Passes & Canyons Blog

John at least knows I stop at the state line and understands why.

I was riding west on I-70 a few years ago with Bret and Randy and I had a flat just east of Rifle. I was in the rear so it was not immediately apparent to them that I was not with them any more. To make a long story short, they made all the wrong decisions and ended up leaving me stranded. When I was able to rejoin them and the rest of the guys very late the next day, neither of them had a word of apology to offer and I was a bit miffed.

If you ride with a bunch of guys for a while you get to where you know who you can trust and who you can’t. While an apology was not received but would have been appreciated, Bret has nevertheless had several opportunities to demonstrate that he took the lesson to heart and has changed his ways. I feel like I can trust Bret now.

Not so Randy.

On this recent OFMC trip there were three times when common biker etiquette was called for and did not come. I’ve spoken many times about how the OFMC is a group that seriously lacks the discipline many who ride insist on. There are guys who do not ride in staggered formation, or even stay in any one position in the road, and there is one guy who target fixates on the rear bumper of the guy in front of him, getting way too close. For those reasons, I prefer to ride last. I can leave as much room ahead of me as I desire and don’t have to worry about anyone behind me doing something stupid. The downside is that if anything happens to me, I’m dependent on the guy in front of me noticing my absence.

One day of this trip I was riding sweep with Friggs right in front of me. We were nearing Cortez when something metallic fell off his bike, without his notice. I stopped to pick it up; it was the rear shifter off his Harley. I stuck it in my jacket and took off. According to normal biker etiquette, Friggs should have been paying attention behind him, and if he had been he would have noticed I was not there. Then he should have slowed down a bit to see if he could spot me, and if not, he should have pulled over and waited, going back ultimately if I never showed up. And that should have started a similar chain reaction ahead of him.

Have I ever mentioned that Friggs is Mr. Oblivious? Friggs truly seems to live in his own world, a world that only occasionally intersects with the one the rest of us live in. It’s like he turns off his brain and just becomes a sheep. You lead, I’ll follow. Don’t ask any more of me than that.

So they reached Cortez and John and Bill decided to pull into a gas station. At this particular station, if you pull in and take a hard hook to the right you can find some welcome shade. Friggs, who had never noticed I was not behind him, did not stop at the turn-in to make sure I saw that they were turning–another violation of etiquette. Fortunately, I was anticipating they might pull off somewhere so I was looking carefully and I did spot them. But I could easily have ridden right by. Thanks Friggs.

We left there and headed into Utah, toward Monticello. I stopped at the state line to shoot photos for the website, thus dropping back again. Randy was right in front of me. It only took a minute but I never caught up with the group until Monticello, where I found them pulled over by a park in the shade. They didn’t stop for me, they had stopped for lunch. If I had broken down I would have been 16 miles behind them before they noticed.

We went on to Moab that day and the next we backtracked a bit to Utah 46/Colorado 90 over the shoulder of the Manti-La Sal range and again I stopped to shoot pictures at the state line. Randy was in front of me again. This time I flashed my high beam off and on but, again, he didn’t notice I was not there. It was 19 miles before they came to a bridge under reconstruction with a traffic signal controlling the single lane. It was only when they stopped at the red light that they noticed there was no Ken. So they waited and I showed up.

So yes, I bring some of this on myself by stopping the way I do, but hey guys, this is just not acceptable. But I know who in this group I can trust and who I can’t, and I don’t see the bad apples changing any time soon. At least I’m forewarned.

Biker Quote for Today

A long ride is the answer to a question you will soon forget.

The Colorado-Utah state line west of Naturita.

Moab is not the town we once knew. Since about 40 years ago we have been going over there en route to Canyonlands National Park or Arches National Park, on a spring camping trip in March. We used to leave after work on a Friday night, drive all night, and roll into Moab around dawn. Sometimes we would have to wait a bit for the City Market to open so we could get our supplies, and then it was off to the canyons. It was a small town, with not much there.

The night the OFMC spent in Moab this year emphasized the changes. The main drag is totally built out with hotels, restaurants, and all kinds of shops. After dark, when the temperature was down to a more bearable 88, the street was swarming with tourists, with very little English being spoken. This place is now an international destination.

So we got off reasonably early the next morning, before the heat could build too much. Rather than take the usual route to the northeast, toward Grand Junction, we headed back south on US 191 to La Sal Junction where he turned east on Utah 46, which becomes Colorado 90 when it crosses the state line on its way toward Naturita. What a nice road! I’m pretty sure I’ve never been on this road before. How have I missed it?

The road runs up on the shoulder of the Manti-La Sal range and then drops down into Paradox Canyon. It’s full of curves and good scenery and then the drop into the canyon is abrupt. Basically, the road just goes over the edge of the cliff and a series of switchbacks carries you to the bottom. Posted speed is 15 mph and they mean it. Plus, we had been running over tar snakes for quite awhile and now the road was covered with them as we made these tight turns. Plus, by now the temperature had climbed a bit, so they were oozy. OK, we’re taking this nice and easy.

The canyon itself was green and beautiful. I stopped at the state line to shoot photos as I always try to do when crossing the line at a new point. I’ll get these shots up on the website soon but for now, that’s the one looking into Colorado above. It was striking because what I have found in almost every case is that at the state line, the beauty of Colorado rarely shows. It’s almost always prairie or barren. This one was an exception.

We followed CO 90 almost all the way to Naturita but then hit CO 141 and turned north toward Uravan and ultimately up to Gateway. This put us on the Unaweep Tabeguache Scenic and Historic Byway, which is always a really nice road to ride. Plus, I’m not sure I’ve ever ridden it in this direction before.

It was blazing hot again by now so we were glad to stop in Gateway for some lunch. The Gateway Canyons Resort used to be a good place for bikers to stop, and had a good many purpose-built motorcycle parking spaces, complete with a concrete pad in each one for your kickstand. Not any more. There is no longer a turn-off from the highway that gets you directly to the restaurant, the old parking area is now grass and fountains and sculpture, and you have to know it is there because there’s no sign. But we turned in the main entrance to the resort and after wandering around and then talking to an employee, found our way to a parking lot and walked to the restaurant. John tells us that while this place used to charge $180 a night, that rate is now up to $500 a night, so that tells you the kind of folks they are catering to. What that also means is that the restaurant serves very good food, and the prices are not exorbitant.

Lunch eaten, we headed east through the Unaweep Canyon and picked up US 50 at Whitewater, jogged north a short distance to CO 141 to Clifton and then on to Palisade for the night. Here we were putting up at the Wine Country Inn where John said they offer wine tasting and live music on Friday nights, which is the day it was. This was another of our pricey stops on the “First OFMC Luxury Trip” and we were very disappointed to learn that they only offer the music every other Friday, and this was not one of those. Heck, that was the main reason we went there. We could have stayed at plenty of other nice places for less than $180 per night if we’d known. Again, though, the food was good and it did offer an included buffet in the morning.

And in the morning it was time to head home. Randy and Bret took off first, being inclined to blast on home. John, of course, had the shortest ride, only going to Montrose, so he took his time. The rest of us were not looking to blast, me especially, because my front tire was running very thin. I had looked at it before the trip and knew it was thin but figured it easily had another 1,500 plus miles on it and I’d get a new one when I got home. I had watched it every day and was comfortable but this last day I was a little nervous. It helped that Dennis looked at it and said he was sure it had plenty of rubber for the day’s ride. But I didn’t want to blast like the younger guys had, just in case. We took our time and made several stops. I got home fine.

And that was that. The OFMC 2016 trip was another in the history books.

Biker Quote for Today

You start a car, but you bring a motorcycle to life.

The view from up high on our side trip.

We stayed two nights at the Buffalo Thunder resort northwest of Santa Fe, with golf the main attraction on the day we didn’t ride. I was looking forward to playing my once a year game but not being tuned to this sort of thing I did not have a collared shirt. They would have been happy to sell me one for $80 but to pay that absurd price just so I could pay $110 to golf was just a no-go for me. Not gonna happen. So I had a pleasant day on my own.

Heading out the next day the forecast was for rain so we opted to go the direct way to Durango, rather than the indirect way via Bandelier National Park and Los Alamos. It’s still a nice ride either way. We went up to Chama and took US 84 up to Pagosa Springs. From there it was just a blast westward on US 160 to Durango. We spent the night there in a hotel close to downtown, which was nice considering the last time we stayed in Durango we were much further from downtown and missed the last bus. So we walked a long way home after a full night of carousing. Not gonna happen this time. Oh, and yeah: it was amazing how many others there were on bikes staying at this hotel. I guess I ought to add it to the Motels and Hotels page on this website.

From Durango we were headed to Moab. After continuing west on US 160 we took US 491 north out of Cortez and crossed the state line west of Dove Creek, headed toward Monticello. We stopped for lunch in Monticello and I was looking at the map. Specifically a Butler map of Utah. And it showed some color on a road that headed straight west out of town and then arced north and back east to where it reconnected with US 191, which was the direct route to Moab. I figured it would only add about 15 miles to our trip but it was a road we had never been on and we were in no hurry.

John thought it looked good, but he had tied one on a bit the night before and I think he was a bit hung over. He preferred to get to Moab as quickly as he could. A couple of the other guys were not interested either. Dennis was, provided it had no gravel. Dennis has ridden more than any of us but he won’t touch a bit of gravel. He doesn’t want to ding up his very expensive Indian.

So we started asking the locals. Looking at the map I was confident it was all paved but we asked. Bill asked one woman behind the counter whose first word when he asked if she knew the roads around there pretty well was “No.” I tuned out and joined Dennis, who was talking to the cashier. She told us it was definitely paved so that seemed good. We went back to the bikes and Bill told us the other woman had said the road was not paved. I reminded him of her “No” but now Dennis was antsy. We were right outside the public library so he went in there to get a third opinion. He came back smiling, saying they said absolutely, it was paved all the way.

I was glad Dennis was up for this because I doubt Bill or Friggs would have come with me if he hadn’t. So the four of us took the side trip.

What a nice road! This was North Creek Road, which climbed into the hills and looped around until it connected with Utah 211. It turned out when we got there that Utah 211 is the main road you take to get to the south end of Canyonlands National Park. We’ve been on that road many times. Of course it’s paved.

But before we got there it went up high to where we had a fabulous view over the entire canyon area. We could see Dead Horse Point and numerous other landmarks. And on this blazing hot day we were high enough that it was actually cool. Those other guys really missed out.

Then we had to descend and it got hot again. Really, really hot. We pulled into Moab and the temperature was about 108. Get checked in, get a quick shower, and head for the pool! Why in the world do we go to these hot places in July? That’s part of another discussion I’ll go into later.

Biker Quote for Today

Keep calm and take a back road.

Stopped along the road south of Angel Fire.

When the OFMC stopped in Raton on the third day of our trip I got gas along with everyone else. Unlike everyone else’s bikes, my Concours has a 7.5-gallon gas tank so when they all filled up again the next day in Red River I did not. We were headed to Santa Fe and I figured I had plenty of gas to get there.

We backtracked through Eagle Nest and down to Angel Fire, where we took a road we’d never been on before. Heck, I didn’t even know this road existed. I had always had the idea that Angel Fire was a dead end, like Telluride. But no, you can continue south and come out a couple different places. We were headed for Las Vegas (New Mexico).

The road quickly got very small, a narrow two-laner, often with no center line. And it got very twisty. Sweet. In fact, if you look at the Butler map of New Mexico they show a portion of this road in yellow, which means it’s very good. It was.

But it wasn’t long, as we rode this nice portion, before we ran up behind a logging truck. Oh great, now we get to go 10 miles an hour for the next hour. But no, the guy was nice and the first wide spot he found he pulled over to let us past.

So we would our way on south to Las Vegas and I was thinking if I had the chance without inconveniencing the other guys I would get some gas just to play it safe. But there was no way to do that with inconveniencing the others. And I knew I could get to Santa Fe. So now I started playing the game of seeing how far I could go before I had to switch to reserve. I was already at around 240 miles on this tank, and that’s about where I usually just go ahead and flip the lever rather than let run dry and start coughing.

But I get very good gas mileage when we’re going slow as we had been much of the way since Raton so I waited. From Las Vegas it was an I-25 blast to Santa Fe so that caused my needle to drop rapidly. And yet, as the miles clipped away the needle was still only in the red, not even near the E. How long can this go on?

Santa Fe was getting nearer but the needle was getting closer to the E. Finally it left the red entirely and buried itself in the E. But still no coughing or stuttering. Long story short, when I finally did get gas on the west side of Santa Fe my trip meter was at 308 miles and I still had not gone to reserve. It took 5.5 gallons to fill my 7.5-gallon tank so I could have gone more than 400 miles on that tank of gas. But more than 300 miles without flipping to reserve? I guess I don’t need no stinkin’ reserve. Except, of course there was that one time when Judy and I did run out entirely. But that’s another story.

Biker Quote for Today

It’s not what you ride, it’s what you ride for.

The OFMC heads into New Mexico.

The OFMC spent the second night of our trip in La Junta, out of the prairie of eastern Colorado but if you think it’s all just flat or rolling grassland you would be wrong. We headed south out of town on CO 109 passing through Commanche National Grassland. Far from flat, this is beautiful country with wide valleys and high tablelands between the valleys. Judy and I had seen this country before when we came down to hike through Picket Wire Canyon, down to the Purgatory River, to where dinosaur footprints remain visible in the rock. It’s absolutely gorgeous.

And it is this same country that we rode south through, including crossing the Purgatory.

When we got south a ways we hit US 160 and turned west. This road runs to Trinidad but we were intending to turn south again into New Mexico, to Capulin Volcano National Monument. So there we were riding along and after awhile we had these beautiful wooded mesas on our left. This is prairie? I kept waiting to see a road because I really wanted to ride up into that extremely inviting terrain. Sadly, it didn’t happen. We finally did come to CO 389 and turned south and while this road was darn nice, it wasn’t what a road through those hills would have been like.

But it was nice. A good two-lane road, almost no traffic, wandering through the hills and down through a canyon, up the other side, and on to Folsom. South then six miles to Capulin Volcano.

Unfortunately it was Sunday and the weekends are when the monument gets the most visitors. We were told we would have to wait our turn to ride up the road that encircles the volcano because there were no parking spaces available at the top. The wait could be an hour. How about if we just ride up and come right back down? No, there’s no place to turn around at the top. Oh really? I’ve been up there before, and we’re on motorcycles for pete’s sake. But they were following the policy someone higher up than them set it place. It’s fun going up the hill, and the views are terrific, but not for us on this day. We left.

Rather than go a couple miles further south to US 64, which is a four-lane highway with a lot of truck traffic, we backtracked to Folsom and took NM 72 west to Raton. What a sweet road! Almost zero traffic, two lanes and twisty, going up high and down low. Vastly nicer than US 64.

At Raton we stopped to get gas and have lunch, hoping that a very dark cloud to the west would pass on by. When we were ready to ride again the cloud had indeed passed by but now the entire sky to the west was looking even more threatening. We headed south a short distance on I-25, then got off onto US 64, which goes to Cimarron and then up a canyon, over a lip, and down into Eagle Nest. This is where you hit the road that encircles Wheeler Peak, with Taos on the southwest, Eagle Nest on the northeast, and Red River at about the northernmost point of the circle. There’s a big motorcycle rally at Red River each year so you don’t have to guess that there’s some good riding around here. Red River was our destination for the day.

First we had to get there. We already stopped and suited up before heading up the canyon. We managed to shoot between a couple clouds but the closer we got the more generalized the rain became. It was just spitting but it was not too soon to stop and put on the rain gear.

Once we got in the canyon the rain became pretty consistent, if still light. But then it got harder. And harder. Pretty soon it was pouring down. I opened my visor a crack to get rid of the fog developing inside and also to let some cool air and the occasional raindrop splatter my face. The rain was no problem but I was getting drowsy and having trouble keeping my eyes open.

Apparently the other guys were not faring as well. Several said, when we stopped at Eagle Nest, that they could hardly see the road to stay on it. Others had rainsuits that seemed not to be doing their job very well, with the front of their shirts dripping wet. I was as warm and dry as could be. Friggs, obviously your new rain jacket is defective. Bill and Dennis, maybe you should have worn something other than your half helmets. John, you’ve got to crack your visor to get rid of that fog. What the heck’s the matter here? None of us is lacking in experience in this kind of thing.

No matter. Just another 20 miles and we were in Red River. We pulled into the lot in front of our motel and the manager, standing out front, said he hoped we had reservations because they were full. Yes indeed, we said, we made reservations in April. Terrific, he said, you got the best rooms in place. And we did. This place is a block off the main street, by the creek, and our doors opened onto the creek. This was a choice spot to spend the night.

Biker Quote for Today

You’re a biker wannabe if you’ve never had to replace a worn out tire.

Heading out of Cripple Creek Saturday morning.

After all I did to make sure I got up to King Soopers at Aspen Park on time I left late and got there late. No matter, Bill and Friggs were much later. Something about a hellacious traffic jam.

No problem, we’re in no hurry. We cruised on south to Cripple Creek and were still the first to arrive. A beautiful day on the bikes and no rain.

John was next, and he was two hours later than us, coming from Montrose. And he got dumped on shortly before he arrived. And then not long afterward, Randy and Brett arrived, with Johnathon along just for the night in his pick-up. You see, the young guys are starting to fray. First it was John and Bill and me and then we added Bill’s brother and their brother-in-law and John’s son and Bill’s son and friends of theirs. Bill’s son Jason dropped away a couple years ago and now Johnathon, John’s son, has done the same. They both have young families and just worry about what might happen to them on their motorcycles to the detriment of those kids. And later Randy, Johnathon’s friend who has been with us a good many years, told us this year may be his last. So we seem to be getting back a lot closer to the core group.

So it was good to get everyone together and catch up, and everyonne had a change to get their gambling urges satisfied. Saturday morning was when the ride really got started.

We headed out of Cripple Creek along Teller County Road 1 and then south on TC Road 11 until it hit CO 9. That’s a really nice back route into and out of Cripple Creek, in case you’ve never been on it. CO 9 then brought us out to US 50 just west of Canon City; we headed east. By the time we got into Canon City it was already so blazing hot that it was time to stop in the park under some shade. Also time to imbibe lots of water and Gatorade to stave off dehydration. It was hot!

Then we blazed on out US 50 toward Pueblo, and on through, headed to La Junta, but before we got there it was highly desirable to stop in another park in Fowler to once again enjoy some shade. Temps were around 105.

A short jaunt took us the rest of the way to La Junta and we checked in the Hampton Inn. This is billed as the first OFMC luxury trip. Gone are the days of camping (long gone) and now also the days of Mom and Pop motels. These guys are just getting a bit too soft in their old age.

Now, as far as I’m concerned, there’s no reason to go all the way out to La Junta if you’re not even going to spend any time in La Junta, and the Hampton Inn was out of the highway just at the edge of town. So while three guys walked two blocks to eat dinner at Taco Bell, the other four of us decided to go to downtown, to Jodi’s, which came highly recommended. And we were in luck–there was a festival going on in town so there was a shuttle running that would take us there and pick us up, for a donation. I would have been fine with riding but the others didn’t want to so we took the shuttle.

A couple blocks from the motel Randy asked what a normal “donation” might be. Esther, the driver, informed us she gets $10 per person plus tips as we see fit. I almost told her to stop the car right there. She was taking us two miles and wanted $40 plus to do it?! But I bit my tongue hard and after we got out and she drove off we exploded. But we needed to get back to the motel after dinner so we were stuck.

Dinner at Jodi’s was mixed. Mine was fine, Randy didn’t like his, and Bret and Friggs were both OK with his. And the decision was made that we had no choice but to call Esther to take us back but she would only be getting a donation of $5 for the four of us. I guess a couple of the guys actually tipped her on the trip over so she was still ending up with $65 for taking us there and back. As we were riding back the most bizarre, extreme weather sprang up so that when we got to the motel we threw her $5 and jumped out of the cab and ran over to where we could see this amazing storm that was blowing in. What Esther thought of the $5 we didn’t know and didn’t care.

But what a storm!! First it was dirt, like from the Dust Bowl days. Wind so strong that a big dumpster went sailing through the parking lot and smashed against a building. Then the rain. Lordy did it rain! And then it all died away and we spent the rest of the evening hanging out in the motel lobby, drinking beer and solving the problems of the world.

The bike trip was off to a good start.

Biker Quote for Today

Why bikes are better than women: If your motorcycle is misaligned, you don’t have to discuss politics to correct it.

Cruising through a mountain town.

Just for the record, it takes 45 minutes for me to get from my house to the King Soopers along US 285 in Aspen Park, which people often refer to as Conifer.

So who really cares about that? Well, I kind of do, because when the OFMC takes off for places this is often our gathering spot. Dennis lives up in the hills and there is no reason for him to come down to town just to turn around and ride back up. So we head up the hill and meet him–and each other–there.

We’ll be doing that tomorrow as we set out on this year’s OFMC trip.

Anyway, we’re supposed to meet there around 10 a.m. and I never want to be the guy holding up everyone else. Now, I’m not anal enough to have made the ride just to see how long it took, but the other day I did do the ride partially to see how long it took. If there hadn’t been another reason I would not have done it; I’d just leave plenty early to be sure I’d be on time.

But it was hot. And I wanted to ride. So the only thing that made sense was to ride up into the hills where the temperature gets lower the higher you go. When you’re just itching for a ride, any destination, no matter how meaningless, is all you need. Hey, I know! I’ll ride up to Aspen Park and see how long it takes!

And then from there it really doesn’t matter where I go because I’m up in the hills.

So I cruised around a bit. Went over to Evergreen and yes, that place was loaded with people and bikes and cars the way it usually is on a Saturday, which this was. If you’ve never been through Evergreen on a beautiful weekend day, let me tell you it’s a spectacle. Lots of motorcycles. And I ended up later in Morrison; same thing. Tons and tons of motorcycles on a beautiful Saturday.

And the best thing of all, it wasn’t blazing hot. How do people live in places where they can’t just scoot off to some place nicer at the drop of a hat? There’s a reason I live in Colorado.

Biker Quote for Today

Don’t wait for life, ride to meet it.

Gearing up before leaving the casino.

Bill contacted us all to ask if we wanted to ride up to Central City for brunch Saturday. Who could say no to that?

I selected the Honda and we met up out in Golden. Cruising up Clear Creek Canyon was a dream–we somehow found ourselves with no one at all in front of us almost the entire way up. Hey guys, time to cruise!

The deal, as always, was to have brunch in a casino and then do a little gambling. The OFMC guys love to gamble, especially Bill, who is almost always a winner. That’s why our summer trip each year always includes a stop in a gambling town.

So we ate and played some slots for awhile and then it was time to head on. I pushed the starter button on the Honda and it cranked over with vigor but just kept on cranking. I hate that.

I tried again and the same thing. I knew it couldn’t possibly be running low on gas–and I opened the tank to confirm this–but I went ahead and threw the lever over to Reserve. Again it didn’t start.

Bill suggested I roll it down the ramp in the parking structure we were in to jump it but I tried once again and it finally caught. Yes!!

We headed out. And we pulled out of the parking garage into a light rain. Bill was in the lead and he turned the corner, went down the block and turned the next corner, and pulled right back into the garage we had just pulled out of. Now, this was the kind of light rain that I figured to just ride through so I was surprised at this move. Their talk quickly explained it to me, though.

These are guys who like to always have their machines sparkling clean. A few raindrops, a little wet thrown up from the road, translates into a lot of time rubbing and spiffing up the bike. As for me, I try, with only partial success, to make a point of cleaning each of my bikes at least every couple years.

Five minutes later the rain was gone but the road was wet. I’m guessing the guys had some cleaning to do when they got home. We headed over toward the Golden Gate Canyon road to come back down and all of a sudden it was a lot cooler than on the ride up. A bit of rain will do that to the air temperature. No matter, I knew it would warm up as we headed downhill.

Except it took a lot longer to get warm than I had expected. I had another layer in my bag but had figured I wouldn’t need it. You never really learn, do you? How many times have you made that mistake? More than a couple I’m willing to bet.

In fact, heading down we were catching up with the rain. Now it was looking like we were going to run right back into it, but just then we reached the turn-off to Golden Gate State Park and the road hooked away to the south and away from the clouds. And it finally started to get warm.

Back down to 93 and we split up and went our separate ways. I stopped and got gas just to be sure. My 5.5-gallon tank only took 2.9 gallons. There was no way I was low on gas. Why did it not want to start? I hope this was just a fleeting thing and is totally forgotten in a short while. But I’ll be holding my breath the next time I ride that bike.

Biker Quote for Today

The reason the front tire lasts so much longer is that it spends less time on the ground.