Passes & Canyons Blog

Have you ever parked your motorcycle and come back to it later to find it laying on the ground? If you ride a Harley, probably not. Those broad, sweeping kickstands hold things really solidly. Not so much with a lot of other bikes. But sometimes even Harleys can fall.

On the second ever OFMC trip we were headed back into Colorado from New Mexico when we got caught in a cloudburst. We just rode through it and we dried off quickly enough but by the time we reached Alamosa that moisture and subsequent evaporation combined to bring us hypothermia. We headed for the nearest coffee shop and sat there for two hours drinking pot after pot of coffee, trying to stop shaking.

As an aside, coffee is not the best thing to drink in this situation. You’ll get a lot better results if you drink something like hot chocolate. Just FYI.

When we finally got warmed up we figured it was time to find a motel, so we walked on out to the bikes. Well, guess what. This coffee shop’s parking lot was newly repaved and the day was a really hot one. John’s kickstand, which was pretty vertical with a small foot, had sunk right into that asphalt and his bike had toppled over onto Bill’s, with both of them going down.

OK, lesson learned. From then on when it was hot and we were on asphalt we knew to find a flattened aluminum can or a broad rock or something to put under the stand. Later we all acquired pucks to carry with us. We do learn.

A couple years later, on a trip where John’s son Johnathon was with us, we were up in Idaho, heading north from Arco. At some point we spotted a nice, shady spot to pull over and take a break. We weren’t on pavement or rock but no big deal. Until, as we lounged there taking it easy, there came a crash. Johnathon’s bike–the one that had been John’s and knocked Bill’s bike over previously, had sunk into the soft dirt and gone down. At least no other bikes were involved and Johnathon, too, now learned the lesson.

A couple years after that, with Dennis now part of the group, we were up in Wyoming in the Bighorn Mountains. We stayed at a lodge where the people were so creepy it gave us thoughts of the Stephen King novel and movie, “The Shining,” but that’s a whole other story.

It rained hard that night. No problem, the parking lot was gravel. Well, maybe gravel and sand. And Dennis came out in the morning to find his Gold Wing laying on its side, with the kickstand sunk deeply into the more sand than gravel spot where he left it. Dang.

Now, those are the kinds of falls that even a Harley would be vulnerable to, because when the ground is soft even something broad and flat will sink. But it’s especially likely with a very vertical stand with a small foot. Such as on my Honda CB750. Or my old Kawasaki Concours. Or my Suzuki V-Strom. Are you catching my drift?

It was not long at all after I first bought the CB750 that I rode over to meet John and his wife Cheryl at a park where they were watching Johnathon playing soccer. When I parked the bike the ground was sloped such that it was standing up pretty straight but I figured it would be fine. Wrong. We came back to the bike and there it was on the ground. Apparently just the wind was enough to tip it too far.

Then there was the day I was out on the Connie and parked along a street with a pretty good crown to it. Which is to say, with the kickstand on the left and a slope to the right, that bike was quite upright. And yeah, I came back to it and it was down.

And then later I got the V-Strom and on one of my first rides with it I was with a group down along the Platte River up in the hills and we pulled off by the river. I jockeyed that thing a good bit to be sure I had it somewhere where it would be OK but I misjudged. I got off, walked away, and had only gotten about 10 feet when there was this big crash behind me. Dang. Dang. Dang.

There have been others. And there’s always something that breaks. I guess it’s all just part of the expense of riding motorcycles. It sure has been for me.

Biker Quote for Today

100 reasons not to date a biker: 30. Yes, the bike gets a Christmas gift.

Anyone who rides motorcycles knows how easy it is to strike up conversations with other bikers just about anywhere you encounter them. That’s especially true out on the road. You’re in a gas station or at a motel and there’s someone else with a bike and you talk. Just that simple.

No surprise then that on this latest OFMC trip we encountered our share of interesting folks.

We were in Arco, Idaho, and there were two bikers in the room next to Bill and Dennis. This was a father-son duo who were headed back to Salt Lake City after a few days out. The dad was on an Indian much like the one Dennis used to have and his son was riding the Harley he handed down to him. Nice kind of dad to have. Actually, Bill had done the same with his son Jason some years earlier.

After dropping the son off, the dad still had some riding to do. He was going to keep on going and would meet up with a friend a day or two later somewhere else. The details are hazy now but this guy was definitely enjoying himself. They had come down the day before through Challis, which was the way we were headed the next day and it was good to be able to ask a few questions.

For one, Google maps wanted to route us east a bit to go up between a different row of hills. Who knows, maybe that’s a nice route. No, said the dad, that’s nowhere near as nice as through Challis, but do be aware that we might encounter smoke from several forest fires burning up the way we were going. Also, if we are planning to head south from Cascade, Idaho, later, be aware that that road has closures due to blasting as they widen that highway. We never had any smoke but days later we did have a stop at the blasting site. It’s good to have a heads-up about these things.

Also at that motel in Arco there were three young guys on Harleys. They were doing some hard riding and told us they were hoping to make it all the way to the Oregon coast the next day. All the way to the coast? Holy crap. Plus, while two of them said their bikes were very comfortable for these long rides, the third said his was not. He was definitely regretting his choice of bikes. Not fun.

In Kemmerer, Wyoming, we came back to our motel after dinner to see a dirty, well-ridden bike we could not recognize loaded down with gear, parked right in front of the motel main door. Not long afterward, this guy came walking over from the same restaurant we had been at and yes, it was his bike. And the bike was a Harley Pan America. None of us had ever seen one before.

As for well-ridden, he was on his way home to Amarillo, Texas, after having ridden to the Arctic Ocean in Canada and then doing a loop around Alaska. And, by the way, this was not the bike he started out on.

Turns out he left home on a different Pan America but he said that one had always been a lemon, giving him lots of problems. So he rode up to the Arctic Ocean, into Alaska, and barely limped into Fairbanks, to a Harley dealer. There the guys checked out his bike and it definitely had problems but there on the showroom floor they had another just like it, brand new. Would he like to trade? Yes, he would.

So this beat-up, dirty bike we were looking at had 4,000 miles on it and was only 10 days off the showroom floor. But unlike the other one, it was not a lemon and he had had no problems at all with it. And he was figuring going all the way from Kemmerer to Lamar, Colorado, the next day, and on to Amarillo the next. He denied being hard-core, and when the discussion turned to gear he said he always wears all the gear because he falls down so much. Different people have different perspectives. And you meet all kinds of different people on the road.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker when picking bugs out of your beard becomes part of your daily grooming ritual.

The OFMC, at this point consisting of Bill, Dennis, and me, took off on our yearly trip two Fridays ago, planning a longer trip than usual and thus an extra day to do the extra miles.

We headed out from Golden up Clear Creek Canyon, got on I-70 near Idaho Springs, and continued west on the slab. I was on my Kawasaki Concours, Bill on his Harley, and Dennis on his BMW. An uneventful ride to Vail, where we stopped for lunch at McDonald’s. That raised a question: Why does a place like that send a guy to clean the bathrooms during the lunch rush? Wouldn’t his efforts be more useful on the line at that point, and you know of all those customers there have to be quite a few wishing to use the restroom. Do these people ever think about these things?

Glenwood Canyon seemed especially beautiful in this very green summer. At Rifle we got gas, then turned north to Meeker. We got behind a truck and at a clear spot with no oncoming traffic I figured Bill would pass but there was a double yellow line and he didn’t. Then there was a dense stream of oncoming traffic and I was sure we were coming to construction. We did, but got there just as the tail end of the line started moving, so we didn’t have to stop. It was quite a few miles of gravel and dirt, and slow going.

We got to Meeker and typically for Bill, he rolled right past the motel. Dennis and I did not. My mantra on these trips is “never let Bill lead” but on a straight shot like this he could hardly go wrong . . . until he did.

Bill has friends who now live in Meeker and they said there were “doin’s” in the town park, come on down for free food and music. So we did. Bill and Dagney seemed quite nice and agreed to ride with us the next day to breakfast in Rangeley. They showed up the next morning on their Harleys and we had a really nice early morning cruise.

The place we went for breakfast turned out to have one cook and one waitress/cashier/drink preparer and the place was packed. It was 45 minutes before she was able to bring us water and ask for our orders. Everyone knows at this point how hard it is to get people to hire. We finally rolled out of there about 11 a.m.

We picked up US 40 at Dinosaur and went west to Vernal, Utah. Hot as blazes. It got a bit cooler as we gained elevation heading north toward the Flaming Gorge. That’s always a nice ride. Got a late lunch at Mountainview, Wyoming, passed under I-80, and rode another 45 minutes to Kemmerer, our stop for the night.

We learned from our waitress at dinner that there was a bluegrass festival going on in town that whole weekend, including right at that moment, but we were at a place just south of town and none of us was inclined to ride into town. Too bad, it would have been fun. Instead we spent a long time talking with a guy from Texas who had ridden his Harley-Davidson Pan America up to the Arctic Circle in Canada, then did a circuit through Alaska, and was now headed back home. Some people are more hard-core than us.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker when you can identify bugs by taste.

The coolest thing I saw in Hawaii (yeah, we were just there), and I was really sorry I didn’t have a chance to get a picture, was two young guys on scooters, headed for the beach. They had their boogie boards with them, laid length-wise on their seats, and they were sitting on the noses of the boards with the tails sticking out behind. What a great idea.

OK, so backing up, we just spent 10 days in Hawaii, on the Big Island and Oahu. Of course I paid attention to motorcycles. And the islands have lots of narrow, winding roads that motorcyclists tend to flock to, but you don’t see motorcycles there. Any you do see are probably tourists; the locals seem to stick to the cities. I mean, when there are 150 miles of highway on the whole island, how many times can you ride those roads? And it’s not like taking your bike to another island is much of an option. I wouldn’t want to live in Hawaii.

So anyway, in the Kona area, the main tourist area on the Big Island, on the western, leeward side, there are a lot of scooters. That makes total sense because parking is in short supply and gas is expensive.

Other than scooters what you tend to see is big Harleys. Those guys almost universally ride without helmets and frequently without jackets, despite the fact that rain falls almost every day. A lot more of the scooter riders wear helmets but certainly not all of them. A very sparse middle range consists of smaller sport bikes. Those guys almost universally wear helmets and jackets. And boots and gloves.

On the rest of the island, even over in Hilo–a larger city–it was pretty much all Harleys. One night at dinner there was a couple at another table that caught my eye. She had a puffy jacket but had taken it off. He–in a place where everyone else was in T-shirts and many in shorts–was wearing a leather motorcycle vest over a hooded sweatshirt, and a wool hat on his head. I never got a chance to see if he had anything on under the sweatshirt. The only thing he took off, when their food arrived, was his wool stocking cap. Dude, are you not roasting?

I didn’t know for sure if they were on a bike till they left. Then from outside there was this explosion of aftermarket pipes as he fired it up. Yep, definitely on a bike.

In Hawaii it rains a lot, though not very hard most of the time. One time we were driving through heavy rain but came out of it. It was just then that we passed a guy on a Harley going the other way. No helmet, just a T-shirt. Oh man, you are in for it.

He’d probably just call me a wimp.

OK, and I’ll leave you with a thinker: Why do they have interstate highways in Hawaii?

Biker Quote for Today

“Universal” accessories are so named because that is where you must search to find the bike they will fit.

We were up in Eagle at Willie and Jungle’s earlier this week and to our pleasure and surprise, Mario was there, too. You’ll understand what a surprise this was as I tell you Mario lives in the Yukon. He’s a long way from home.

We met Mario four years ago on a ride Judy and I did with Willie and Jungle and some others up to British Columbia, to Banff and Jasper, along the Ice Fields Parkway. Mario flew in from the Yukon to Calgary, rented a car, met us in Radium Hot Springs, then cruised with us for about five days. Super nice guy.

So among the many things we talked about, Mario told us of a road north of where he lives that had been built across the tundra. I don’t recall if he said anything about the purpose of the road or where it went to and from, but the road itself was the item of interest. First off, it’s hard to build a road across the tundra. As the soil freezes and thaws the road gets lifted, sinks, and you end up with mile after mile of some terrific whoops. Whoops are great fun for a short distance but not something you want to drive on for a couple hundred miles.

To build this road they laid down some kind of fabric as wide as the road was to be and then covered it with sand. We’re talking some honking big rolls of fabric. Let’s see: 18 feet by 150 miles . . .

You can see how this type of road could better handle the freeze and thaw and the shifting. But there was some kink that nobody had expected. In the first couple months it was open, Mario said, the EMTs had to go out something like 50 times because motorcycles had had bad crashes. And primarily these were all heavy cruisers, Harleys mainly. What the heck was going on?

Mario went out to ride the road himself on his Kawasaki KLR 650. Everything was fine at first but then it got to where he felt like he was floating. He came close to crashing but managed to ride it out. What the heck?

Riding on, more cautiously now, the same thing kept happening. He had a hunch, and he pulled over to see if he was right. This is not a busy road so he had to wait awhile but eventually another vehicle came along and he saw just what he expected to see. It was like this.

The fabric material was waterproof, and beneath it, with the sun beating down on the sand, heat permeated and melted the permafrost. This released water, which had nowhere to go so it sat there. When a vehicle would come along some of the water would get pushed along under the fabric, gradually building up to something of a wave, which would start lifting the front end of a motorcycle up–the floating feeling–until such time as the front wheel would go on over the crest of the wave and suddenly the biker was running steeply downhill ahead of the wave. Then you hit level ground at a steep downhill angle and things do not go well.

Once he had this figured out Mario pushed on, cautiously, and eventually found what seemed to be the best way to ride it. He would stand up on the pegs and lean back, like you would on sand going down a hill. Hard to do on a big Harley, but OK on a KLR. So he rode to the end of the road and then turned around and rode back. Fun in the Yukon, huh?

Biker Quote for Today

More people die in their sleep than on motorcycles, so sleep less, ride more.

You never want to be in that position but sometimes it happens. When it does, will you know what to do?

I’m talking about a crash, and really, it doesn’t matter if it’s a motorcycle, a car, or what have you. Whatever it is, you’re the first one there. What do you do?

In order to have an answer to that question I recently took an Accident Scene Management class. This particular class was put on by a group called Road Guardians, and the sign-up cost was kept low thanks to a supplement from Rider Justice. It cost me $40 and was well worth it. Just FYI, the next session will be on March 26.

It was a full house at the session I attended and a good mix of people. There were a couple who had been the first to arrive at crash scenes, a couple of EMTs, a nurse, a bunch of us who just wanted to learn, and one guy who said he had been in four pretty bad crashes and figured he wanted to pay forward to others for what other people had done for him. This brought some really good first hand perspectives into the very lively discussions we had all day.

Before we got started, though, the main topic of interest was the closing that day of Rocky Mountain Harley-Davidson. Several of the people in the class were company employees and nearly everyone had some relationship with the dealership. One person in particular seemed to feel especially betrayed by the corporation’s harsh treatment of this family-owned dealership and I had to wonder how he was feeling about the Harley-Davidson tattoos he had all over him.

Through the course of the day the one thing that really struck me about this group was how totally sober they were about this training. I don’t mean sober in the alcoholic sense, but in the serious, very purposeful sense. Another word would be earnest. We had a lot of fun and there was plenty of joking around but this was a group of people who were there for a reason.

It is my intention in my next several posts to talk about the things I learned that day. Looking at the brochure we were given I see where it says “All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission . . . ” and I hope the simple citing of some of the things it talks about doesn’t cross some line. If it does let me know and I’ll make whatever adjustments are needed.

Biker Quote for Today

I just got a wooden motorcycle. It has a wooden frame, wooden handle bars, wooden wheels, and a wooden seat. Guess what? It wooden start.

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.

Our experience on the recent OFMC trip where Dennis inadvertently put diesel in his Indian has led me to think about some things I hadn’t considered before. Primarily, the importance of being close to someone who can work on your motorcycle when need be.

It’s no secret that there are one heck of a lot more Hondas or Harleys on the road than there are Indians. First off, the modern-day Indians are a much newer brand than Harley, plus they cost a lot. So–so far at least–Indian is sort of a niche brand.

Thus, the economics of the situation dictate that there are a lot fewer Indian dealerships around and also not all that many independent shops with experience working on Indians. And when you paid something in the mid-20s or more for your Chieftain I’m guessing you aren’t comfortable letting just any wrench jockey tear into it.

But what do you do when you break down? In Dennis’s case, he rented a U-Haul truck and we loaded the bike in and drove more than 200 miles out of our way to get to the nearest dealer. That will disrupt your trip in a hurry.

If it had been Bill, on the other hand, who rides a Harley, we would only have needed to get the bike another 40 miles or so in the direction we were heading to find a Harley shop. Same thing for me on my Suzuki V-Strom. And there are plenty of all-makes shops that would have been fully competent to work on either of our bikes. Perhaps they would also have been fully competent to work on Dennis’s bike but as I say, he was not particularly willing to take that chance.

So obviously, if you’re like Dennis and you ride a bike where repair options are sparse you are going to make an extra careful point to be sure the bike is in top condition before you take off on a trip like this. But Dennis didn’t break down; he made a mistake at the pumps and grabbed the wrong pump.

I’m sure this is not an irrelevant issue for some people when they’re deciding which bike to buy. And it has to be a chicken and egg thing: how do you get the sales without the dealer networks, but how do you support the dealer networks before you have the sales? I guess in this case it helps to be a big corporation like Polaris that can afford to subsidize the new brand for awhile from sales of the established brand. But even they don’t have infinite resources.

I guess I’ll stick with my Honda, Kawasaki, and Suzuki bikes. There are a lot of them out there.

Meanwhile, I want to note that as I prepped to write this piece I googled Honda, Harley, and Indian dealerships in Colorado and was amazed–as I periodically am–at how many shops come and go. And then there are those who change their names. I try to keep my “Colorado Motorcycle Dealers and Repair Shops” page reasonably current but this is an ever-changing target. I ended up adding about eight new shops and revising the name on two. About once a year I try to go through and click each link to see who is no longer in business, and there are always a bunch of those. Ah, the joys of running a website.

Biker Quote for Today

Reasons not to date a motorcyclist: We never ask for directions. Getting lost is usually the point on a motorcycle.