Passes & Canyons Blog

The OFMC’s second year doing a week-long trip was a learning experience. I already described how totally unprepared we were on our first trip but we still had a lot to learn.

Our first day out we rode from Denver to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. If you’ve been there you know that from where you turn off US 50 it’s about eight miles in to the park, and it’s not a fast eight miles. We set up our tents and then realized that with no food we were going to need to ride into Montrose to get some dinner. That was about 20 miles away. OK, maybe we should have thought of this beforehand.

So we went to town and ate. As we were heading back, in the parking lot, I started pulling forward, just idly dangling my feet when my toe snagged on one of those concrete blocks that you park up against. My leg was hanging down in front of my peg and with the toe stopped by the block and my leg trapped by the peg it could have been serious. Breaking my foot or ankle was a real possibility. Fortunately my toe slipped over the block and freed me. I had just learned that you really ought to raise your feet pretty much as soon as you start moving. More ignorance dispelled.

We rode into Utah and ended up for the night camped on the shore of Lake Powell. This time we had the wisdom to stop in Monticello and get food, but we had made the assumption we would be able to get firewood at the campground. Wrong. So we gathered bits of grass, twigs, and anything else we could find that would burn and built a tiny fire that we took turns cooking hot dogs over, holding them with our fingers and moving them back and forth over the tiny flame. But man they tasted good!

Back then there was a ferry across from Hall’s Crossing to Bullfrog. Today there is a bridge. We rode the ferry across and headed on into Las Vegas. Back in these days we usually didn’t wear helmets, although we had them along. We rode into Nevada, into Vegas, to a hotel, and only after that did we learn that Nevada was a helmet state. Oops. Maybe we should research these things beforehand. (Nope, we didn’t learn this lesson here.)

From Vegas we rode on down to Laughlin and this was where we first encountered nasty riding. There was a lot of wind and the dirt and dust in the air was horrible. We were glad to be wearing our helmets. And we got down to Laughlin and there were no rooms, or at least none that our meager budgets could handle. But we discovered that just on the other side of the river was Bullhead City, Arizona, and there were free water ferries that you could get across on. (They’re not free any more.) Over there were affordable motels and we got one.

The affordable food, however, was on the Nevada side. Back then casinos treated restaurants as loss-leaders. They would draw you in with super cheap food and hope to make it up with you gambling and losing to them. We got a terrific prime rib dinner for all of $3.50. Don’t go looking for that today because you won’t find it.

Back at our motel it was a pretty good time. It seems there was some big deal going on somewhere in the vicinity that had drawn in strippers from all over, and a bunch of them were staying at our motel. Hanging out by the pool was very pleasant. But then I had a not so pleasant encounter.

I was standing outside our room, on the second floor, looking out over the parking lot and pool, talking with some other guy also on a motorcycle. At some point he pointed down to my CB750 below and referred to it a “that POS” except he didn’t use the initials. My motorcycle, this POS he was talking about, was the love of my life. I had never in my life wanted so much to punch someone’s lights out. I restrained myself but man I wanted to hit this guy, hard!

The next day was just a long ride east on I-40 across Arizona, into New Mexico, to Gallup. All day it was a strong wind directly out of the north, hitting us from the side. All day. We got a lot of practice at leaning into the wind, and also about how when someone passes you and blocks the wind momentarily you better be ready to straighten up and then be ready for the blast once again once they get past. Another less than pleasant first.

At this point one of our primary factors in choosing a motel was cost. We wanted the cheapest we could find. In Gallup we discovered that sometimes it’s better to pay a little more. We had the filthiest, crummiest little place you can imagine, not to mention the bugs. I don’t remember whose turn it was to sleep on the floor but it was not pretty.

We reached Albuquerque and stopped by to visit my brother and sister-in-law. He was not there but she was. I have no idea what we did while there but my brother told me later that his wife complained to him about what poor guests we were. He’s not married to her anymore.

Heading north back into Colorado we went through Ojo Caliente and on up toward Alamosa. Along the way we ran into a cloudburst and got pretty wet. No big deal. These storms pass and the sun comes out and everything dries off and everything’s cool. Of course, we were still total novices at this and we still didn’t have any rain gear.

So we got wet, but we kept riding, and sure enough, it wasn’t too long before we were dry again. But we got into Alamosa and we were starting to shiver. We headed to a coffee shop and sat there and drank about seven pots of coffee, all of us shaking and shivering, just trying to warm up. Hypothermia. It was nasty.

And then for one final lesson, we came back out to the bikes and, being a hot day, the asphalt was hot and the side-stand on Bill’s bike had sunk into the asphalt, allowing his bike to topple over onto John’s, knocking both of them down. Up till then we had no idea of putting a puck or a flat can or piece of wood or something under the side-stand to keep it from sinking in. You live and learn.

The next day we rode on home. No more lessons to be learned. But we had had quite an education this week.

Biker Quote for Today

The best routes are the ones you haven’t ridden.

In the beginning, John got a 750 Virago, then I got a CB750 Custom, and then Bill got an 1100 Shadow. The groundwork was laid for the OFMC, which officially launched within a year with our first trip.

That first trip was in 1989. Since then the group grew to as large as 10 but has now dropped back to three core riders and a new fourth who we hope will continue with us. Over the years there have been 13 of us all told. Every year we take at least one long trip, usually of one week.

Bikes have changed, gear has gotten better, and we’ve all gotten a bit grayer and a bit heavier. But every year we still ride.

These are the tales of the OFMC.

Is that dramatic enough? There ought to be some urgent music in the background, some pounding kettle drum building in intensity and pushing the tension to a crescendo. Then an eruption, fireworks, and cataclysm, leading finally to a spreading diminuendo. Now the mood is set. Our story begins.

The first OFMC trip was really just a long weekend. We left on Saturday and got home on Monday. John was a teacher and so was off for the summer and I was in one of my frequent bouts of unemployment. Bill just took a day off work. Let’s go have some fun.

We had no gear. All we took with us was tents and sleeping bags bungeed to the back of our bikes. We had no destination or plans of any sort. We probably headed toward Kremmling just because that was where John’s mother lived and he thought it would be nice to pay her a visit. After the visit we continued west on US 40 till we got to Steamboat Springs where, coming into town, we saw they had a small municipal water park with slides and pools and other cool (as in temperature) things that looked very appealing on this hot day. Just back up the road a short distance we had seen a campground so we agreed to stop here for the night and get in the water.

There wasn’t much to Steamboat at that time. After the water park there was still plenty of daylight and there was a road leading from our campground up into the hills so we decided to explore. Imagine our surprise to come upon a one-block stretch of shops and restaurants, and one multi-story parking garage, all by themselves up on the hill. We didn’t know it then but that was the beginning of the explosion of Steamboat Springs, and was the commercial center of the coming ski area-centered development. But for us it was just this weird area stuck out there in the middle of nothing. We had dinner and then slept down by the river in our tents.

The next day we headed on west to Craig and then John must have had an idea where he wanted to go next. We turned south on CO13 down through Meeker and on to Rifle, turning off before Rifle to go into Rifle Gap State Park. This was the place where Christo had put up his “Valley Curtain,” probably the project that first brought him to most Americans’ attention. We parked in a lot where you have to carry your gear in a ways to the campsites and set up camp. Then it was time to go check out the falls and swim again.

I mentioned we had absolutely no gear, right? Well, we didn’t even have swim suits. At the water park we had just work cut-offs; here at the falls there was no one else around so we just jumped in in our underwear. What’s the real difference between a swimsuit and underwear anyway?

Then we rode into Rifle for dinner. The one thing I really remember about that ride into Rifle and back was that there was a good bit of gravel on the road and I was still really learning to ride. I probably didn’t even have 2,000 miles under my belt at this time. Bill and John had both had scooters when they were kids and were a lot more used to slipping around on loose stuff so took that road a lot faster than I was comfortable going. The ride back in the dark, especially, was for me a bit scary. And my rear end did slide out a bit a couple times. Not my most favorite part of the trip.

The next day was really nothing much. We rode into Rifle for breakfast then jumped on I-70 for home. But we had set the ball in motion that is still rolling.

Biker Quote for Today

Put the fun between your legs.

OK, holiday hiatus over with, let’s get back to what we were discussing, i.e., new roads we rode on this year’s OFMC trip. I last highlighted NM518 from Mora to Penasco. What came next?

Leaving Espanola we were only going as far as Socorro and if we took I-25 we would have been there in two hours or less. That would never do and besides, that would take us right through Albuquerque–not a pleasant idea. No problem, I knew–or thought I knew–that we could just cruise down that way on the east side of the Sandia Mountains rather than the west.

So the plan was to get off I-25 at Bernalillo and take NM165 down to where we would hit the road up to Sandia Crest. Nice thought; bad plan. That road is unpaved and unmaintained so we had to go back to I-25 and go through Albuquerque after all. Then we turned east on I-40 to Tijeras and up that road and then up to Sandia Crest. Once we got off at Tijeras it was all new road and the road up to Sandia Crest is fabulous. At least that part of the plan was good.

And then for nearly all of the rest of the day it was still new roads. We backtracked to Tijeras, crossed under I-40, and continued south on NM337. This road also runs to the east of the hills. I don’t know if these are still the Sandias stretching south but whatever they’re called, we stayed east. We went down through canyons, over hills, and then also over a whole lot of flat, open land. But at least we weren’t on the interstate, and it was all new for us. At Mountainair we hit US 60, also new for us, and took it west to finally rejoin I-25 just north of Socorro. A good day riding.

The next new road came the next day, as we headed west out of Socorro, once again on US 60. This was a nice ride through some attractive country and past the Very Large Array until we stopped at Datil for lunch. The road splits here, with US 60 going on northwest through Quemado and over to Springerville. Going southwest, NM12 runs down to Rancho Grande Estates and ends at the junction with US 180. Either would have been new for us. We took NM12.

The first part was a wide-open expanse but then we were in a broad valley between mountains. When we got as far as Apache Creek we came onto road we had ridden before. Last time we were coming the other way and went north on NM32 to Quemado. So as far as Apache Creek we were backtracking on a road we had been on before, but then at US 180 it became another new stretch as previously we had come north on 180 and turned east on 12. Now we continued north on 180 from where we had turned off last time.

This was a terrific stretch of road. It goes on up to Alpine, Arizona, and I had heard for years about how great the “Alpine Loop” was. The stories were true. Through canyons, over mountains, this was a great ride. We spent the night in Alpine and then continued up to Eagar and Springerville and then caught US 191 north to AZ61, headed east, which became NM53 when we crossed back into New Mexico. That took us to NM62, which carried us up to Gallup. All of that was new.

Our only feasible option from Gallup was north on US 491, a road we have been on several times. Still, we had the chance to get off it before reaching Shiprock by turning northeast on Indian Service Route 5, which carried us over to NM371, which we had been on before. All of this route was mostly desert but at least the service route curved around staying on a series of hilltops. I had no complaints.

We spent the night in Farmington and then headed northeast on NM516 to Aztec, where we picked up US 550 going north. We’ve been on them before. The last new road, however, came soon after we crossed back into Colorado when we turned east off 550 onto County Road 110, which was a really sweet little two-lane that wound its way around a bit and then followed a broad valley to Ignacio. So much preferable to US 160 further to the north.

So that was a heck of a lot of new roads in one trip. I think the reason we were able to hit so many new ones is that for years we have taken this trip in the middle of summer, when the beastly heat has dissuaded us from doing much in Arizona and New Mexico. Especially Arizona. But this year we went in September and that made a huge difference. And opened up a lot of new roads.

Now, if I can just convince these guys that it really isn’t horrible riding in Kansas and Nebraska, maybe we can hit some new roads out that way. But I’m not holding my breath.

Biker Quote for Today

Psyclepath – noun: A person suffering from an extreme love of motorcycles.

After more than 30 years doing our OFMC trips we have ridden just about everywhere you can go in eight or nine days from Denver–unless you’re an Iron Butt kind of guy, which we are not.

That means we have ridden just about every road within that area, most more than once. Still, there are little stretches of road here and there that we have missed and now and then we find our way to them. This year’s trip was a good one for finding them.

The first was just a local road but what a blessing to find. We were headed through Taos and knew that that town is very congested. Plus, as we got near we saw a warning sign saying that we should expect construction delays going through town. I had already spotted Blueberry Hill Road; now the only thing was to find it. As a small local road it’s not going to be found on any state highway map.

Fortunately, these days we have Google Maps and such, which is where I spotted it in the first place. But even those maps sometimes lack scale. In this case I knew we needed to turn west from the road we were on, onto the road going out to the Rio Grande Gorge, but then very quickly make a sharp left on Blueberry Hill. From the map you would probably think it was a mile or so.

I was in the lead and made the turn. We went about 300 feet and cross a stream and there on the left was a road. It looked like it could be what we wanted but there were no street signs. Still, there were a couple cars coming out of there, suggesting it was somewhat busy. I decided to take a chance.

Success! This was Blueberry Hill Road and it took us all the way around Taos on a series of ridges with almost no traffic. Very sweet, not to mention rather scenic. I can easily imagine taking this road again.

This led us immediately to the next new road. As we got to the highway where I had understood we needed to do a quick jog left, jog right to get onto the High Road to Taos, I was set to go left when Dennis pulled up next to me. He said his GPS said Espanola, our destination, was to the right. I was not totally sure of myself so I agreed that we should go right.

Well, that was really wrong. To get to the High Road we did need to go left, but this road did go to Espanola nevertheless. And it was a shorter, more direct route. Not that we wanted short or direct, we actually wanted scenic but then this new road, NM68, had that to offer as well. First we went down into the gorge of the Rio Grande and then that opened out into a lovely valley filled with vineyards and farms. It did later run out on the flatland that was decidedly unscenic but no big deal. It was a nice road and we had never ridden it.

We got to Espanola for a three-night stay and on our second full day we did a day ride, making sure to know our way to the High Road. We took that up to Taos, then crossed the hills to get to Angel Fire, turned south there on a really nice road we had ridden for the first time just about five years ago, and then reached the town of Mora. The last time we had turned left at Mora to go on down to Las Vegas and I-25. What I had seen on the map, however, was that if we turned right at Mora we would get on an entirely new road that would take us back the High Road to Taos a little east of Penasco: NM518.

This was a really nice road going through some valleys and over some hills, with the only thing spoiling the scenery being the char of a very recent forest fire. Sad to see. Otherwise, a great road.

OK, I didn’t expect this. This post is getting long and I’m not nearly done. We rode a lot of new roads on this trip. I’ll pick up from here next time.

Biker Quote for Today

“The main thing I’m into is going about on a bike, taking random routes; I’m really into the idea of making up journeys and just seeing where they take you because they always end up taking you someplace freaky.” – Tom Jenkinson

John and Bill and I started taking these OFMC trips more than 30 years ago and for an amazing number of years we did so with absolutely zero mechanical issues. Actually, it was very close in our seventh year, when Bill’s stator failed on him as he was heading to our rendezvous point. So technically it wasn’t on the trip. John and I left without him and a few days later he met up with us in Thermopolis, Wyoming.

It wasn’t until our 20th year that we actually had mechanical problems on the road. That year Jason was on his new Road King and while we were in Taos he and several other guys rode down a very rough road to a very much over-rated hot spring. Something jarred loose on the bike and caused him problems until he took the better part of a day at a Harley dealer getting it fixed.

Since then we have had periodic issues, and this year’s trip was definitely way up there.

For starters, as I’ve told of previously, I dropped my Concours in a parking lot and busted my left mirror assembly. That necessitated a kludgey repair but I was able to roll with no problem.

Then later that same day my right-side highway peg just fell off. Vibration had apparently just worked it loose over who knows how long a time. Miraculously it did not fall to the ground and get lost, it hung up on the fairing so when I was able to stop it was there for me to put in my bag and put back on later.

Then the day we headed out of Socorro we made a stop to view the Very Large Array. When we were ready to head on Bruce found that his bike would not start. He had left the key in the On position and the battery–probably very much near the end of its life–had gone dead. Fortunately, Bruce is very resourceful. He carries along a jump-starter outfit. This is a very small thing that consists of a cable to connect to the battery and a fully charged power source. He hooked it up, hit the starter, it fired, and we were off. Handy little device you’ve got there Bruce.

And then later that day we hit the big one. Riding in a rainstorm in Arizona, Bill did not dodge a big rock laying in the middle of the road. He took a terrific jolt but kept the bike up and then rode it all the rest of the way to our day’s destination. At which time his front tire promptly went flat. Another miracle.

Now Dennis and Bruce both pulled out little air pumps they carry and they tried to reinflate the tire. But the rim had been badly bent and it just wouldn’t hold air. But we had gotten all this way; can’t we get enough in there to force a seal again? Our host had an air compressor and hose so they tried that and it did get the tire filled. But just a couple hours later it was flat again.

This necessitated a tow to the next town where an inner tube was put in and we made it on to Farmington. But by morning the tire was flat again. Bruce’s air pump put in enough air so Bill could make it five miles to the local Harley dealer, where he ended up paying $2,000 for a new wheel and tire.

And that was finally the end of our troubles. It just leaves me wondering, how in the world did we make it 20 years without any mechanical problems. Just amazing luck I guess.

Biker Quote for Today

My motorcycle is like my wife. Very temperamental and showing signs of age. But stays by my side during the twists and long straights of life.

I had forgotten to mention one thing about our recent OFMC trip: all of a sudden my Concours decided to run well again.

I had been having a series of problems with this bike. I didn’t know how long this had been going on till just now when I looked back on times I’ve written about these problems. The first mention I encountered was from December 28, 2020. Almost two years. Dang.

At that time I told how I had rolled the bike out for a ride, fired it up and let it warm up, and then took off, only to have it die about 10 feet out of the driveway. It seemed to be acting the way it had in the past when I had inadvertently left the gas petcock on Prime rather then in the On or Reserve positions. Why this thing even has Prime I don’t understand. So I did what had worked in the past, I changed the oil. After that it ran fine and I thought I had solved the problem.

Not so easy. The next few times I rode it it wouldn’t run well at first and I would ride around the neighborhood before just to see before going further from home. It would die coming to a stop so I’d rev it a bit as I stopped.

I did some searching and found information suggesting maybe the air filter was clogged with oil, so I replaced the oil filter. No improvement so I checked on the Concours Owners Group forum and came up with the possibility of hydrolock. But as far as I could tell that was not the issue either so finally I resigned myself to calling in Joel, my mechanic, and paying the price.

But then I met a guy who suggested clearing the fuel line using carb cleaner. I did that and it helped a lot. Maybe I wouldn’t need to pay Joel after all. The immediate improvement was great and I hoped it would just get better and better. But it didn’t. Eventually I did have Joel clean the carburetors. By now it was April of 2021.

Come July of 2021 I went on the OFMC trip on the Concours after Joel had cleaned the carbs and the bike ran well but not perfectly. And at times it seemed like the throttle would stick and the engine would race like crazy at a stop and there was nothing I could do. Arrgh!

After that trip I had Joel work on it some more and it finally was good enough and I figured I’d just have to live with revving it a bit until it got fully warmed up, and accepting that it had a delayed response to twisting the throttle. Not great but livable. And that’s where matters rested as of October 2021 and all through 2022.

Until the day before this year’s OFMC trip. I was getting ready to leave and figured I should take the bike for a spin just to make sure it was operating well before I took off and miraculously it didn’t run OK, it ran great! It ran the best it had run in two years. No long warm-up needed, no delayed throttle response, none of that.

And then the next day and on the whole trip and every time I’ve ridden it since then it has run like a new bike again. The impression I get is that for a long time there was some blockage in the fuel line and all of a sudden, finally, it got cleared out all on its own. I’m so happy! It’s just night and day how much better it runs. FINALLY!!

Biker Quote for Today

The best invention after the wheel was putting two of them together.

We got up, ate, and then it was time to ride down that loose gravel to get out of the RV park to the highway. Dennis went first and I followed and neither of us did try standing up on the pegs as we had considered the day before but neither of us had any problems and we made it down to firm ground uneventfully. Whew!

I led and we headed for Creede. I hadn’t gone more than a mile or so when it became clear I did not dress nearly warm enough. It was cold! So in Creede we made our first stop. Then we headed on up Spring Creek Pass. People were already needing to offload some coffee so near the top of the pass when I saw a pull-out we used it. It turned out to be a spot with a beautiful view down a nearby valley. (See the photo to right.)

There were a lot of aspen turning gold and it was a beautiful sunny day so who could ask for better. We rode on over Slumgullion Pass and on into Lake City. I had asked if anyone needed gas in Lake City and no one figured they did so we rode on through. Exiting the town there was a sign saying how far it was to Gunnison and I had to wonder and then as I rode further and saw there was no one behind me I knew what had happened. I turned back and found the gas station they had gone back to. Not a problem. We have plenty of time and it’s just wonderful to be outside on this kind of day.

Then on to Gunnison where we stopped for lunch. We considered going over Cottonwood Pass but that would have taken longer and we were all starting to feel the way horses feel when they know they’re headed for the stable. So we took Monarch.

Unlike the day before on Wolf Creek Pass, everyone felt like running up this pass so we had a spirited ride to the top and over and down. But Bill, who was leading, wasn’t done. He kept up the fast clip all the way to Fairplay, at which point we were all hoping for him to stop because by then we needed another pit stop. Bill did, too, and we stopped.

This was where we said our good-byes. We all made a point to tell Bruce we were pleased he had come with us and that he was welcome to come again next time. Bruce seemed amenable to that proposition.

We headed out on US 285 and Dennis, as usual, peeled off at the exit past Conifer that runs down past Tiny Town, headed to his place over in Deer Creek Canyon. Bill and Bruce and I continued on 285 to where it hits C-470 and Bill went north, Bruce went south, and I stayed on 285 east to home. What a good year’s ride we just had!

Biker Quote for Today

To me, it doesn’t matter whether it’s raining or the sun is shining or whatever: as long as I’m riding a motorcycle, I know I’m the luckiest guy in the world.

Sure enough, by morning Bill’s tire with the newly installed inner tube was flat. What the heck?

Preparing to hook up the little pump Bruce noticed that he could tighten the core in the valve stem in that tube just a tiny bit. Was that enough that it had leaked? Bill wasn’t going to test that by just riding on. We were in Farmington and there is a Harley dealer there, so with enough air to easily go five miles that was where we headed.

Long story short, Bill ended up paying about $2,000 for a new tire and wheel. Ouch. But now we could ride on confident that there should be no further problems.

We headed northeast on NM516 to Aztec and then took US 550 north. We really didn’t want to take 550 all the way up to US 160 and then go east on 160 because that’s a busy highway and we had been on it many times. Was there an alternative?

We looked at the map and saw that just a little ways into Colorado there was a road, CR110, that went east to Ignacio. And best of all, we had never been on this road. Great. Now we just had to find it. It’s not very well marked. We did find it, though, and it was a really nice road winding through some hills and some rolling ranch land. Time for lunch in Ignacio.

From Ignacio we took CO151 as it loops south and then north again, finally joining US 160 a little west of Pagosa Springs. Leaving Pagosa behind us we headed up Wolf Creek Pass. Dennis was leading, followed by Bill, then me, then Bruce.

One thing you have to understand about Bill is that he very much likes to set his cruise control and just let it go. Sometimes this means he’ll pull up on you and very slowly slip by. Other times it means he drops further and further back. This time he was dropping back. Meanwhile, I kind of wanted to run on up this very nice pass. So after a bit I blasted on past him.

But Dennis really wasn’t running up the pass either. And I felt like running. So I blew past him and really cranked it up. Pretty soon I saw that Bruce had also passed both of them and was enjoying a hot ride up, too. Fun. Eventually they both picked up speed and closed the gap a bit.

We came on down to South Fork and made the left turn off US 160 onto CO149 that runs through Creede and up over Slumgullion and Spring Creek Passes, to Lake City. But we weren’t going that far today, we were just headed to a campground and cabins between South Fork and Creede, Blue Creek Lodge and RV Park.

We were looking forward to our night here because I had received a call during the week telling me they had moved us from a smaller cabin to a full bunkhouse where we would each have our own room with private bath and a common area for meals and anything else. No extra charge. Cool. What we did not count on was that the road through the RV park was gravel and our bunkhouse was as far up this loose gravel as it is possible to go. I was on my Concours, which hates gravel, and Bill and Dennis are none too comfortable on gravel any time. Bruce, with his long legs as outriggers, is fine with that stuff.

The route winding through the RV park was also not really clear so I took a wrong turn at one point and we had to double back. Making the sharp right turn this necessitated I came just a hair’s breadth from dropping the bike. It was close, and then, fighting to keep it up, I had gotten too close to a cabin and had to roll back. That was less than fun on this loose stuff as well.

Dennis and Bruce and I finally made it to the top. Bill decided he would park at a lower level and just carry his stuff up to the cabin. It was clear that neither Dennis or I would be riding back down that road until we were leaving. But the lodge’s restaurant is not in operation so we had to do something to get dinner. So Bruce and Bill went back down and headed toward Creede to find some food to bring back. Meanwhile Dennis and I shuttled our bikes around to make it as easy as possible to get out the next morning.

We also noticed that heading down Bruce had stood up on his pegs. Dennis wondered aloud about that and I explained to him that standing on the pegs lowers you center of gravity from the seat to the pegs. We both figured maybe we’d try that in the morning.

Meanwhile, it was darn chilly and we had all turned the heat on in our rooms but nothing seemed to be happening. So we cranked them all the way up. Still nothing.

They guys got back with food, we ate and then had a good time sitting around shooting the bull. Then we headed to bed but the day wasn’t over. Each one of us, during the night, woke up to find that our heaters really do work and our rooms were broiling. I also went to the common area and turned that heater down so it wouldn’t be an oven in the morning. Now sleep.

Biker Quote for Today

Food, oxygen, love, sex, and motorcycles. Am I forgetting something?