Passes & Canyons Blog

A larger OFMC in 2013.

The OFMC started off as just three of us, John, Bill, and me. Over time it grew to where we once had about 11 guys on our annual ride. Now we’re back to three: Bill, Dennis, and me. As this year’s trip nears I’ve been thinking about all those guys who came and left.

The big number one is John. John got this thing started. He was the first of us to buy a motorcycle, and after riding behind him for a while I figured I had to buy my own bike. When Bill saw us having so much fun he decided he needed one, too, and the OFMC was born.

So why is John out? Age and health. He’s suffering from macular degeneration as well as a number of other health issues. He has finally grown into the original name of the group, Old Farts Motorcycle Club. We weren’t old farts when the name was chosen with tongue in cheek but he has definitely gotten old now. We’re sorry to lose you John.

Not everyone ages at the same rate, however, and Bill and I are both much younger than our years.

Johnathon, John’s son, was the fourth member of the group. John bought a new Honda Shadow and gave his old Yamaha Virago to Johnathon. So Johnathon started coming along. After a number of years though, he felt the pressures a lot of dads of young families feel: his kids need a dad and motorcycling is too hazardous. So he gave it up, and has not come back.

Bill’s son Jason followed a similar arc. His dad gave him the old bike when he bought a new one and he rode with us for a few years. Then he decided he needed to do the dad thing and choose his kids over the bike. Jason, however, was recently given another bike and is riding again. But he’s still not coming on the trip; too much of a time commitment for someone with a family and not a lot of vacation time.

Friggs was the fifth member of the group. Friggs is Bill’s older brother and while he is in good health, he took a spill down in New Mexico a couple years ago and that convinced him to give up riding. He’s not the first to make that decision.

Back in 2004 we were joined by Todd, who was the friend of Jason. We figured Todd would become a regular but a couple months after the trip he got in a very serious crash and that was it for Todd. No more riding.

Along the way Dennis joined us. Dennis is married to Friggs and Bill’s sister Janice. And Dennis is still with us.

Randy was a friend of Johnathon’s and he came with us for a good number of years, even after Johnathon dropped out. But now he has just faded away. Didn’t come a couple years ago and not since; no real explanation.

Brett was a friend of Jason’s as well, and he came along for plenty of years. He doesn’t have any kids but following a divorce and a new wife he seems to have concluded he would rather spend vacation time with her than with us. So he has faded as well.

Brett has a brother, Matt, who came with us one year, but I think he felt he was a bit young to be hanging with the geezers so he never came back.

Ray is the cousin of John’s wife, Cheryl. Ray is a hard-core biker and he joined us on a couple occasions but with John out I doubt we’ll be seeing Ray again, although he definitely still rides with his own group.

That’s where we stand today. I expect the three of us to continue riding for many years yet. Maybe Jason will rejoin us in a few. Who knows, maybe Johnathon, too. Or maybe someone else–you never know.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker if when you plan a vacation you set up time to visit the bike shops first.

Jason’s new bike is a 2014 Harley Road Glide. That’s him on the right.

The OFMC has grown and then shrunk. We started out as three and we are three again. One of the guys who rode with us for many years was Jason, Bill’s son, but he had young kids and gave up riding, doing the dad thing.

Well, Jason is back. For one things, his kids are older, and both boys are now taller than he is. But more importantly, his former boss gave him his Harley. Sort of.

It’s not an altogether happy story. Jason worked for this guy, Don, and Don treated Jason like a son. Recently Don died. Don’s widow gave the bike to Jason. This is a 2014 Harley Road Glide and to make it official Jason paid one dollar for it and has a bill of sale and the title.

Not that he’s going to start coming on the OFMC trips again, at least yet. He still has limited vacation time and finds it hard family-wise to give over one whole week to the bike trip. But he’ll once again be joining us on day rides, such as the one we did Sunday.

It wasn’t all that much of a ride. As far as I can tell, most of Bill’s riding other than the annual trip is from his place on the west side of town up to Black Hawk to a casino or two for lunch and some gambling. I wasn’t sure what the plan was on Sunday but that turned out to be it. So we gathered, as we do, at the Starbucks near Bill and headed on up Clear Creek Canyon.

We got to Black Hawk but kept going to Central City because Bill had heard that he Century Casino up there was open. That turned out to be incorrect. That didn’t altogether disappoint me because I’ve been laying low pretty much and if there is only one casino open, how likely is it to be packed? Once they all open up it will be different.

Still, things are opening up and people are being less cautious. In our group it was really four members of a family and me. There was Bill, his son Jason, his sister Janice, and Janice’s husband Dennis. They were not socially distancing at all between themselves and my uncertainty resolved immediately when Jason reached out to shake my hand. That was the first hand shake I’ve had in a long time but I hadn’t seen Jason in several years. He extended his hand and I took it.

This ties in with my evolving concept of social distancing. I’m figuring that going forward we need to not unnecessarily expose ourselves to potential infection but in this case it was a group who see each other regularly and who know that none in the group has been sick. Plus, if one of us does get sick we will know to inform the others so they can get tested. It’s not that way with strangers.

The point here, too, is that we’re still planning the 2020 OFMC trip, in about six weeks, and there is no way I’m going to be distanced from Bill and Dennis for this whole trip.

So anyway, with the casino closed we noticed that another one, Dostal Alley, was open in the back serving food and drinks at tables set up in the parking lot. We had lunch. Then we headed up the Peak to Peak to the Golden Gate Canyon road and headed back down. Great day for a ride. Nice to ride with Jason again.

Biker Quote for Today

Why motorcycles are better than men: Motorcycles don’t grow huge beer bellies.

If you spend time out on the road, something is bound to go wrong sooner or later. Then what?

OK, first let’s address the question, is it jury-rigging or jerry-rigging. We’ve all seen both. A quick search took me to Dictionary.com where I found this bit of clarification:

Jury-rigged means something was assembled quickly with the materials on hand. Jerry-built means it was cheaply or poorly built. Jerry-rigged is a variant of jury-rigged, and it may have been influenced by jerry-built. While some people consider it to be an incorrect version of jury-rigged, it’s widely used, especially in everyday speech.

So I’m going with jury-rigged.

On to topic.

Things go wrong sometimes, don’t they? And when you’re miles from home with no help nearby you just have to figure out how to make things work. Anyone who has done much traveling by motorcycle surely has run into this a time or two.

My first was early on in the life of the OFMC. Bill and John and I were heading for the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and I had taken my bike in for some significant work well in advance of the trip. Long story short, after promising me for weeks that it would be done in time it was not and Bill and John left without me. About three days later I finally had my bike and I took off to meet up with them at the North Rim.

I rode that first day to Durango, where I intended to spend the night with a friend and her husband. I had not gotten far when I discovered that the shop had failed to put one of my highway pegs back on. I really, really like highway pegs and I have them on all three of my bikes. But what could I do?

I mentioned this to the folks in Durango and he went out and got a six-inch length of aluminum tubing and some duct tape and presto, I had a highway peg where before there had been none. Thank you so much Neil. That thing held just fine for the whole trip and believe me, I used it.

A few years after this we were ready to head out and Bill was late. Finally he called (this was before cell phones) to say his bike had died on his way over to John’s house–could we come give him some assistance?

After nearly killing ourselves pushing him up and down this parking lot he finally got the bike started and headed off to his mechanic. He called later to say it was his stator and the bike would not be fixed soon. John and I took off without Bill.

I can’t remember but we must have had some arrangement to stay in touch because in a day or two we got word that Bill would be meeting up with us in Thermopolis. Great. When he showed up he explained to us that he still had no functioning stator but he had a battery charger and a long extension cord and he had removed the fuse powering his lights. The idea was to use as little electricity from the battery as possible all day and then fully charge the battery overnight. That’s what he did and the rest of the trip was uneventful. Needless to say, we didn’t do any night riding.

John was always into jury-rigging something on his bike. Back in the early days, when we all had bare bones bikes, none of us had throttle locks. Nowadays, we all consider throttle locks or cruise control to be essential. And sure, these things were available but they cost money and we were all pretty poor.

So John got a Popsicle stick, drilled a hole in the end through which he tied some string, and tied the other end to his handle bar. While cruising down the road he would shove this stick between the grip and whatever was next to the grip, wedging it in there so when he would release the throttle the thing would not rotate back off the gas.

These were simpler days. In this current day, any one of us would simply pull out the card and pay for whatever it is we want/need. It’s easier but I’m not sure it’s better.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker if every time you spend money, you think about what you coulda bought for your bike.

The OFMC stopped along the road a couple years ago.

The OFMC–at least the three of us who remain–now have a route set for 2020.

Now that I’m the designated planner, this is a consensus thing. Last year it was agreed that everyone was fine with doing some longer days and going farther. This time around the guys say they would prefer shorter days and also like the idea of staying in one place for three nights. You got it.

We’ll be leaving Denver on a Friday and cruising down to Alamosa. On Saturday we’ll go further south, to Espanola, New Mexico. This will be our three-night stop. What does Espanola offer to make it worth three nights? Well, everything the OFMC looks for.

First off there is an Indian casino hotel where we will stay. A gambling stop is a must on OFMC trips. Second, Espanola has what appears to be a spectacular public golf course. A golf stop is also an OFMC must. And third, Espanola is in a spot where there are several very good options for day rides. So one of the two days we stay there will be for golfing and the other for riding. Arrive–night one; golf or ride–night two; golf or ride–night three; leave.

The OFMC started out with just Bill and John and me. Then it grew, and then it shrunk. We’re back to three now, and Dennis has replaced John. But John lives outside Montrose and he said he and his wife, Cheryl, will almost certainly be interested in coming down and joining us in Espanola for some golf and gambling. So that will be fun.

From there we’ll head up to Durango and the next day on to Monticello, Utah. The day after that a very scenic route will take us to Hotchkiss, Colorado, for a favorite stop at the Hotchkiss Inn. Then the last night will be in Leadville before heading on home.

So. No long days, gambling, golf, three nights in one place, lots of good riding. My job here is done.

Biker Quote for Today

Why bikes are better than women: Unlike women FAT motorcycles aren’t cheap dates.

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