Passes & Canyons Blog

Bill (on his bike) and John on one of our earlier trips when it was still just us three.

The OFMC took its first trip in 1989, and has done a trip every year since. The original three were me, John, and Bill. Other members have come and gone over the years but we three were regulars until just a few years ago when John could no longer ride due to health issues. Now Bill is talking about bowing out.

Dennis and I had a pretty good idea this was coming while we were out on our recent trip. We had decided to do Lolo Pass and that meant we needed to do some longer days and also an extra day. Several of these longer days were also blazing hot. Bill was not enjoying a lot of this and he was making comments such as “Remind me again why we do this.”

So it was no surprise the next to last night out when he said flatly that he doesn’t want to do it anymore. OK, let’s get into particulars. What exactly don’t you want to do anymore.

Well, he doesn’t want to do these long days. He also doesn’t want to be out for as long. And he really doesn’t like doing long days in 100+ degree weather.

Fair enough. What would you say to shorter days and fewer days? As for the heat, I’ve pushed for years to move the week of the trip later than the last full week of July. But you insist on doing it that week.

Dennis had the idea that we could do an all-Colorado trip where rather than ride past all the tourist attractions we actually stop and visit them. Take it easy.

Well, OK, something like that Bill said he could probably get into and enjoy. Fine, said I, the official trip organizer. Let me give this some thought.

The next day I had some ideas. A lot of ideas, actually, but the best–I thought–was to do this all-Colorado ride where we spend our last night some place like Estes Park–close to home–and all the wives carpool up and we stay at some fancy bed ‘n’ breakfast and have dinner at some really nice restaurant. Dennis liked the idea. Bill’s response was pure Bill.

“My wife will still be in Brazil.”

Bill’s wife is from Brazil and every summer she goes there to help her sisters care for their aged mother. She is a teacher so she comes back just before school starts, which is not the last full week of July.

But Bill, we don’t have to do the ride that same week in July every year, and if you don’t want the heat all the more reason to move it to something like the last week of August or first week of September. Or the second week of September, after the kids are back in school and the tourist crowds thin out.

No, no, that won’t do.

Now, Dennis and I are of a different mind. Earlier in the trip we had discussed what we saw coming and Dennis had said that if he didn’t have his wife at home he’d be saying let’s take a month. We’re retired, for Pete’s sake. I totally agreed.

So the thought arises, if Bill dropped out would Dennis and I continue and maybe finally do some of the longer rides I’ve been wanting to do for a long, long time? Apparently not. Dennis didn’t elaborate on his thinking but he did say at one point that if it got down to only two he would not be inclined to go on. So that would mean the end of the OFMC. Wow.

I don’t think that’s going to happen next year. I do think Bill will be interested in a shorter trip. But things continue until they don’t. And then they end.

Biker Quote for Today

100 reasons not to date a biker: 32. You’ll have a burn mark or two from the exhaust.

Ten minutes earlier this road was jam-packed with stop and go traffic. Now you can see the first car that filtered past the burning truck down the hill.

We got an early start out of Spanish Fork on the next to last day of this year’s OFMC trip and I figured we’d be climbing into the hills east of the extended Salt Lake City metropolitan area but in fact we plunged down a canyon. We were on US 89, which led in a short while to US 6.

Another surprise was that at the mouth of this canyon there were about 10 wind turbines. You normally think about those things being out in the open where they catch a lot of free-flowing wind. I figure it must be that the wind blows in across the salt flats and then hits these hills and gets channeled into this canyon.

So we went down and down and finally started climbing. Very pretty along this part. Then we started down again, a long way, and finally came out on the desert floor at Price. Now it’s going to get hot and boring. It did. We got lunch and gas at Green River and then just blasted the rest of the way to Grand Junction, our stop for the night. Not an eventful day.

Leaving Junction early in the morning we were figuring on getting down the hill on I-70 before the inevitable crush of traffic that happens every Sunday afternoon. Wrong. We started getting into heavy traffic at about Vail. But before I get into that, something else happened just west of Vail.

As I said, traffic was getting thick and we got behind someone going too slow in the right lane, so Bill and Dennis moved over to the left and when I had the chance I did, too. I looked back and was about 50 feet ahead of the guy coming up in that lane so, as I always do, I threw my left arm straight out to clearly signal my intent and simultaneously moved into the left lane. Totally normal move.

About five seconds later I heard the familiar sound of a car coming around me on the left . . . but I was in the left lane. I turned to look and there was the guy I had pulled in front of, now about even with my rear fender, going past me half way on the shoulder. I moved right to give him more room and threw up my hand in a “what the heck” sort of motion. He threw up his left hand in a sort of “oops, sorry” kind of motion. And we rolled on.

The way I figure it, he must have been looking at his phone and looked up only just in time to realize he was about to murder a motorcyclist.

Back to the story. I told the rest of this story here but there was a lot that I left out in that account. For one thing, I was not alone sitting there by the highway broken down. I could see, in the space of about a quarter mile, five other vehicles all pulled over with problems. I walked back and spoke with the two women in the car behind me, and they had also overheated. But for them it was normal. They had a bottle of coolant and once they could safely remove the radiator cap they poured some in and took off. The couple in front of me had overheated and had called for a tow. I didn’t walk up to the three vehicles ahead of them.

All this time the interstate was a parking lot. Three lanes full of traffic stopping and starting. Then about 500 feet down the hill there was a bang and a lot of smoke or steam or something and within a few minutes there was not a single vehicle on the road in front of me. I learned later from the tow truck driver who picked me up that there was a truck on fire back there.

Obviously, when this truck erupted in flames everyone behind him stopped. Then, after maybe five minutes cars started filtering past and one by one they would go speeding past me. And gradually there were more and more as they all got bolder.

What impressed me was how quickly the emergency folks handled the situation. It took a while for them to get to the scene but once they did they had the truck moved and whole road open again within 15 minutes. And then it was the same old parking lot again.

I did eventually get home that day, at 10 p.m., and that was finally the end of this year’s OFMC trip for me–though not yet the end of my hassles getting the bike home. But it could have been a lot worse. What if I had overheated out in the middle of the salt flats, in blazing heat with no shade? What if it had happened at any of the other times we were stuck in 100-degree-plus weather with no shade? At least when I broke down up on the mountain my actual concern was the oncoming rain storm. And I had rain gear.

Meanwhile, the Kawi is now in the shop for service and to find out if the overheating was due to a bad thermostat or heat sensor. Stay tuned.

Biker Quote for Today

If I were to die from riding a dirt bike my crash better look awesome.