Passes & Canyons Blog

I went recently with the RMMRC on a fall color ride and Ralf was the leader and organizer. I know Ralf and I’ve ridden with Ralf. And I know Ralf is very much a go-fast kind of guy.

Sure enough, we hadn’t gone all that far and the folks ahead of me were moving at a clip I just was not all that comfortable with. I can ride fast when I choose to but frequently I just don’t choose to. So I just went my own pace and that was fine. Ralf had been very clear that he would not turn off the road we were on without waiting for everyone to catch up so no one would get lost.

One of the folks ahead of me, though, was Maynard. Maynard kept up with Ralf but when we stopped for a couple minutes in Conifer he spoke up, saying that he felt the pace to that point had been a bit excessive. Good for you Maynard, it’s good to speak up and let your opinion be known. Ralf replied that he didn’t feel the pace had been all that fast but he asked how the rest of us felt. I spoke up and said I agreed with Maynard but that I knew beforehand that Ralf was fast and I had just made up my mind to ride my own ride, and if I got behind, I was OK with that.

I will note, however, that there was one particular curve where I went into it too hot and did some emergency hard braking. And I wasn’t even trying to keep up.

No one else said they thought the pace had been all that excessive, although of course some of them had been behind me.

The consensus was as I had suggested, that everyone should just ride their own ride, and we went on. Ralf gave no indication he felt he ought to slow down, and he reiterated that he would not let anyone get separated at a turn. Whether it was for this reason or just because he often does this (he does, and he may have planned this from the start), Maynard peeled off from the ride a bit later when we got to Evergreen and headed off on his own.

But this is a real issue, and it’s one everyone needs to think out on their own. Some people just like to ride faster than others. If a group you ride with always goes faster than you like, then maybe you need to find another group. Alternatively, you could take the role of leader and then lead at the pace you feel comfortable with.

I’m personally not a go-fast guy, to the point that on the recent OFMC trip Bruce asked at one point why we so frequently would ride at five miles below the limit. We just like to take our time and enjoy the ride. Bruce said he had never ridden with a group that didn’t generally go as fast as they could. Or at least go the speed limit.

However, there are several people in the RMMRC who lead a lot of the rides who are go-fast guys. If you go on many rides with this group you are going to find yourself in this situation. And I have. Many times. And I just ride my own ride. If someone wants to go faster they can go around me and catch up with the group ahead.

No one should out-ride their own abilities. Safety is more important than conforming with the group. If you’re not comfortable, slow down. The life you save may be your own.

Biker Quote for Today

So today I went on a motorcycle ride and I forgot to post a picture on Instagram about it. Then I remembered I was too busy riding my motorcycle.

Kudos to Ralf for laying out a really nice route. On the Sunday before Columbus Day a group of RMMRC riders went up in the hills to take advantage of a perfect fall day. Ralf not only picked a good route, he included one road that perhaps none of the rest of us had ever been on. I always love that.

We met out by C-470 and Ken Caryl Avenue and headed out under the highway and then around on Valley Road to reach Deer Creek Canyon. We ran up Deer Creek to where it ends at South Turkey Creek Road and went left, following that road around to where it meets US 285 at Conifer. We quickly got off 285 at Barkley Road to reach CR73, which runs north from Conifer to Evergreen.

I was hoping Ralf was planning to jog right/left and get onto Shadow Mountain Drive and take that nice route and he did. Shadow Mountain becomes Brook Forest Road and rejoins CR73 just south of Evergreen but Ralf had other ideas in mind. About halfway along Brook Forest we turned right onto Blue Creek Road and this was a new one for me and probably most or all of the others. Cool. I love being introduced to new roads.

Blue Creek ended up leading us back to CR73 just a little south of the Marshdale area where we headed east on North Turkey Creek Road, back to and under US 285 and onto South Turkey Creek Road not far from where we had hit it previously. This time we went north, past Tiny Town, and again met up with 285. Ralf pulled over.

The thing we needed to know here, he told us, was that we needed to get on 285 just for a moment and then turn left up Parmalee Gulch. So wait for a break in traffic and then immediately get to the left lane and prepare to turn. That was a good thing to make sure everyone understood.

So we headed up Parmalee Gulch, up and over to Kittredge, and then caught Bear Creek Road up to Evergreen. We went through the main town area and turned to go past the lake and then on up Upper Bear Creek Road past all the swanky homes to Witter Gulch Road. This is a favorite as it climbs steeply and is full of tight turns, leading up to where it meets the Squaw Pass Road.

At the Squaw Pass Road we turned west, over the pass and down past Echo Lake and eventually down to Idaho Springs. Time for lunch. Past time for lunch. We ate at Smokin’ Yards BBQ, which was a good place. New for me.

At lunch we talked intentions. Ralf had figured to take I-70 the short distance down to the Central City Parkway and then down to Black Hawk and over on the Peak-to-Peak Highway to go down Golden Gate Canyon. But one couple said they were just going to jump on I-70 and blast home, and I said I figured to get on old US 40 and take it back down. Then the other two women in the group, who had found they both live in Aurora, agreed they would head home together, which left only Ralf and Bruce to go the rest of the way on Ralf’s route.

That’s fine. We all had a good ride and a good day. See you all next time.

Biker Quote for Today

Petrol Sexual: Suck, squish, bang, blow.

The tumbleweeds were out in full force Sunday when eight RMMRC riders headed out to Patty Ann’s in Kiowa for a lunch ride. The weather has been great but the forecasts are for cold very soon and high winds immediately. They weren’t kidding.

As we headed east on a variety of roads the wind was blasting out of the south and tumbleweeds were blowing across the road like a mass migration. I felt like I was riding rather skillfully as I managed to get to Kiowa without hitting a single one but when we left a big one nailed me right away. OK, some skill, a bit of luck, too.

The wind was killer. I was on the V-Strom, which is my smallest and lightest bike, and we were getting pushed all around. With all its body work my Concours is like a sail but at least it weighs a lot more and so it is more stable. At times this wind had me leaning so far to my right that it felt like the wind might just blow my wheels out from underneath me. But it didn’t.

What it really reminded me of was heading out from Patty Ann’s the first morning of the Great River Road trip we did this summer. Heading southeast out of Limon that day on US 287 we hit such powerful winds that I rode for about 50 miles with the only thing visible in my left mirror being my chest; that was how far I was leaned over.

It also reminded me of a technique I discovered one day riding out this same road, CO86. On that day the wind was out of the north, not that that matters. What mattered was that I was struggling to keep that bike going where I wanted it to go and at one point, for whatever reason, I left go of the grip with my left hand. Suddenly controlling the bike was a lot easier.

The nearest I can figure is that when I was holding on with two hands my hands were working in opposition to each other. It certainly wasn’t a conscious effort but it was a strain and a struggle; once I let go with one hand, control was easy. I wasn’t fighting against myself. I’ve tried this many times since that day and it works every time.

An interesting aside: having figured this out I thought it was worth sharing so I sent a letter to one of the motorcycle magazines so they could pass it along to their readers. I never heard anything and they never printed my letter so I have to suspect they thought I was talking crazy but I’m not. It really works. Try it for yourself and you’ll see.

We headed out after lunch but original plans to take a roundabout route home got dumped because the wind was just blowing so hard and it was obvious the front over the mountains was coming our way. Everyone decided they just wanted to head home. So we did. But it was good to get out for one more ride before the bad weather arrives.

Biker Quote for Today

I thought of that while riding my motorcycle.

We got up, ate, and then it was time to ride down that loose gravel to get out of the RV park to the highway. Dennis went first and I followed and neither of us did try standing up on the pegs as we had considered the day before but neither of us had any problems and we made it down to firm ground uneventfully. Whew!

I led and we headed for Creede. I hadn’t gone more than a mile or so when it became clear I did not dress nearly warm enough. It was cold! So in Creede we made our first stop. Then we headed on up Spring Creek Pass. People were already needing to offload some coffee so near the top of the pass when I saw a pull-out we used it. It turned out to be a spot with a beautiful view down a nearby valley. (See the photo to right.)

There were a lot of aspen turning gold and it was a beautiful sunny day so who could ask for better. We rode on over Slumgullion Pass and on into Lake City. I had asked if anyone needed gas in Lake City and no one figured they did so we rode on through. Exiting the town there was a sign saying how far it was to Gunnison and I had to wonder and then as I rode further and saw there was no one behind me I knew what had happened. I turned back and found the gas station they had gone back to. Not a problem. We have plenty of time and it’s just wonderful to be outside on this kind of day.

Then on to Gunnison where we stopped for lunch. We considered going over Cottonwood Pass but that would have taken longer and we were all starting to feel the way horses feel when they know they’re headed for the stable. So we took Monarch.

Unlike the day before on Wolf Creek Pass, everyone felt like running up this pass so we had a spirited ride to the top and over and down. But Bill, who was leading, wasn’t done. He kept up the fast clip all the way to Fairplay, at which point we were all hoping for him to stop because by then we needed another pit stop. Bill did, too, and we stopped.

This was where we said our good-byes. We all made a point to tell Bruce we were pleased he had come with us and that he was welcome to come again next time. Bruce seemed amenable to that proposition.

We headed out on US 285 and Dennis, as usual, peeled off at the exit past Conifer that runs down past Tiny Town, headed to his place over in Deer Creek Canyon. Bill and Bruce and I continued on 285 to where it hits C-470 and Bill went north, Bruce went south, and I stayed on 285 east to home. What a good year’s ride we just had!

Biker Quote for Today

To me, it doesn’t matter whether it’s raining or the sun is shining or whatever: as long as I’m riding a motorcycle, I know I’m the luckiest guy in the world.

Sure enough, by morning Bill’s tire with the newly installed inner tube was flat. What the heck?

Preparing to hook up the little pump Bruce noticed that he could tighten the core in the valve stem in that tube just a tiny bit. Was that enough that it had leaked? Bill wasn’t going to test that by just riding on. We were in Farmington and there is a Harley dealer there, so with enough air to easily go five miles that was where we headed.

Long story short, Bill ended up paying about $2,000 for a new tire and wheel. Ouch. But now we could ride on confident that there should be no further problems.

We headed northeast on NM516 to Aztec and then took US 550 north. We really didn’t want to take 550 all the way up to US 160 and then go east on 160 because that’s a busy highway and we had been on it many times. Was there an alternative?

We looked at the map and saw that just a little ways into Colorado there was a road, CR110, that went east to Ignacio. And best of all, we had never been on this road. Great. Now we just had to find it. It’s not very well marked. We did find it, though, and it was a really nice road winding through some hills and some rolling ranch land. Time for lunch in Ignacio.

From Ignacio we took CO151 as it loops south and then north again, finally joining US 160 a little west of Pagosa Springs. Leaving Pagosa behind us we headed up Wolf Creek Pass. Dennis was leading, followed by Bill, then me, then Bruce.

One thing you have to understand about Bill is that he very much likes to set his cruise control and just let it go. Sometimes this means he’ll pull up on you and very slowly slip by. Other times it means he drops further and further back. This time he was dropping back. Meanwhile, I kind of wanted to run on up this very nice pass. So after a bit I blasted on past him.

But Dennis really wasn’t running up the pass either. And I felt like running. So I blew past him and really cranked it up. Pretty soon I saw that Bruce had also passed both of them and was enjoying a hot ride up, too. Fun. Eventually they both picked up speed and closed the gap a bit.

We came on down to South Fork and made the left turn off US 160 onto CO149 that runs through Creede and up over Slumgullion and Spring Creek Passes, to Lake City. But we weren’t going that far today, we were just headed to a campground and cabins between South Fork and Creede, Blue Creek Lodge and RV Park.

We were looking forward to our night here because I had received a call during the week telling me they had moved us from a smaller cabin to a full bunkhouse where we would each have our own room with private bath and a common area for meals and anything else. No extra charge. Cool. What we did not count on was that the road through the RV park was gravel and our bunkhouse was as far up this loose gravel as it is possible to go. I was on my Concours, which hates gravel, and Bill and Dennis are none too comfortable on gravel any time. Bruce, with his long legs as outriggers, is fine with that stuff.

The route winding through the RV park was also not really clear so I took a wrong turn at one point and we had to double back. Making the sharp right turn this necessitated I came just a hair’s breadth from dropping the bike. It was close, and then, fighting to keep it up, I had gotten too close to a cabin and had to roll back. That was less than fun on this loose stuff as well.

Dennis and Bruce and I finally made it to the top. Bill decided he would park at a lower level and just carry his stuff up to the cabin. It was clear that neither Dennis or I would be riding back down that road until we were leaving. But the lodge’s restaurant is not in operation so we had to do something to get dinner. So Bruce and Bill went back down and headed toward Creede to find some food to bring back. Meanwhile Dennis and I shuttled our bikes around to make it as easy as possible to get out the next morning.

We also noticed that heading down Bruce had stood up on his pegs. Dennis wondered aloud about that and I explained to him that standing on the pegs lowers you center of gravity from the seat to the pegs. We both figured maybe we’d try that in the morning.

Meanwhile, it was darn chilly and we had all turned the heat on in our rooms but nothing seemed to be happening. So we cranked them all the way up. Still nothing.

They guys got back with food, we ate and then had a good time sitting around shooting the bull. Then we headed to bed but the day wasn’t over. Each one of us, during the night, woke up to find that our heaters really do work and our rooms were broiling. I also went to the common area and turned that heater down so it wouldn’t be an oven in the morning. Now sleep.

Biker Quote for Today

Food, oxygen, love, sex, and motorcycles. Am I forgetting something?

Morning in Alpine, Arizona, and we had to wait for the tow truck to haul Bill’s Harley to Eager, where a shop would put a tube in. We had been told it would be noon but the guy was able to make it by 11, so that was good.

Meanwhile, I took this opportunity to remove the body work from my Concours so as to put my highway peg back on. Taking the body work off is an involved process that I hate but what better time to do it than right now. And it all went smoothly so it was good.

The tow truck arrived and loaded Bill on and we took off for Eager. There, the shop was ready for us and got on it right away but it was still several hours before the job was done. We finally got off from Eager about 3 p.m., and this was our longest day’s ride of the trip. Time to burn some miles.

We headed north on US 191, up to AZ61, which became NM53 when we crossed the state line, and then north to Gallup on NM602. At one point heading up 191 Bruce blasted past us on his ST1300 and in a flash was lost from view up ahead. Cool. What’s up?

Dennis was leading and at the AZ61 intersection he pulled over for a pit stop. Good thing, as it turned out, because he had not understood that we wanted to turn here and it was only after a couple minutes that we noticed Bruce had made the turn and was waiting over there. So we were back together. Turns out Bruce, who hasn’t owned the ST all that long, figured he wanted to see what it could really do and this road was so open and unbusy that he figured let’s go. And go he did. Everybody needs to do that now and then, don’t they?

So we made the turn and made it to Gallup, where we picked up US 491 headed north to Farmington, our destination for the night. This is a long stretch and we just blasted. Dennis was leading again and his GPS told him our best route would be to take 491 as far as Indian Service Route 5 (BIA-5; this is reservation) and then go east to NM371, then north to Farmington.

Dennis almost missed the turn and we found ourselves past the turn with a median preventing us from doing a U-turn and heading south so we waited till there was no traffic and then turned and rode the wrong way down the highway back to the turn. Of course, by the time we got there there was a lot of traffic coming off BIA-5 so I’m sure we looked kind of funny facing that way on that side of the road waiting to be able to turn. But it worked.

By now it was getting toward dusk. We don’t generally ride after dark these days. This was going to be interesting. Dennis was riding hard because he wanted to get to Farmington before the light was too much gone. But hey, sunset in New Mexico is frequently pretty gorgeous and so the ride did have its charms.

It was almost fully dark by the time we pulled into Farmington and we checked in our hotel and immediately went to dinner so as to get to the restaurant before they closed. Finally we can relax. Except that Bill had noticed his bike handling a bit off coming into town, and now especially going to and from dinner. ???

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if you move your bike and the grass is brown under the wheels.

I tried to find a used mirror at Steele’s–with no luck–and when I looked on the Concours Owners Group forum to see if anyone was parting a bike out I found one note that said “don’t waste everyone’s time asking for a used mirror, just buy one from Murph’s.” So I did.

By the time the new mirror arrived I had pretty well figured out what I needed to do. First I needed to remove the windshield, which was easily accomplished by removing the screws along its base. Easy enough. Then I needed to remove one screw just inside the base of the windshield, which was now reachable because the windshield was off. Then reach in each of the two pockets in the fairing and take out one screw in each spot. Theoretically the dashboard of the fairing then comes off. In reality, that took some jockeying and trial and error. Plus, I was concerned about getting it back on again. But I managed.

Then it was a simple job to undo the two bolts holding the mirror assembly onto the fairing. And it turned out not to be difficult to put it back together. Could it really be this easy?

No. I now had the new mirror on but it would hardly move. That armature within the accordion boot connecting the mirror to the fairing was supposed to allow the mirror to be moved in and out, up and down, and rotated on its axis. It would not do these things. Now what?

With the old mirror off I could now take it apart and see just how it worked and what had broken. There’s a ball and socket and the socket had been snapped. But you’ll also notice the big nut there holding the two together. I reasoned that if that thing was loosened it would allow the joint to move freely. But how do I get to that nut?

Here’s where logic and common sense come into play. To get inside I had had to first disassemble the mirror housing. There is a deep cup and a thin border piece. I slipped a thin screw driver between the two and popped them apart, then popped the mirror itself out. Now I could remove the bolt that attaches the housing to the armature.

The rubber boot was like a bag with the open end at the mirror side and at the fairing side there were just two holes in the bottom of the bag for the attaching bolts. To get inside I had to come from the mirror side. Peeling back the boot gave me access to the big nut.

This was very good. At first I had thought I might need to take the fairing apart again but when I saw all this it meant I would not need to do that. Phew!

So I loosened that nut a bit and tried flexing the armature. Sure enough, it moved the way it is supposed to. Hooray! Then it was just a matter of reassembling the housing. But that didn’t want to work.

The thin border piece that was supposed to snap onto the deep cup would not hold. Close examination showed that what holds those two pieces together are small tabs on the cup side that a lip on the border side is supposed to slip over. When I had popped the border piece off it apparently had not just slipped over the tabs, it had broken many of them off. Dang.

At this point I was ready to just get it done, so I took some small strips of the Gorilla Tape I had used to temporarily fix the broken mirror and used them to hold the two housing pieces together in strategic spots. Kludgey once again but I can live with it. And now I’ve got two functioning mirrors again.

Biker Quote for Today

No therapy in the world can do what burning a tank of gas, chasing the setting sun can do for you.

From Socorro we did not have a long day’s ride ahead so we took our time leaving. This gave me time to go next door to the Ace Hardware and purchase a steel rod and some Gorilla Tape. With some luck and creativity I hoped to jerry-rig my busted left mirror so it would be at least semi-usable.

As it turned out, there was a small opening in the fairing of just the right size in just the right place to insert the rod. I taped it to the fairing and then lined the mirror up and taped it to the rod. It was ugly but at least functional. Plus, the Gorilla Tape is black so that blended better with the black fairing than some grey duct tape would have. Still, the only position I could get it in was too far out, so to see behind me I had to lean way to the left. If someone was passing me, though, I had a good view of them, so that’s a good thing.

We took off, headed west on US 60 for Alpine, Arizona. Along the way the plan was to stop and visit the Very Large Array (VLA), which is an installation of radio-telescopes just to the south of the highway about 50 miles west of Socorro.

Shortly before reaching the VLA there was a rest area and Dennis blazed ahead of me to make sure we stopped. I hadn’t planned to because we would stopping just ahead but what the heck, we’re in no hurry. Right where we parked there was a smashed watermelon on the ground as well as what must have been more than five pounds of totally black, mushy bananas. ??? This was dubbed the watermelon stop.

We spent about 45 minutes here because there was no hurry and the weather was nice and we had good shade. While here Bruce, who was now on his second day riding with the OFMC, asked why we cruised along so slow, generally about five miles per hour below the speed limit. I replied that in this case at least it was because we weren’t going far and there was no hurry so why go fast? He noted that he had never ridden with any group of bikers who didn’t just blast along as fast as reasonable. Welcome to the OFMC.

It was only about five miles from that rest area to the VLA but we had learned while stopped that it was not currently open to the public. Rats. I really wanted to see the place. It has a whole bunch of disks pointing to the skies and what I’ve heard is that you don’t realize the size until you’re up close to them. Then it’s an oh-my-god moment. So it was good that we stopped at the rest area.

Still, there was a view area along the highway where you could view the array from a distance, so we pulled over. It was interesting from afar but I’m sure it was nothing like walking around right there. And by the way, I see on the web that they just reopened to the public on October 1.

Taking off from here we were ready to roll when Bruce got off his bike and removed his helmet. OK, what’s up? Turns out he left his lights on and apparently was needing a new battery, so that was all it took for the battery to die and the bike not to start. Dang. But Bruce had a jump starter in his gear so he dug that out. Then, being on an ST1300, he had to strip off a bunch of the body work to get to the battery to connect the jumper. He did, got it ready, it fired up instantly, and then he had to put it all back together. But we could roll.

In another 20 miles or so we reached Datil, where US 60 goes northwest while NM12 goes southwest. We stopped for lunch and Bruce made sure to park somewhere where he could roll downhill to start if need be.

Bruce had noticed that up ahead on US 60 the road goes through Pie Town, which is a small place known for what its name implies. Did we want to go that way and stop for pie? Plus, the map showed that on past Pie Town to Quemado there was a road heading south that intersects NM12 to put us back on course. This drew a strong yes but then there was bad news: Pie Town shops were closed on this day of the week. Darn. Back to Plan A.

So we took off and as we headed southwest the sky to the north, where we would have been if we had gone to Pie Town, was turning a very nasty shade of purple. We seemed to have dodged a bullet here.

As we rode along and reached NM32, the road coming down from Quemado, I recognized it as where we had turned north after coming the other direction on our last ride down in these parts. From there we retraced our route from that trip until we reached US 180, which we had taken up from Silver City that day. Now, at that intersection, we would be turning north, getting onto a stretch of road we had never ridden before. And we had managed to avoid rain all this way but now we would be heading right into it. Time to suit up.

We had no doubt we were going to get wet but Bruce remarked that it would be typical if we rode through just a bit of rain and then came out into that bit of blue sky we could see between two mountains. We pooh-poohed that idea but he turned out to be absolutely correct. It was raining when we were ready to ride and it quickly turned to a downpour. And then in just a few miles the rain started tapering off and soon there was no rain at all. Typical.

However. In the midst of the downpour, riding on this canyon road, there had been a large rock in the middle of our lane. A big one, maybe eight inches by five by four. Dennis saw it and steered around it. I saw it and steered around it. Bill only saw it at the last moment and did not steer around it. Big crunch. Big jolt. But he stayed up and all seemed well.

We continued up US 180 to Alpine and found our quarters for the night. As we pulled into the parking lot Bill’s bike was acting really squirrelly and by the time he stopped his front tire was completely flat. Double dang.

It didn’t take long to discover that the rock had bent his rim so that the tire couldn’t hold air. How it had managed to last till he rode 20 miles and got to our destination is a total mystery as well as a miracle. But there was no way he was going to be riding out of here.

Our hosts here at Escudilla Mountain Cabins, Greg and Shelly, did what they could to be helpful. Greg inflated the tire and we thought in the morning we could ride on to the next town and get a tube put in the tire. It went flat so quickly though that clearly that would not work. There was a towing service but they could not be there to pick the bike up till noon the next day. Of course the next day was to be the longest ride of our whole trip.

Later Greg suggested that they had a trailer and maybe Shelly would be willing to tow Bill to Eager, the next town. She had left and wouldn’t be back for awhile but he suggested Bill ask her then. When she was back and Bill asked Shelly seemed a bit put out at Greg for suggesting this because the trailer was way up in the hills and getting it and bringing it to Alpine would not exactly be a short, easy trip. Nope, we were going to be waiting for the tow truck the next day.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker when you relate more to a dog hanging its head out of a passing car than you do to humans.