Passes & Canyons Blog

We pose with Buffalo Bill Cody in Cody, Wyoming.

Heading out of Heber City the next morning the OFMC was back on extremely familiar ground. We were already on U.S. 40 so we headed southeast and then east through Vernal and on to Dinosaur. We’ve ridden this road many times. At Dinosaur it was time to stop for ice cream.

By then our riding for the day was almost done. We turned south on CO 64, to Rangely, and there we were.

The ride through Utah had been nice, weather not too hot, countryside pretty. The heat came as we came back into Colorado.

At Rangely we had a whole afternoon free so considered playing nine holes of golf on the local course. A call told us, however, that they had a tournament going on so no dice. Then a huge storm with lightning and thunder hit right when we would have been out on the course so that was probably a good thing that we didn’t play.

As we relaxed on the hotel patio a guy on a really good-looking BMW adventure bike rode up and parked right there. So of course we struck up a conversation. He was from Connecticut (I think) and had trailered bikes out with a buddy with whom he had covered a couple thousand miles all within Colorado in the last week. Now he was off on his own for another week. He said he liked that because his buddy was very fond of speeds above 100, while he himself preferred to stay at about 90.

The next morning we were headed home. It was Sunday and we were going to be on I-70 and we all know what that means: Heavy, heavy traffic coming down out of the mountains. If we got an early enough start we hoped we could slip through before it got horrible.

Getting an early start had other benefits as well. We continued east on CO 64 to Rio Blanco County Road 5, the Piceance Creek Road, which is a jog around and avoiding Meeker. There wasn’t much traffic on 64 but there was none at all on this road. It was cool and beautiful in the early morning and the valley was the greenest I have ever seen it, thanks to all the rain we’ve had this year. The road was clear and smooth and we just reveled in it all.

I had been looking for a place to pull over and finally found one and we agreed that this was heaven. We were there more than 10 minutes and there were still zero other vehicles. Then we rolled on. All along the way on this loop until we hit CO 13 headed down to Rifle we saw exactly two cars. Talk about sweet.

Stopping for gas in Rifle we heard from other riders that there had been a landslide the day before that closed part of westbound I-70, a little west of Glenwood. No problem for eastbound, however, and we were headed east. We saw that slide as we went past and it was very interesting. It wasn’t like you might imagine, where a hillside slipped down. Rather, there were several washes where it had apparently rained really hard and the water carried a huge amount of dirt with it and dumped it on the road in the various spots where the washes–essentially gullies–came down to the highway. One lane of westbound traffic was moving while crews worked to clear the other lane.

Bill and Dennis and I made one last stop in Frisco for gas and lunch and then said our farewells. We knew we were going to get into traffic ahead and at this point trying to stay together was pointless. We took off together but before we even made it to the tunnel we were separated and on our own. We each made our individual ways home and the 2019 OFMC trip was over.

Biker Quote for Today

Some grandpas play bingo. Real grandpas ride motorcycles.

Bikers along the shore of Yellowstone Lake.

After a three-night stay in Jackpot, Nevada, it was time for us to do some moving. Our next night’s stop was set for Heber City, Utah, and nearly 300 miles away. The plan was to head south to Wells and then take I-80 east through Salt Lake City and on to Heber City. This is not what you would describe as a fun ride–it was just a matter of burning up some miles.

Before we headed out, though, Dennis checked his weather app and showed us that it was projecting heavy thunderstorms all along the I-80 corridor. Was there a different route?

Consulting the map we saw that there was. If we went back north to Twin Falls and then east the way we came on I-84 past Burley we would reach a spot where I-86 split off from I-84. I-86 was the way we had come down from Idaho Falls so we didn’t want that, but I-84 turned southeast to where it hit I-15 a little north of Ogden, Utah. The two roads merged and continued south until, a little south of Ogden, I-84 split off again and made a loop around Salt Lake City to the northeast, terminating when it hit I-80 coming west out of Wyoming. From there we would go west (theoretically–in actuality it was south) on I-80 to where we would jump off at U.S. 40 and go south to Heber City.

Either way we were destined to do a lot of interstate but this route would at least help us avoid Salt Lake and also the possible severe storms. We headed toward Twin Falls.

What can you say about interstate miles? You just ride them. We hit I-15 and went south and as we got closer to the urban areas the traffic started getting heavy. But those folks in Utah don’t believe in driving slow. We were in thick traffic going a steady 80 mph, and don’t you even think about going slower.

Heavier and heavier grew the traffic until we could see, just ahead, traffic at a standstill. Wondrously, this was right at our exit onto I-84 and we pulled into the right-hand lane hardly slowing down and passed all these stopped cars and left them all in our rear view mirrors. Hallelujah!

Now we were on a road none of us had ever been on before. Heck, I didn’t even know this road existed. I-84 cuts through a very pretty area that I’m sure not that long ago was completely rural but is now obviously becoming something of a bedroom community for the metro areas. Sad to see. But it was a very nice ride (for interstate), with sparse traffic and good speeds. I knew that somewhere along the way we were going to have to cut through the hills on either side of us, presumably down some canyon. And I was right.

We turned down this canyon and now it really got nice. And there was a very welcome rest area right there that we availed ourselves of. Rolling again, we came out of the canyon, cruised on a bit further, and hit I-80. The section of I-80 we were on was also pretty nice and in about 13 miles we got off onto U.S. 40.

Now we were seeing the storm clouds we had been warned about. Dead ahead of us it was looking pretty black. The sign said it was only 14 miles to Heber City but we were pretty sure we’d be getting wet. But with only 14 miles, nobody felt like gearing up. We’d just get wet for a few minutes if it came to that.

Then we hit the traffic we had avoided by going around Salt Lake City. This was Friday and everyone in the city was heading to the hills for the weekend. Traffic on U.S. 40 was backed up, stop and go, for miles. If the rain did more than just drip, as it was doing, we’d be drenched. But we got past a lone traffic signal that seemed to be causing the entire back-up and gained some speed again. It was dripping a bit more as we rolled into Heber City but we pulled into the entrance to our hotel and quickly unloaded.

Then the skies opened up. And we didn’t care.

Biker Quote for Today

I use to love the rain because I felt like it made my motorcycles exactly the same as everybody else. At that point it turned into a rider to rider battle. — Kevin Schwantz

We’re not even in the park yet but it’s gorgeous just the same.

Not to take anything away from Yellowstone National Park–it’s an incredible place, no question–but we’ve been there before, as in more than 4 or 5 times. I myself have probably been to Yellowstone at least 15 times over the years. So as we headed out of Cody toward the park the main thought in our minds was, just how terrible was the traffic going to be?

Dennis had aptly noticed that riders coming into town from the west were warmly dressed, so we followed suit. Good plan; the morning was definitely cool.

One thing you need to understand is that the beautiful scenery you come to a park for does not begin at the entrance to the park. You’ll ride 20 miles west out of Cody before you actually enter the park but it is a stunningly beautiful ride. And on this morning, fresh and cool, with–as it turned out–very little traffic, it was heaven.

We got into the park, still expecting but not finding heavy traffic, and enjoyed the relaxed ride. The road runs up and over a line of hills and yes, we did get behind some campers at times, but they usually pulled over and let us pass so it was a good run. Then, approaching Yellowstone Lake, we hit a construction zone. Good-bye pavement.

Because I was on my V-Strom I actually welcomed the unpaved road, but Dennis hates it on his Indian and Bill does not love it on his Harley. No matter; you just have to do it. It’s not like we had any choices. And it wasn’t bad. Dennis and Bill said later they had no problems.

We hit pavement again at Fishing Bridge, where we turned north to run up to Canyon Village. Now we had traffic. This is a stretch where bison are common and yes, we did find ourselves behind a camper that stopped dead in the middle of the road to look at a bison. Really? You can’t pull off to the side at least? This is Yellowstone.

While I blasted on around this guy, Bill and Dennis did not, so I rode for miles with an unobstructed view at my own pace. And yes, there were a heck of a lot more bison further along. With most of the tourists pulled off to look at them, the road for me was largely unobstructed.

At Canyon Village we turned west, heading over to Norris Geyser and U.S. 89, which goes north and on out of the park. Traffic continued to move pretty well so we were making good time while enjoying an easy ride. There were more bison along here, including one big fellow who was lounging pretty much right on top of the white line at the edge of the pavement. So yeah, we steered a pretty safe distance away from him.

Then guess what? More construction zone and unpaved road. Here we go again, only this time it’s a little slick because the tanker truck we saw filling up from the stream apparently just wet the road down to control dust. But that makes things a bit trickier on street tires. Again, though, no issues. The bikes did get dirty.

Reaching Mammoth Hot Springs we passed through the village and found ourselves descending a steep incline down into the canyon of the Yellowstone River. This was when we realized that none of us had probably ever gone this way before. We had been at Mammoth Hot Springs before, but then had turned east to go out the northeast gate and on to the Beartooth Highway. Not this time.

And it was a beautiful ride. Again, the scenery doesn’t stop at the park boundary.

After lunch at Gardiner we continued north just a short distance to where we turned off for Chico and the old Chico Hot Springs resort. This is not a place you’re just going to see riding along, and it was probably a good thing Dennis had his GPS fired up to guide us to the off-the-main-road establishment.

Although we stayed in the old lodge, which features restrooms down the hall as so many old places did, there are more modern facilities where I assume the restrooms are in the rooms. But it’s a grand old place with hot springs pools, restaurants, horseback riding, hiking, and more. We opted to play Frisbee golf which, through the sage brush and going up and down hills, was some good exercise, especially after spending the last three days on the bikes. And then the hot pools were just what sore muscles needed.

Biker Quote for Today

Why bikes are better than women: Motorcycles always feel like going for a ride.

The OFMC (just three of us!) stopped along the road.

It was like the early days of the OFMC when Bill and Dennis and I took off for this year’s trip. Originally the group was three of us–Bill, John, and me. John no longer rides and a lot of others who used to ride with us have gone their separate ways so now we are back to three. We miss the camaraderie of the others but riding with three bikes–rather then ten–is a pleasure.

On a blazing hot day we headed west on I-70 and then north on U.S. 40 over Berthoud Pass and down to Winter Park and Granby. Just west of Granby we turned onto CO 125. This road goes over Willow Creek Pass to Walden, in North Park. I don’t have Willow Creek Pass on this website but after riding it a number of times I have concluded I need to add it. We’ll see if I get it done this year or not.

We have ridden Willow Creek Pass north to south before but I’m pretty sure this was the first time we’ve ridden it south to north, so it was sort of the first of several firsts on a variety of roads on this trip. And it was terrific. A really nice road through a very nice area–albeit with about a million dead pine trees–and almost zero traffic.

We stopped for lunch in Walden and as we were getting ready to head onward three other guys on bikes–younger guys–pulled in. Of course we talked. Like us in the old days, they were out for a week and had no plans as to route or stops. And like us back then, if there were no motels available they had their camping gear. The one difference was that they were on much more capable machines and their gear was probably better than even ours is today. For us in the beginning, gear consisted of two gym bags loaded with stuff tied together and thrown over the seat behind us, plus tent and sleeping bag bungeed on.

Heading north out of Walden we entered Wyoming and made our next stop at Saratoga. All we wanted besides to stretch our legs was shade–it was still blazing hot! Then on to Rawlins for the night.

In the morning we expected more heat so we didn’t put on anything for warmth. We were going to be crossing central Wyoming on U.S. 287 and that is usually a long, hot, dry run. And we got cold. In fact, we stopped twice in the first 80 miles to put on more layers because that heat just never showed up. Meanwhile, it was above 100 in Denver that day.

So north and west on 287 as far as Sweetwater Station and then north on WY 135 to Riverton. Then U.S. 26 to Shoshoni and U.S. 20 to Thermopolis. Then finally WY 120 to Cody, our destination for the day. And just a few miles out of Cody it did finally get hot.

Cody was a bustling place. Apparently the hundreds of motorcycles roaring up and down the main street were there in connection with the Beartooth Rally, which we had not been aware of. Of course, this is why we make our motel reservations in January, and this was not the only time we were glad we had done so.

Tomorrow would be crossing Yellowstone National Park. How ugly is that traffic going to be?

Biker Quote for Today

Do you really have to ask why I would want this big vibrating machine between my legs?? – Anonymous Female Racer

Riding with the OFMC last year.

With John no longer riding, I have taken over planning the OFMC trips. I’m using the license that gives me to push the boundaries a little. On this year’s trip we’re going to be covering a bit more distance than we typically have and we’re going to be out one additional day. And I’m still pushing to make it two.

We’ll be heading northwest so our first night will be in Rawlins. We’ll head up through Walden and Encampment and Saratoga. An easy 250 miles.

From there we’ll cross Wyoming to reach Cody. I’m looking forward to staying in Buffalo Bill’s Irma Hotel, the historic old hotel in town. Those kind of places have become a theme with me so I look specifically for these old places. And this is still only about 260 miles.

Our third day out we will be heading for Chico Hot Springs. We’ll pass through Yellowstone on the way and then out the north gate to Chico. This is one of those places we would never have stayed before because it would have been too expensive. However, traveling with Willie and Jungle has keyed me in on the idea that you want to pick your spots based on interest, amenities, and food. Worry about the cost in your next life. So Chico it is. A short day’s ride at 160 miles.

Then on to Missoula; 265 miles. And this will be the northernmost point on this ride. More importantly, it sets us up for Lolo Pass.

The next day is getting longer: 290 miles. We’ll head out of Missoula, over Lolo, and down along the Lochsa River. Then we’ll do some lefts and rights and find ourselves on roads none of us has ever been on, going places we’ve never been. This is what this trip is all about. We’ll end up in Cascade, Idaho.

From Cascade we have a long day–320 miles, all the way to Jackpot, Nevada. Jackpot is a favorite stop for the OFMC and will be this year’s obligatory gambling stop. We’ll be here two nights because it is also the obligatory golfing stop. They have a nice little course here and we have played it several times.

Then it will be on to Heber City, Utah, a 290-mile day. We’ll be crossing the salt flats and passing through Salt Lake City. Probably not our most favorite day of the trip.

Finally, from Heber City it will be on to Rangely–just 180 miles. Here, John and Friggs, who no longer ride, will drive out to join us for our last night out. Plus, I have suggested that if anyone were interested, we could stay a second night here and play golf again, this time with John and Friggs joining us. Dennis and Bill have said they would be interested, provided that John and Friggs were playing with us, so I asked John what his inclination was.

“I don’t see why Friggs and I have to decide on what we’re doing this far ahead,” he replied. Well, gosh John, no, I guess not, at least not unless it might be good to know whether to make motel reservations for two nights rather than one. And arrange a tee time.

Whatever. Then the trip home will be about 280 miles.

Biker Quote for Today

“I had a girlfriend in college… good to look at, exotic and foreign, sometimes fun, and a lot of fun to ride when she was up for it, but generally, she was a bit of a bitch, with a few fatal flaws that I tried to fix for years until I finally got fed up and called it quits. She was apparently reincarnated into my ’99 Triumph Tiger.” — MapBoy

The OFMC has gotten small again.

The OFMC started out in 1989 with just three of us: Bill, John, and me. Over the years we’ve been joined by brothers, sons, friends of sons, and a few other assorted relatives. Once or twice the group was as big as 11 or 12.

And now we’ve come full circle. There will three of us going on this year’s OFMC trip in July. Bill will be coming, as will I. John will not. Dennis will be. Actually, Brett would be coming with us this year–and presumably will be with us next year–but he recently changed jobs and has to work a full year until he can take vacation time.

So it’s going to be a lot like the old days, only not so much in at least a couple ways.

Back in the beginning we all carried tents, sleeping bags, and foam pads or air mattresses. We may have only used them one or two nights each trip but we had them in case we needed them and there were times we did, indeed, need them. Back then we made no plans or reservations, so it was inevitable that there were times when we would roll into some town and find no room at the inn. Time to find a campground.

We won’t be camping this year. Judy and I still love camping but all the guys have gotten old without us. They don’t camp. Of course, that frees up space on the bike, a whole lot of stuff you don’t need to carry.

What does get back a little to beginnings is that with only three of us we have been able to make arrangements to stay in only one room. In some cases we’ve secured rooms with accommodations for three or even four. In other cases it’s a matter of arranging for a roll-away or a futon. Whoever made the reservation made the decision and takes the roll-away. In the old days our approach was a little different. If we had only two beds, we would take turns with one sleeping on the floor. That’s not going to happen now. Did I mention the other guys have gotten old?

On the other hand, another way things are different is that we will be staying in some fairly expensive places. Back in the day, we were pretty poor and we would go out of the way to go cheap. Standard practice was to roll into town and each of us head to one motel and ask about rates and availability. We would meet back up and make our choice and go check in. Now we’re all retired and money just isn’t the issue it used to be.

And we definitely have made reservations all along the way. You might think (or I might suggest) that with only three we might go back to making it up as we go. You can’t do that when you needs beds for 8 or 10 people but with just 3 . . . Uh-uh. These guys don’t camp and they don’t go off without motel reservations. I told you, they’ve gotten old.

So where are we going? It’s going to be a good trip (when is it not a good trip!?). And I’ll go over the itinerary in my next post.

Biker Quote for Today

Anyone can go fast in a straight line: try going slow in a figure 8.

Tires are pretty important, do ya think?

Have you ever watched the tread melt off your tire? I have. Not literally turning to liquid and dripping off, but being worn off in a matter of hours.

What you need to understand is that motorcycle tires are an entirely different critter than car tires. With car tires you have a broad, almost flat tread that the car rides on top off all the time. Motorcycle tires have a round profile because when you turn, you are leaning the bike. The round profile ensures that you always have tread in solid contact with the ground.

With only two tires, and those having very small contact areas, it is extremely important that you have good grip. Car tires have a hard rubber tread that will last 35,000 miles and more. In order to get a good grip, motorcycle tires use a very soft rubber. And guess what? That soft rubber wears away a whole lot quicker than hard rubber, generally not lasting much more than 10,000 miles.

Then there’s the effect of air pressure in the tires. It’s common knowledge that under-inflated tires wear out quicker, on cars as well as bikes. And while under-inflation can ruin a set of car tires in just a few thousand miles, that’s nothing compared to the soft rubber on motorcycle tires.

Which gets me back to my story.

In the early days of the OFMC, John and Bill and I went one year to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. While there I noticed that I was getting a bit thin on tread and mentioned it to the guys, who looked and agreed I would be needing new tires pretty soon after we got back home.

We only rode on to Page, AZ, the next day, which is about 100 miles. While unloading the bike I happened to glance at my rear tire and I was shocked. What little tread it had just a few hours ago was almost completely gone! I called Bill and John over and they gasped in amazement. Somebody had a tire gauge and when I checked my air pressure it was very, very low.

Of course I put air in, and it’s no surprise I was nervous the rest of the trip about the possibility of a blow-out. Realistically, I should have had a new tire put on right there in Page, but ever the optimist and a cheapskate to boot, I didn’t. And it did get me home safely.

But I tell you what, these days I have it on my calendar to check tire pressure on both my bikes and my car at the first of every month. And if I’m getting set to go on a trip I check the pressure before I leave.

This is really all just common sense, but it’s so easy sometimes to ignore common sense. It is far, far harder to ignore your own eyes when you see the tread vanish from a tire that quickly. We all learned a good lesson that day.

Biker Quote for Today

If you think it’s too dangerous, go home and cut your lawn, and leave us to it. — Guy Martin

This group ride included two Slingshots as well as a Porsche in addition to the bikes.

When I’ve gone on motorcycle trips, that is just what they have been: motorcycle trips.

Until this summer when Judy and I went with a mixed group on a trip to British Columbia and elsewhere. On this trip, in addition to four motorcycles we had two Slingshots and one Porsche. This may have been the first of many.

First off, it wasn’t at all an issue. I’ve always figured it would be awkward with a car along because motorcycles can stop in a lot of places where a car could not. But that’s really not an issue if you recognize this is something that might happen at times but meanwhile everyone knows where we’re headed and can get there on their own.

Secondly, it can be incredibly convenient to have a car at times. Such as when Jungle’s Interceptor died in British Columbia. Because Terry was there with her Porsche it was easy to load Jungle and his bags into the car and drive on ahead to the nearest town with a motorcycle dealership. And then because we had another friend joining us for a few days–in a car–we were able to continue the trip while the bike sat awaiting repair. And finally, Willie was able to ride with Terry while Jungle rode her bike on the trip home.

I then went immediately from getting home from this trip to heading out on the OFMC 2018 trip, and on the fifth or sixth day of that trip Friggs crashed his bike. This spooked him because he had no idea why he crashed and he told us in a day or two that he had decided to give up riding.

However, this came at the point where we were joined by John, one of the original three OFMC members, who has given up riding for health reasons. John said he had considered coming along with us in his truck but didn’t think that sounded all that appealing, all by himself in the truck. If Friggs would like to join him in the truck, perhaps both of them will be back with us next year. And Friggs thought that sounded great.

So all of a sudden, motorcycle trips are no longer looking like just a bunch of guys on motorcycles. And I guess I’m OK with that. But I swear I’ll stay on two wheels to the very end.

Biker Quote for Today

A bad day just makes an evening ride feel that much better.