Passes & Canyons Blog

I still love this bike–my first love.

Ongoing mechanical issues with my now 41-year-old Honda CB750 Custom some years ago had me thinking the unthinkable, as in getting rid of it rather than continuing to put money into it. It didn’t happen, but for the only time in all those years I was at least considering it.

But this is the first bike I ever owned. I had ridden motorcycles before but this is the bike that I learned to actually ride on. There really is a difference. Anyone can get on a bike and start it up and go forward. To handle that bike with skill and finesse is an entirely different matter. It takes time, and this was the first bike I ever spent enough time on to learn these things.

Thinking these thoughts had me thinking about the early days, when I had no idea how much I didn’t know. When my friend Richard heard I’d gotten a bike he commented that I must be figuring out the seeming contradiction of counter-steering. I looked at him blankly because I had no idea what he was talking about. Of course, counter-steering is that business where you put pressure on the right grip if you want to go right, the left grip if you want to go left. If you think about steering, pressing on the right grip–away from you–would seem to turn the front wheel to the left, so how does that make you go right? I’m not even going to get into that lengthy discussion here but trust me, it does. I had some learning to do.

Another thing I learned right away was to back into a curb. I read something awhile ago from a non-rider who had passed through Sturgis during the rally who wondered why it was that all the bikes were parked with their rear wheels backed in. Was this just some unspoken law of biker cool?

Hardly. Within the first week or two that I owned the Honda I ran over to the local motorcycle dealership to get something. I pulled in the parking lot, which sloped down from the building toward the street, and pulled into a space alongside the sidewalk, nose in. Guess what happened when I was ready to leave. With no reverse gear, I had to muscle this 600-pound bike uphill, backward. Of course if I had backed it in I would have just climbed on, started it up, and driven away. That’s one of those lessons you learn once and never forget.

Paying attention to the kill switch is another lesson but it doesn’t sink in quite so quickly. If you take a Motorcycle Safety Foundation rider training course they will teach you to turn the bike off every time by flipping the kill switch. I’m sure if you get in that habit you will never forget then to flip that switch back whenever you want to start. I don’t do it that way. I just turn off the ignition key.

In my mind, at least in the beginning, the kill switch was something you would use in an emergency, such as if you dropped the bike and the engine didn’t die on its own. What I had to learn is that sometimes you get all fat-fingered and hit the kill switch inadvertently. Sometimes that means you’re trying to start it and nothing is happening. Other times, you might be cruising along and all of a sudden the bike dies, and for the life of you, you can’t figure out why.

I did this once when I was setting my throttle lock and my hand grazed the kill switch. I sat there by the road for half an hour while two different bikers stopped to offer assistance. I felt pretty stupid when I finally figured out what the problem was. Eventually I just developed the habit of scanning the controls every time before starting to make sure everything is in the proper position.

I could go on; there’s a lot more. But the point is, I learned all of this on the Honda. This bike has been with me since the start, quite a bit longer even than my wife has been with me. Could I really let it go? At this point I’d say no, and back then I never had to make that choice. After getting a bunch of work done on it then, ever since it has been a dependable, good-running bike.

On the other hand, I know a number of guys who are younger than me who have decided they’re getting too old and it’s time to hang up the spurs. Do I see that happening any time soon? Not on your life! But before I hang up the spurs I’m guessing I will get rid of these heavy bikes I now ride and get something smaller. But I don’t even see that happening any time soon. Heck, Roy is 89 and still rides his big Beemer across the country. I’m planning to be Roy.

Biker Quote for Today

I’m a biker grandpa. Just like a normal grandpa except much cooler.

The top of Mount Evans is one place I want to get to again in 2021, perhaps this time without the snow.

It’s December 31 right now so it could be a tiny bit early to lock in my 2020 mileage but it’s unlikely I’ll be going anywhere today, so here goes.

Every year I tally up the miles I put on each of my three motorcycles and on my car. Once again, as has been the case for a long time, I put more miles on the bikes than I did on the car.

Obviously this has been an unusual year and my car mileage really shows it. I only drove my car 1,979 miles in 2020. That’s amazing. In comparison, I rode the Concours alone for 2,977 miles. I also put 1,026 on the CB750 and 1,046 on the V-Strom. That’s a total of 5,049 miles on the bikes–more than two and one-half times the miles I put on the car.

While 5,049 miles on the bikes may not seem like much it is in fact more than I did the previous year. In 2019 I only rode 4,777 miles. In last year’s post where I tallied all this I set a goal for myself to ride 10,000 miles. Clearly that didn’t happen. Pretty much nobody got out and around as much as they had planned to in 2020, and I’m certainly no exception.

The one really big difference this year is that for the first time since 2010 I rode the Honda more than 1,000 miles. This was not an accident or by chance. I’ve mostly neglected that bike for a long time and I told myself in 2020 I was going to make a point to ride it more. I guess I succeeded on that goal.

So what goals to set for 2021? That’s easy. Ride a lot more. And with vaccines on the way that should be an easy goal to meet. The RMMRC had what looked like a terrific ride set up, up the Great River Road from St. Charles, MO, to the source of the Mississippi in Minnesota. That ride didn’t happen in 2020 but it is now planned for 2021. I definitely intend to go on that one.

The OFMC did take its trip in 2020 and I’m now planning the 2021 trip. And maybe 2021 will be the year I finally do the article I proposed to Rider magazine three years ago. I’m sure Mark Tuttle has forgotten I ever pitched that story to him but I’m confident he’ll accept it if I ever get it to him. But first I have to do the ride.

So here’s looking to 2021 to be a much better year. And let’s hit that 10,000 mark this time.

Biker Quote for Today

Some bikers never realize how anti-social they are until there’s a pandemic and their life doesn’t really change that much.

John and Bill and our original bikes on one of our very early trips.

Riding hasn’t been much of an option lately, which sets me to reminiscing. Like back to when first John, then I, then Bill got our first motorcycles.

Mind you, Bill and John had had scooters when they were in junior high, which gave way to cars in high school. I would have had a scooter, too, but my Mom wouldn’t let me. I’ve told that story more than once. But these were the first real motorcycles any of us ever had.

It happened largely by chance. It’s been so many years that my memory is weak on the particulars but one way or another, John knew some guy who had a 750 Virago he needed to get rid of and he offered it to John at a price that was too good to pass up.

So one day John shows up at my door on this motorcycle. Hop on, let’s go for a ride. What a revelation! One of the first things I noticed was the smells. You weren’t closed up in some box, you were out in the open and if you went past some place with odors you smelled them. This is new.

And then there were the microclimates you are normally totally unaware of. What sticks in my memory was riding at night up north on Lowell and we went down into the dip of a small stream. Quickly down and back up but it had to be nearly 10 degrees cooler down in the dip. Who knew?

And then there was the whole concept of riding. When John and I went riding we didn’t generally have anywhere we actually wanted to go. We’d just pick a destination because that was an excuse to go ride.

So it wasn’t long and I was thinking really hard about getting my own bike. Of course John was all in favor of that. And back then there was a little shop just a few blocks from my house where they sold mostly used bikes and did repairs. John and I went over there and there were three bikes I found interesting. One was a Honda CB750 C, another was a Honda CB750 K, and I can’t remember the third. I was concerned that these were all a bit big for inexperienced me but John assured me that if I bought a small bike now, in just a few months I would be dissatisfied with it and want a bigger one. Better to get the bigger one now. Of course he was right.

So I bought the CB750 C, but John had to ride it to my house because I didn’t have a license or learner’s permit and I had never had any lessons on riding. Every other motorcycle I had ridden previously–many years earlier–had been no bigger than 305cc.

I got my learner’s permit and John and I went riding. No training, just go do it. Apparently I did so successfully. I have little memory of my learning period. Then I had to get my regular license. John had the advantage that he had kept his motorcycle accreditation current on his driver’s license all these years but I had to take the test. And the only bike I had to take the test on was my 750. I’ve told that story before, too, but suffice it to say that, on the second try, I passed the riding test on my big bike. I don’t think many people do that.

Now we were really cooking. But there was one thing missing. Bill watched wistfully as his two buddies went out having fun. It didn’t take long and Bill announced to us that he had bought a brand new Honda Shadow. He was joining the club. Now we were set. The OFMC was coming into being.

Biker Quote for Today

Life is too short to let dreams sit idle. Make every day count.

Judy shot this from behind me as we cruised through British Columbia on the rented Harley.

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.

I love having three bikes, partly because they’re so different and each has its own strength.

I maintain the iron rule that I ride each of my motorcycles at least once every single month. (I did finally miss two months following heart surgery two years ago.) As such, when we get to this time of year it pays to be preemptive. You never know when the weather will turn and your plans to ride next week get shot to pieces.

The weather so far in November has been spectacular. Plenty of time to get in at least three rides. So on Monday I was planning to ride one bike, then a second on Tuesday, and the third on Wednesday going on an RMMRC ride. Then life stepped in.

Judy and I had been hoping to squeeze in one last camping trip this year and on Monday she said let’s go camping–today. There was no way I could say no to that, nor would I want to, so Pawnee Buttes here we came. I can ride later.

Of course, that shot Tuesday as a day to ride as well but I could still go with the RMMRC on Wednesday.

Then I woke up on Wednesday feeling decidedly under the weather. Of course probably the first thing most people think of at this moment when they feel sick is, is this Covid? I didn’t figure it was but even if it was just a cold I saw no reason to share it with others so I did not ride with the RMMRC. Besides, I felt like crap.

Now the situation was turning. The weather forecast said the nice days were going to end soon. Snow was projected for Monday. Fortunately, on Thursday, I was feeling quite a bit better. Is that all this cold has to throw at me? Hah! That’s nothing. So I went out on the CB750. Then on Friday I rode the Concours.

On Saturday the cold–which is what I had deemed it to be by this point–came back to bite me and I was not feeling good. But I had that V-Strom to ride and snow was still being forecast for Monday. Sure the likelihood is that after a brief cold spell things will get nice again, but I’ve learned not to trust that assumption. So on Saturday I rode the V-Strom. I made it serve double duty as I stopped off at Walgreen’s to pick up some throat lozenges and Tylenol. And then Sunday I was still feeling like crap, spending most of the day on the couch trying to breathe through all the sinus congestion.

But I got the bikes ridden. I sure hope that’s not the last riding I do in November, but if it is, I did get each one out.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker when you make your bike payment before any other bills are paid.

This is the Kaoko throttle lock he had on his ST.

I was riding with the RMMRC recently and there was a new guy on his first ride with the group. I didn’t catch his name. What I did catch was that he had a throttle lock I’d never seen before.

Of course, the large percentage of modern touring bikes come with cruise control built in. Cruise control is superior to a throttle lock because you set the speed and the engine revs more going up hills and less going down so you stay a constant speed. With a throttle lock, unless you adjust it, you’ll slow down going up and speed up going down.

Plus, in my experience, they have a tendency to slip so you periodically have to adjust them.

And I do have extensive experience here. I have throttle locks on all three of my bikes. Two of them are the type that clip on the bar and to set it you snap it shut. With a flange braced against the box that houses your kill switch and starter button it stays in place and keeps the throttle from backing off.

The other kind, which I have on the V-Strom, is just a lever that rotates when you turn the throttle. To set it you push it forward with your thumb so when you release the throttle it rests against the brake lever, blocking the throttle from backing off.

The first kind, which I have on the CB750 and the Concours, works best. It can slip but you can tighten it. Still, I’ve never been able to get it set on the Concours so it doesn’t slip. The second kind would probably work best if it tightly grabbed the bar but at least on my V-Strom it does not. So it slips a lot and there is no adjustment. Basically I have to speed up more than I really want, set it, and then I have a short time to relax my grip before I have to do it again.

So I was very interested in this throttle lock on this Honda ST. It is made by Kaoko and it’s more expensive than the others: about $130 versus $15 to $20. What the guy told me is that he had to take the weight off the end of the bar and then jam the coned end inside the plastic tube that allows your throttle to rotate on the bar. Then to use it you push the knob forward and set the throttle where you want it. Then let go.

How well does it work? He didn’t say a lot about that but he sure didn’t complain about it. If you ask me about my throttle locks I’ll tell you about their deficiencies and well as their benefits.

So will I try one? Oh, maybe, but spending $130 on something that might not be better than what I have is a hard choice to make. What I would really like would be if the company offered to either give me one or let me try one so I can then test it and write about it. That’s how I get a lot of my gear. But if I do end up with one, one way or the another, you can bet I’ll be telling you about it here.

Biker Quote for Today

If I was a motorcycle, a Vincent red Rapide, I’d ride around to your house, baby, get you up to speed. — Mark Knopfler

Judy and me with the Concours on the Canada trip.

Judy and I had been married for three years when I bought the Concours. She had ridden with me numerous times on the CB750 but those had been mostly just short day rides of about 100 miles, plus one over-nighter we did just down to Manitou Springs.

After I bought the Concours it seemed the natural thing to do was join the Concours Owners Group (COG). And if you’re going to join a group you pretty much ought to figure on going on some of their rides. So when a day ride was announced we decided to go along.

What we did not know about this group was that the general approach for a day ride was to really take a ride, as in a long day. We got up early and jumped on I-25 down to Colorado Springs where the group was meeting up at a cafe. We didn’t know the route, we just figured we’d follow the leader.

From Colorado Springs we headed southwest to Penrose and then took CO 67 down to CO 165, down to I-25 again down by Colorado City. Along the way we stopped at Bishop Castle, which was our first visit there. This is why you join a riding group because they take you places you don’t even know are places.

Somewhere along this route–I don’t remember where–we stopped for lunch at the home of someone the ride organizer knew. This was pretty nice of them considering that there were probably about two dozen of us.

On I-25 we headed south to Walsenburg and then turned off onto CO 69, which heads up through Westcliffe. It was at this point, on a break, that Judy heard one of the other women riding behind that for the last hour all she had been able to think about was putting her knees together. Judy hadn’t been thinking about it but from this point on it was very much in her mind, too. At this point we had gone about 200 miles, which was the longest ride she had ever been on. And we were nowhere close to home.

We continued on CO 69 up to Cotopaxi and U.S. 50. We took 50 east to Penrose again, where we stopped for gas. Most everyone filled up but I figured we were fine so I didn’t get gas. We backtracked northeast to Colorado Springs and at this point people started peeling off, each going their own way. We got on CO 83 rather than take the interstate back to Denver. By this time we were on our own.

I knew we were low on gas but I figured on getting some at Franktown. But we didn’t reach Franktown. About five miles south the engine sputtered and we coasted to a stop in front of a farm house. Oh crap.

Fortunately someone was home, and they had gas to sell us, so with a gallon poured in we made it on to Franktown and a station. Then home. Altogether we did about 400 miles that day. I mean, to put that into perspective, in 30 years of doing the OFMC rides I’m not sure we have ever done a 400 mile day, and if we have we’ve only done it once or twice at most. Judy never did another COG ride with me, and I never did another COG ride of that length. I’m sorry, some people really enjoy that but not us.

Not that we don’t do long rides, we just break them up more. Two years ago we did 3,000 miles in about two weeks, up to British Columbia and back. But that comes out to just a little more than 200 miles a day, on average. Certainly we had longer and shorter days on that trip but only one of those was over 300.

Oh, but it’s all about the stories, right? If we hadn’t done this I wouldn’t have this story to tell.

Biker Quote for Today

She hugged me tight, burying her face into my back and the longer I drove the tighter she held and though her eyes were closed I knew she was smiling. I could just tell. — Atticus

Flipping this petcock was supposed to provide me with fuel. It didn’t.

I knew I was running low on gas the morning I set out with the RMMRC on a ride over Guanella Pass. That was not a problem. We planned to gas up in Morrison and I was on the Honda, and had not yet gone to Reserve. I had plenty of gas to get that far, although I fully expected to need to switch to Reserve before I got there.

As expected, about the time we crossed Broadway on Belleview the bike sputtered a bit and I turned the petcock. But it didn’t seem to make any difference. I struggled along maybe another mile and then the bike just died.

The first thing I did was to remove the gas cap and look inside. There was definitely still gas in there, though not a whole lot. I checked the petcock position and, as expected, it was on Reserve. It wouldn’t start in that position so I moved it back to On. It still wouldn’t start. Back to Reserve and still no dice.

Roy and Charley had come back to check on me and Roy had me try a few things. No dice. Roy, however, is one of those totally prepared guys and he pulled out a bottle that he carries all the time, containing half a gallon of gas. I poured it in, tried the starter a few times, and sure enough it finally fired up and kept running.

OK, what’s the deal here? They told me to go ahead and they would ride behind me just to be sure.

On my way out to Morrison I wondered about it. Had I only partially filled the tank last time I got gas? This bike usually needs to go to Reserve at about 180 miles and it had done so this time at 185. I have run out before when I have forgotten to move the petcock back to On, and if I had not filled it all the way it could have run dry at 185. But it definitely was not already on Reserve. ???

So at Morrison I filled the tank and guess what: This tank holds 5-1/2 gallons. Roy had given me half a gallon and then we had ridden about 10-15 miles. The tank reached full after only 4.07 gallons. That math does not add up.

I filled the tank there at Morrison and then we rode a bit more than 100 additional miles that day and all went just fine. But now I need to figure out what the situation is. It appears to be a blockage of some kind in the fuel line but how to confirm this?

I figure the first thing to do is simply to switch to Reserve with plenty of gas in the tank and see if it runs. That way I know I won’t be stranded out somewhere because I can just flip back to On. But what if that doesn’t do it?

I have wondered for a long time about how the Reserve setting functions physically. The tank straddles the frame so does one side (Reserve) stay full as the other side empties? With intakes on both sides? Or, I have wondered, is it all one feed with an intake at one elevation, with flipping the petcock simply lowering the intake?

OK, so I got answers. There are two intakes, side by side, at different levels. So even if I switch to Reserve, if there is enough gas in the tank it is going to be fed via the primary intake.

While I tend to have a mechanical aptitude, I’m not this much of a motorcycle mechanic, so this means it is time to call Joel, my mechanic.

Biker Quote for Today

Top 10 signs that a computer is owned by a Harley rider: 05. — The mouse is referred to as “the rat.”