Passes & Canyons Blog

I told my wife, Judy, at lunch the other day that I had spent the morning spending an obscene amount of money. I was making my motel reservations for this RMMRC ride to California in April. I’m figuring that by the time you add in motels, gas, and food I’m going to be spending around $3,000 on this trip. Yikes!

Why so much? Mostly it’s motels. There are only four of us going and two have agreed to share rooms. I would have been fine sharing with the fourth but he prefers to have his own room. I have no idea why; I just know that some people do prefer their privacy, even if it means paying more.

What a difference from the early days of the OFMC. Back in those days, long ago, we were not anybody’s idea of flush. John and Bill and I would get into town, split up, and go check prices and availability at several motels, then regroup and choose. Most of the time we got rooms with two beds and we rotated whose turn it was to sleep on the floor. We also carried tents and sleeping bags to we could camp if we wanted to or needed to. We didn’t make reservations in those days so sometimes that camping gear saved our butts.

So affluence is a big part of this spending escalation. We never went the expensive route back then for the simple reason that that was money we did not have. Cheap was a necessity. Fortunately those days are over. I’m not crazy about spending so much on this trip but I have the money and it is money I can afford to part with.

The other thing is aging, although for myself that really is not an issue. The group of us who are going got together the other day to prepare and they all agreed that camping is well in their pasts. Gosh, I still enjoy camping, as does Judy. But beyond camping, these guys have certain standards for accommodations that rule out most of the cheaper places. For instance, we’ll be in St. George, Utah, one night and there are a lot of places where you can get a room there for less than $100. The place the group selected, however, runs about $200. This is one instance where I opted to stay down the road a couple miles and pay about $60 less. It’s still a plenty nice place and I don’t know what the reason was for choosing the higher-priced place but I just can’t see any reason to pay that price.

In other cases there really was no choice. We’ll be spending one night in Death Valley and there are not a lot of accommodations available in Death Valley. And then, the place we’re staying has much higher rates on the weekend and we will be there on the weekend. So I’ll pay about $270 for one night in a two-queen suite all by myself. The point here is that we’re going for the real Death Valley experience. I’ve never been there so I’m not sure what that consists of but I’ll pay the fee and find out.

So it ought to be a really good trip. And I suppose there is an off chance that some fifth person will yet show up who I can share rooms with. But I’m not expecting it. It’s just money, you can’t take it with you when you die, and I have no heirs. Why not spend it.

Biker Quote for Today

I don’t want to know how much your motorcycle cost, shut up and ride.

Judy and I have a couple Sena communicators we use when we ride together but these guys I’m going on this trip with soon all have Cardos. My choice was to be the one not linked together or go get a Cardo. I got a Cardo.

We had a pre-ride get-together the other day to make plans and for those with Cardos to get all synced up. I didn’t have mine yet but immediately afterward I went to Performance Cycle and got one. I had the guy install it for me, which was a really good thing because he–with all his experience–did not find it an easy job.

I have two helmets these days, one a good Shoei that has the Sena in it. The other is kind of a cheapie I bought mid-trip when the RMMRC did its Great River Road trip in 2022. If I had other options this might not be the helmet I would choose to put the communicator in but it was what I had so I did. So now I have two helmets, one with the Sena, the other with the Cardo, and I’ll decide which helmet to wear at least sometimes by who I’ll be riding with.

I’m assuming having this communicator will be a good thing. Dave said it would be because he once did a ride in Spain where everyone else was linked but he was not. He said it was terrible. They’d all do something they had discussed and he’d be sitting there wondering . . . What? He said the other guys always forgot he was not in on their conversations.

What I hope does not happen is that there is this constant chatter that disturbs my solitude. I like riding alone and when I’m riding with other people I like the solitude of the ride where it’s just you. I hope turning this thing on and off is easy because I may do that a lot. Or maybe just turning the volume down will suffice. But then they may decide something and I won’t hear it and I’ll be the one saying “What?”.

I’m eager to see how this thing works and how well. From what people say, a lot of these guys in the RMMRC have tried Sena and have not been happy with them, which is why they switched to Cardo. And in the meantime, a box of Sena equipment that was no longer wanted has made it to me, which could be a good thing if the ones Judy and I have ever crap out. I try to keep them fresh by plugging them in every couple months, rather than letting the batteries drain dead, but who knows. Of course, the batteries in these ones I just got are probably dead and may not work all that well. Who knows.

Anyway, you can bet I’ll report here on how this thing works on this trip. Stay tuned.

Biker Quote for Today

A motorcycle can sing on the streets of a city.

This is going to be more the piece I started out to write a week ago, about best rides. I really should have been thinking in terms of best roads. So now that I’ve got my head screwed on straight, let’s go.

One was the Stewart’s Point Skaggs Springs Road in California. The company I was working for sent me out for a month to Sacramento and I was determined to ride while I was out there. My bike was back in Colorado, however, so I went to a dealership there and ended up speaking with the owner, asking if he would agree to sell me a bike now and then buy it back from me a month later, of course for a bit less. He said sure, no problem. Bless his soul.

That put me on a 1984 Honda Nighthawk 550. And every weekend I was there I took off on Friday after work and came back to the motel on Sunday evening. I rode down to Yosemite one weekend and covered as much territory as I could in the time I had.

On one of these trips I headed through the Northern California wine country. I had a map but mostly I was just wandering. I decided to take a road up past this big lake and somewhere along the way I saw there was a road that cut through the hills to the coast. Oh, yeah, I definitely want to go to the coast.

This road was the Stewart’s Point Skaggs Springs Road. I almost lost the trail getting to it, finding myself in a really odd little hill community with not a lot of road signs. But I made the correct turns and was on my way. What a road! This little piece of great asphalt (roads stay nice in California because they don’t suffer the freeze-thaw cycle we get here in Colorado) was the most curvy little thing you can imagine. And in most places it was only one lane wide. Deep in the forest. If not for the road itself you could have believed the nearest civilization was a thousand miles away. It was unreal.

And then it came out right on the coast, on Highway 1.

A few years later when the OFMC made its first trip to California I took John and Bill to this road and while John loved it as much as I did, Bill said it started making him feel motion-sickness with all the constant curves. Sorry Bill. We loved it.

Then there was the Alpine Loop, in Utah, on another OFMC trip. The three of us were in Heber City headed for Salt Lake City and we asked a local what the best way to get there was. We were figuring a loop north and then west or else a different loop west and then north. Nope. This person told us about the Alpine Loop, which took the diagonal–more or less–through the hills and brings you out just south of Salt Lake City.

To get to it we just needed to head west, toward Provo, but then turn north and follow that road up past Sundance, Robert Redford’s place, and just keep going. Wow, what a road!

Once again, this thing was full of twists and turns and at places it, too, was one-lane. Instead of going through cities and riding the interstate we were in the hills away from traffic and congestion and out where it was gorgeous. What a fabulous ride. The road did finally bring us down into Little Cottonwood Canyon, which spills out onto Sandy, Utah. That road was so good we’ve been on it at least twice more since then. And who would have known it was there were it not for that friendly local. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

So that’s a couple. Maybe I’ll remember a few more and revisit this theme again.

Biker Quote for Today

Taking the scenic route all summer long.

Sure any day on a motorcycle is better than just about anything else, but still, we all have had especially good days. So I got to thinking about what I would list as my best days riding.

The first one comes instantly and requires no consideration. This was the day Kevin and I rode a couple of his V-Stroms over Cinnamon Pass. This was a September day and if you have spent time in Colorado in the fall you know that there are some days in the fall when the sun, the air, and everything is so perfect it’s a true Rocky Mountain high. It was being here for a few of these days when I traveled for a year after college that persuaded me to come here when I decided it was time to put my roots down somewhere.

This day with Kevin on the V-Stroms on Cinnamon Pass was one of those incredible days. On top of that, Cinnamon Pass itself was beautiful. The fall colors were in full profusion and it’s a beautiful mountain location. The pass runs from Lake City over to the Silverton area, on US 550, the Million Dollar Highway. How could it not be an incredible ride? It was. I’ve never had a day on a bike I enjoyed more.

Another best day was really nothing special but circumstances made it special. This was in 1996 and the OFMC was heading out with Deadwood, SD, our destination for the first day.

The circumstances were this: I was married just a year at this point and, about six months in, my wife’s three kids became ungodly terrors. They hated me and made that utterly clear. And for the next seven years they made our lives a living hell, day after day after day. They finally all moved out, they’ve grown up now, and they are adults I actually like and even care about. But back then I was in shock.

John and Bill and I took off this day and as we rode north and I knew I would be away from it all for a week the anger and frustration melted away. I found myself riding along throwing my head back and screaming into the wind, “I love my motorcycle!!!” I will never forget that day. There haven’t been many days in my life when I felt that good. But for the next six years the situation with the kids made my one week on the bike trip something I longed for like crazy, and I was overjoyed each year when it finally came.

After that it gets harder to identify best days. I actually have to think about it.

I guess another best day was also one of the worst. It was at the end of the day when all the woes of the day were overcome that I felt absolutely wonderful.

This was on another OFMC trip, and I’ve told this story before. I had taken my bike in for some work and the shop promised me a dozen times it would be ready by the time we were set to leave. And it wasn’t. John and Bill left without me and we agreed to meet at the campground at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. I finally got my bike and blasted off in that direction. After two days of very hard riding I got to the campground, found the campsite but no buddies, so I went looking for them.

Not finding them in any of the obvious places I considered the non-obvious. Perhaps they had ridden out to Sunset Point to watch the sunset. This point is about 25 miles out a narrow, winding road, max speed about 25 mph. I rode out there and they weren’t there so I turned around and headed back. Then my bike died. I was miles from nowhere and there was not another soul on the road. With all the other stress I’d been through up to this point this was where I broke.

Standing there next to my bike in the darkness on this deserted road I pounded on the seat of my bike screaming “God damn it!! God damn it!! God damn it!!”

Then it dawned on me that maybe I’d just run out of gas and I needed to go to Reserve. I flipped the lever down, hit the start button, it sputtered, and then fired up. Talk about exultation! I hurried on back to camp, John and Bill were there, I grabbed the last beer they had out of John’s hand and drank it down, and I felt great. I was with my buddies, all was well, and oh my god the horror was over. You don’t ever feel much better than I felt right then.

OK, that wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I started writing this but that’s where I ended up. Maybe I’ll come back to this topic if some good rides come to mind. Meanwhile, there surely must be some quote I could use that is appropriate to this piece.

Biker Quote for Today

The best moments are always unplanned.

The year 2025 is already looking like much more of a riding year than 2024 was. Starting things off in grand fashion at the RMMRC is this West Coast & Death Valley Spring Ride 2025 that will be a 15-day trip out and back. I’m definitely planning to go.

What I really like about this trip is that Alan, who planned it, is more of my type of thinking about motorcycle trips. Rather than what is usually the standard RMMRC approach, this one does not consist of day after day of long miles, with few stops at interesting places along the way. There are no days with more than 300 miles and there are even some with fewer than 200 miles.

I’ll also note that Alan has made provisions in case someone can’t manage or doesn’t want to do the full 15-day trip. You’d just be riding home on your own, unless there are others who also don’t want to do the whole trip.

The group will be leaving on Tuesday, April 22, and returning on Tuesday, May 6. Stops for the night, in order, will be Fruita (CO), Loa (UT), St. George (UT), Las Vegas (NV), Stovepipe Wells (CA), Bakersfield (CA), Monterey (CA), San Simeon (CA), Victorville (CA), Lake Havasu City (AZ), Globe (AZ), Eagar (AZ), Cuba (NM), Red River (NM), and then home.

Overall the trip will be about 3,215 miles, split out over 15 days. My kind of trip. This means there will be no need for crawling out of bed at the crack of dawn because you can leave at 9 or 10 in the morning and still have plenty of time to go 250 miles. With stops.

You can do the trip, too. Just go to the RMMRC Meetup page and sign up. You’ll need to join the RMMRC but that’s only–I forget–$10 or $12 a year. Not a big deal. Specific hotels will be selected and you’ll need to make your own reservations, though if you want to share a room with someone you can post a note on the ride saying as much and if someone else is looking to share (usually the case) you just hook up with them and either split up making the reservations or maybe that guy already made the reservations and has done all the work.

Because we’re talking late April the weather will be a potential issue. A late snowstorm would make going to Fruita that first day more than a problem. We’ll just be keeping a close eye on the weather in the days leading up to departure.

I’m pretty stoked. This is gonna be a good ride.

Biker Quote for Today

Riding a motorcycle is like writing a beautiful story with every twist of the road.

There is a reason that in later years the OFMC planned out the year’s trip well in advance: try having 10 guys roll into town expecting to find enough rooms. Many times you’ll find them; sometimes you won’t. Make advance reservations.

In the early days of the group we didn’t even dream of such concerns. There were just the three of us–John, Bill, and me–and we carried camping gear. Good thing, because there were times we had to use it.

The earliest–and most famous and most clueless–time was 1991. We were headed for the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. There was a campground there. Not a problem. Right.

My bike was overdue from the shop so I did not leave with John and Bill. They got to the campground and told the person at the gate they wanted a campsite. What a joke! Do you not understand you need to make reservations a year in advance? Oh gosh, who do we do? And how do we get word to Ken, who was coming to meet them there. Then through a stroke of luck, someone called to cancel. The ranger called them over with the good news and all was fine. But in the days before cellphones, what would they have done to connect with me?

Then there was 1992. We decided to head north and got to Laramie. John and I had been there on an overnight the year before and had had a great time. What we didn’t factor in on this occasion was that Frontier Days was going on in Cheyenne and every motel room within any reasonable distance was booked. For the first and only time ever we rolled out our sleeping bags at a KOA. Not ideal but hey, it was late at night and all we did was sleep and roll out of there.

The next year Bill was unable to come so it was just John and me. At one point we rolled in to Pinedale, Wyoming, and surprise! The Pinedale Rendezvous was in progress. The place was swarming. Fortunately we found what we believed to be the last room in town.

After awhile we started thinking about festivals going on so we could avoid them. That didn’t help us the year we went up to Glacier National Park. This place is a major attraction at all times and we got into the little town of St. Mary, on the east side of the park, and once again we just lucked into the last room in town. Man, maybe we need to think ahead at least a little.

By 2000 we were thinking ahead. The group was now larger and as we headed out we planned to spend the night in Hot Sulphur Springs. John was supposed to have made a reservation but when he called to do so he had been told they always had plenty of rooms so no need for reservations. Wrong. We got there and the town was booked. There was a bicycle race going on that weekend and we were out of luck. We rode on to Kremmling and even there the motels were all full. The only place we could find was an old-style hotel in the middle of town, with bathrooms down the hall. At least they had beds.

We never went anywhere after that without reservations but sometimes things take an unexpected turn. In 2019 we were just down to three again, Bill, me, and Dennis. We were headed for Missoula but never got there. Dennis made a bone-headed mistake at a gas station and put diesel in his bike by accident. He was on an Indian and the nearest Indian dealer was in Idaho Falls. He got a U-Haul truck and we loaded the bike in. He spoke with the folks at the dealership and they said they would get to him right away the next morning, as long as we were there when they opened.

We got to Idaho Falls and for who knows what crazy reason there were no rooms to be had anywhere. But some local we spoke to suggested one other place we try, which the local Chamber of Commerce had not thought to suggest. We called and they had exactly one room. We got there and walked in and another couple came in right behind us. We got the room and they did not.

And that brings one other instance to mind. This was in 2015. We made reservations for our first night at Oak Creek, a bit south of Steamboat Springs. No problem. Well, we were comfortably ensconced when the skies opened up and the rain pounded down. Our cabin had eaves so we were enjoying sitting outside watching the rain. Then a motorcycle carrying a couple came slowly through the parking area, only to see the “No Vacancy” sign. And off they went through the downpour.

That’s how you learn, I guess. We sure did.

Biker Quote for Today

Been through a lot, my motorcycles and me. Heat, darkness, wind, rain, fences . . .

I kind of outdid myself in the area of low mileage last year. Somewhat to my surprise, I did still put more miles on my motorcycles than I did on my car, but the total of all vehicles was substantially below what in some years I have put on a single bike.

To be specific, I put a total of 3,852 miles on my bikes and 3,102 miles on my car. That’s just a hair under 7,000 miles total. Heck, in 2011 I put 10,004 miles on my Kawasaki Concours. In 2013 I put 9,437 miles on that bike. As recently as 2023 I put 3,866 miles on my V-Strom.

Am I getting to be a big-time homebody? Well, maybe, maybe not. In recent years I had really leaned on the folks at the RMMRC to plan rides and then I’d go along. Those rides have dropped off a lot lately and I need to be the instigator at least on occasion rather than depending on someone else to do the work. I do have a couple day rides in mind for after the weather gets warmer and we can go up in the mountains again.

Also, I would have racked up a bunch more miles if I had been able to go on a multi-day RMMRC ride that I planned to go on, but physical issues just made that impossible. And then the OFMC opted in 2024 for a much shorter ride than in recent years, mostly just staying in Colorado.

Well, the OFMC appears to have run its course so now I also need to turn my planning efforts to a longer ride with the RMMRC. I do have thoughts about that, too–I just need to follow through.

The other thing I’d really like to do is get out for some two- or three-day rides with Judy on behind. The last trip we did together was up to British Columbia but that was years ago. I’m not sure she has even been on a bike in several years. My fault. She’s not going to plan something like that; I need to.

OK Ken, you have your assignment. Now get with it dude!

Biker Quote for Today

Is it time for our post-work motorcycle ride, yet?

Chicks dig guys on motorcycles, it has been said. And yeah, there’s some truth to that–we all know it. So it’s natural to wonder what encounters or even escapades have been visited upon the OFMC over the years. Well, there have been a few.

First we need to make clear that in the very early days neither Bill nor I were married, so potential did exist. But the fact is that nothing ever happened in those years and then we both got married. Being married changes the dynamic a bit (he said with considerable understatement).

Way back in 1995 Bill had a problem with the stator on his Honda Shadow so John and I left without him. He jury-rigged a fix and later met us in Thermopolis, Wyoming. Meanwhile, that first day, John and I made it to Wheatland and got a room for the night. Being a couple guys out on a fun trip, we had a bite to eat and then hit a nearby bar.

We were just minding our own business when a quite drunk and not at all attractive local woman approached us. We were happy to make conversation but she quickly brought the conversation around to, would the two of us like to head back to her place? OK, didn’t really expect this. Um, no. No thanks. Gosh, thanks for asking. But by golly, she is not forgotten.

In 2003 we spent our only night ever in Aspen. Aspen is super expensive but John found the one reasonably priced place in town. Cool. It was the three of us, Bill, John, and me, and again, we headed for a bar after dinner.

We ended up sitting at the bar right next to a couple women whose tight, taut facial skin told of “work” to banish lines of age. Clearly the well-to-do sort you expect to find in Aspen. We got to chatting with them and they seemed to have some interest in these biker guys they had met, until . . .

At some point I brought up the subject of Hunter Thompson. Besides being an outlandish gonzo journalist, Thompson, a resident of the area, had run for sheriff of Pitkin County. He didn’t win but as I recall he didn’t exactly get crushed at the polls either. I asked the woman next to me if there had ever been an likelihood that he might win.

Her reaction took us totally by surprise. She immediately grew very hostile and acted insulted at the idea that we would think they were stupid enough to vote for such an idiot. Um, excuse me but I was implying nothing and only asking a question. Guess maybe it’s time we move on to some other watering hole.

Then in 2005 we were in Encampment, Wyoming. This was the first day of the trip and it was a pretty short ride to get there so once again (is there a theme developing here?) we were in the only local establishment when a big crowd of bikers on a poker run engulfed the place. We got to talking and partying with the crowd and then at one point a local woman seemed to take a bit of an interest in Bill.

Bill was still single at this point so when she suggested they go for a ride he was happy to oblige. John and I were thinking, OK, Bill’s going to get lucky. But then it wasn’t long before he was back, without her. Turned out, he told us, along the way they spotted a guy who didn’t look friendly. “Oh, oh, that’s my ex-husband,” she told him. So he dropped her off and made a possibly well-advised exit.

In 2010 we didn’t go to Wyoming, we did a trip around Wyoming. By now it was a much bigger group, with sons and friends of sons joining the older guys on the ride. We stopped one night in Big Timber, Montana, where the only thing going at night was the bowling alley. It was a happening night at the bowling alley, with a lot of drinking going on, and after awhile the old guys headed on back to the hotel, leaving the scene to the young guys.

We were in an old hotel of the sort where there were no private facilities; the restrooms were down the hall. Sometime during the night John pulled on his pants and went down the hall to get rid of some beer and heard some odd thumping going on in one of the shower stalls. The next morning he learned it had been Matt–the brother of a friend of a son, on his only ride with the OFMC–and some lady he met at the bar. So for once something actually happened.

Later on that same trip we were in Broadus, Montana, and just hanging out in the parking lot at our motel in the evening. Some woman also staying there was attracted to all these bikers and came over to chat. Very friendly. Turned out she was working. Why anyone would choose to ply that trade in this little wide spot in the road is beyond me. She didn’t find any business among our crowd, although Matt did show some amount of interest. Young guys and testosterone.

So yeah, that’s the sort of wild and crazy life you lead when you’re a stud biker.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker when nothing heals like two wheels.