Passes & Canyons Blog

Sure enough, by morning Bill’s tire with the newly installed inner tube was flat. What the heck?

Preparing to hook up the little pump Bruce noticed that he could tighten the core in the valve stem in that tube just a tiny bit. Was that enough that it had leaked? Bill wasn’t going to test that by just riding on. We were in Farmington and there is a Harley dealer there, so with enough air to easily go five miles that was where we headed.

Long story short, Bill ended up paying about $2,000 for a new tire and wheel. Ouch. But now we could ride on confident that there should be no further problems.

We headed northeast on NM516 to Aztec and then took US 550 north. We really didn’t want to take 550 all the way up to US 160 and then go east on 160 because that’s a busy highway and we had been on it many times. Was there an alternative?

We looked at the map and saw that just a little ways into Colorado there was a road, CR110, that went east to Ignacio. And best of all, we had never been on this road. Great. Now we just had to find it. It’s not very well marked. We did find it, though, and it was a really nice road winding through some hills and some rolling ranch land. Time for lunch in Ignacio.

From Ignacio we took CO151 as it loops south and then north again, finally joining US 160 a little west of Pagosa Springs. Leaving Pagosa behind us we headed up Wolf Creek Pass. Dennis was leading, followed by Bill, then me, then Bruce.

One thing you have to understand about Bill is that he very much likes to set his cruise control and just let it go. Sometimes this means he’ll pull up on you and very slowly slip by. Other times it means he drops further and further back. This time he was dropping back. Meanwhile, I kind of wanted to run on up this very nice pass. So after a bit I blasted on past him.

But Dennis really wasn’t running up the pass either. And I felt like running. So I blew past him and really cranked it up. Pretty soon I saw that Bruce had also passed both of them and was enjoying a hot ride up, too. Fun. Eventually they both picked up speed and closed the gap a bit.

We came on down to South Fork and made the left turn off US 160 onto CO149 that runs through Creede and up over Slumgullion and Spring Creek Passes, to Lake City. But we weren’t going that far today, we were just headed to a campground and cabins between South Fork and Creede, Blue Creek Lodge and RV Park.

We were looking forward to our night here because I had received a call during the week telling me they had moved us from a smaller cabin to a full bunkhouse where we would each have our own room with private bath and a common area for meals and anything else. No extra charge. Cool. What we did not count on was that the road through the RV park was gravel and our bunkhouse was as far up this loose gravel as it is possible to go. I was on my Concours, which hates gravel, and Bill and Dennis are none too comfortable on gravel any time. Bruce, with his long legs as outriggers, is fine with that stuff.

The route winding through the RV park was also not really clear so I took a wrong turn at one point and we had to double back. Making the sharp right turn this necessitated I came just a hair’s breadth from dropping the bike. It was close, and then, fighting to keep it up, I had gotten too close to a cabin and had to roll back. That was less than fun on this loose stuff as well.

Dennis and Bruce and I finally made it to the top. Bill decided he would park at a lower level and just carry his stuff up to the cabin. It was clear that neither Dennis or I would be riding back down that road until we were leaving. But the lodge’s restaurant is not in operation so we had to do something to get dinner. So Bruce and Bill went back down and headed toward Creede to find some food to bring back. Meanwhile Dennis and I shuttled our bikes around to make it as easy as possible to get out the next morning.

We also noticed that heading down Bruce had stood up on his pegs. Dennis wondered aloud about that and I explained to him that standing on the pegs lowers you center of gravity from the seat to the pegs. We both figured maybe we’d try that in the morning.

Meanwhile, it was darn chilly and we had all turned the heat on in our rooms but nothing seemed to be happening. So we cranked them all the way up. Still nothing.

They guys got back with food, we ate and then had a good time sitting around shooting the bull. Then we headed to bed but the day wasn’t over. Each one of us, during the night, woke up to find that our heaters really do work and our rooms were broiling. I also went to the common area and turned that heater down so it wouldn’t be an oven in the morning. Now sleep.

Biker Quote for Today

Food, oxygen, love, sex, and motorcycles. Am I forgetting something?

Morning in Alpine, Arizona, and we had to wait for the tow truck to haul Bill’s Harley to Eager, where a shop would put a tube in. We had been told it would be noon but the guy was able to make it by 11, so that was good.

Meanwhile, I took this opportunity to remove the body work from my Concours so as to put my highway peg back on. Taking the body work off is an involved process that I hate but what better time to do it than right now. And it all went smoothly so it was good.

The tow truck arrived and loaded Bill on and we took off for Eager. There, the shop was ready for us and got on it right away but it was still several hours before the job was done. We finally got off from Eager about 3 p.m., and this was our longest day’s ride of the trip. Time to burn some miles.

We headed north on US 191, up to AZ61, which became NM53 when we crossed the state line, and then north to Gallup on NM602. At one point heading up 191 Bruce blasted past us on his ST1300 and in a flash was lost from view up ahead. Cool. What’s up?

Dennis was leading and at the AZ61 intersection he pulled over for a pit stop. Good thing, as it turned out, because he had not understood that we wanted to turn here and it was only after a couple minutes that we noticed Bruce had made the turn and was waiting over there. So we were back together. Turns out Bruce, who hasn’t owned the ST all that long, figured he wanted to see what it could really do and this road was so open and unbusy that he figured let’s go. And go he did. Everybody needs to do that now and then, don’t they?

So we made the turn and made it to Gallup, where we picked up US 491 headed north to Farmington, our destination for the night. This is a long stretch and we just blasted. Dennis was leading again and his GPS told him our best route would be to take 491 as far as Indian Service Route 5 (BIA-5; this is reservation) and then go east to NM371, then north to Farmington.

Dennis almost missed the turn and we found ourselves past the turn with a median preventing us from doing a U-turn and heading south so we waited till there was no traffic and then turned and rode the wrong way down the highway back to the turn. Of course, by the time we got there there was a lot of traffic coming off BIA-5 so I’m sure we looked kind of funny facing that way on that side of the road waiting to be able to turn. But it worked.

By now it was getting toward dusk. We don’t generally ride after dark these days. This was going to be interesting. Dennis was riding hard because he wanted to get to Farmington before the light was too much gone. But hey, sunset in New Mexico is frequently pretty gorgeous and so the ride did have its charms.

It was almost fully dark by the time we pulled into Farmington and we checked in our hotel and immediately went to dinner so as to get to the restaurant before they closed. Finally we can relax. Except that Bill had noticed his bike handling a bit off coming into town, and now especially going to and from dinner. ???

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if you move your bike and the grass is brown under the wheels.

I tried to find a used mirror at Steele’s–with no luck–and when I looked on the Concours Owners Group forum to see if anyone was parting a bike out I found one note that said “don’t waste everyone’s time asking for a used mirror, just buy one from Murph’s.” So I did.

By the time the new mirror arrived I had pretty well figured out what I needed to do. First I needed to remove the windshield, which was easily accomplished by removing the screws along its base. Easy enough. Then I needed to remove one screw just inside the base of the windshield, which was now reachable because the windshield was off. Then reach in each of the two pockets in the fairing and take out one screw in each spot. Theoretically the dashboard of the fairing then comes off. In reality, that took some jockeying and trial and error. Plus, I was concerned about getting it back on again. But I managed.

Then it was a simple job to undo the two bolts holding the mirror assembly onto the fairing. And it turned out not to be difficult to put it back together. Could it really be this easy?

No. I now had the new mirror on but it would hardly move. That armature within the accordion boot connecting the mirror to the fairing was supposed to allow the mirror to be moved in and out, up and down, and rotated on its axis. It would not do these things. Now what?

With the old mirror off I could now take it apart and see just how it worked and what had broken. There’s a ball and socket and the socket had been snapped. But you’ll also notice the big nut there holding the two together. I reasoned that if that thing was loosened it would allow the joint to move freely. But how do I get to that nut?

Here’s where logic and common sense come into play. To get inside I had had to first disassemble the mirror housing. There is a deep cup and a thin border piece. I slipped a thin screw driver between the two and popped them apart, then popped the mirror itself out. Now I could remove the bolt that attaches the housing to the armature.

The rubber boot was like a bag with the open end at the mirror side and at the fairing side there were just two holes in the bottom of the bag for the attaching bolts. To get inside I had to come from the mirror side. Peeling back the boot gave me access to the big nut.

This was very good. At first I had thought I might need to take the fairing apart again but when I saw all this it meant I would not need to do that. Phew!

So I loosened that nut a bit and tried flexing the armature. Sure enough, it moved the way it is supposed to. Hooray! Then it was just a matter of reassembling the housing. But that didn’t want to work.

The thin border piece that was supposed to snap onto the deep cup would not hold. Close examination showed that what holds those two pieces together are small tabs on the cup side that a lip on the border side is supposed to slip over. When I had popped the border piece off it apparently had not just slipped over the tabs, it had broken many of them off. Dang.

At this point I was ready to just get it done, so I took some small strips of the Gorilla Tape I had used to temporarily fix the broken mirror and used them to hold the two housing pieces together in strategic spots. Kludgey once again but I can live with it. And now I’ve got two functioning mirrors again.

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.

I dropped the Concours and busted the left mirror when we were in Angel Fire so I’ve been looking to get that fixed.

I checked online and a replacement is available from about $95 to $150, depending on if its new or used and who you buy it from. I wondered if I could get a better price from a salvage yard. Time to check with Steele’s. They have a website and on the site they tell you you can send them a message asking if they have what you need. I tried that but after no reply over a week I just got on the CB750 and rode on over there.

First I checked in at the front desk and the guy checked in their computer to see if they had one listed in there. No. So he told me I could go look around the yard myself. He told me not to just take something off one of the wrecks, but to shoot a photo and come back to them and they’d decide who should do what.

I don’t know if you’ve ever walked around in a motorcycle salvage yard but it’s kind of like a fantasy land. In fact, after I’d looked at what they had out front and didn’t find anything I was about to leave when another employee asked me if I’d checked in. Yes I had, but I didn’t find anything. Oh, there’s more, he said. It goes all the way around the building. “Have fun.” So I went and looked further.

I did find three Concourses but they were all in almost totally stripped-down shape. No mirrors, except on one. And these were not the stock mirrors, they were clearly aftermarket. This suggested to me that busting a mirror was not all that uncommon, and some people opted not to replace with stock.

Around back I found shopping cart after shopping cart filled with assorted side panels. Many years ago I did lose one side panel off my Honda but I found a replacement. Still, it is from a different year so it doesn’t actually match, even though it fits. I figured if I came across the real thing I would at least ask what they wanted for it. No dice. Lots and lots of side panels but not the one I want.

Different parts of the yard were devoted to different things. In one section there were lots and lots of wheels. There were great numbers of stripped frames. And there were all kinds of bikes in all kinds of condition just in pieces everywhere you looked.

There were also the proverbial junkyard dogs, although during business hours I guess these guys are friendly enough. They were rough-housing so hard and so obliviously that twice they crashed right into me as they chased each other around, having a ball.

I didn’t find anything. I’ll have to get something online. But it was worth the run over there.

Biker Quote for Today

Why motorcycles are better than women: If your motorcycle doesn’t look good, you can paint it or get better parts.

I’ll be leaving soon on this year’s OFMC trip and I plan to ride the Concours. So I got a new tire put on the V-Strom.

You have to understand, one of the best things about having more than one motorcycle is that if you’re planning to ride and find at the last minute that the bike you planned on has an issue, you just take a different one. I’ve run into that situation more than once.

Most recently, I was loading my Concours the night before departure on the Great River Road ride and found that the valve stem on the rear tire was totally rotted out. I immediately unloaded and moved everything to the V-Strom. I don’t expect anything like that this time but I wanted to be prepared just in case.

And man was that front tire in need of replacement. It wasn’t down to the cords or anything like that, but ever since I’ve had that bike I’ve run 80-20 Shinko tires that have an 80 percent bias for street riding but a chunkier tread that provides the 20 percent bias toward dirt. The thing is, in reality I don’t get off on the dirt all that much, but this tire doesn’t seem to like the pavement very much so it had a really odd wear pattern.

In fact, the guy at One Up Four Down, where I had the work done, commented on what an odd wear pattern it had, how the cupping was very unusual. Basically, the chunky tread along the outside was still thick but sloped down to almost nothing diagonally at an angle, while the inner portion of the tread was almost down to the DOT lines. Weird.

So I decided OK, I’ll just go with street tires. The guys next door at Let It Ride, where I bought the tire, recommended a Metzeler so that’s what I got.

In the meantime, while the guys were putting the new tire on I looked around at all the bikes they had in the repair shop. In the front of the shop, in an area where I was told the bikes were either ready to be picked up or were waiting for parts to arrive I spotted something very startling: A 1980 Honda CB750 Custom exactly like mine, except looking a lot more shiny and polished than mine.

It seems this bike, though, has an aftermarket exhaust system that has gone to crap and now they’re having a hard time finding something to replace it with. I still have the stock exhaust on mine and it works fine so whoever took theirs off and replaced it might have made a bad decision.

But there it was, looking very pretty and otherwise probably in a lot better condition than mine. I’m glad to see there are still others out there loving this old bike.

Biker Quote for Today

100 reasons not to date a biker: 38. “Am I dating an adult or a 10 year old” you’ll wonder sometimes.

I think I’ve got something figured out here. I have the vague notion that when you have a dealer put a new tire on your bike, they routinely put in a new valve stem. Maybe I’m mistaken, but that’s my notion. Regardless, I’m pretty certain now that Joel, my mechanic, does not. And in the future, any time I have him put on a new tire I will specify that I also want a new valve stem.

I had my first valve stem problem when I was getting ready to leave on the RMMRC‘s Great River Road ride. That necessitated that I take a different bike; not a big deal.

Well now I’ve had a second valve stem problem, and this was a lot bigger pain in the butt.

I’ve been taking some music classes over at Swallow Hill Music and so a couple weeks ago I headed over there on the Honda CB750 Custom, which had yet to be ridden in July. Just a few blocks away I noticed the handling on the bike was not as it should be, and it reminded me of the time when I had a flat back tire on the Concours. I got to Swallow Hill and parked and looked at the rear tire. It was fine. Great. I headed in.

When I came out and returned to the bike it was very obvious that my front tire was flat. Oh, dang. OK, I got here on it, if I can get air in the tire hopefully I can get home on it. I called Judy and asked her to bring my pump, figuring I’d put air in and she could follow me home, stopping if necessary to add more air along the way.

Judy arrived and I hooked the pump up but after way too long the pressure gauge was still showing no increased pressure. I turned it off and was disconnecting it when I heard a hiss at the valve stem. Sure enough, that’s where the problem was. And there was no way this bike was rideable.

I have roadside service through my American Motorcyclist Association membership so I called for a tow. It took a while to get through but I finally reached someone who took all my info and said I would be receiving a text message with the data on the company dispatched and their estimated time of arrival. We knew we had a wait in store.

The first part of the wait was not boring. We were at the corner of Lincoln and Yale, standing by the bike, when we heard tires screeching and a crash. Turning around, there was a Harley on its side, a rider on the ground, and a car stopped, all in the middle of the intersection. Holy crap. I went running to the guy, thinking about my recent crash scene management training.

The guy, an older, very gnarly-looking sort of old school Harley rider, was sitting up and bleeding badly from the left side of his head. The first step in crash scene management is to secure the location, and there were cars stopped in all directions so clearly nobody was going to come driving through and hit someone. The guy asked for a hand up and I hesitated. Another initial point in crash scene management was to do all you can to prevent the person from getting up and riding off, because they may suffer shock and once the adrenaline wears off they may find themselves completely incapable of even standing.

He asked for a hand up and I told him he really ought to just sit there for a few minutes. “F— that” he bellowed and insisted I help him up, which I did. Then he asked me and another guy to help him get the bike up, which we did. I was hoping he just wanted to move it out of the intersection but he climbed on, fired it up and rode away. Meanwhile, we could all see that the lobe of his left ear was almost completely ripped off, hanging by just a slender strip of skin.

Judy’s speculation was that he either had warrants out or else maybe he had been drinking or drugging and either way had no intention of dealing with the police. Who knows. Meanwhile, the young woman driving the car was on the phone with 911. She had not hit him; there had been no contact. I’m not sure what she had been doing, maybe a U-turn in the intersection, definitely not a left turn in front of him. All I got from her was that she was making her turn and he just wouldn’t wait for her to complete it. He must have swerved to avoid her but even that is odd because the bike fell on its right side and he was on the ground on its left. I have no idea what happened. The police were apparently never even dispatched to the scene.

We know this because we were there for another three hours, and they never showed up. After talking to the person I gave the tow request to we were told we would receive text updates and all we got were three messages saying sorry for the delay, we’re still trying to get someone to provide your service. After awhile my phone was going dead and Judy suggested we call again, using her phone, so I did.

Once we got through again I explained the situation and they escalated it to the supervisor and once again we were told we’d be messaged with update info. We finally did get a message, telling us who was coming and that it would probably be an hour and half more. Thank goodness we had Judy’s air conditioned car to sit it because we had no shade and the outside temperature was about 85.

Finally the tow guy showed up and I have to say, he was super nice. We were now late for a birthday party we were supposed to be heading to and he said go ahead to the party, I’ll get the bike safely to your house. Which he did, and then called to tell us he had done so. Nice guy.

So that’s twice now I’ve had valve stem issues. Valve stems are now very much on my radar.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if other people you consider bikers scare you.

This is the second part of a post I started a few days ago. You may want to go read it first.

As we’ve gotten older and more affluent our equipment has gotten better, so some years went by and I started becoming acutely conscious of how when we would stop my buddies would just pull their helmets off and stash them and their jackets in these large top bags they all had come to have on their bikes. I have chain-type locks on all my bikes for my helmet and I always just carried my jacket with me. I was getting jealous.

Then I got my V-Strom. And it came with two of the biggest Givi bags I’ve ever seen. These things are so big, when I travel alone on this bike I don’t ever bother to do any deliberate packing. I just toss it all in and have way more room than I need. At the same time, the bags were not quite so very big that I could easily get my helmet and jacket in along with all the other stuff I carry. I could, but not easily.

The answer was still a top bag and I bought one for the V. I was surprised it was not ungodly expensive, and the color was actually a terrific match for the bike, which I don’t care about a lot but it’s nice. It looks good. Now, once again, as long as I didn’t have a lot of stuff in the top bag I could put my helmet there and put the jacket in a side bag.

I’ve only ever gone down one time when I was moving, and that was at a very slow speed so no injuries. But every one of my bikes has been dropped or fallen over more than once. More than twice. With the V-Strom I’m thinking at least six or seven times.

I’ve concluded that the reason this top bag cost what it did was that it was not ruggedly built. After the bike had fallen a few times with the top bag on, the top bag was looking like it might not stay on much longer. It is mounted on a rail system and there were four bolts. The bolts were set into the plastic underside of the bag and two of them are no longer there. Cheap work. Now I flip a bungee over the bag just to add a bit of stability. But I often forget and leave it hanging there, although it’s attached at both ends and there is no end flapping free. I still have some concern about how if that bungee fell off it might get entangled in the chain or the wheel. Some day I’m just going to need to get a better top bag for this bike.

In the meantime, thanks to getting dropped, the Givi bags no longer make as good a seal so some small amount of water can get in. Plus, the bags mount onto pegs on a rail and one of the pegs broke off.

And now the ultimate of ultimates. I’ve had a very good (I think and hope) top bag put on the Concours. This bag is large–no problem throwing the jacket and helmet in. One thing I know for sure is that the mounting is good. I haven’t dropped this bike in a long, long time–and I really don’t want to–but I suspect the bag would hold up a lot better than the one on the V-Strom.

I had expected to get my second opportunity to put this bag through the paces on this 10-day Great River Road trip. That was not to be. On the day before we were to leave I was packing and doing stuff like checking tire pressure, and when I went to put air in the rear tire I discovered the valve stem is rotted through and leaks profusely. There was no way I could take this bike; I’m surprised the tire wasn’t flat. So I shifted everything over to the V-Strom and that’s my bike for this trip. I guess I’ll have to discover the flaws of this new top bag on the Concours some other time.

Biker Quote for Today

If I actually did “ride it like I stole it” I’d be in jail.

I’m probably like most long-time motorcycle riders in that starting out my means of carrying things with me on the bike was kludgy at best. As soon as I bought the CB750 I bought a sissy bar with a rack behind and a pouch to stash stuff in. For years I just bunged stuff on.

Then I discovered cargo nets and thought that was beyond great. I soon learned differently. I lost a good atlas one day down by Taos when I stuffed it between the net and the rest of the stuff. I almost lost a sleeping bag, too. And I found that cargo nets, much more so than bungee cords, quickly stretch out and then never stretch back.

For a few of the early OFMC trips I just bungeed my sleeping bag to the seat behind me and strapped my tent and a gym bag of clothes on the rack behind the sissy bar. That worked and it gave me something to lean my back against. It didn’t do anything to block rain, however, so I took to putting these things in plastic bags before strapping them on. Of course then there was the constant flapping of the loose bits of bag it was impossible to completely prevent.

Eventually I found the ultimate, a set of soft sidebags that I could just throw over the bike behind me. But I didn’t feel totally secure with those. Although I could put one velcro strap under the seat to make it harder, nothing would have really stopped anyone either from taking the whole shebang or just opening them and helping themselves. I didn’t worry too much about that, and I never had any reason to as nothing has ever been stolen, but there was still always that feeling of unease in the back of my mind.

Then I got my Concours. This bike had it all. Hard bags standard, and large. And it really did do the job wonderfully. But man, unloading was not wonderful. Unlock both bags from the bike and carry them into the motel, then the helmet, jacket, tank bag, everything else. I became a big fan of those luggage carts hotels have. But it’s OK.

Until it wasn’t quite OK. We were pulling out of a parking lot in Jackson one day, backing out, and I wasn’t watching closely enough. Randy stopped and I rolled back into him. All that hit was my right side bag against his tire, so nothing at all with his bike, but this shoved my bag and the clasp that holds it to the bike all askew and it has never been the same again. More than once I have discovered that the bag is off the rail entirely, floating out over the road held on by only the clasp. That thing must be strong.

So now I wrap a strap around it and through the passenger grab handle. But that makes it a lot more inconvenient for getting into the bag. Plus I lost my first strap coming out of Canada four years ago when we stopped just past customs to get everything arranged properly. And I forgot to reconnect the strap. It occurs to me that, as it worked its way off, if it had gotten wrapped around the axle or through the wheel things might have gone badly.

OK, this has run long and I’m only about half way through so I’m going to stop here and finish this piece in my next post. Sometimes you get started and you just keep going.

Biker Quote for Today

Sorry, out to live. Be back “soon.”