Passes & Canyons Blog

From left, the V-Strom, the CB750, and the Concours. Good-bye to the Connie, I’ll need now to do a shot of just the remaining two.

It’s that time where each year I look at the mileage on each of my bikes and set some goals for riding the remaining few weeks. This year is a pretty darn odd year.

For one thing, I sold the Concours. For another, my car got smashed and I got another. And third, for the first time in a lot of years it appears I will have put my miles on my car than on my bikes. How did that that happen?

Just for starters, it’s been a low-mileage year for everything. To date I only have put about 3,100 miles on my cars this year. I’m fine with that. But last year I put about 6,500 miles on my bikes. So far this year I’m at about 2,500 miles on the bikes. Seriously?

I think a lot of this has to do with the markedly less activity going on with the RMMRC. Ever since I joined that group I have gone on a whole lot of rides with them, but this year there just haven’t been that many rides. And one ride that did happen that I intended to go on–a Colorado four-corners ride–I had to drop out of because I had had minor butt surgery that made riding just too painful.

I know Bruce, one of my friends from the RMMRC, also rides with a couple other groups and has suggested I join them. I may do just that. It looks like the RMMRC may be fading away.

So what goals can I set for the rest of 2024? I try each year to put at least 1,000 miles on each of my bikes. That may not seem like much but for a long time I have had trouble getting that many miles on the Honda CB750 Custom. I’ve just ridden the other bikes a whole lot more. But with the sale of the Connie I figured for sure I’d put a lot more miles on the Honda.

And yet, here we are in mid-November and I have put almost the same number of miles on the Honda this year as last year. I still have time and the weather has been pretty good so I do expect yet to surpass last year but more than 1,000? It doesn’t seem likely. But surpassing last year looks like the best I can hope for. And as for turning the odometer over another 1,000, that really looks like it’s off the table because I just did that, sitting now at 38,136. I don’t think I’m going to be putting another 864 miles on that bike this year. I’m just going to have to do better next year.

As for the V-Strom, I’m about 2,000 miles behind last year on it. What I can shoot for is at least turning over another 1,000 yet, as the odo now sits at 47,930. If I can’t get another 70 miles on that bike this year I should hang up riding gear.

I don’t think there’s any doubt what my New Year’s resolution needs to be come January 1: Ride. And ride some more. And ride some more. And then some more after that.

Biker Quote for Today

“The road never ends . . . only our vision does.” — Amit Reddy

Yeah, it looks like winter out there but technically it’s still only fall. In other words, it’s going to get worse before it gets better.

The temperature was in the 50s, hardly a cloud in the sky, and I had not ridden the Honda in November yet. My assignment was clear.

For once I actually had a route planned out in advance. I headed west on Belleview to Santa Fe and then south. It was about then that I remembered that the last time I went this way I couldn’t get through. There was major roadwork in progress where Santa Fe crosses C-470 and I had gone around and around trying to figure a way to get where I wanted to go. Either I was going to have to find another route again or else I’d get to see what they had done.

The construction was finished so I got through, but what exactly they had done was not at all clear to me. What the heck was all that about? I was expecting a whole new interchange with C-470 or something but that was not the case. I’m assuming I’ll never know.

Just south of that interchange, however, they had shifted the road a bit. The gas station and other shops that used to be right along the road are now accessible only by turning off the main road onto a bit of frontage. Making them more difficult to get to but making the road a little safer I’m sure, eliminating all that pulling on and off right onto the main road.

I continued on south on US 85, with nothing much new to be seen here. Reaching Castle Rock, I crossed I-25 and took Founders Parkway just to the left turn onto Crowfoot Valley Road, the most direct route between Castle Rock and Parker. This road has seen huge changes since I started riding it, going from a small two-lane with a lot of open country to having housing developments just about everywhere. At one point I passed a farm that used to be all alone out there and now there is a row of houses looking down on it from the ridge above, going on and on and on. How long ago was that farm isolated? Two years? Yeah, a lot of change around here.

It was a potentially chilly day so I had worn my electric vest but had not felt the need to turn it on yet. Castle Rock is higher than Denver, being down toward the Palmer Divide, so I was definitely feeling the cool here. I considered turning the vest on but it just really wasn’t necessary.

I ran up Crowfoot Valley Road till it turns into Motsenbocker Road at Stroh Road and up to where it bends west on Todd Drive. Right there there was construction going on that looks as though they’re connecting to the northeast to Parker Road across a new bridge. That will be interesting to explore when it’s done.

Todd took me to Jordan Road, which I took up to Arapahoe, then east to Parker Road and on home. About 60 miles–an hour and a half. Nice day for a ride.

Biker Quote for Today

Why motorcycles are better than women: You can’t get diseases from a motorcycle you don’t know very well.

My baby, my first bike, my Honda CB750 Custom.

I’ve kept a journal off and on all my life, and consistently for the last 40 years. While, for me, the simple act of putting things down on paper is beneficial, it’s also a very interesting thing to go back later and read what you wrote. Here’s something I just ran across, from October of 1992. This was on my Honda CB750, the only bike I had back then.

I stayed a while longer, then got on the bike and headed home. Turning off Federal onto 67th my chain jumped off the sprocket and I had no power but could roll, and did, till the rear wheel locked up right out front. Jack (my neighbor across the street) helped me get it to the garage and this morning he helped me get it back to where I can at least ride it to Legends (a motorcycle shop just up on Federal a couple blocks from me) tomorrow. I’ll need a new chain and who knows what else.

OK, several things here. I had just come across town and this could have happened anywhere but it did happen just about 200 feet from home. How lucky is that!

Also, the chain jumped off the sprocket? How loose must it have been, and how negligent of me not to have noticed. I had been on I-70 much of the way home and what would have happened to me if the chain had come off at 70 mph? I mean, the rear wheel locked up. I might not be here writing this today.

Then there was this a few days later.

Got my bike from the shop. $55 for a new chain and installation but now the foot brake is sticking and causing a problem.

Yeah, you read that right. Just $55 for the chain and installation. Of course back then that was actually a big hit to my wallet. That’s inflation. But inflation is also the reason you can buy a house and have a payment that is a real stretch, but some years later it’s not a stretch at all. I’ve been a beneficiary of that and I’m sure many of you have as well.

I haven’t yet reached the next chapter in this story in my reading but I’ll reconstruct it here from memory.

As I noted, the brake was sticking. I had no idea why. I soon found out.

I was out at about Colfax and Monaco a few days later and the brake seized completely. And it wasn’t the rear brake it was the front brake. I must have gotten things confused previously–I was still pretty new to riding motorcycles at this time.

I pulled off the street and got down to check on the problem and in doing so I touched the brake disc with my finger. Yow! That sucker was so blazing hot it scorched my fingertip and left me with a second-degree burn. This is not good.

I was way across town but I figured this had to have been a result of something the shop did, something they did not set up properly. So I called them and told them where I was stranded and why. And here’s another thing I don’t think you’re likely to see any more: They sent a guy over with a truck and picked me up and hauled me back to the shop–no charge.

It turned out they had adjusted the cable on the brake a little too snugly and apparently the pads were in constant contact with the disc, gradually building up heat and expanding, until things seized. They readjusted it and that was that.

OK, so here’s one caveat. I know both of these events occurred. I’m going from memory saying one led to the other. I may read on in my journal and find that they were separate events. I’m simply not sure at this point. But they both did happen. And they both hark back to my title up above: Things Change. They certainly do. For one thing, that shop is long gone, as motorcycle repair shops seem to have a penchant for doing. And you’re not very likely to get that kind of service these days either. Heck, you go to an Italian restaurant these days and the bread sticks they used to give you are now available for a price.

The only constant is change.

Biker Quote for Today

“My dreams for the future are simple: work, a happy, healthy family, a lovely long motorcycle ride, and continuing the struggle to awaken people to the need for serious human rights reform.” — Mike Farrell

Once again I can connect my battery to the trickle charger and my electric vest to the battery.

I mentioned last time how when I went to plug in my electric vest there was nowhere for me to plug it into. Removing the seat on this 1980 Honda CB750 Custom is enough of a pain that I didn’t get to that right away but I did turn my attention in that direction over the weekend.

Removing the seat would theoretically be easy but in practice it is anything but. The seat has a tongue that you insert into the compartment for it just below the gas tank. But first you have to remove two bolts, one on each side. Easy, right? Well, it might be except I have a sissy bar on the back and the two bolts are very close to each other. Then the bar that is one of the main structural members of the sissy bar, which includes back rest, tool bag, and luggage rack, passes directly over the bolt that holds the seat on.

In other words, I can’t get at it directly. So I slip a box-end wrench under the bar to work the bolt. But that’s not all. When the seat is in place there is stress on the frame of the seat such that the bolt does not turn freely. I have learned that I need to first lay across the seat from the left side to the right, putting my weight on the seat to push it down. In this way I position the bolt hole on the seat frame perfectly around the bolt and then it screws out easily. Next I have to raise the right side of the seat to get the bolt and bolt hole aligned, and then I can unscrew that one.

OK, taking the seat off is really not that big a deal. And I got it off and sure enough, the shop failed to put the two pigtails back on when they worked on the bike this spring. I have two pigtails. One is for my electric vest and the other is for my trickle charger. Neither were there.

Fortunately I have extras because when I sold the Concours earlier this year I stripped off equipment like that. Now I just had to find where I had put them. I wasn’t having much luck finding them but in the process I came across a spare vest connector that I had forgotten I had. Brand new, never been used. They must have been packed two to a package. Cool.

It took a lot of looking but then I did find the stuff I took off the Concours. And wasn’t it fortunate I had found that spare vest connector. I had forgotten that to hook the vest up to the Connie’s circuitry I had to snip off the loops that normally go over the battery posts and replace them with plugs that were inserted into the bike’s outlets. I had kept the loops and I could have reversed the process but with the spare I didn’t need to. Nice.

Next I removed the two side panels in order to get to the battery. Again, theoretically you should be able to remove the side panels with the seat in place. In practice it really isn’t possible. No problem, the seat was off.

So I hooked it all up and was about to put the other things back in place but on this bike the battery has a metal strap holding it in place and that strap has a bumped out spot where the battery cable needs to go. So before you reattach the battery you have to bolt this strap back in place and position the cable properly. I had not done that, so I had to undo the connections, put the cable in place, then redo the connections. Fine, now put the rest of the bike back together.

I got the seat back on, which is a lot harder than getting it off. To get the bolt started you have to hold it with two fingertips and position it just right and then turn it to get the threads started. This can be–and usually is–very awkward. But I got it done. Then I realized I had not put the side panels back on. So I had to remove the seat again, put the side panels on, and then put the seat back on again.

Fun, huh? I know it was my own carelessness that caused me to have to do these things twice. I really shouldn’t forget them because I have made these same mistakes more than once in the past. But dang it, I shouldn’t have had to be doing any of this. If the guy at the shop had done his job properly my connectors would have been where they were supposed to be.

And this was not the first time I’ve had this kind of thing happen. I once started out on a week-long trip after finally getting my bike back from the shop, only to realize about 50 miles out of town that the mechanic had failed to put one of my highway pegs back on. I like highway pegs. I use my highway pegs. And there I was gone on a long trip and one highway peg was not where it was supposed to be.

Yes we all make mistakes, but when I make a mistake no one is paying me for my efforts. I’m paying these mechanics. I think it’s not unfair for me to hold them to a little higher standard. But if I learn any lesson from this it should be that when I get a bike back from the shop I need to go over it carefully looking for exactly this sort of thing. Will I learn that lesson? I’ll keep you informed.

Biker Quote for Today

100 reasons not to date a biker: 29. We wake up at 4:00 AM to watch the MotoGP race in Australia.

Think of all I would have missed if I’d never learned to ride a motorcycle.

I wasn’t born knowing how to ride a motorcycle. I had to learn. Neither were you? What a coincidence. Eventually I did learn, however. You did, too? Good for us.

I did not learn by taking a class. Heck, I’m not sure I was even aware back then that classes like that were offered. If I had been I wouldn’t have taken one because I was poor. I was so poor, in fact, that I had to borrow money from my parents to buy my first motorcycle, although I never let them in on that secret till many years later.

Before I bought that bike, my 1980 Honda CB750 Custom, I had ridden motorcycles occasionally, although not recently. I had friends when I was younger who had bikes who occasionally let me ride, but it was only good fortune that kept me from crashing them. I didn’t know how to steer properly.

When I bought my Honda, a friend who had ridden scooters as a kid told me he assumed I understood about counter-steering. Nope. Never heard of it. He didn’t know how to explain it, other than you push the bar right to go left, so I was still none the wiser. But I now understood there was something I needed to learn more about.

Whenever I’m new to something I dive in and learn as much as I can as quickly as I can, mostly by reading. John’s first bike (as an adult; he had a scooter as a kid) was an old Gold Wing that someone gave him. (Nice, huh? Would like this free Gold Wing? Oh gosh, I don’t know. Sure, I’ll take it.) That was a bit too big a bike for him right off the bat but he rode some with another teacher at his school. Then when that guy died unexpectedly his widow asked if John would like to buy his Virago at a very low price. So John got rid of the Gold Wing and bought the Virago.

Along with the Virago, the widow gave John a bunch of her husband’s motorcycle magazines. These he shared with me. The first issue I ever saw of Rider magazine was the one with the newly introduced Honda Pacific Coast on the cover. I read those magazines cover to cover, including the ads, soaking up every bit of knowledge I could. Soon I was subscribing to Rider and Cycle and passing them along to the guys after I had read them. I still do that.

This–along with practice on the road–was where I learned about counter-steering. Along with a whole lot more.

I also learned about traction management. I’m talking about how you have the most traction when the bike is completely erect and the farther you lean the less available traction you have, right up to the point where you lose traction altogether and go into a low-side crash.

First John got a bike, then I did, then Bill did. We rode together a lot. One thing I quickly noticed was how both of them were able to go faster in the twisties than I could. I initially attributed this simply to the fact that they had both had scooters as kids and so were more experienced than me. Later I also figured out that both of their bikes had lower centers of gravity than mine, which just simply made it easier for them. (It’s funny to think of my Honda as having a high center of gravity. My two other bikes, a 1999 Kawasaki Concours and a 2006 Suzuki V-Strom 650 are both very tall bikes and I have long come to consider the Honda as the low one.)

Trying to learn to ride better, and to keep up with them, I took to sitting up straight and leaning my Honda way over. I did not understand the risk that entailed as opposed to leaning my body to the inside of the curve and keeping the bike as upright as possible. But I never crashed and eventually I learned the ins and outs of maintaining traction.

Most of my friends to this day have never taken a riding class. Eventually I was no longer poor and I did take riding classes–a whole bunch of them ultimately. By then I could ride competently and what I ended up learning were some finer points that I had still missed. It may surprise you but even an experienced rider can learn something from a riding class.

I did learn to ride. And I like to think I eventually got pretty darn good at it. So here’s a thank-you to everyone–writers, teachers, other riders–who helped me get to this point. I don’t think I would have gotten this good without you.

Biker Quote for Today

On the bike, time stretches, and I glimpse moments of forever.

That’s Johnathon’s Virago before it fell. That’s Johnathon on the left, next to his dad.

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.

Years later John and Bill, in the center, were still riding those Shadows with no windshields.

Revisiting the OFMC’s California trip the other day got me to thinking about how jerry-rigged the whole thing was even then. Yes, we did have good rainsuits, probably the first thing we learned early on that we needed. But what about things like a throttle lock or cruise control?

We rode a lot of days on that trip where we covered many miles and as I would imagine you know, holding onto that throttle grip for that long can get pretty dang tiring. But if you read that post you may be saying, What? How did Bill ride 35 miles hands-free if you didn’t have throttle locks?

Well, John is pretty inventive. What he rigged out for the two of them–I was OK just holding onto the grip–was a string tied to the handlebar with a Popsicle stick on the other end. They would get up to speed and insert that Popsicle stick between the grip and the float, wedging it in tightly enough that it would stay. It didn’t always stay put but hey, you just grab it and stick it back in. They covered a lot of miles like that.

And these long days were even longer than they might have been. Right from the start I have always insisted on having a windshield on my bikes. Those guys were just the opposite. Neither of them had windshields on their Shadows.

Now, John had had one on his Virago up until the time he and I spent a night out in Laramie doing some heavy drinking and he then went down on a patch of gravel making the turn into our motel. He got a little road rash was all, but his windshield was busted and rather than replace it he just took it off and rode without. Then he got the Shadow and it didn’t come with one and he never put one on.

OK, so fine, to each his own. But on this trip, when we were covering so many miles, I naturally wanted to run a little fast. But guess what? They didn’t like the buffeting they got from the wind so they didn’t want to go fast. In fact, much of the time they wouldn’t even go the speed limit. It’s a long ride across Utah and Nevada if you don’t even go the speed limit.

Neither of these guys ever got windshields until they each moved on to their first Harleys, which came with fairings. Then they wondered how they had ever done without them. I had wondered that for a long time before that. At least we all had gotten throttle locks eventually on the older bikes but windshields? Nope.

So that’s the low tech and the no tech. The high tech–at least relatively speaking–was, as I mentioned before, heated gear. It didn’t matter how cold they got on this trip while we were along the coast. And it didn’t matter how cold they got any other time, whether we were on the trip or just doing a day ride. And we did one day ride where we got surprised by an unexpected snow storm. They never got heated gear, despite complaining about being so cold and hearing me rave about my electric vest. And then later my heated gloves. OK guys, your choice.

Of course, now I’m the one who doesn’t have an actual cruise control on either of my bikes. And the throttle lock on my V-Strom really doesn’t work very well. But retrofitting them with cruise control would be a real job and costly, if they even make units that would work on those bikes. That’s what I’ve got my eyes set on with the next bike I get. Whatever I get, assuming I ever buy another bike, I really, really want cruise control.

Biker Quote for Today

Why motorcycles are better than women: Your motorcycle won’t leave you for another rider.

We made it to the Pacific.

Probably the most ambitious trip the OFMC ever made was in 1999 when we decided it was time to head for the ocean. The Pacific, to be exact. California here we come.

Normally we would leave on these trips on Friday and return on Saturday but for this we left all of one day earlier, and not even early in the day. We hit the road at 2 p.m., heading west on I-70. Where we were promptly hit at about Silver Plume by what may still be the biggest deluge we ever encountered. But by now, this being our eleventh year, we were prepared, had good rain suits, and we just rode right through it. I do recall vehicles going the other direction sending huge walls of water over the median barrier onto us.

Despite our late start we got to Green River, Utah, that evening. The next–very hot–day was just blasting on I-70 to Ely, Nevada. These are the days when you appreciate the pool at the motel.

We were a little wary of crossing Nevada on US 50, the Loneliest Road in America, but it was actually pretty nice. Clouds were appreciated. But we had to pay the incredibly high price of $2 a gallon for gas! Outrage! We made it to Lake Tahoe that day, staying in South Tahoe, in California, where it was cheaper, and we walked into Nevada to gamble.

The next day we looped around Lake Tahoe and crossed Donner Pass on I-80. A short while later we got off the superslab onto CA 20 through Yuba City and on to Calistoga. This was the day when we first experienced some of the tight, twisty, up-and-down roads that California is famous for. Calistoga was a good stop: good food, a decent motel, and alcoholic beverages, of course.

Then we crossed into the Napa Valley, but we didn’t stop for wine tasting, we kept going until we crossed over into the Alexander Valley, also wine country. We stopped at Alexander Valley Vineyards and tasted a few wines and I just had no choice. I bought a case and had it shipped home. With the shipping, I calculated later that I only paid about double what I would have paid buying the same wine at home. But to this day I continue to buy Alexander Valley Vineyards wines.

After a night in Healdsburg we headed to Lake Sonoma Recreation Area where I knew one of the sweetest roads in California. The Stewart’s Point Skaggs Springs Road is so out of the way and sparsely used that a lot of it is one lane. It loops through the forest with so many curves that Bill said later it made him a little sick to his stomach. But then it comes out onto Highway 1 right at the coast. We had made it to the Pacific.

We turned north and headed up to Mendocino. Then we got a real taste of what Mark Twain was talking about when he remarked something to the effect of, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a week in San Francisco.” Fortunately for me, by that time I had my electric vest and had brought it along. Bill and John have never acquired heated gear. I don’t understand why not. I love my vest and my heated gloves.

North of Mendocino, Highway 1 goes inland and we were not unhappy to say good-bye to the coast and coastal weather. We spent the night in Redding at a motel that turned out to be a long-term stay place for what looked like some families just scraping by. No problem; nice folks. Just not what we expected.

The next day we passed through Lassen Volcano National Park and turned south on a series of roads that eventually brought us to Reno. Stayed the night in Reno and then it was back across the Loneliest Road in America for another night in Ely. Bill had fun this day. His Shadow had a very low center of gravity so just like a bicycle, he could ride with no hands. He tested to see how far he could go without touching the handlebars and his best shot was about 35 miles.

The next day was just a hard day of riding, back to Green River. Then Bill went all the way home while John and I stopped for the night in Grand Junction with a friend living there, and home the next.

This was a trip full of hard days of riding. I rode my 1980 Honda CB750 Custom with its stock seat and my butt was really sore by the time we got home. Shortly afterward I bought my 1999 Kawasaki Concours and I rode it out to coffee one day with the guys. Hey, when we leave, I told them, you have to see the new seat I got. I walked them out to the Connie telling them, yeah, the seat cost me one heck of a lot but they threw in the whole rest of the bike at no extra charge.

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.