Monday. Fortunately, on Thursday, I was feeling quite a bit better. Is that all this cold has to throw at me? Hah! That’s nothing. So I went out on the CB750. Then on Friday I rode the Concours.

On Saturday the cold–which is what I had deemed it to be by this point–came back to bite me and I was not feeling good. But I had that V-Strom to ride and snow was still being forecast for Monday. Sure the likelihood is that after a brief cold spell things will get nice again, but I’ve learned not to trust that assumption. So on Saturday I rode the V-Strom. I made it serve double duty as I stopped off at Walgreen’s to pick up some throat lozenges and Tylenol. And then Sunday I was still feeling like crap, spending most of the day on the couch trying to breathe through all the sinus congestion.

But I got the bikes ridden. I sure hope that’s not the last riding I do in November, but if it is, I did get each one out.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker when you make your bike payment before any other bills are paid.

Ripple Creek Pass is beautiful but not the kind of road you want to take a highway bike on, unless you’re very adventurous.

In the early days of the OFMC we were still exploring the roads around Colorado. Nowadays we’ve been pretty much everywhere so it’s rare to find ourselves on new roads, although it does still happen on occasion.

One early experience we had, that turned out to be something we did not expect, was Ripple Creek Pass.

John and Bill and I were headed to Utah on our bikes. Having been that way so often before, John, our master of maps, was looking for a route we hadn’t been on. He found it in Ripple Creek Pass.

Colorado 131 comes down from Steamboat Springs to hit I-70 at Wolcott. About midway on that route, at the small town of Yampa, the Flat Tops Trail Scenic Byway heads west, crossing over Dunckley Pass and Ripple Creek Pass as it skirts the Flat Tops Wilderness. At its western terminus, 65 miles away, the road comes out to Meeker, along CO 13.

“Let’s take this road,” John said. “There’s about 10 miles of gravel but it shouldn’t be too bad, and the country we’ll be going through should be spectacular.”

Bill and I were game, so off we went.

Heading out of Yampa the road was good, smooth gravel, the kind you can ride a street bike on all day with no problem. We wound over some hills and through some ranching valleys, enjoying the high plains beauty of western Colorado.

Then the road started climbing, and it also started getting rougher. Washboard became the norm, not the exception. This was the kind of surface that dual-sport motorcycles are made for, but not street bikes. No big deal; we can handle 10 miles. Except, hadn’t we already gone almost 10 miles? That pavement was going to look good.

The further we rode, the more civilization gave way to nature. Pine forest and mountainsides replaced grassy valleys, and we continued to climb. The washboard continued, the miles passed by, and the fillings in our teeth were in danger of being shaken loose. We were well past any 10 miles by now.

Up over Dunckley Pass we rode and down the other side. The origin of the name Flat Tops Wilderness was evident in those un-pointy mountains to the south of us. Heading up Ripple Creek Pass, this was nature at its grandest but by now our minds were not so much on the scenery as on the seemingly endless miles of rough gravel. Our master of maps had read this one wrong.

Along the way John went down on his brand new Honda Shadow. He was leading and decided to pull over and ran into deep sand. That’s why it’s good to have buddies along when you’re riding this sort of road.

Over Ripple Creek Pass we fared and down to Buford, where the long-awaited pavement finally showed its face. We had ridden fully 50 miles on gravel that was now smooth, now wretched. Our faith in John’s map-reading skills was tested sorely. But for now, let’s just burn up some miles.
And don’t go proposing any unpaved roads again anytime soon.

Biker Quote for Today

We know you’re a poser if you don’t own a rain suit.