Passes & Canyons Blog

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.

From left: Bill, Dennis, Brett, John, Friggs, me.

For once on this trip we did not need or want to get an early start, so we got to sleep in a little. Our ride for the day was to be short and we were still hanging with John. It was cool departing but Dennis pulled over within 10 miles to shed a layer, and it quickly got warm.

It was a quick ride to Montrose, then east on U.S. 50. This is a nice ride, with hills and curves, and comes over Blue Mesa Summit to the Blue Mesa Reservoir. We then rode the rest of the way into Gunnison and stopped for lunch.

The weather changed dramatically while we ate. Leaving Gunnison the sky was very threatening and the winds were whipping. I suggested we should try to outrun the weather. Whether or not that was Bill’s intention, he took off and rode hard and fast up the valley. Meanwhile the wind beat on us with malice, with dust so thick at times we could hardly see and gusts shoving me several feet to the right on a number of occasions. This was the only time on this trip I wished I was on the Concours. Those extra 200 pounds would have provided welcome stability.

Whether we outran the weather or just got lucky, by the time we got to the mountain the extreme winds were past but then it got gusty going up the mountain. It also got cold. We blasted up and near the top of Monarch Pass the wind kicked up substantially again and at times it was not one bit of fun. We got over the top and kept on pushing hard but now it was the weather ahead that looked really bad. There was serious wet up ahead. After a stop at Poncha Springs, however, it appeared the wet had already made its way east of our route. I put on my rain jacket for the warmth but it was not needed for dryness. Winds buffeted us at times as we made our way north on U.S. 285 to Buena Vista—our day’s destination—but all in all it was a good ride.

Next day it was homeward bound. The last day’s ride home is almost always anticlimactic. With just 120 miles to go there was no need to hurry; all we felt we needed to do was get home before the afternoon rains began. It was cool so we wondered how warmly we needed to dress but we were getting gas on the outskirts of town so the ride there would give us some idea. And yes, we put on more layers.

Then it was off toward Fairplay and once again the sky was threatening. What’s more, the temperature was dropping. That 35 miles to Fairplay was a chiller! I didn’t know if Dennis, in the lead, was planning to stop there for more warmth but I definitely was. Fortunately, Dennis pulled over at the first opportunity and we all bundled up. It was cold!

Taking off again, Dennis noted that there was probably no reason to stop again. So we rode on to Conifer and he dropped off, then on down to where 285 hits C-470, at which point I went straight and the other guys turned north. My last few miles through the city were now pretty warm but not enough to prompt me to stop and peel off layers. At home I quickly shed the warm gear and sighed a happy smile to be home, with intentions of staying there, after three weeks on the road.

Biker Quote for Today

Sorry, I’m busy. I have to ride my bike.

Cruising into Ouray.

We took off from Silver City this morning in the cool and made good time. We went through some nice farming and ranching land and then got into the Apache National Forest and went up and down and winding around through some beautiful country. And it stayed cool. Early in the day we stopped at a tiny little place and found they had ice cream so 10 a.m. was ice cream hour on this day.

Then we continued north and ran into more chip seal. This road was not all twisty like the one the day before but the chip seal went much longer. It’s about 38 miles from Apache Creek to Quemado and we hit the chip seal after about 5 miles. This was where the work was going on where the overlay was the freshest. It got progressively better–more embedded with less loose stuff–as we went along and toward Quemado it had even been swept, although none of it had been striped yet. I explained that while planning the route I had consulted Chipseal.gov to find where all the work was planned so I could route us through as much as possible (wink). Dennis noted that I had done a fine job in that regard.

By lunch, though, it was hot and the land was still nice but not as nice. These New Mexico highways have 55 mph speed limits and, in the lead, I generally ran at about 65. But later in the day, on a highway with zero traffic, I kicked it up to 75-80 just to burn through these very straight miles. We reached Gallup and found our hotel and kicked back with some beers.

Friggs was feeling amazingly good this morning, considering his crash yesterday. He had expected at least a sore shoulder but didn’t even have that. It’s pretty amazing. The one really telling image though is his helmet. This top quality, expensive helmet is absolute trash, though he will wear it home. All you need to do is look at the side of the helmet and then think about the side of his face and there is nothing at all to be said. No words can ever say as much as that image.

Leaving Gallup the next day we had a long, straight, relatively uninteresting ride north to Shiprock. Yes there are some big rocks around here sticking up hundreds of feet from flat ground but the area is mostly flat and very brown and barren. Then east to Aztec and north to Durango. It gets prettier as soon as you get into Colorado and I was surprised to find that it is only 33 miles from Aztec to Durango.

North out of Durango it gets dramatically beautiful quickly. Up to Silverton over Molas Pass and then to Ouray over Red Mountain Pass. The Million Dollar Highway. There was construction in places on U.S. 550, so at times it was pretty slow going. Of course, if you were behind Friggs—which I was—it was all slow going. After his crash the other day, Friggs is spooked and not at all confident on the mountain curves.

Then there were the idiots. We got behind a tanker truck over Red Mountain Pass and traffic piled up behind us. We’re not crazy, nor did we have any reason to rush, so no problem. But several idiots sped past us and then proceeded to pass the truck on blind curves with double yellow lines. If someone had been coming the other way there would have been slaughter. It was only luck that kept everyone alive. What is wrong with people?

Reaching Ouray, our day’s destination, we found our motel and awaited the arrival of OFMC co-founder John, who was missing his first ride in our 30-year history. Health issues have forced John to give up riding but he lives just a few miles north of Ouray so he came to join us for the night. The first thing Friggs did when John arrived was to tell him about his crash and how he has decided to give up riding after we get home. This was the first time Friggs had stated such an intention, though I had wondered if he was having thoughts of that sort.

In discussion, however, John mentioned that he had thought about continuing to come along, in his truck, but didn’t think driving alone was all that appealing. But if Friggs would like to ride with him then by golly, the two of them could be right back with the group again next year. Friggs jumped at that suggestion so that may well be the way we go next year.

Biker Quote for Today

Motorcycles: more spacious than a car.

Friggs (right) and Bill inspect Friggs’s bike after his crash. Note his jeans and shirt.

We left Ruidoso early to take advantage of the cool and made good time down the mountain, to Alamogordo, and across the White Sands valley to Las Cruces. Then we turned north on I-25. I toyed with proposing to the guys that we go the 36 miles south and cross the border into Mexico, just to do it, but I didn’t. I realized later that none of us had our passports so we couldn’t have done it anyway. Years ago, on the eighth OFMC trip, Bill and John and I crossed into Canada for about an hour, just so we could say we did. Nevertheless, Las Cruces for me was about 1,500 miles south of where I had been in Canada, on a bike, just nine days earlier.

We got off I-25 at Caballo and headed west through Hillsboro on New Mexico 152 to ride “The Snake,” New Mexico’s answer to the “Tail of the Dragon.” But before we even started to climb we ran into a chip seal in progress. We actually waited on the pilot car on a surface that had only been spread with gravel earlier that morning.

The chip seal went all the way to the top of Emory Pass, probably two-thirds of the fun, twisty road we came to ride. The fun quotient was radically reduced. We made the ride slowly and carefully and I was so glad I was on the V-Strom. I can’t imagine how unpleasant it would have been on the Concours.

We stopped at the view area at the top of the pass and then started down the other side on the good, clean asphalt. I was in the lead and a short while later I was not seeing Bill behind me. I slowed and Bill caught up but he had his turn signal on so I pulled over in a good pull-out. He told me he had not seen the others behind him for too long, so we waited there a few minutes for them.

After about five minutes we headed back, fearing we were going to come around a bend and see something we were really hoping not to see. And the further we backtracked the more our apprehension grew.

Finally there was Friggs headed the other way and he gave us the OK signal. We kept going until Dennis and Brett also passed and we turned around. Obviously we were hoping to find them all stopped somewhere waiting for us and we did, in the same pull-out where we had first stopped.

Friggs had crashed. He was OK, a little skinned up with ruined shirt and pants and boots. Probably looking at a very sore shoulder tomorrow. He had been down-shifting as he headed into a curve and in the blink of an eye he was on the ground. He had no idea why. Dennis had been ahead of him and thought he heard a bang. When Friggs did not immediately come around the curve after him he turned right around. As Dennis rounded the curve he saw Frigg’s bike laying in the middle of the road and Friggs dragging himself out of the road.

The two of them tried without success to stand the bike up but a guy in a car stopped and the three of them got it up. This was just when Brett reached the scene after turning back.

So, only cosmetic damage to the bike and nothing significant with Friggs. But what a scare! This is the first time in the 30 years the OFMC has been taking these trips that someone has gone down. Sure, we’ve dropped bikes but we’ve never had a crash.

The rest of the ride in to Silver City was uneventful but oh, man, we sure had a lot to talk about over brews at the end of the road on this day.

Biker Quote for Today

Sometimes adventure isn’t fun while it’s happening — Mark Tuttle

Ride we must.

Leaving Angel Fire, we got an early start to beat the heat, and cruising down New Mexico 434 was sweet with the extremely narrow—barely more than one lane—and very twisty and sometimes amazingly steep sections. But the state is “improving” this road so it may not be so sweet for long. Go ride it soon–it’s a nice road.

We reached Las Vegas (New Mexico) and it was getting warm. A quick jog on I-25, then off on U.S. 84 and just start burning miles. At times, for no discernible reason, the speed limit drops for long stretches from 65 to 55. But all the traffic was screaming past us so we did 70, too.

Lots of drivers were absolutely blasting, passing us and continuing at 90 to 100. And one guy in a big pick-up hauled past us but not in time to get all the way past when another car approached from the other direction. He could have pulled in between two of us but he chose to stay in the oncoming lane and forced the guy coming to swerve onto the shoulder. Insane.

By the time we were getting within 100 miles of the day’s destination, Ruidoso, the temperature was hitting 100. So glad we started riding when the temp was about 60.

At a gas stop at Vaughn we were approached by a group of Christian Motorcyclists Association folks, who were doing their thing and asked to do a blessing of our bikes. I stood off to the side and when one of them approached me I said, “I’m not a Christian.” He said, “That don’t matter,” and I replied, “It does to me.”

We got into Ruidoso and I was leading the group to our hotel and as I came to an angular intersection, on a slope, I had my head turned way, way to the left to look for traffic and just dropped the V-Strom right there. Now, all the guys were there to help me lift it right back up, and there was no damage at all, so it was essentially a non-event. But it was annoying. That’s twice now in just a couple days I’ve dropped that bike. Still, if that’s the worst that happens on this trip I can live with that.

And then we arrived at the Inn of the Mountain Gods, and as we were checking in they brought us complimentary margaritas. On this blazing hot day that was truly a nice touch.

There was no travel the next day. We stayed two nights in Ruidoso and played golf and gambled and I hit the biggest win of my life–$280 on a single 60-cent spin. I’ll take it, thank you. This was the first day in 18 days that I did not get on a motorcycle.

Biker Quote for Today

Some will walk through the Pearly Gates and some will ride.