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

After our stupid joke Bill and I bought a round for the group in a bar in Medicine Bow.

If you ride in a group it’s the generally accepted practice that you are responsible for making sure the guy behind you is still there. And if he’s not you slow down to let him catch up, and if he still doesn’t show maybe you stop and wait. And if he still doesn’t show you go back.

My friend Jungle always says that if you stop you should wait five minutes before going back. If the guy behind is OK, five minutes won’t matter. If he’s dead it won’t matter either.

Now, that’s not to say that the OFMC has always followed this rule. I was heading west on I-70 behind Brett and Randy one time when I had a flat just east of Rifle. I pulled over but I couldn’t get off the bike because the road sloped away and if I put out my kickstand the bike was going to fall to the right. Fine, I’ll just wait here until they come back for me.

Well, they didn’t. After awhile I started waving at any bikers passing on the highway, hoping someone would stop to give me a hand. Several did pass, and seemed like they wanted to stop, but they were going fast and by the time they could have stopped they would have been a quarter mile down the road. But finally a couple did stop, and they started hoofing it back to where I was.

Just at that time a guy in a pick-up came along and he stopped. Do you need help? You bet I do. He helped me hoist the bike up onto the center stand, which is amazingly hard to do when you have a flat tire–not sure why. So by the time the biker couple got there all I could say was thanks a whole lot but I don’t need you any more. But thank you so much.

It turns out that Brett and Randy noticed I was not behind them so they pulled off at Rifle. But the exit goes downhill, to where you can’t see the vehicles passing by above on the highway. After sitting there a few minutes they decided I must have just gone on past them on the highway so they took off again. Wrong. Once I was finally able to rejoin the whole group the next day neither of them said one word, like “Oops” or “Sorry” or anything. Jungle told me, “You need new friends.”

Which brings me back to Bill and Ken’s really bad practical joke.

We were up in Wyoming one time coming down a highway in the middle of nowhere, me riding sweep and Bill just in front of me. We got to a fork and I don’t know how we knew this but we knew that if we took the fork to the right it would rejoin this same road a little further along. The other guys were going to the left. Presumably, considering when this was, Bill must have pulled over at the fork and when I pulled up next to him he suggested that we take this other road and ride fast and be waiting for them up ahead. A fun surprise.

So we peeled off and we got to where the roads rejoined and we sat and waited. And waited. And waited. Oops, you don’t suppose they noticed we weren’t there and are looking for us? Bill headed back on the road they were coming on while I sat at the intersection in case someone came the other way. And of course that’s what it was. They were looking all over for us, riding back the way we had all come and getting very concerned.

Considering how unorganized we were back then, the ploy might have worked except that just a quarter mile past the fork there was a rest area and the group pulled off. It was not hard to realize we were not there. Where are those guys? When did you see them last? They found out when Bill got all the way back to that spot.

They were not happy. They wouldn’t let us live that one down for a long time. What in the world made us think this would be a clever trick?

I do think that after my flat by Rifle everyone in the group really came to understand that you are responsible for keeping an eye on the guy behind you, so we’re not unteachable.

Biker Quote for Today

100 reasons not to date a biker: 20. We smell like leather and gasoline.

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.

Our first time playing golf on the OFMC trip. And that’s the bridge over the Snake River Canyon in the background.

In the early days of the OFMC we didn’t plan our trips. We’d basically get together at someone’s house and ask “Where do you want to go?” And then we’d head off in whatever direction.

Of course this led to some problems sometimes. Like when we figured to spend the night in Laramie and found when we got there that because Frontier Days was in full swing over in Cheyenne, all the motels in Laramie were completely booked. But this was back in the days when we carried camping gear so we just went to the local KOA and spent the night there. Another time we got to Pinedale, Wyoming, to find that Pioneer Days was going on. In that case we got lucky and found the last available motel room in town.

This sort of thing doesn’t happen any more because we plan ahead and make reservations well in advance.

Then there are the times when we would decide in the morning to head somewhere and something would come along to make us think, forget that, let’s spend some time here. An example of that was the first time we stayed in Jackpot, Nevada, and heading north from there the next day we were headed somewhere. That changed when we came to Twin Falls, Idaho, and found ourselves crossing the Snake River on a high bridge. To our amazement, way below on the canyon floor was a golf course. A really beautiful looking golf course. Oh my gosh, we have to check this out.

So we crossed back over and found the road to the bottom of the canyon and walked in the pro shop. Would it be possible to get a tee time yet today? Yes it would. Oh my gosh, let’s go find a motel and stash our stuff and come back and play a round. Which is what we did, having traveled all of about 35 miles that day. And ever since that stop we have made it a point to spend two days somewhere along the way with a day off from riding to play golf.

Another time we had been in Deadwood, South Dakota, and were heading in the direction of the Bighorn Mountains when we came through the town of Hulett, which is right near Devil’s Tower. There was something about this little town that captured our hearts and so after riding only 67 miles we checked into a motel we spotted and spent the day in Hulett.

The first time this kind of thing happened, though, was on a trip where Bill had problems and could not join us so it was only John and me. We made a stop in Salt Lake City to visit our friend Christopher and found ourselves in heaven. Christopher was living with his brother Wesley in a little house with a deeply shaded backyard and we discovered for the first time the secret the original inhabitants of this region of the country learned many centuries ago: If you have cooling shade and free air movement it can be blazing hot and you will be as comfortable as you could ever imagine.

It was utterly delightful. We bathed in the freshness, the exquisite luxury of a totally peaceful situation, and we had absolutely no choice but to stay a second night. That next day was just as heavenly so we stuck around but did decide later in the day to load Christopher on John’s bike and blast the super-straight road west over the Salt Flats to Wendover to do some gambling. After giving Nevada the cash we figured we could afford we blasted back across the flats in the dark cool of the night and spent some more delicious time in Christopher and Wesley’s backyard before turning in for the night. The next day we did finally leave.

And then on another trip the same thing happened twice in a row. We came to Taos and found a super sweet motel where we had a large cottage with patio and grill and lots of shade. We liked it enough to stay two nights. From there we headed back into Colorado, and passing through Cuchara we saw a very inviting golf course and went back into Cuchara and found a room so we could golf the next day.

This kind of thing just doesn’t happen when you have your trip totally planned out in advance and reservations are made. Which is to say, this sort of thing hasn’t happened with the OFMC in quite a few years. But that’s one reason I like traveling alone. I never make reservations when I’m traveling alone and I do still carry camping gear. So I go where and when I want to go, and stop where and when I want to stop. That is freedom.

Biker Quote for Today

In my helmet, dreams are stored, and riding releases them into the wind.

Bill shot this to document our deluxe accommodations in Fort Garland.

This 2024 OFMC trip was planned as a Colorado adventure tour so for the most part we stayed in-state. However, on this day when we were running from Ignacio to Fort Garland there were two routes of about the same distance and one of those promised a lot less traffic.

By either route we would need to leave Ignacio on CO 151 headed east, past Chimney Rock National Monument where we stopped the day before, and get on US 160 headed east to Pagosa Springs. From Pagosa we could have just stayed on US 160 all the way in to Fort Garland, going over Wolf Creek Pass along the way, but that’s a very busy highway with a lot of trucks and not very appealing. Besides, we’ve been over Wolf Creek any number of times.

The alternate route was to go south from Pagosa on US 84, down into New Mexico, where we would turn east on US 64, over to Chama. Then from Chama we could take NM/CO 17 northeast over Cumbres and La Manga Passes to Antonito. We’d pick up US 285 at Antonito, up to Alamosa, where we we rejoin US 160 the short distance east to Fort Garland. With roughly the same distances it was really a no-brainer.

The same road looks different going the other direction so it was no hardship leaving Ignacio and cruising back along CO 151 up to US 160. Then the run east to Pagosa was again just beautiful. It really does seem the whole state is greener late in the season this year than it typically is and on a beautiful day you just can’t ask for better. We gassed up in Pagosa and headed south and found northern New Mexico just as green. What a sweet ride.

It was going to be an early lunch but we figured Chama made the most sense for eating so we pulled in there and parked. As nice a little town as Chama is, it really seems to be going downhill. We found our food options very limited–more so than I recall from previous visits–and we decided instead just to try to find some ice cream.

Now, Chama is home to the southern end of the Cumbres and Toltec Scenic Railroad and draws a lot of tourists to the train. Where you find hordes of tourists you generally find ice cream parlors. Not obviously the case in Chama. But what is not obvious is nevertheless true in some cases.

What we found was a Subway that was split into two sections, one for sandwiches and the other for ice cream. There was no one manning the ice cream side till we asked and then, while the ice cream was good, it had some ice crystals in it, suggesting that they don’t go through the tubs very quickly. I really think if they put a big, highly visible sign out by the road reading “Ice Cream!” they could double their business.

From Chama we headed north. The OFMC has ridden Cumbres and La Manga Passes a few times but not a lot. The last time we did it going north we ran into a herd of cattle being moved to a new pasture. When the cowboys showed no inclination to help create a path through the herd a car started honking and edging through. We followed suit, with the Harley boys revving their engines loudly to convince the steaks on legs to get out of the way. A memorable ride.

This time there were no herds, and it was smooth sailing, and the thing that struck me was how unfamiliar this route seemed, even though I know I’ve been over it multiple times before. But once again, really pretty.

We got into Antonito and if we thought Chama was a food desert, well Antonito was the Sahara. So we pushed on to Alamosa but at that point we were only a few miles from Fort Garland so we just made that turn and cruised on. We’d just have an early dinner.

There’s not much in Fort Garland but there are a few restaurants and at least one of them is pretty good. The Mountain View Diner has no A/C and the fans were not nearly enough on this hot day but the food was actually quite good. And thus our day came to a close. Home tomorrow.

Biker Quote for Today

Why motorcycles are better than women: Unlike women, motorcycles don’t whine unless something is really wrong.

You can see some of the work that has been done at this new national monument so far.

Leaving Durango on this year’s OFMC trip we had originally planned to ride down to Mesa Verde National Park where we were to spend the night at the Far View Lodge, the very cool old lodge inside the park. It was a treat I was looking forward to but Bill had announced he would not be going there with us and we ended up cutting that night out and moving everything else up.

That left us leaving Durango with the day’s destination of . . . Ignacio. Eighteen miles away. OK, let’s see what we can figure out here.

Because this whole trip was planned as a tourist trip, with us stopping at attractions and doing things that tourists do and that we generally haven’t, we had on our plan for the day leaving Ignacio to make a stop at Chimney Rock National Monument. I suggested that we head east on US 160, then turn back west at CO 151, which runs right by the monument before leading us directly on to Ignacio. Make it about a 100-mile day. The guys thought that sounded good.

The ride out US 160 was very nice as the entire state seems to have stayed green much later in the summer this year than usual. Really, really beautiful. We made the turn and were soon at Chimney Rock.

Chimney Rock National Monument is one of the newest national monuments in the country. It’s new enough that other times we have been past it it has not even been open yet to the public. Now it is but there’s still not a lot to it in terms of infrastructure.

First off we had to go in on a gravel road, and everyone knows how Bill feels about riding on gravel. He wasn’t thrilled but it was only a quarter mile. We got to the visitor center area and it is in such an early phase that the ranger did not have an actual visitor center, he was sitting there under an open tent talking to people and handing out literature. Besides restrooms the only structure was one building that was split with one half being a museum and the other half a gift shop.

It’s a good museum, though, and I found out a whole lot I had not known about the place. I’ve seen the rocks that give the place its name many times passing by and had assumed the monument was all about the rocks. And I thought making it a national monument for the rocks was a bit of a stretch.

In fact, it’s an archaeological site and up on the mesa above there are pueblos that are pretty well preserved. With the gravel road we were not going to ride up to the pueblos, plus it was a pretty hot day and we were in the middle of the heat. The ranger said they do have a shuttle going up for those who don’t want to drive but we passed. I’ll do that some other time when I’m out that way with Judy. Bill seemed positively disinterested and I didn’t know how Dennis felt about it.

So we saw what there was to see and then headed on to Ignacio. Even after our detour it was far too early to check into our rooms at the Sky Ute Casino Resort but they have a very good restaurant where we had lunch and then there was the gambling. This was one place where arriving early was not an inconvenience.

Biker Quote for Today

With the throttle’s roar, I ignite the adventure on the road.

Bill gets some pix on top of Cottonwood Pass.

We headed out of Buena Vista at a reasonable hour headed up over Cottonwood Pass. It wasn’t as cold as the day before but once again, late July or not, I was darn glad to have my electric vest on. Since they finally paved the other side of this pass it has become a very popular route for a lot of people but the crowd wasn’t too thick.

Heading down, though, we had options and I thought I had gotten it all worked out. Once we got past Gunnison we had the issue of a bridge across the Blue Mesa Reservoir being out of service . . . or not. There were two possible detours. One was to get to Almont coming down off Cottonwood Pass and turning north to Crested Butte and taking the unpaved Kebler Pass. They use a lot of magnesium chloride on that road so it’s really hard-packed, like really rough pavement. I’ve been over it and it’s not bad.

The other is to head out of Gunnison and take the road at the east end of the reservoir south toward Lake City and then, before coming to Lake City, take the Lake City Cutoff, which goes down to US 50 on the far side of the bridge. But the cutoff is not paved either.

The third alternative was that I thought I had found information saying that the bridge was actually open just one lane at a time for light traffic, such as motorcycles and passenger cars. We headed for the bridge.

At the turn-off to head for Lake City the road straight ahead had a sign that said it was closed. Not a good sign. We went past it. You could still go in because there were campgrounds and fishing areas you could get to on this side of the bridge. But we kept seeing signs saying the road ahead was closed. Not a good sign at all. We kept going.

Sure enough, we came to where the road really was closed. There was a guy there telling people what their alternatives were and he told us we should hurry back and take the Lake City road and then the cutoff. He said the cutoff opened for westbound traffic at 12:30 p.m. and if we didn’t make it there in time we would have to wait two hours for the next opening. We didn’t have much time so we hustled.

Until we got behind a couple really slow, large vehicles. Dang! Well, we got there in time and didn’t even have to stop, they just waved us on through. And then it was 15 miles of rough gravel. I was on my V-Strom so for me it was no issue. Dennis didn’t like it on his BMW but he just figured it had to be. Bill, on his Harley, absolutely hated it. He said later if he’d known what it was going to be he would have turned around and gone home or something. Anything but that 15 miles of gravel. He was not a happy camper.

I had actually been surprised they had gone for it. When I told them what the guy at the blockade had told me I was not expecting Dennis to just say simply, “Let’s do it.” But he did. He and Bill hate gravel. And Bill just followed us. Bill prefers to just follow. This time he wasn’t so glad he had done so.

The way I looked at it, this was supposed to be a Colorado adventure tour, where we stop for all the tourist attractions we typically just ride right past. Our first day was doing a hot springs. Our second day was zip-lining. Now our third day was getting off the pavement into the backcountry. Kinda.

One way or another we made it to Montrose, our stop for the night.

Biker Quote for today

The joy of riding a motorcycle is out of this world. The thrill of riding in the hills and mountains is an opiate addiction. — Avijeet Das