Passes & Canyons Blog

Leaving Durango on this year’s OFMC trip we had originally planned to ride down to Mesa Verde National Park where we were to spend the night at the Far View Lodge, the very cool old lodge inside the park. It was a treat I was looking forward to but Bill had announced he would not be going there with us and we ended up cutting that night out and moving everything else up.

That left us leaving Durango with the day’s destination of . . . Ignacio. Eighteen miles away. OK, let’s see what we can figure out here.

Because this whole trip was planned as a tourist trip, with us stopping at attractions and doing things that tourists do and that we generally haven’t, we had on our plan for the day leaving Ignacio to make a stop at Chimney Rock National Monument. I suggested that we head east on US 160, then turn back west at CO 151, which runs right by the monument before leading us directly on to Ignacio. Make it about a 100-mile day. The guys thought that sounded good.

The ride out US 160 was very nice as the entire state seems to have stayed green much later in the summer this year than usual. Really, really beautiful. We made the turn and were soon at Chimney Rock.

Chimney Rock National Monument is one of the newest national monuments in the country. It’s new enough that other times we have been past it it has not even been open yet to the public. Now it is but there’s still not a lot to it in terms of infrastructure.

First off we had to go in on a gravel road, and everyone knows how Bill feels about riding on gravel. He wasn’t thrilled but it was only a quarter mile. We got to the visitor center area and it is in such an early phase that the ranger did not have an actual visitor center, he was sitting there under an open tent talking to people and handing out literature. Besides restrooms the only structure was one building that was split with one half being a museum and the other half a gift shop.

It’s a good museum, though, and I found out a whole lot I had not known about the place. I’ve seen the rocks that give the place its name many times passing by and had assumed the monument was all about the rocks. And I thought making it a national monument for the rocks was a bit of a stretch.

In fact, it’s an archaeological site and up on the mesa above there are pueblos that are pretty well preserved. With the gravel road we were not going to ride up to the pueblos, plus it was a pretty hot day and we were in the middle of the heat. The ranger said they do have a shuttle going up for those who don’t want to drive but we passed. I’ll do that some other time when I’m out that way with Judy. Bill seemed positively disinterested and I didn’t know how Dennis felt about it.

So we saw what there was to see and then headed on to Ignacio. Even after our detour it was far too early to check into our rooms at the Sky Ute Casino Resort but they have a very good restaurant where we had lunch and then there was the gambling. This was one place where arriving early was not an inconvenience.

Biker Quote for Today

With the throttle’s roar, I ignite the adventure on the road.

On day four of this year’s OFMC trip we were only riding from Montrose to Durango so there was no hurry. Had a leisurely breakfast and then made a couple short stops along the way to Ouray.

Now, the last time I had gone over Red Mountain Pass was with the RMMRC back in September 2021 and there was construction underway on the pass. That meant that the road was closed from about 8 a.m. to noon, then again from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. We got an early start and it was just frigid. By the time we reached Silverton and stopped to get coffee my hands were so numb I had to warm them up before I could open my gas tank to put gas in.

This was much warmer but still quite cool so you can bet I had my electric vest on and in use. And glad to have it.

We stopped at Silverton and walked around a bit. We were in the local Harley gear store—not bikes—when about 40 bikes rumbled in en masse. I don’t know if they had someone running ahead who secured parking but they all managed to park along one block of one of the side streets. We later watched them pull out and it was a seemingly endless procession, just ones and twos and threes and more and more and more. No idea where they were coming from or where they were headed.

Silverton of course is one terminus for the narrow-gauge train that runs a couple of times each day between Durango and Silverton. There are restaurants and shops strategically located right where the train comes in to draw in the folks getting off the train. We decided to have a light lunch at one of these restaurants, each of us wanting only soup.

We walked in and sat down and they were clearly way overstaffed. Presumably in anticipation of the train’s arrival. Although they had a sign promoting it, they had no soup that day so the three of us split an open-faced sandwich three ways and it was without a doubt one of the two worst meals of this trip. Then the train came in, the streets filled with people, and we departed.

As we headed up Molas Pass we soon came upon a blockage. We couldn’t see what was going on up ahead but there were flashing red lights. Once we started moving again we saw that there were a bunch of bikers pulled off along the guard-rail and they were looking pretty glum. No real idea what had happened but it would appear one of their group had a mishap. Our sympathies, guys.

One of the consequences of doing a trip like this one, where we keep the day’s miles low, is that we get into town at our next stop pretty early, and maybe don’t have anything to do. That was the case this day and we ended up sitting in the lobby of our motel waiting for our rooms to be ready.

It was at this time Bill confirmed the vibe I had been picking up from him that he just has lost interest in doing these trips. He said he did not want to go to Mesa Verde–which was our next planned destination–but ultimately he concluded it made sense to just cut out that night and move the rest up one day. If possible. And it was. I canceled at Mesa Verde and got a full refund and Dennis & I were able to move our other reservations up one day. But I strongly suspect now that this is the final OFMC trip.

Our motel was a moderate distance from downtown but Durango has a good free trolley that runs all over so we took it downtown. Had a good dinner, got some great ice cream, and also spent some time at the surprisingly well-done railroad museum they have at this other terminus to the narrow-gauge train. Once again playing the tourist on this Colorado adventure tour.

Day five of the trip was the obligatory golf day so we stayed two nights in Durango. The golf course is up by the college on a ridge high above the main part of town, offering a terrific view. So day five was fun and leisurely, too.

Biker Quote for Today

May every “empty” parking space you see in the distance actually contain a motorcycle.

We headed out of Buena Vista at a reasonable hour headed up over Cottonwood Pass. It wasn’t as cold as the day before but once again, late July or not, I was darn glad to have my electric vest on. Since they finally paved the other side of this pass it has become a very popular route for a lot of people but the crowd wasn’t too thick.

Heading down, though, we had options and I thought I had gotten it all worked out. Once we got past Gunnison we had the issue of a bridge across the Blue Mesa Reservoir being out of service . . . or not. There were two possible detours. One was to get to Almont coming down off Cottonwood Pass and turning north to Crested Butte and taking the unpaved Kebler Pass. They use a lot of magnesium chloride on that road so it’s really hard-packed, like really rough pavement. I’ve been over it and it’s not bad.

The other is to head out of Gunnison and take the road at the east end of the reservoir south toward Lake City and then, before coming to Lake City, take the Lake City Cutoff, which goes down to US 50 on the far side of the bridge. But the cutoff is not paved either.

The third alternative was that I thought I had found information saying that the bridge was actually open just one lane at a time for light traffic, such as motorcycles and passenger cars. We headed for the bridge.

At the turn-off to head for Lake City the road straight ahead had a sign that said it was closed. Not a good sign. We went past it. You could still go in because there were campgrounds and fishing areas you could get to on this side of the bridge. But we kept seeing signs saying the road ahead was closed. Not a good sign at all. We kept going.

Sure enough, we came to where the road really was closed. There was a guy there telling people what their alternatives were and he told us we should hurry back and take the Lake City road and then the cutoff. He said the cutoff opened for westbound traffic at 12:30 p.m. and if we didn’t make it there in time we would have to wait two hours for the next opening. We didn’t have much time so we hustled.

Until we got behind a couple really slow, large vehicles. Dang! Well, we got there in time and didn’t even have to stop, they just waved us on through. And then it was 15 miles of rough gravel. I was on my V-Strom so for me it was no issue. Dennis didn’t like it on his BMW but he just figured it had to be. Bill, on his Harley, absolutely hated it. He said later if he’d known what it was going to be he would have turned around and gone home or something. Anything but that 15 miles of gravel. He was not a happy camper.

I had actually been surprised they had gone for it. When I told them what the guy at the blockade had told me I was not expecting Dennis to just say simply, “Let’s do it.” But he did. He and Bill hate gravel. And Bill just followed us. Bill prefers to just follow. This time he wasn’t so glad he had done so.

The way I looked at it, this was supposed to be a Colorado adventure tour, where we stop for all the tourist attractions we typically just ride right past. Our first day was doing a hot springs. Our second day was zip-lining. Now our third day was getting off the pavement into the backcountry. Kinda.

One way or another we made it to Montrose, our stop for the night.

Biker Quote for today

The joy of riding a motorcycle is out of this world. The thrill of riding in the hills and mountains is an opiate addiction. — Avijeet Das

How quickly we went from “Is it so cold that if I ride I’ll freeze my butt off” to “I might like to go for a ride but I really don’t want to roast.” But Sunday was very nicely cool so what better thing could I do?

I figured I’d ride the Honda but I was very interested to see what happened once I started it up. Would it smoke like crazy as it used to? That issue had just miraculously gone away by itself but that means it could come back in just the same manner. And yes, the exhaust did smoke some at first. Not the huge clouds it used to produce but there was definitely some smoke.

And of course that makes me think about how much oil I have. When you’re getting a lot of blue smoke you are, by definition, burning oil and if you burn enough you end up with none. I had almost done this before I took it in to get the smoking addressed. I headed out one day, knowing I needed gas, and by the time I got to the gas station I just felt like it wasn’t running right. So I gassed up and just went back home, where, as a caution, I added some oil.

The next time I rode it was to take it to the shop, and it ran OK with the little bit of oil I had added, but when the shop started giving it the once over they found it had almost no oil at all. I’ve said it before: I’m a bad bike owner. I really don’t give my bikes the care they need. Shame on me.

So now I’m on this Sunday ride and my oil level is on my mind. I will check the oil level before I ride it again.

I hadn’t gone far and I saw something I had never seen before: one of those Tesla pick-up trucks. I’ve seen pictures but I had never seen one in real life and there it was. OK, a first.

I cruised south, to just north of E-470, and looped around the south end of Arapahoe County Airport and stopped to watch the airplanes lined up for take-off. What a mixed bag. All the way from little Piper Cubs up to enormous corporate jets.

On south and a turn onto the road that eventually becomes Main Street in Parker. And to the south of me the southern edge of the city is going up in the form of condos and homes. Jeez, I remember when the south edge of the city was 10 miles north of here.

East on Main Street, then a turn north on Jordan Road. At the intersection of Jordan Road and Broncos Parkway, on the northeast corner–and I mean right on the corner–sits a new condo complex with balconies overlooking this busy, noisy intersection. Just what I would want for a relaxing place to live. Do people really live in places like that voluntarily? If you flicked a cigarette butt from your balcony it might go right in somebody’s car window.

About this time it dawned on me that my test of using safety pins to snug up my fluorescent orange safety vest was apparently working. All this time it had not blown up around my head and it was staying where I wanted it. It occurred to me that I could use a couple more safety pins and just attach it long-term to my mesh summer jacket. Pin it down around the bottom to hold it down securely. I guess I’ll do that. I’d still recommend if you’re in the market that you pay a bit more and get a real motorcycle safety vest from a motorcycle supplier.

Then on home again. It sure is nice to have some comfortable days in July. The OFMC trip is coming up in a little over two weeks and it sure would be nice not to get cooked on that ride the way we did last summer.

Biker Quote for Today

Speed is my language, and the wind translates it into joy.

I was headed home from doing Guanella Pass and after I turned down Kerr Gulch Road I stopped to take off the sweatshirt I had put on before going up that pass. No big deal, right?

I pulled off at a driveway, put the kickstand down, and got off. And the bike just rolled forward, off the kickstand, and fell. What the hey? This was very much like a time years ago when I was crossing Idaho with Kevin and we stopped so I could clean my visor. I parked and got off and Kevin pulled in behind me and got off . . . and his bike rolled forward, bumped into mine, and they both went down.

OK, fine. I know how to pick a bike up. Crouch, backed into the seat, grab the handlebar with one hand and something on the body with the other and stand up, using your legs, not your back. But a funny thing happened.

I really don’t know what it was, but each time I tried to lift the bike, instead of coming up, it pivoted in a clockwise direction. Was it turning on the kickstand? On the case guard? On the highway peg? On the regular peg?

I don’t know, but after three attempts to lift it the bike had rotated about 90 degrees. What the hey?

Oh, and another thing. Apparently the seal on the gas tank is not particularly snug because gas was dribbling out of the tank at a pretty fast pace. If this thing lay there very long I’d lose half my gas at least.

I really didn’t know what I was going to do but just then I saw two guys coming from the house next door to the one whose driveway I was in. they climbed through and over a fence and hurried to me, calling out asking if I was OK. Yeah, I’m fine, I said, I didn’t go down. I parked the bike and it went down by itself.

So they helped me get it back up, with at least half a cup of gas spilling out of the brush guard on the handlebar which had been catching it as it ran out of the tank. OK, let’s get the heck out of here.

The bike fired right up and I put it in gear and was off, no problem. After thanking these guys profusely. And after assuring them for about the fifth time that I was not injured. Nice guys. Thank you so much!

Biker Quote for Today

Me and my bike, we’re like two best friends on a journey together.

Just to wrap this up, I’m not going on this RMMRC ride I’ve been talking about. Healing is just taking too long.

But as part of my exploration as to what I am currently capable of, on Tuesday I decided it was time to do a real ride and I went out US 285 and then over Guanella Pass. A beautiful day to ride and if I couldn’t handle this 150-mile jaunt I sure couldn’t handle the longer days planned for the trip.

And it was good. I got all the way out of town before I felt even slight discomfort. Big, big improvement.

So there I am tooling up 285 and a couple on a Concours 14 rolled up behind me. Very shortly afterward another guy joined us. I was chuckling to myself about how anyone who saw us was almost certainly thinking we were a group of riders on a trip together. You don’t think that about three cars in a row but you do when it’s a bunch of motorcycles.

Then in a few more miles we were joined by two more guys on bikes. Now we’re a group of five bikes and six people, for all the world like we’re traveling together. We passed a bunch of bikes going the other way, everybody’s waving, and I’m just shaking my head at how I just know that even those bikers figured we were together.

The solo guy who had been the third member of the group turned off at Pine Junction so now there were only four bikes, and we got to Grant and I turned up the Guanella Pass road and the couple on the Concours went straight. They have a sign there at Grant that I liked. It read, “This is a mountain pass, not a raceway. Slow down and enjoy the scenery.” Words of wisdom.

The other two guys had dropped out of sight behind we got to Grant but then I stopped partway up the pass to put on a sweatshirt–it was getting chilly!–and they went by. Hey fellas, fun riding with you for awhile.

Just FYI there were a lot of tar snakes on the Grant side of this pass. I figured since it was cool they would be no issue but after my rear end slid out a couple times I concluded they were not to be ignored. On the Georgetown side, which is a different county, there were no tar snakes but there was a lot of gravel in the very high switchbacks and some in some of the lower ones. So take care riding this pass at this point.

And yeah, it was darn chilly up on top of the pass but dang if my butt didn’t still just feel fine. I like this. I’ll need to stop and take the sweatshirt off when I get lower but for now it’s very welcome.

So there was no obvious spot to stop once I got down lower so I kept riding but by the time I was getting off I-70 at the El Rancho exit I was cooking. The plan was to jump on the Evergreen Parkway just a couple miles and then turn off onto Kerr Gulch Road and take that very non-busy route down to Kittredge.

Up at the top Kerr Gulch is very steep but I finally came upon a driveway and that looked like a good spot to stop. I stopped, put the kick-stand down, and got off . . . and the bike just rolled forward and fell over. Dang! I didn’t need this. What happened next is a bit of a story and I’ll tell that next time. Suffice it to say I got going again.

So, down to Kittredge, to Morrison, to US 285, and home. A good long ride and by the time I got home I knew I’d be texting Alberto to say no way am I going on this trip. By this point I was hurting and this time a hot soak in the tub was not enough to make it all go away.

Not that it mattered as it turned out. I checked my email later and he had sent me a note the day before saying he had had to cancel out. And a couple other guys dropped out, too, and it was now just down to Alan, the organizer, and Bruce. I texted Bruce to ask if they were going to go nevertheless and he said yes. Good for them. Sorry I won’t be with you.

Biker Quote for Today

Does it get any better than motorcycling with your best friends?