Passes & Canyons Blog

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Biker Quote for Today

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

From Socorro we did not have a long day’s ride ahead so we took our time leaving. This gave me time to go next door to the Ace Hardware and purchase a steel rod and some Gorilla Tape. With some luck and creativity I hoped to jerry-rig my busted left mirror so it would be at least semi-usable.

As it turned out, there was a small opening in the fairing of just the right size in just the right place to insert the rod. I taped it to the fairing and then lined the mirror up and taped it to the rod. It was ugly but at least functional. Plus, the Gorilla Tape is black so that blended better with the black fairing than some grey duct tape would have. Still, the only position I could get it in was too far out, so to see behind me I had to lean way to the left. If someone was passing me, though, I had a good view of them, so that’s a good thing.

We took off, headed west on US 60 for Alpine, Arizona. Along the way the plan was to stop and visit the Very Large Array (VLA), which is an installation of radio-telescopes just to the south of the highway about 50 miles west of Socorro.

Shortly before reaching the VLA there was a rest area and Dennis blazed ahead of me to make sure we stopped. I hadn’t planned to because we would stopping just ahead but what the heck, we’re in no hurry. Right where we parked there was a smashed watermelon on the ground as well as what must have been more than five pounds of totally black, mushy bananas. ??? This was dubbed the watermelon stop.

We spent about 45 minutes here because there was no hurry and the weather was nice and we had good shade. While here Bruce, who was now on his second day riding with the OFMC, asked why we cruised along so slow, generally about five miles per hour below the speed limit. I replied that in this case at least it was because we weren’t going far and there was no hurry so why go fast? He noted that he had never ridden with any group of bikers who didn’t just blast along as fast as reasonable. Welcome to the OFMC.

It was only about five miles from that rest area to the VLA but we had learned while stopped that it was not currently open to the public. Rats. I really wanted to see the place. It has a whole bunch of disks pointing to the skies and what I’ve heard is that you don’t realize the size until you’re up close to them. Then it’s an oh-my-god moment. So it was good that we stopped at the rest area.

Still, there was a view area along the highway where you could view the array from a distance, so we pulled over. It was interesting from afar but I’m sure it was nothing like walking around right there. And by the way, I see on the web that they just reopened to the public on October 1.

Taking off from here we were ready to roll when Bruce got off his bike and removed his helmet. OK, what’s up? Turns out he left his lights on and apparently was needing a new battery, so that was all it took for the battery to die and the bike not to start. Dang. But Bruce had a jump starter in his gear so he dug that out. Then, being on an ST1300, he had to strip off a bunch of the body work to get to the battery to connect the jumper. He did, got it ready, it fired up instantly, and then he had to put it all back together. But we could roll.

In another 20 miles or so we reached Datil, where US 60 goes northwest while NM12 goes southwest. We stopped for lunch and Bruce made sure to park somewhere where he could roll downhill to start if need be.

Bruce had noticed that up ahead on US 60 the road goes through Pie Town, which is a small place known for what its name implies. Did we want to go that way and stop for pie? Plus, the map showed that on past Pie Town to Quemado there was a road heading south that intersects NM12 to put us back on course. This drew a strong yes but then there was bad news: Pie Town shops were closed on this day of the week. Darn. Back to Plan A.

So we took off and as we headed southwest the sky to the north, where we would have been if we had gone to Pie Town, was turning a very nasty shade of purple. We seemed to have dodged a bullet here.

As we rode along and reached NM32, the road coming down from Quemado, I recognized it as where we had turned north after coming the other direction on our last ride down in these parts. From there we retraced our route from that trip until we reached US 180, which we had taken up from Silver City that day. Now, at that intersection, we would be turning north, getting onto a stretch of road we had never ridden before. And we had managed to avoid rain all this way but now we would be heading right into it. Time to suit up.

We had no doubt we were going to get wet but Bruce remarked that it would be typical if we rode through just a bit of rain and then came out into that bit of blue sky we could see between two mountains. We pooh-poohed that idea but he turned out to be absolutely correct. It was raining when we were ready to ride and it quickly turned to a downpour. And then in just a few miles the rain started tapering off and soon there was no rain at all. Typical.

However. In the midst of the downpour, riding on this canyon road, there had been a large rock in the middle of our lane. A big one, maybe eight inches by five by four. Dennis saw it and steered around it. I saw it and steered around it. Bill only saw it at the last moment and did not steer around it. Big crunch. Big jolt. But he stayed up and all seemed well.

We continued up US 180 to Alpine and found our quarters for the night. As we pulled into the parking lot Bill’s bike was acting really squirrelly and by the time he stopped his front tire was completely flat. Double dang.

It didn’t take long to discover that the rock had bent his rim so that the tire couldn’t hold air. How it had managed to last till he rode 20 miles and got to our destination is a total mystery as well as a miracle. But there was no way he was going to be riding out of here.

Our hosts here at Escudilla Mountain Cabins, Greg and Shelly, did what they could to be helpful. Greg inflated the tire and we thought in the morning we could ride on to the next town and get a tube put in the tire. It went flat so quickly though that clearly that would not work. There was a towing service but they could not be there to pick the bike up till noon the next day. Of course the next day was to be the longest ride of our whole trip.

Later Greg suggested that they had a trailer and maybe Shelly would be willing to tow Bill to Eager, the next town. She had left and wouldn’t be back for awhile but he suggested Bill ask her then. When she was back and Bill asked Shelly seemed a bit put out at Greg for suggesting this because the trailer was way up in the hills and getting it and bringing it to Alpine would not exactly be a short, easy trip. Nope, we were going to be waiting for the tow truck the next day.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker when you relate more to a dog hanging its head out of a passing car than you do to humans.

After three nights in Espanola the OFMC, now augmented with Bruce, was ready to head out. Once again we weren’t going all that far so I had worked out a more roundabout route that was intended to keep us out of the metro mess of Albuquerque as we headed to Socorro. Going directly down I-25 that would have been only 160 miles. By the time we got there we had ridden about 280 miles.

First off there was no avoiding taking US 285 to Santa Fe and then we at least could avoid that busy town using the NM599 bypass. That brought us to I-25 and here’s where I missed a bet. We could have done a short jog over to NM14 and gone down through towns like Madrid, which is well known as the site of the “Wild Hogs” movie and is a nice route. But no, I had us routed down I-25 to Bernalillo and then east on NM165 so as to run to the east of the Sandia Mountains. Albuquerque is on the west of the hills.

The idea was to take NM165 to the road up to Sandia Crest, a view spot where all of Albuquerque and beyond are laid out below you. The problem was that NM165 is “unpaved and not maintained” from a few miles east of I-25 all the way up to where it meets the Sandia Crest road. We got to where the pavement ended and had to turn back.

That meant we needed to ride down I-25 through Albuquerque and then turn east on I-40 to where we could approach Sandia Crest from the south–a big detour. So we did that and it was exactly the kind of thing you try to avoid but it got us there. We got off I-40 at Tijeras, NM14, and turned north. We then turned west onto NM536 to get up to the crest. Of course, this NM14 is the same one that comes down through Madrid so if I had looked at the map a little harder this could have been our route all along. But oh man, if only NM165 was paved I’m sure we would have loved it. If only I’d known it wasn’t paved.

Sandia Crest is a place you really ought to go. The road is terrific, very twisty and full of great views and then there’s the crest. The signs say the city is a mile below you and yes it is spectacular.

We headed back down and retraced our route to Tijeras and then crossed I-40 to continue south along the eastern side of that next row of hills that run south of the Sandias. This is NM337 and it curves its way up some hills, down through some canyons, and is just generally a very good road to ride. Highly recommended.

NM337 runs a long way down until it hits a T intersection with NM55. We turned west and followed NM55 all the way down to Mountainair, through which US 60 passes. Along the way we felt it wise to stop in Tajique at Ray’s One Stop gas and convenience store for gas. I had intended for us to fill up in Tijeras but there was no gas there. So, as Bill noted, we paid probably the highest price for gas in all of New Mexico at Ray’s just to play it safe.

We made it down to Mountainair and turned west on US 60. This was a pretty nice road for a ways but eventually became an arrow-straight run toward I-25. As we headed that way we could see the sky getting threatening. We needed to reach I-25 and take it just a few miles south to Socorro, but as we got nearer it looked for all the world like Socorro was at that moment getting clobbered in a downpour.

Up ahead it didn’t look a lot better. My thinking at that time was to get to the interstate and take shelter in a gas station. Bruce had other ideas. He looked at that wall of water ahead and pulled off to suit up. Dennis did the same. Bill and I rode on until the drops started falling. We were not going to make it to the highway. Dennis and Bruce caught up with us as we suited up and by the time we were rolling the sky had opened up. We rode through a deluge and when we reached I-25 there was no gas station, no buildings at all. So we pulled over in the underpass beneath the highway.

After a while the guys were thinking that it was time to ride. I thought they were a bit premature but didn’t say anything and we took off. They were right. The rain was barely coming down and soon stopped entirely. Then it was just a few miles to Socorro and we found our motel for the night. A long day but a good day.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if you don’t ride in the rain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Biker Quote for Today

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

On our second day of the OFMC trip we were looking at a short ride, just 96 miles south on US 285 from Alamosa to Espanola, New Mexico. That was just not going to happen.

So we headed east on US 160 to Fort Garland and then turned south on CO159. Besides being more scenic, it was a much less busy road and it led us down to even more good riding. I had suggested we go down to Questa, in New Mexico, on what became NM522 when we crossed the state line, and then go east around the mountain to Red River, Eagle Nest, Angel Fire, and west to pick up the High Road to Taos, which goes to Espanola. That was a bit more riding than Bill wanted so we nixed that but did continue on 522 to Taos, where we intended to catch the High Road.

But things got interesting before that happened. Looking at the map I saw that if we took a right turn onto US 64 where it intersects 522, and then very quickly take a left onto what I now see listed as Blueberry Hill Road, we could bypass Taos entirely. We’ve been to Taos plenty of times and we know the traffic it entails. Plus, there were signs warning of road construction in Taos, so all the more reason to bypass.

And Blueberry Hill Road was really nice. It follows the ridge line through a very pretty area and at the southern end ties into NM240, which continues on down to NM68. Sweet road. Terrific to completely avoid Taos.

At NM68 I was set to go left when Dennis pulled up next to me and told me his GPS said go right to get to Espanola. Because of some unexpected turns in the road I was not totally sure of our location so I figured to trust his GPS. It turned out this road did indeed go to Espanola but it was not the High Road.

What it was was a road we had never ridden before. So with Blueberry Hill Road this was two new roads for us in one day. And it was a nice road, too. It runs through a gorge on the Rio Grande much of the way and then the terrain opens out into a valley with a lot of wineries. And then it does get down to Espanola and is considerably shorter than the High Road.

We still got into Espanola way too early and had to wait about three hours before we could even check into our hotel. Imagine if we’d gone straight down US 285! But now we were set for the next three days because this was our customary gambling and golf stop that we always make on this trip.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if your leathers still have creases.

It was a very auspicious beginning to this year’s OFMC trip. The day before the temperature had hit 100, but this morning it was about 60 and I put on a couple extra layers, and was glad I did.

We planned to meet up in Conifer so I headed out of town on US 285. Over the foothills there were clouds that seemed to promise rain right off the bat. I was ready to stop at any moment to put on rain gear but the drops never fell. Then, as I came down the hill into Conifer it was suddenly sunshine and blue sky, with not a single cloud ahead of me in the west. Sweet!

Bill and Dennis were there and we quickly got rolling. On out 285, over Kenosha Pass and down to Fairplay. West of Fairplay they’re replacing a bridge, so a detour sends everyone south on CO9 to Hartsel, where we turned onto US 24 and then west to Antero Junction to rejoin 285.

Then it was 285 nearly all the way. Through Buena Vista, Poncha Springs (with a stop at Bill’s daughter Jenna’s), over Poncha Pass, and down to CO17, which goes straight to Alamosa whereas 285 gets there but only by detouring over to Saguache and Monte Vista.

All in all an easy-going day with great weather and no problems or surprises.

Really, it’s such a different feel on the first day out on a trip vs. taking a day ride. There’s an energy and an anticipation you just don’t have on a day ride. We’re off!! We’re out for a week! Yahoo! And if the heavens are smiling on you, so much the better.

Biker Quote for Today

“On a motorcycle, you can’t really think about more than where you are. There’s a freedom that comes with that – from stress, worry, sweating the small stuff.” ? Laurence Fishburne

Yes, Judy and I were up on Mount Rainier just a couple weeks ago; no, we weren’t on a bike. Not that it wasn’t very much in my thoughts. And there were plenty of people who were there on their bikes. Astride a motorcycle has got to be the best way to see this mountain. But of course, that’s true of just about any mountain, isn’t it?

Whatever. I just wanted to pass along some of what I observed regarding bikes and the mountain.

The roads up and around Mount Rainier are just what you would suppose: rising and falling, twisting and turning, with a lot of great views. This is one way a bike would be best. Some of the best views are from places where there is nowhere for a car to stop. But a motorcycle can slip into tiny spaces and be perfectly safe and out of traffic.

And when you get up to the best places, with a car you run into what has become the norm at many of the nicest parks: crowding and nowhere to park. Not a problem with a motorcycle. The entire lot may be full but they have motorcycle parking in the choicest spots and it is never so full you can’t get one more bike in there.

The photo above was taken at the Paradise area, which is the number one spot on the hill. We were creeping along into the parking area with people going all the way down one lane, back another, and then down a third trying to find a place for a car. While we waited our turn for this a guy came in on a bike, drove right past us all, and parked without any problem at all. Envious? You bet.

Everywhere we went on this trip there were lots of bikes. The mountains, the seashores, the cities. And that’s another advantage the bikes have. We took the ferry from Port Angeles, Washington, over to Victoria, British Columbia, and as we waited to board, the arriving ferry poured out its contents. And who came racing out first? The motorcycles, of course. Those guys go right to the head of the line, get on the ferry first, and then are first off.

And we ran into a rally on the Olympic peninsula. We spent three nights at Pacific Beach and there were a surprising number of bikes there. One of those days we drove down to Ocean Shores and holy smokes, there were bikes everywhere. Sure enough, a rally. Our whole time in the Pacific Northwest we saw almost entirely bikers who were fully geared up, which makes sense. You should always be ready for rain. But these rally goers were the exception. They were dressed just like your usual Harley folks anywhere else in the country. And hey, there wasn’t any rain, so they were cool.

I’ve been all over the west on a motorcycle with the exception of Oregon and Washington. Some day I’m going to rectify that omission.

Biker Quote for Today

Ride without a destination and you’ll finally see what freedom can be.

I’ve spoken a lot in my narrative of the RMMRC‘s Great River Road ride about the conflicting preferences of different riders. Some of our guys want to just get out there and burn up the miles. They don’t want to stop until it’s time for gas.

Others of us, and I am definitely in this group, prefer to take a more relaxed approach, with more frequent stops just to stretch our legs, rest our butts, and maybe stop to spend some time at a few points of interest.

The answer here seems obvious to me: we need to break into two groups so everyone can ride the sort of ride they prefer.

We had originally planned to do this ride in two groups simply because there were going to be enough of us it made sense not to ride in one large pack. But then as the departure date drew near several people had cause to drop out, so the morning of the ride the decision was made to go as one group.

I submit that even if we were looking at one group of three and another of five, that is what we should have done. And on any future multi-day ride I do with the RMMRC I will strongly argue for just that.

As it was, on this ride there were three of us who made our desires known to stop more frequently. Probably we should have just informed the others that we were going to be our own separate group and just do it. But we hadn’t really had the discussions and thought it through that far.

Yes, at one point Bob replied to our calls for a shorter leg by saying that anyone who wanted to peel off from the group at any time is free to do so, and I did. But I really think that’s a bit disingenuous. One aspect of riding in a group is the feeling of safety in numbers. If you break down, you have someone there to help you out. If one person just takes off on their own and then that person has problems, there’s no one to assist.

Now, in my case, that was not an issue. I’m accustomed to riding alone. I like riding alone, and I feel that I’m prepared to deal with issues if they arise. But not everyone is like me. Some people who might wish to have a different ride could easily be reluctant to venture out all by themselves.

Two groups makes sense to me. Or, I’ve thought that maybe I ought to set up a ride that caters to my style of riding. Rather than blast across eastern Colorado and all of Kansas and Missouri in just two days, do it in three. A number of years ago I rode Friggs’s bike out to St. Louis for him and I know I took at least three days, maybe four. I had a fun, relaxing ride. I’ve ridden several 500-mile days and fun and relaxing are two adjectives I would not use to describe them. And if it’s not fun, why are you doing it?

And yes, if I do set up this sort of ride I’ll make a point of suggesting to anyone who is more in the Iron Butt mindset that they should go ahead, we’ll see them at the end of the day.

Biker Quote for Today

Bikers are the happiest people when they have their boots on the pegs, their ass in the seat, and nothing but the rumble of pipes in their ears.