Passes & Canyons Blog

There’s a 15-day ride coming up and I’m definitely planning to go.

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.

Riding into town with a group this size and expecting to find rooms can be a very foolish thing to do.

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 . . .

Riding up on Cochetopa Pass.

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?

Taking a break along the road in 2010. That’s Pawnee Buttes off on the horizon.

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.

Jon Robertson, the author of this book, Rebel Without a Clue, contacted me asking if I’d like to review it. It’s about a great motorcycle adventure he took many years ago, plus a lot more, he told me. Of course I’d like to read it and do a review. Well, here we are.

First thing you have to understand about this book is that while the central focus is on this nearly 10,000-mile, two month 1970 trip, there is indeed a lot more. In fact, as I was telling Judy, it’s really like four books packed into one. The first part is about a fairly remarkable childhood, which set the stage for part two, the trip. Part three is Jon’s life since the trip and part four is Jon’s philosophical musings on a variety of topics. All tying back to the trip in various ways.

I have to say, because Jon and I were born the same year there is a lot in the first part that I found quite interesting because it was his experience of many large cultural events that I was experiencing in much the same way. That is, I could really identify very personally with him through it all. Whether that makes this portion interesting for you could be another matter. Still, the first part sets the stage so to understand it you really should read the first part. Plus, I referred to his “remarkable childhood.” Maybe I really mean the teen years. Whatever. But I can guarantee Jon’s teen years were nothing like yours or mine and it just makes for interesting reading.

So what’s the deal with the trip? Jon and his friend Tom set out from Los Gatos, California, and rode across the continent to New York and the east coast and then back. They had never done a trip anything close to this; heck, Tom wasn’t even an experienced motorcyclist.

Along the way things went right, things went wrong, good things happened, bad things happened–pretty much what you would expect. But let me ask you: how could anyone do a 10,000 mile motorcycle trip and not have all kinds of fun and interesting stories to tell? I don’t think it’s possible, which basically means there’s a bunch of good reading here.

Once the trip is over there’s a bunch of book left with one central question hanging over it all. Jon gives a capsulized account of the rest of his life and then voices some opinions that you may or may not agree with. And there’s that question hanging.

I’m not going to spoil it by telling you the question or the answer but Jon strings you along right to the very end before you get the answer. You do finally get the answer.

This is not the book it would be if it had been put out by some major publishing house, with top professional editors guiding the author and perhaps significantly reshaping the overall book. It’s self-published on Amazon but Jon is highly literate and very good with words, not to mention grammar, spelling, and punctuation. I’ve read several in-process books by non-professionals and I can assure you that grammar, spelling, and punctuation have not been any of those authors’ strengths. As I have said at least a thousand times (Judy will confirm), everybody needs an editor. Yes, I highlighted a number of things as I read through, but Jon is head and shoulders above these other authors whose works in progress I have read. If your skills in those areas are weak you probably won’t even notice.

So would I urge you to click on through that link to Amazon and buy this book today? If you’re into motorcycles I think it’s a good bet you would enjoy it. And as a digital download (Kindle) it’s only $7.98. I enjoyed it. I’m glad I had the chance to read it. And if you do read it, let me know what you think. I’d be interested.

Biker Quote for Today

And then we were gone, moving through the air like two acrobats on metal horses. — Jon Robertson

A rest stop on that trip in 2002, just a bit south of Jackpot.

We of the OFMC have always had a soft spot for one really out of the way spot: Jackpot, Nevada.

Jackpot is a wide spot in the road, right on the state line with Idaho, about 50 miles south of Twin Falls. By right on the state line I mean that coming south you cross into Nevada and you’re in the middle of town. I once, back in the days before we always wore helmets, came across the state line figuring I would be fine without a helmet the short distance (100 yards?) to our hotel. (Nevada is a bucket state.) Wrong. A cop flagged me down immediately and said no, I needed to stop short of the state line and put the helmet on. OK, lesson learned.

The OFMC favors Jackpot for a couple reasons. First, it’s a gambling stop, which is mandatory on any trip. Second, it has a surprisingly nice golf course, which is also an OFMC must.

But it can also be a fun place. As with any big casino, Cactus Pete’s has an auditorium where they have shows. It’s not like way out here in this podunk place you’re going to get top headliners but on the other hand, ticket prices are nothing like what they are in Las Vegas.

We were there one time and the show that night was Bowser, the lead singer from the group Sha Na Na. OK, that sounds like fun, let’s do it. Besides, the longer you spend sitting and watching a show the less money you lose at the slots or the tables.

So Bowser was good and we enjoyed his part of the show but I don’t now remember much about it. What we all remember was what they did during intermission: a hula-hoop contest.

By this time the OFMC was a mixed group of the original guys and others of our generation, plus the sons and friends of sons of the older guys. Everyone was egging on anyone who might be willing to get up there on stage and potentially make a fool of themselves and I got up there and so did Johnathon, John’s son.

They started out with three categories: men, women, and kids. Yes, there were kids allowed because it was a show and they just weren’t allowed to drink, of course.

Johnathon was a hot shot and he figured of course he would take the men’s competition and he was dumbstruck when I emerged the winner. Not the first or last time Johnathon has underestimated me. Then the winners of each group faced off.

I don’t remember anything about the winner of the women’s group but there was a young girl who won the kids’ group. And oh my gosh, she skunked us totally.

We got up there and I’m gyrating and trying to keep that hoop up above my waist, struggling mightily, and unsuccessfully and the girl was just very easily, casually, sedately, swinging that puppy around and around. Just to rub it in, she kept going for a good while after the other two of us had lost. And Johnathon was pleased to see me lose so decisively after he had lost to me so badly.

I’ve thought about the whole thing since then and I think I understand how it worked out. This little girl had hips wider than her stomach, whereas we older folks had more belly and less hip. I think it’s just easier to keep the hoop above your hips when you’re shaped that way. I mean it couldn’t just be that she was better at hula hoop than me, could it? No, no. couldn’t be.

Anyway–we always had a good time at Jackpot. Always a favorite stop.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if your saddlebags have a special pocket for your cell phone.

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.