Passes & Canyons Blog

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.

Taking a road-side break on last year's OFMC trip.

We’re not taking off until July but when you travel with a large bunch of guys you have to plan ahead. Everyone has done their work making reservations so the 2016 OFMC trip is waiting to happen. Here’s the route.

First night will be Cripple Creek. This is a short run for the guys from the Denver area and not bad for John coming from Montrose. And these guys all like to make at least one gambling stop each year so this one comes right at the start.

Our self-appointed trip planner, John, had it in mind to do something very different this year, so when we leave Cripple Creek we will be heading east. All the way to La Junta. We’re riding the prairie!

From La Junta we head down to Santa Fe for two nights with golf intervening. That’s another common characteristic of these trips. It’s nice to spend two nights in one place once during the week.

We’ll leave Santa Fe and come back up to Colorado, to Durango, and then the next day west to Utah to Moab.

The last night will be the expensive one, at a vineyard inn in Palisade. Wine tasting and a concert in the courtyard included.

For John then it will be a short scoot back to Montrose and we’ll jump on the highway and blast back to Denver. Should be a good trip. We haven’t had a bad one yet. We’re all looking forward to July.

Biker Quote for Today

Creede To Slumgullion Pass.

Free Eggs blasted out of Ignacio on his way home, after hearing that his lady friend had broken her foot in a car crash. The rest of us left later, at a much easier pace. Into Ignacio proper, then east on CO 151 through Arboles and up to US 160 a little west of Pagosa Springs. Then up over Wolf Creek Pass to South Fork and northwest on CO 149 to Creede. Here we made an obligatory stop for ice cream. An army may travel on its stomach but the OFMC travels on ice cream. At least if Dennis has anything to say about it.

Then up and over Slumgullion and Spring Creek Passes to Lake City and down to Gunnison. The nearly constant rain and overcast had finally abated and was replaced with sun and heat. Personally, I’ll take the rain and cool.

In recent years we have taken to stopping for two nights somewhere along the line, generally playing golf on our day off from riding. This was our Gunnison stop. We stayed at the Water Wheel Inn, which backs immediately onto the Dos Rios golf course so we didn’t even have to do anything except walk on over to the clubhouse. We liked the course and the motel so I suspect they have not seen the last of the OFMC.

On golf day, however, some members needed to head out so Ray and Johnathon took off. The remaining six played golf, and then most of us enjoyed the weekly catfish fry at the clubhouse for dinner. It was very nice to take a break after riding so much.

Saturday morning came and it was time to split up. John headed west to Montrose while Dennis, Randy, and Bread headed to Denver. I had been in touch with my friend Kevin, who I had just been on another long ride with a few weeks ago, and he invited us to breakfast. Bill and I accepted, so we got a more leisurely start.

Soon enough, though, it was time to roll and we headed toward Monarch Pass. Even on Saturday, however, there was road construction in progress so there were delays. Then at Poncha Springs Bill peeled off to stop at his daughter, Jenna’s, place and I rode on alone. By 3 p.m. I was home, uneventfully, and this year’s trip was over. And I have no desire whatsoever to go anywhere else any time soon. Three long trips in two months has satisfied me. For now.

Biker Quote for Today

Murphy’s Motorcycle Laws: 5. The only part you really need will also be the only part on permanent back order.

Riding Trail Ridge Road.

Our third day of riding on this year’s OFMC trip is done and we’ve gone all of about 450 miles. This is an easygoing trip.

Starting out the first day our meet-up point was the Century Casino in Central City. Bill, John, Dennis, and I came together there and got on the Peak-to-Peak Highway headed for Estes Park. The wind had been gusting pretty hard when I arrived and Dennis especially was concerned about rain, so there was some suiting up before we left. Of course the sun came out brightly as soon as we left so by Nederland it was time to stop and peel off this unbearably hot stuff.

An uneventful, but very pretty, ride brought us to Estes Park where we checked in to the Twin Owls Motel. I truly believe that perhaps 30-50 years ago this may have been one of the premier lodging establishments in Estes Park but boy, this old girl is showing her age. It’s still attractive, with a nice patio and a lobby full of extremely large plants, but the place needs repair and many of the old repairs are themselves in need of repair. Kind of Sad. But a nice view.

In Estes we were joined by two more, Free Eggs and Bread. John tried to speak a text message to Friggs and Bret and his phone interpreted their names in a way we found sufficiently comical to saddle them with those names for the rest of the trip.

A little confusion ensued in the morning as John led the way toward Rocky Mountain National Park. When the lead four made a traffic light and two did not, nobody waited around for us to catch up. A conversation had been held discussing the route but certain of us were not privy to that discussion. So I took the lead and Bread and I headed to the Fall River Road and into the park that way. I knew there were two entrances, however, and suspected the others had gone the other way so we cruised on to where the two roads meet before heading up Trail Ridge Road. Sure enough, they were coming the other way and we met them there.

Trail Ridge was good. Not horrible traffic and not overly chilly. And the elk were having a field day. We saw herds in three different spots and they were out there just prancing and showing off their racks like they owned the place. Which they pretty much do. All the crowds of tourists stopping to look and shoot photos were restricted to the road and the paths while the elk had free run of the whole mountain. Very cool.

Down where that road meets US 40 just outside of Granby we stopped for gas and a break and the new Indian Dennis is riding got a lot of attention. The bike that caught my attention, however, was the one ridden by Dave of Missouri, who pulled in on a 2002 Kawasaki Concours. I’m on my 1999 Concours on this trip so we had to talk and exchange notes. Turns out Dave just bought this bike two weeks ago specifically for this trip he and his buddy are on. We compared gear and I was very interested in his Givi top bag while he was very interested in my highway pegs. He was definitely feeling the lack of those.

Heading west on US 40 we ran into light rain at Hot Sulphur Springs but John, in the lead, made the decision I would have made, which was to keep going and ride out the other side of it. We did get wet going up Byers Canyon, and there were placing when you could just see the rain in the air up ahead of us, but we did ride out the other side and by the time we got to Kremmling we were dry again.

A little past Kremmling we turned onto the road over Gore Pass and it soon became very clear we would be getting wet, so we stopped and suited up. And a moderate rain did come down. But hey, if you don’t ride in the rain you don’t ride. We ride. And by the time we reached Toponas it was pretty well over with.

We turned north from Toponas just the short distance to Oak Creek and that was our stopping point for the day. The Oak Creek Motel is very nice and the two restaurants in town both serve good food. After we had walked over for dinner and were back at the motel the rain started and this time it was coming down pretty hard, along with some powerful winds. We were sitting out under the eaves of the motel when a couple on a BMW came into the parking lot, obviously looking for shelter. Sadly for them, though the motel was not full, the proprietors had turned on the No Vacancy sign, presumably they did not want to be bothered late at night by new arrivals. The beemer folks saw the sign and rode a circle and headed back out. We commented on how that poor guy was probably hearing it big time from his lady friend about why he hadn’t wanted to make reservations. We sure were glad not to be in their predicament.

It was raining in the morning when we got up so we had breakfast and got all suited up. It rained lightly for a while but soon the clouds started to lift. We were heading west on US 40 again and stopped before we got to Hayden to unsuit. On to Craig, Maybell, and Dinosaur and then we were into Utah. The first town of any size is Vernal and that was our destination today. Fourth time I’ve been in Vernal in the last two months. We didn’t have lunch so we had an early dinner and now the guys are out in the pool. It’s hot here! And now I’ve got this blog post written I guess I’ll go join them.

Biker Quote for Today

The only time you’ve got too much gas is when you’re on fire.

Second day out on last year's OFMC trip, near Chadron, Nebraska.

With John having taken on the duties of OFMC trip planning, and me having given up on arguing with him about it, I just wait patiently for him to announce to us all where we’ll be going on our trip this summer.

Well, the word came out the other day and here’s where we’re going.

Friday: Denver to Estes Park – 100 miles on Peak to Peak Highway, through Nederland. Maybe meet in Blackhawk for brunch first.

Saturday: Estes to Oak Creek – 140 miles through through Rocky Mountain Natl. Park, Grand Lake, Hot Sulfur Springs, Byers Canyon, Kremmling, and Yampa.

Sunday: Oak Creek to Vernal – 166 miles on the “Twenty Mile Road” to Hayden and on US 50 to Vernal. It is 300 miles to Vernal for those “short riders” who may join us on Sunday.

Monday: Vernal to Ferron, UT. – 200 miles on new “chosen” scenic motorcycle roads through national forest. Scenic US 191 southwest from Duchesne, UT through “The Huntington Canyon Scenic Byway.”

Tuesday: Ferron to Hanksville – 160 miles on more new “chosen” scenic motorcycle roads through Miller Canyon, Fremont Junction over Hogan Pass, by Fishlake, Loa, and Capital Reef Natl. Park.

Wednesday: Hanksville to Ignacio – 266 miles on more new “chosen” scenic motorcycle roads through the crossing of the Colorado, scenic byway in Fry Canyon, and Reservation backroads to Cortez, through Durango.

Thursday: Ignacio to La Veta – 207 miles on US-160 over Wolf Creek Pass, across the San Louis Valley, over La Veta Pass to that nice little local owned motel by the golf course.

Friday: Golf Day in La Veta!!! – 12 miles to Cuchara and back for a “last supper” with the OFMC after a round of golf at Grandote Peaks.

John’s theme this year is new roads in Utah we haven’t been on. Those are the “chosen” ones, though I’m not clear on the use of that term.

So it sounds good to me. That’s why I quit fighting him about the planning. I do like to have a say in this but he always comes up with good ideas, so just let him have his fun.

What I’m really interested in is the other trips. There are many of us now who can take more than one trip a year and John is supposed to be planning a couples trip and maybe one or two others. I’m looking forward to a good summer.

Biker Quote for Today

A biker can smell a party 5,000 miles away.

It was a little toasty when Friggs broke down in Shoshoni.

Our summer ride continued as planned after leaving the Black Hills–except for one of us. We left Buffalo, Wyoming, and crossed the Bighorn Mountains, through Ten Sleep and Worland, on our way to Riverton.

A funny thing happened on the way to Riverton: Friggs didn’t get there. At least not under his own power.

I was bringing up the rear, with Brett in front of me and Friggs in front of him. The other guys were pulling away up ahead and I was getting annoyed that Friggs was not picking up the speed. Apparently Brett was, too, because he blasted around him. Immediately afterward, Friggs turned on his turn signal and pulled onto the shoulder. I followed. I stayed on my bike while he fiddled with the throttle a bit and then he started moving, slowly, along the shoulder. I followed.

After a ways Friggs picked up speed and we pulled back onto the highway. We hadn’t gone far when Brett came along going the other way, coming back to see what was going on. He turned around and pulled in behind me and we cruised into Shoshoni, where Friggs pulled into the parking lot of the local school. Turns out he didn’t choose to pull over there, the bike quit on him and he coasted into the lot.

Brett and Friggs got on their phones looking for assistance while I walked over to the police department, just across the street, where we nearly got lucky. I explained the situation and asked the officer if there was a towing service in town. He said no, there was not, but right at that moment a tow truck he had called to pick up an abandoned vehicle was 13 minutes late. He was going to Riverton and maybe he could load the bike on, too.

Just then the truck pulled in but the guy had to decline because he had no chains to strap the bike down. So close, no cigar.

So we hung out for the next two hours (it was hot; you can see the temperature on the sign in the photo) until the truck arrived and he had the Fat Boy loaded on. The bike had to go to Lander but he dropped Friggs off with us in Riverton. The next morning we rode on to Lander, John carrying Friggs’s bag and Bill giving his brother a lift. (He ain’t heavy, father, he’s my brother.)

The diagnosis was a broken rocker and there was no way to get parts today. And it was Friday. We left Friggs in Lander, where his lady friend was going to drive up and they would spend a few days vacationing, more or less. When the bike is ready they’ll make the trip back to Denver together. And to my knowledge, this event is still in the future.

We rode on across central Wyoming to Rawlins, hopped on I-80 briefly, and then turned south through Saratoga and Encampment, into Colorado for our night’s stop in Walden. Now here’s a sign of the times: the motel has signs posted saying no marijuana is allowed on the premises. I wonder if that’s legal. The times they are a changing.

Next morning was just the ride home. John headed southwest to his home in Montrose and the rest of us ran down the Poudre Canyon. The Poudre was at its finest, green and beautiful. We turned off on to the Stove Prairie road, figuring to connect with the Buckhorn road and get to Loveland that way but at Stove Prairie the road was blocked saying there was no access to Masonville in that direction.

We turned up toward Rist Canyon but at the top of the hill the road went two ways, something I don’t recall noticing before. I was in the lead and I turned left but that didn’t take us down Rist Canyon at all. It was a steep, curvy road that I liked but the Harley boys didn’t and it dumped us into LaPorte, where we picked up US 287. Most of these guys live on the west side of town so they didn’t want to go east to I-25 and then have to go west again, so we went down 287.

Oh my gosh, what congestion. Fort Collins has grown way south and Loveland has grown way north so there is almost no separation at all between them. And then there’s Berthoud and Longmont and everywhere there is huge growth. Along this route we split and went our separate ways and this year’s trip was at an end.

Biker Quote for Today

When I was younger I was afraid I’d die riding. Now that I’m old and falling apart, I’m afraid I won’t.