Passes & Canyons Blog

When you have a group of bikers out on a road trip you end up with some group shots.

Do you ever just really want to get away from the guys you’re hanging out with? Like your riding buddies? Like you’ve been on a trip and while you love the trip you’re really looking forward to getting home so you won’t have to be with these guys for awhile?

I keep a journal and I’ve been reading back through it and there have been a number of times when I have remarked that I was really sick of being with the guys. Now, these are my best and closest friends–excluding my very closest friend, my wife–here in town. (I do have really close friends in other towns.) These are the guys I go camping with, play poker with, meet out for coffee. And after a week on the road with them I’m really sick of them.

Here are some remarks from my journal, circa 1992:

So I got really tired of being with XXXX but it wasn’t like last year when I came home with an active dislike for him. Our relationship really is shallow, to the point where we ran out of things to talk about and sat around bars at night not saying a word. This was a good trip but clearly I would rather have been on one bike with a lady friend.

Wow. Yeah, I guess just because you hang out with someone for a lot of years that doesn’t necessarily mean you are close to them. Doesn’t mean they’re not your friends. They are.

My good friend Jungle told me emphatically a few years ago that I need to get some new friends. But that’s the thing. When it’s these guys who you discovered the wonderfulness of motorcycles with, and they like to ride, you kind of go with the guys who like to ride.

Anyway, I know just from memory–I haven’t gotten that far reading my journal–that on most OFMC trips by the time I got home I was really glad to get away from the others. I always presumed they were equally glad to get away from me. It’s a test of any relationship to be together that much. In the early days we always, the three of us, shared one motel room. We were together all day, and all night.

So it was the desire to find some new riding buddies, people interested in riding more often, that led me to join the RMMRC. I do feel like I’m making friends in this group and like I’m a core member of the group. It’s good to have riding buddies. And maybe in 20 years I won’t personally be any closer to any of these new friends than to my old ones, but I will have been on a whole bunch of really good rides. With people I enjoy being with.

Biker Quote for Today

It’s a dangerous game we’re playing here. Walking the tightrope between nirvana and disaster, with no margin for error. But that’s when things really start to get interesting.

At another needed stop in Glenwood Canyon on my way home.

Riding with friends has a lot going for it, not the least being that if you have a problem you have someone to help you out. And I’ve done plenty of riding with friends. But I’ve got to tell you, I really love riding alone. I just love the ability to ride at your own pace, stop when you want, where you want, and change your plans on a whim. (I wonder where this road goes . . . )

This recent RMMRC California trip was a case in point. I started out with five other guys but then got sick. I peeled off from the group on day three, spent that day being sick in my motel room, and then started home alone the next day.

The two days with the group were fine but there were all sorts of compromises to be made. For instance, I’m more of a sedate rider. I like to take it easy. If I’m on the interstate–which we were that first day–I don’t need to go 80. But we did, and I did. No big deal; just not my preference.

So after my sick day I was alone. The first stretch of road I would cover was Utah 72, just 35 miles to I-70. What a sweet road! It started out meandering up through a valley filled with farms and ranches. Everything was green with spring and it was just so pleasant. I was in no hurry, and there was no other traffic so I could go at whatever speed suited me.

The road climbed out of the valley and followed the ridge line northeast into another higher valley, this time only open range and no farms. Then up a good bit more. This area is known as the San Rafael Swell region and it’s beautiful. Why would I want to hurry through this? I didn’t.

Now I was really climbing and it was getting cold. I found myself at the top of Hogan Pass, at just a hair under 9,000 feet, and the view was spectacular. But how many times have I been with a group and rather than stop and enjoy the view we have just blasted on through? Many, many times I can assure you. Not when I’m riding alone though.

After the pass it was all downhill, through more hills and ridges. And then the interstate. Cruising along it wasn’t particularly pleasant. The wind was whipping and I was starting to not feel so great. I knew about a rest area up ahead, however, that I figured would be a nice stop. Once again, with a group you don’t want to make everyone conform to your wishes but on my own I could do anything I wanted–or needed–to do. I stopped. I found a nice smooth boulder and lay down and closed my eyes. After 20 minutes of soaking up the warmth of the sun I was ready to go on.

The rest of my trip home was like this. I left when I was ready. I stopped when I needed to, or wanted to. I ate when and where I wanted.

Motorcyclists always talk about the freedom of being on a bike. But I don’t see it. Not unless you’re riding alone. Back in my old Examiner.com days I did a couple pieces about the Ride For The Wall, an event of mostly military vets remembering MIAs and POWs. I didn’t see any freedom going on there. That was all strictly regimented the way only vets can be. Heck, I got screamed at for trying to enter a gas station differently than their whole group was being channeled and I was not a member of their group.

I’ve also heard a lot about the 1%er clubs and how they have and enforce strict rules about group riding. And I’m not referring to riding in staggered formation. I strongly agree with that concept. That’s just common sense.

So yeah, I like riding with a group at times. But what I really love the most is when I just head out on my own. That’s freedom.

Biker Quote for Today

If you drive a car you’re responsible for your car. If you ride a motorcycle you are responsible for every car around you.

Getting sick on a motorcycle trip is the worst.

There’s not much that puts more of a crimp in a vacation than getting sick. That was certainly the case with me on this recent aborted (for me) RMMRC California ride.

Getting sick on a motorcycle trip has got to be worse than so many other forms of travel. If you’re in a car with a couple other people you can just crash in the back seat and be miserable. Or if you’re on an airplane you can just be miserable while you fly. There’s nothing expected of you. Heck, I got sick on an airplane once and passed out. That would be a disaster on a motorcycle. You could die.

On a motorcycle you are the sole party responsible for operating the vehicle and if, for example, you get nauseous out in the middle of nowhere good luck getting stopped in time so you don’t puke in your helmet. And then you’re sick but you can’t exactly just choose to stay where you are–you have to get to somewhere.

So right from the start of this trip I was not feeling great but managed to keep going. It was only the morning of the third day when it hit me hard and I had to go back to the motel. Being sick away from home and all alone is nobody’s idea of fun. But I really want to give credit to the managers of the Snuggle Inn in Loa, Utah, for being as hospitable as anyone could possibly be. They offered me their car to drive to a nearby clinic and even offered to drive me there if need be, plus they were very solicitous of me and my needs every time I ventured out of my room. That mattered a lot! I will always be thankful to them for all they did.

Of course, terminating a trip in the middle of the trip has its own issues. I had to cancel all my motel reservations for the remainder of the trip or else I would have been charged for them. As for the motel for the third night, I just had to eat that because it was too late to cancel. But for the rest I got on the phone and made a bunch of calls.

All went well there except for one place. I reached someone at the desk and told the guy what I wanted to do and he asked me to call back after 3 p.m. because their computer was down at the moment. So after three I called and all I got was a recording saying they were not able to answer the phone now and no, you cannot leave a message. Call back later. I called back several times and got the same recording.

This reservation was not for several days yet so there was no rush, but once I got home a couple days later it was drawing much nearer so I called again. This time I got a fellow who sounded like the same guy I originally talked to but this time he told me I would need to cancel my reservation through Expedia. I’ve encountered this before and as has been the case before I explained to him that I did not book my stay through Expedia, I booked it directly through the desk by phone.

He said I should call Comfort Inn corporate or something and I said why should I do that? Why can’t you do it right now? He said call back at 2:30. I was angry. I shouted at him asking why I should call back at 2:30 when I had him on the phone right now?!! He canceled it. Jerk. He sounded Pakistani or something and I just suspect his rating and/or pay is tied to how much cash he brings in and a cancellation means less cash coming in, so he tries to foist the cancellation off on some other poor soul. Who gives a damn about the customer?

So yeah, being sick on the road is a bummer in more ways than one. But when it happens you just have to deal with it the best you can. I hope I don’t have to deal with that again any time soon.

Biker Quote for Today

“I saw Jesus so many times I started using him as a braking marker.” – Kenny Roberts

A group of bikes enters Yellowstone National Park.

We’ve all faced this situation I’m sure: When you’re riding with a group, what extremes do you really need to go to to keep the group together?

In the few days I was with the RMMRC California trip group I had several opportunities to consider this question.

I, for one, am of the school that it really doesn’t matter all that much. If everyone knows where you’re going to wind up at the end of the day what does it matter if someone separates or gets separated from the group? Of course, that assumes the separation is voluntary: you don’t want to lose sight of someone behind you and keep going, only to find out later that they had mechanical trouble and could have used your assistance. I have been that guy who got left behind and I did not appreciate it.

In the old days it was a different story. Before cell phones. Back then, getting separated could be a real problem. But that day is long gone.

But I’m really not even talking about that kind of separation. What I’m talking about here is keeping all bikes in one group with no other vehicles in between. That means passing, for instance. If you have six bikes–which we did–and you go to pass someone it is not a surprise when one or more bikes are not able to get around immediately. Does it really matter? I think not but I’ve seen people make risky passes just to stay with the guy ahead. Why? Why not wait until it’s really safe and then pass?

The flip side of that is the guy in the lead. If you’re going to pass someone, don’t get by, pull in, and then ride sedately. You need to maintain some speed so that you open up space for the guy behind you to pull in ahead of the car you just passed. And then for the guy after him and the guy after him. On this trip I saw both of these things happening.

And yes, sometimes the leader passes but cannot keep putting distance between themselves and the car they passed because there is another car in front of them now. That should be visible to the guy behind and he should respond accordingly. But I didn’t think that was much at issue on this trip. Maybe it was and I just didn’t notice.

Bottom line is, don’t do risky stuff just to keep the bikes together. Problem is, some people seem to do exactly that.

Biker Quote for Today

I ride motorcycles because punching people is frowned upon.

My Cardo mounted on my helmet.

It seems to be a general rule that connecting helmet communicators is not easy. Judy and I have owned a couple sets and neither has been something you just do and that’s that. It’s always a matter of relearning how it’s done and then making more than one attempt to do so until you get it right.

In preparation for this recent RMMRC California trip I bought a new communicator, a Cardo, because that’s what all the other guys had and that would enable me to hook in with the group. It was agreed that on departure date we would get together earlier to get me paired in. What could go wrong?

In a group like this someone needs to be the main guy and the main guy here was Alan. Everyone else already was hooked in.

So Alan pulled out his phone, fired up the app, and opened the group. I installed the app on my phone–though that is not supposed to be necessary–and we tried following the steps as spelled out. No dice. We tried again. I shut my phone completely off and then booted up, with hopes that now everything would be fully settled and in order. Still no dice.

Was it a problem with my communicator? It was brand new and had never been used. They do manufacture lemons now and then, where something doesn’t work right out of the box. I tried creating a group myself and paired one of the guys in with me. That worked. So it’s not a problem with my unit.

I can’t remember what else we tried but nothing worked. Fine, we’ll give up for now and then tonight at the motel in Fruita we’ll try again.

So we got to Fruita and we’re sitting around in our rooms with our helmets on. Surely between the bunch of us we can figure this out. The Cardo can link together up to–I think–19 units. We were only trying to get 5 on one link.

Insanity is reputedly doing the same thing over and over expecting different results and we did the insanity thing for a while. There was no way, apparently, that I was ever going to get linked in to this group. OK, let’s take a different approach. Alan, create a new group and then link us all in on that group. Delete the old one.

And you know what? It worked. Finally. It still wasn’t necessarily working great until we figured out that I needed to move my microphone boom closer to my mouth. Once I did that they could hear me and I could hear them. Great. We’re ready to go.

So the next day we took off and now my concern was, was I going to find myself feeling invaded by hearing everything everyone had to say all day? I’m used to the solitude of being in my own head even when in a group of riders. Would I miss that solitude. Sure I could turn the Cardo off but that would defeat the whole purpose of having it.

It was OK. I even did a bit of the talking because I had been all these places we were going through this day and I had information to share.

Then the following morning the Cardo came in handy, too, as I sprawled across my gas tank telling the guys “I can’t do this. I’m really sick.” Dave replied that “Yeah, if it makes you feel any better, you look lousy, too.”

I just hope next time I try to use this thing it goes a lot more smoothly.

Biker Quote for Today

Faster . . . sixty, seventy . . . the engine growls, and the wind is now howling in my face trying to rip me off the back of the bike. But to outrun the demons I keep pushing it into fifth . . . seventy-five, eighty-five, ninety . . . and now I’ve got a white-knuckled grip on the handlebars as they vibrate up my arms and I tuck my head down for speed.

On the road to California.

Colorado has a newly instituted law prohibiting hands-on use of a cellphone while driving and from all accounts it is doing some good. Distracted driving is of great importance to motorcyclists because we know far too well how easy it is not to see us even when you’re not distracted.

Well guess what. That’s just as true on a motorcycle as in a car. Case in point:

On this recent (aborted for me due to sickness) RMMRC California trip we immediately got separated from one guy. Alan, who was leading, pulled off at Idaho Springs to try to find out where he was. He called and found he was in Evergreen so we just agreed to meet up at lunch in Eagle.

In order to make this call, Alan pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant and we all followed him. I tend to be fairly conscientious and so as not to take up a lot of parking spaces in this small parking lot I pulled into the same slot as Alan, a bit behind him.

Alan got on the phone and made his call and got the matter settled. At this point he was in communication with the other guys because we all had Cardo communicators but we had been unsuccessful earlier in trying to get me paired into the group. So I was not connected.

Well, Alan was so involved in making his call and then talking to the other guys that he apparently had not noticed that I was behind him. So we’re ready to roll again and I started to roll back but Alan came rolling back faster than me and though I scrambled to get out of his way he backed right into me. Down I went.

Now, there was no damage and I was not hurt but my point is, he was busy on his phone–his communicator in this case–and not paying attention to his driving. What if instead of me on my bike, there had been some person walking to the restaurant behind him? That person could easily have been hurt. Or heck, I could have been hurt. I wasn’t, but I could have been. Clearly he wasn’t looking very carefully where he was going.

So yeah, hang up and drive. Or maybe just look where you’re going. It applies on a motorcycle as well as in a car.

Biker Quote for Today

As long as you are on planet Earth, you’re not lost.

In Utah on the second day of the ride.

When you start riding with a new bunch of guys it is incumbent on you to become acquainted with the ways of the group. For instance, the RMMRC is very focused on safe riding and thus, if you wish to ride with this group you need to wear a helmet and don’t plan to make any stops that include drinking.

Another thing the RMMRC is pretty serious about is that a time is set for kickstands up (KSU) and when that time comes you are expected to be geared up, on your bike, and ready to roll. On a day ride, if KSU is at 9 a.m. and you arrive at 9:05 you will probably arrive to find an empty parking lot.

On longer rides, however, such as this recent California trip, if you are signed up to come and you’re not there we’ll generally wait for you, but a late arrival will not be appreciated at all unless you have a really good reason.

So it was that KSU was set for 10 a.m. on this trip and the rest of us were ready at 10 a.m. but one guy–I won’t name names but will refer to him as HE–was not there. Alan called him and HE was at Hampden and University, which was still 20 minutes away from where we were. Not a good way to start off.

So we waited and HE finally showed up. But HE needed gas. Fine. We waited. When HE was done at the pump we hit our starter buttons but HE pulled over behind me, parked, and got off his bike, and started wandering around. That was too much, so we pulled away from our parking places and lined up ready to pull onto the road. HE was digging through one of his bags. We left. Later when we stopped in Idaho Springs, Alan called him again and HE was in Evergreen. Fine. We’ll see you in Eagle.

We regrouped in Eagle and rode on to Fruita, our stop for the night. We all gathered for dinner but HE did not join us. Your choice, but not particularly social. Nor did HE join us for breakfast but at least HE was there ready to go at the appointed hour the next morning.

HE did not join us for dinner in Loa, either, that night, and while HE did not have breakfast with the group the next morning, HE was there at the spot for KSU. Except as we all sat astride our bikes ready to roll, HE announced that he needed to go get gas. And off HE went.

This was when sickness engulfed me and I had to tell the guys to go on without me. The last thing I heard on my Cardo as I rode back to the motel was Dave telling the others that “I’m going to the gas station and glare at him while he gets gas.”

OK, he’s new to the group. If I had stayed with the group I’m sure I would have had a word with him about the significance of KSU. And perhaps Dave did later. Dave’s the sort of guy who would make a point to have that talk, perhaps in sterner terms than I might use.

But you owe it to yourself and to the others to learn the ways of the group if you want to fit in. And really, making everyone else wait is never a courteous thing to do in any circumstance. Just practice common courtesy, OK? What’s so hard about that?

Biker Quote for Today

As I turn off the pavement and onto the long stretch of dirt ahead, the rear tire spins and kicks up rocks through first and second gear. I click it into third, and that’s when she really opens up to breathe.

At a rest stop along I-70 in Utah.

I spent a day sick in bed in Loa, Utah, while the other RMMRC guys continued on their California trip. By the next day I felt able to ride so I planned to turn back eastward, to Grand Junction, where my brother lives. I hoped I wouldn’t start out and then 50 miles along start feeling just as sick as I did just before we were set to roll the day before. But if I did I figured I’d just struggle my way to Green River and get a motel there.

From Loa I needed to take Utah 72 to I-70 and then go east on I-70. I had no idea what to expect on 72 but it was a lovely, somewhat cool, morning and a nice day to ride. Plus, this little two-lane was so unbusy that I think I saw three cars the whole time I was on it.

The road wandered through several small farming/ranching towns, through some very nice valleys, and then started climbing, but not a lot. At least it didn’t seem like we were climbing a lot. Already cool, it got cooler and with some alarm I wondered if my electric vest was starting to die. I’ve had it for a long time; nothing lasts forever. Then I came to a sign announcing the summit of Hogan Pass, at just a few feet under 9,000. Wow, no wonder I was cold.

They have several vista points on top of Hogan Pass and the vista is worth the stops. This is just beautiful country. And from here it was downhill all the way.

I ran on a ways and then very abruptly found myself at I-70, running parallel to the highway until we reached an interchange. Then it was I-70 to Green River. The wind was blowing pretty hard, promising a less than pleasant ride.

I stopped at a rest area before Green River because I was feeling a little rocky but 20 minutes of lying in the sun on a nice smooth rock helped me feel better. In Green River I ordered a bowl of soup in a restaurant but couldn’t get it down. I did drink a glass of milk, and then I lay on their lawn another while till I was again feeling good enough to ride. After that I made it all the way to my brother’s.

In fact, I was feeling pretty good when I got to Fruita, where I needed to leave the slab to take the more direct back road to my brother’s house. I considered going on as far as Eagle to where my friends Willie and Jungle live but decided while I might feel good now, another two hours on the road might not leave me feeling good at all. Let’s just take the wins when you’ve got them.

And yeah, even hanging there at Rick’s, by the time two hours had passed I was not feeling good at all. Wise choice.

Feeling reasonably good the next day I came on home. The ride across the mountains on I-70 was uneventful with really nothing to report. And there I was at home 5 days after leaving on what was to have been a 15-day trip. But man was I glad to be home and it was another 4 days before I felt halfway decent again.

Biker Quote for Today

It’s a beautiful world. Get out there and discover it.