Passes & Canyons Blog

We made it to the Pacific.

Probably the most ambitious trip the OFMC ever made was in 1999 when we decided it was time to head for the ocean. The Pacific, to be exact. California here we come.

Normally we would leave on these trips on Friday and return on Saturday but for this we left all of one day earlier, and not even early in the day. We hit the road at 2 p.m., heading west on I-70. Where we were promptly hit at about Silver Plume by what may still be the biggest deluge we ever encountered. But by now, this being our eleventh year, we were prepared, had good rain suits, and we just rode right through it. I do recall vehicles going the other direction sending huge walls of water over the median barrier onto us.

Despite our late start we got to Green River, Utah, that evening. The next–very hot–day was just blasting on I-70 to Ely, Nevada. These are the days when you appreciate the pool at the motel.

We were a little wary of crossing Nevada on US 50, the Loneliest Road in America, but it was actually pretty nice. Clouds were appreciated. But we had to pay the incredibly high price of $2 a gallon for gas! Outrage! We made it to Lake Tahoe that day, staying in South Tahoe, in California, where it was cheaper, and we walked into Nevada to gamble.

The next day we looped around Lake Tahoe and crossed Donner Pass on I-80. A short while later we got off the superslab onto CA 20 through Yuba City and on to Calistoga. This was the day when we first experienced some of the tight, twisty, up-and-down roads that California is famous for. Calistoga was a good stop: good food, a decent motel, and alcoholic beverages, of course.

Then we crossed into the Napa Valley, but we didn’t stop for wine tasting, we kept going until we crossed over into the Alexander Valley, also wine country. We stopped at Alexander Valley Vineyards and tasted a few wines and I just had no choice. I bought a case and had it shipped home. With the shipping, I calculated later that I only paid about double what I would have paid buying the same wine at home. But to this day I continue to buy Alexander Valley Vineyards wines.

After a night in Healdsburg we headed to Lake Sonoma Recreation Area where I knew one of the sweetest roads in California. The Stewart’s Point Skaggs Springs Road is so out of the way and sparsely used that a lot of it is one lane. It loops through the forest with so many curves that Bill said later it made him a little sick to his stomach. But then it comes out onto Highway 1 right at the coast. We had made it to the Pacific.

We turned north and headed up to Mendocino. Then we got a real taste of what Mark Twain was talking about when he remarked something to the effect of, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a week in San Francisco.” Fortunately for me, by that time I had my electric vest and had brought it along. Bill and John have never acquired heated gear. I don’t understand why not. I love my vest and my heated gloves.

North of Mendocino, Highway 1 goes inland and we were not unhappy to say good-bye to the coast and coastal weather. We spent the night in Redding at a motel that turned out to be a long-term stay place for what looked like some families just scraping by. No problem; nice folks. Just not what we expected.

The next day we passed through Lassen Volcano National Park and turned south on a series of roads that eventually brought us to Reno. Stayed the night in Reno and then it was back across the Loneliest Road in America for another night in Ely. Bill had fun this day. His Shadow had a very low center of gravity so just like a bicycle, he could ride with no hands. He tested to see how far he could go without touching the handlebars and his best shot was about 35 miles.

The next day was just a hard day of riding, back to Green River. Then Bill went all the way home while John and I stopped for the night in Grand Junction with a friend living there, and home the next.

This was a trip full of hard days of riding. I rode my 1980 Honda CB750 Custom with its stock seat and my butt was really sore by the time we got home. Shortly afterward I bought my 1999 Kawasaki Concours and I rode it out to coffee one day with the guys. Hey, when we leave, I told them, you have to see the new seat I got. I walked them out to the Connie telling them, yeah, the seat cost me one heck of a lot but they threw in the whole rest of the bike at no extra charge.

Biker Quote for Today

No therapy in the world can do what burning a tank of gas, chasing the setting sun can do for you.

We had a big group for a while.

When the OFMC got going–before we even came up with the OFMC name–there were three of us: John, Bill, and Ken (me). John had bought a bike, so I bought one, so Bill bought one. Soon enough we decided we needed to go somewhere on these fine machines. That was 1989.

Things took a new twist in 1998 when John’s son Johnathon joined us for the first time, riding the old Yamaha Virago his father had given him when he moved up to his Honda Shadow. That started a chain reaction.

In 2000 Bill’s brother Friggs joined the group. The funny thing is, he didn’t even own a bike at that time. Instead, he rented a Harley. The rental had an “unlimited miles” note in the paperwork but when Friggs took the bike back after the trip the rental guy grumbled that unlimited miles didn’t mean that many miles. Oh yeah? Friggs bought a Virago shortly after the trip.

Then in 2004 things exploded. Bills’ son Jason now joined us and he brought along a friend, Todd. Johnathon also brought his friend Randy. It was also the first trip for Bill and Friggs’s brother-in-law Dennis. Now it was getting too big a group to just be showing up in some random town expecting to find enough motel rooms, but that was a lesson we learned on this trip, not beforehand.

In 2006 Johnathon brought another friend, Brett, and we had the biggest group yet. So we’ve got three original guys, one brother, two sons, one brother-in-law, and a fluctuating line-up of sons’ friends. In 2010 Matt, a brother of one of the friends (see how it spreads!) came along. Finally, in 2015, John’s wife’s cousin Frank joined us and we had the biggest group ever. From there the OFMC began to shrink.

Johnathon and Jason were the first to drop out. They were both young married guys with families and they made the decision that they needed to put their families first and not risk getting hurt badly or killed. Several of the friends fell away then, too. By 2017 we were down to John, Dennis, Bill, Friggs, Brett, and me.

In 2018 John, one of the three founders, did not come. His health issues had gotten too serious and he had sold his motorcycle. The end of an era. Then in 2018, on a clean, smooth road, for no knowable reason, Friggs went down. He escaped serious injury–thank goodness for his helmet–but after finishing the trip he sold his bike and has never ridden again.

Then in 2019 it was just three of us again, Bill, Dennis, and me. That continued until 2022 when we were joined by Bruce but Bruce didn’t make it in 2023 or 2024 so at the end it was just us three. Same number as we started with, two of the same guys. Can’t say for sure yet but it looks like that’s the end. At a poker game recently John asked if there would be a ride next year and I listened keenly to the replies Bill and Dennis gave. Dennis was non-committal, probably waiting for Bill to answer, and Bill said he was not inclined to. But he didn’t say a positive no. We’ll wait and see.

Biker Quote for Today

Motorcycling is like talking; the road speaks, and my heart understands.

Our first time playing golf on the OFMC trip. And that’s the bridge over the Snake River Canyon in the background.

In the early days of the OFMC we didn’t plan our trips. We’d basically get together at someone’s house and ask “Where do you want to go?” And then we’d head off in whatever direction.

Of course this led to some problems sometimes. Like when we figured to spend the night in Laramie and found when we got there that because Frontier Days was in full swing over in Cheyenne, all the motels in Laramie were completely booked. But this was back in the days when we carried camping gear so we just went to the local KOA and spent the night there. Another time we got to Pinedale, Wyoming, to find that Pioneer Days was going on. In that case we got lucky and found the last available motel room in town.

This sort of thing doesn’t happen any more because we plan ahead and make reservations well in advance.

Then there are the times when we would decide in the morning to head somewhere and something would come along to make us think, forget that, let’s spend some time here. An example of that was the first time we stayed in Jackpot, Nevada, and heading north from there the next day we were headed somewhere. That changed when we came to Twin Falls, Idaho, and found ourselves crossing the Snake River on a high bridge. To our amazement, way below on the canyon floor was a golf course. A really beautiful looking golf course. Oh my gosh, we have to check this out.

So we crossed back over and found the road to the bottom of the canyon and walked in the pro shop. Would it be possible to get a tee time yet today? Yes it would. Oh my gosh, let’s go find a motel and stash our stuff and come back and play a round. Which is what we did, having traveled all of about 35 miles that day. And ever since that stop we have made it a point to spend two days somewhere along the way with a day off from riding to play golf.

Another time we had been in Deadwood, South Dakota, and were heading in the direction of the Bighorn Mountains when we came through the town of Hulett, which is right near Devil’s Tower. There was something about this little town that captured our hearts and so after riding only 67 miles we checked into a motel we spotted and spent the day in Hulett.

The first time this kind of thing happened, though, was on a trip where Bill had problems and could not join us so it was only John and me. We made a stop in Salt Lake City to visit our friend Christopher and found ourselves in heaven. Christopher was living with his brother Wesley in a little house with a deeply shaded backyard and we discovered for the first time the secret the original inhabitants of this region of the country learned many centuries ago: If you have cooling shade and free air movement it can be blazing hot and you will be as comfortable as you could ever imagine.

It was utterly delightful. We bathed in the freshness, the exquisite luxury of a totally peaceful situation, and we had absolutely no choice but to stay a second night. That next day was just as heavenly so we stuck around but did decide later in the day to load Christopher on John’s bike and blast the super-straight road west over the Salt Flats to Wendover to do some gambling. After giving Nevada the cash we figured we could afford we blasted back across the flats in the dark cool of the night and spent some more delicious time in Christopher and Wesley’s backyard before turning in for the night. The next day we did finally leave.

And then on another trip the same thing happened twice in a row. We came to Taos and found a super sweet motel where we had a large cottage with patio and grill and lots of shade. We liked it enough to stay two nights. From there we headed back into Colorado, and passing through Cuchara we saw a very inviting golf course and went back into Cuchara and found a room so we could golf the next day.

This kind of thing just doesn’t happen when you have your trip totally planned out in advance and reservations are made. Which is to say, this sort of thing hasn’t happened with the OFMC in quite a few years. But that’s one reason I like traveling alone. I never make reservations when I’m traveling alone and I do still carry camping gear. So I go where and when I want to go, and stop where and when I want to stop. That is freedom.

Biker Quote for Today

In my helmet, dreams are stored, and riding releases them into the wind.

The RMMRC taking a break on a ride several years ago.

For the first 20-some years of my motorcycle riding the only “club” I rode with was the OFMC. And I put that in quotes because we weren’t really any kind of organized club, we were just a group of friends who liked to ride motorcycles. But over the years a lot of the guys gave up riding, and those who didn’t give it up just seemed less interested in doing much of it except for the annual trip.

That’s not me. I generally ride a lot and if I have someone to ride with that’s great, if I don’t I never hesitate to take off on my own.

But it is nice to have a group to ride with, if for no other reason than having group rides set up by numerous people gives you a lot of opportunities and also can take you places you didn’t know were there.

Enter the RMMRC, or Rocky Mountain Motorcycle Riders Club. I joined the RMMRC in 2016 and right from the start I suddenly had a lot of great riding opportunities and also was meeting a whole bunch of good guys. Also some women but mostly guys.

Now, I have been a member of ABATE of Colorado for more than 20 years and they do some rides and I’ve been on a few but those are almost entirely the large group, poker run type of rides. And I’m not interested in that kind of thing. So even though I attended monthly meetings for years I never really got to know most of those people and there were plenty who I know on sight but even now don’t know their names.

Not so with the RMMRC. All it takes is to go off on a four-day ride, eat meals together, share motel rooms, and just generally hang out and you learn people’s names and you do get to know them. So I’ve made a bunch of friends and had some really good times.

But things are changing. As opposed to every other summer since I’ve been a member, there have been precious few rides being planned. As a consequence, I haven’t been riding nearly as much as I usually do. And why is this?

I hate to say it but it’s age. The RMMRC has dwindled seriously since I joined. A number of the members have died. Others have just reached the point where they physically cannot ride any more. And now there are several of the really core members who are battling cancers and other serious–and deadly–illnesses and lord knows how long they’ll be with us.

And we’re not getting new members. The only new member I can think of in the last couple years was John. He was a great addition to the group, very enthusiastic and eager to ride a lot. And he is one of those now facing serious health issues.

When I joined I would go to meetings and there would be between 30 and 40 people attending. We would have special rooms of our own at restaurants to hold the meeting. At the August meeting this year there were 8 of us and we were at a couple tables out in the main restaurant. The restaurant was no longer willing to give us a separate room with a dedicated server; we’re just an eight-top.

So I’ve told myself a thousand times that if no one else is organizing rides then I should set some up. But it doesn’t happen. I beat myself over the head for it, saying just do it you idiot, but I don’t obey myself.

Recently we did a joint ride with the local BMW club, which is now headed by Sara and Sean, who used to be RMMRC members. I wondered if this was the beginning of a move to merge the two. But that was a big group on that ride, 30 or more, and again, I really don’t like riding in that big a group. So I soon peeled off on my own. If we do end up merging I’ll give it a shot but I’m not enthusiastic.

Which gets me to the title of this piece. Is this how a club dies? I know Judy is facing a similar situation in a club she belongs to. All the core members are getting old and there are few new, younger members to keep it going. I guess time will tell.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker when your butt hurts, your back is killing you, you can t feel your hands or feet, and when your buddy asks you if you want to take a break you look him straight in the eyes and say HELL NO LET’S RIDE!!!!!

That’s Dennis between my old Concours and his old Indian. That’s Bill back by his Harley.

It happens as you get older. You eventually find you don’t need all the stuff you’ve accumulated and you start thinning the herd.

Dennis is the latest with stories to tell. He and Janice had lived up in the hills off Deer Creek Canyon Road but had decided it was time to move down into town. They bought a pretty dang nice–but much smaller–place over in Arvada and are pretty happy with it, but . . .

The “but” for Dennis is that the place they left had an oversized three-car garage. He and Janice each have a car and they each have a motorcycle. No problem at the old place. Big problem at the new place.

I was over there last week and got the tour and made a point to see the garage. I definitely understand. There’s plenty of room for the two cars but in order to get two bikes in they first have to move the car on the left out and then wheel the bikes in and line them both up along the side of the garage. Like, right alongside. As in almost touching. Whereas they used to just ride in and park the bike and get off.

It has an effect. It used to be when Dennis needed to go into town he’d just figure “might as well take the bike.” And he rode a lot. Now, it is a real effort to get the bike out. He’s not going to do that just on the spur of the moment, just because why not. No, if he needs to make a quick run to the store–something he used to routinely do on his BMW, or the Indian before that, or the Harley before that–it’s going to be in the car. Every time. Dang.

His situation makes my situation, which I have always thought of as quite nice, seem really, really nice. We have a large two-car garage with an attached workshop. I park one bike in the garage and when I had three bikes I parked two in the workshop. Now I just have one in the workshop. And yeah, I have to pull my car out to get the V-Strom out and then pull Judy’s car out to get it back in, but there’s no issue with cramming it into a tight space. I just pull in front of the cars and park. Then with the bike or bikes in the workshop, I just open the door and roll it/them in or out.

As reasonably convenient as that is, it has nevertheless deterred me from riding as much as I might have over the years. It’s the idea of gearing up and then getting a bike out, just to make a quick run to the store, that just doesn’t work for me most of the time. So I totally understand Dennis’s disinclination to go to all the trouble he has just for a quick run to the store. Dennis has always been the guy in the OFMC who has ridden way more than anybody else. I think that has changed.

Of course, my prospective answer to this issue has for a long time been that I want a little electric scooter. But I’ve never bought one. And now they have these electric power-assisted bicycles. A moped, actually, although the name “moped” has been appropriated by scooters, which are not in fact mopeds. Sooner or later I’m convinced I will. Then it will be the easiest thing in the world to hop on and cruise off on some small errand. Fun. What am I waiting for?

Biker Quote for Today

100 reasons not to date a biker: 18. The bike gets washed and waxed twice a month. The car never.

Sedalia was the end of the trip this year as we went our separate ways.

Headed home from Fort Garland on the last day of the trip we had several options as to route. Bill considered heading up US 285 because that took him right past his daughter Jenna’s house and he could stop for a visit. If we really wanted to get home we could just continue on US 160 to Walsenburg and take I-25 north. Or we could get to Walsenburg and then cut back northwest by the Wet Mountains to Westcliffe, then to Penrose, and on to Colorado Springs and pick up I-25 there if we wanted something more laid back and scenic. Plus a fair bit longer.

In reality, the last day of the trip always turns into horses headed for the stable and we decided to blast.

Of course the ride from Fort Garland to Walsenburg is a very nice ride, especially early in the morning. I’ve been on US 160 going both ways early in the morning and its pretty darn sweet. This day was no different.

Then there was I-25. Ugh. There was nothing to do but to do it but we agreed that rather than take I-25 all the way into Denver we would get off at Monument and take the back road. The back road is CO 105, which runs up to Palmer Lake, through Perry Park, on to Sedalia. For Dennis and Bill that is actually a more direct route to where they live and I considered splitting off at Monument but then Bill had an idea.

These two guys have been telling me for years that Bud’s Burger Bar in Sedalia has the best burgers around. I had never been there. Judy and I were over that way recently at lunch time so we had decided to stop and try the place out but it was jammed and we would have had a long wait to get seated, so we left. So let’s stop at Bud’s for lunch. I’m in.

What is there to say about I-25. We survived it. We got through Colorado Springs. The traffic on I-25 through Colorado Springs is terrible and it was this day but we slogged on through. Then the run on up CO 105 was as sweet as ever. This is a major route for motorcycles on weekends especially so it’s always good.

Then Sedalia and Bud’s. Once again they were full but my friends, the old hands, knew that the protocol was that if there was space at one of the big round tables you just ask the folks there if it’s OK to join them. We asked these two guys and they welcomed us. Finally I’m going to taste a Bud’s burger.

I’d like to say it was fabulous, but I don’t like to lie. No question, it was a good burger but not something I’d drive all the way over there for. So we were talking with these guys we were sharing the table with and they asked what our favorite burger places were. Bill and Dennis said right here. Bud’s. These guys said they are always on the hunt for the best burger in town and in their opinions there is no place that beats The Hound, over at Hampden and Yosemite.

Now my ears perked up. I live right there by Hampden and Yosemite. Judy and I used to go to that place for burgers and we definitely considered them the best in town. But the place changed hands, changed names, and we were disappointed in the burgers under the new management and had not been back. I told these guys this and they said whatever may have been, they do once again have the best burgers in town. Judy and I will definitely be trying them out.

So we continued with our meal and finally Bill stopped and asked what I thought of the Bud’s burger. “You’ve eaten half of it and you haven’t said a word.” I know he wanted me to rave about it and say how great it was but, again, I hate to lie, so I said honestly that I thought it was “definitely a good burger.” Period. It was not what he wanted to hear. I think he took it personally and was a little miffed.

We finished eating and now it really was time to split up. I would get on US 85 and take a right turn while they would go left. We said our good-byes and the 2024 OFMC trip was another in the books. Maybe the last. But I thought that last year so maybe not. We’ll see.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if you won’t ride unless it’s a group ride.

Bill shot this to document our deluxe accommodations in Fort Garland.

This 2024 OFMC trip was planned as a Colorado adventure tour so for the most part we stayed in-state. However, on this day when we were running from Ignacio to Fort Garland there were two routes of about the same distance and one of those promised a lot less traffic.

By either route we would need to leave Ignacio on CO 151 headed east, past Chimney Rock National Monument where we stopped the day before, and get on US 160 headed east to Pagosa Springs. From Pagosa we could have just stayed on US 160 all the way in to Fort Garland, going over Wolf Creek Pass along the way, but that’s a very busy highway with a lot of trucks and not very appealing. Besides, we’ve been over Wolf Creek any number of times.

The alternate route was to go south from Pagosa on US 84, down into New Mexico, where we would turn east on US 64, over to Chama. Then from Chama we could take NM/CO 17 northeast over Cumbres and La Manga Passes to Antonito. We’d pick up US 285 at Antonito, up to Alamosa, where we we rejoin US 160 the short distance east to Fort Garland. With roughly the same distances it was really a no-brainer.

The same road looks different going the other direction so it was no hardship leaving Ignacio and cruising back along CO 151 up to US 160. Then the run east to Pagosa was again just beautiful. It really does seem the whole state is greener late in the season this year than it typically is and on a beautiful day you just can’t ask for better. We gassed up in Pagosa and headed south and found northern New Mexico just as green. What a sweet ride.

It was going to be an early lunch but we figured Chama made the most sense for eating so we pulled in there and parked. As nice a little town as Chama is, it really seems to be going downhill. We found our food options very limited–more so than I recall from previous visits–and we decided instead just to try to find some ice cream.

Now, Chama is home to the southern end of the Cumbres and Toltec Scenic Railroad and draws a lot of tourists to the train. Where you find hordes of tourists you generally find ice cream parlors. Not obviously the case in Chama. But what is not obvious is nevertheless true in some cases.

What we found was a Subway that was split into two sections, one for sandwiches and the other for ice cream. There was no one manning the ice cream side till we asked and then, while the ice cream was good, it had some ice crystals in it, suggesting that they don’t go through the tubs very quickly. I really think if they put a big, highly visible sign out by the road reading “Ice Cream!” they could double their business.

From Chama we headed north. The OFMC has ridden Cumbres and La Manga Passes a few times but not a lot. The last time we did it going north we ran into a herd of cattle being moved to a new pasture. When the cowboys showed no inclination to help create a path through the herd a car started honking and edging through. We followed suit, with the Harley boys revving their engines loudly to convince the steaks on legs to get out of the way. A memorable ride.

This time there were no herds, and it was smooth sailing, and the thing that struck me was how unfamiliar this route seemed, even though I know I’ve been over it multiple times before. But once again, really pretty.

We got into Antonito and if we thought Chama was a food desert, well Antonito was the Sahara. So we pushed on to Alamosa but at that point we were only a few miles from Fort Garland so we just made that turn and cruised on. We’d just have an early dinner.

There’s not much in Fort Garland but there are a few restaurants and at least one of them is pretty good. The Mountain View Diner has no A/C and the fans were not nearly enough on this hot day but the food was actually quite good. And thus our day came to a close. Home tomorrow.

Biker Quote for Today

Why motorcycles are better than women: Unlike women, motorcycles don’t whine unless something is really wrong.

You can see some of the work that has been done at this new national monument so far.

Leaving Durango on this year’s OFMC trip we had originally planned to ride down to Mesa Verde National Park where we were to spend the night at the Far View Lodge, the very cool old lodge inside the park. It was a treat I was looking forward to but Bill had announced he would not be going there with us and we ended up cutting that night out and moving everything else up.

That left us leaving Durango with the day’s destination of . . . Ignacio. Eighteen miles away. OK, let’s see what we can figure out here.

Because this whole trip was planned as a tourist trip, with us stopping at attractions and doing things that tourists do and that we generally haven’t, we had on our plan for the day leaving Ignacio to make a stop at Chimney Rock National Monument. I suggested that we head east on US 160, then turn back west at CO 151, which runs right by the monument before leading us directly on to Ignacio. Make it about a 100-mile day. The guys thought that sounded good.

The ride out US 160 was very nice as the entire state seems to have stayed green much later in the summer this year than usual. Really, really beautiful. We made the turn and were soon at Chimney Rock.

Chimney Rock National Monument is one of the newest national monuments in the country. It’s new enough that other times we have been past it it has not even been open yet to the public. Now it is but there’s still not a lot to it in terms of infrastructure.

First off we had to go in on a gravel road, and everyone knows how Bill feels about riding on gravel. He wasn’t thrilled but it was only a quarter mile. We got to the visitor center area and it is in such an early phase that the ranger did not have an actual visitor center, he was sitting there under an open tent talking to people and handing out literature. Besides restrooms the only structure was one building that was split with one half being a museum and the other half a gift shop.

It’s a good museum, though, and I found out a whole lot I had not known about the place. I’ve seen the rocks that give the place its name many times passing by and had assumed the monument was all about the rocks. And I thought making it a national monument for the rocks was a bit of a stretch.

In fact, it’s an archaeological site and up on the mesa above there are pueblos that are pretty well preserved. With the gravel road we were not going to ride up to the pueblos, plus it was a pretty hot day and we were in the middle of the heat. The ranger said they do have a shuttle going up for those who don’t want to drive but we passed. I’ll do that some other time when I’m out that way with Judy. Bill seemed positively disinterested and I didn’t know how Dennis felt about it.

So we saw what there was to see and then headed on to Ignacio. Even after our detour it was far too early to check into our rooms at the Sky Ute Casino Resort but they have a very good restaurant where we had lunch and then there was the gambling. This was one place where arriving early was not an inconvenience.

Biker Quote for Today

With the throttle’s roar, I ignite the adventure on the road.