Passes & Canyons Blog

At my request the RMMRC group riding the Great River Road made a stop on the outskirts of Cass Lake, Minnesota, so I could get a picture.

“What is the significance of this to you?” Tom asked.

Oh, a lot. This is where it all began.

When I was a teenager my family came up to Cass Lake every summer on vacation, to Camp Unistar out on Star Island in the middle of Cass Lake. (Both the lake and the town are called Cass Lake.) As regulars we got to know the folks running the camp and it was common for the kids of regulars to work as low-paid help in the summers. Spend the whole summer at camp and get paid for it? Sign me up.

I got my turn the summer between my junior and senior years in high school, and when I got there I found that Terry, my bunk-mate for the summer, had come up from his home in Minneapolis on his brand new Honda 305 Scrambler. Totally cool.

What was even cooler is that he hung the bike’s key on a nail in our quarters and told me any time I wanted to ride the bike to just go ahead. Of course, we were out on the island, so we only got in to the mainland now and then, and that was usually on work errands, like going to the grocery store.

Now, I actually had ridden a motorcycle one time previously. Back in those days you could rent a Honda 90 from 7-Eleven for three dollars an hour. That was big money for me so I only did it one time, when one of my friends prodded me to go ahead and pony up the big bucks.

So here I was with a summer to ride for free anytime I wanted (and could get away to do so). Can you say Yahoo!?

And I did. The bike was very torquey and I had no experience driving so I did my best to manage the clutch and throttle but ended up doing any number of wheelies totally without intent. Not a problem, I knew I’d figure it out eventually.

There’s not much of anywhere to go around Cass Lake but I’d just get on the bike and go ride–I didn’t care where. And then it all came to a screeching halt.

One week a family we knew, from Bismarck, North Dakota, came to camp with their two gorgeous daughters, Randi and Sheri. And one day I was taking the boat in to the marina to go pick up a few things at the grocery store. Randi and Sheri asked if they could ride along and I told them sure, and I’ll even take you for rides on Terry’s motorcycle. Of course they were up for that.

As I was getting ready to go I mentioned to Terry that I was going to town and the girls were going along. To my surprise, and to this day I’m not sure why, Terry told me not to take the girls riding. I said OK and left.

So we got to the marina and I fired up the bike and Randi got on and we rode into town. We got the groceries (I don’t remember what but it couldn’t have been much, right?) and went back to the bike. We got on, I fired it up, and just then some local kids came along and called out “Look at the girl on the motorcycle!” She was a beauty and I was understandably pleased to be seen with her on this motorcycle. And then, totally unintentionally, I wheelied away from the curb with her hanging on tightly. Was I a cool dude or what!

We went back to the marina and I left Randi with the groceries and Sheri and I took off on the bike. We rode out of town but there was nothing out there so we just went a little ways and turned around. Then back to the boat and back to camp.

On the way I told the girls that if Terry asked if I took them for rides to say no, and they agreed they would. But when we got back Terry asked me and I’ve always hated lying so I told him yes, I had. He didn’t say a word, but that key was never on that nail ever again and I never rode that motorcycle again.

But for me, that was the beginning. And now here I was on a motorcycle at Cass Lake and I had to stop and get the picture. That, Tom, is the significance.

Biker Quote for Today

She told me to whisper something sexy in her ear, so I whispered “BRAAAPP.”

By the time we were ready to head out from the cabin on the lake Dave had made his decision as to what he was going to do–sort of. He dismissed the idea of trading the bike and also was not inclined to push his luck by riding it back to Denver and counting on keeping the battery charged. Which meant he would not be going on with us.

He decided he would take the bike to a dealer in the Twin Cities and fly home. Whether to fly back and ride home or drive out and trailer it home was still up in the air, dependent on his wife’s inclination to make a trip out to visit the family. But the rest of us were pushing on. And first we had to get up that driveway.

As with going down, we let one rider go at a time, making sure he was clear before the next hit it. And you know what? Nobody had even the slightest problem. A lot of fretting for nothing. And the Great River Road ride was on once again.

Bob was in the lead now. We picked up the river again at St. Cloud and continued north. We rode well over 100 miles this first leg so by the time we stopped I really needed a restroom. When I came out Bob told me the proprietor of the station had asked that we move the bikes to clear the drive–which was about 40 feet wide. Bob was annoyed so I figured I’d not do the station the honor of buying their gas. I looked at my gauge and figured I could make it all the way to Detroit Lakes–our stop for the night–without more gas.

I heard Bob talking about our route taking us through Bemidji, and a quick look at the map confirmed that that would take us right through Cass Lake (the town), where I have history, so I told him I wanted to stop there to get a picture by the city limit sign. Bob said you lead. I did.

We got to Cass Lake, I stopped and got my picture, then we went looking for lunch. There’s not much in Cass Lake any more but we did find an Indian casino that was new since I had last been here, and they had a restaurant. After lunch Bob checked the route and said we actually hadn’t needed to go to Bemidji (and thus not to Cass Lake, either) so we backtracked about 10 miles and took a different road. No matter, we got to Itasca State Park, home of Lake Itasca and the headwaters of the Mississippi River.

How is it that this lake is the headwaters, you might ask. Aren’t there streams running into the lake, and couldn’t you follow one of them (which one?) to its own origin and call that the headwaters? Well, apparently, there are not streams running into the lake, it is spring-fed. And the 15-foot-wide, 1-foot-deep stream that flows out is the very beginning of the Mississippi. Cool. I find it hard to believe that my family didn’t come here at one point but none of it looked familiar. Bad memory; more than 50 years ago.

This was what we had come for, so now was the beginning of the ride home. Detroit Lakes was still some ways away and my fuel was running uncomfortably low. I mentioned to Bob that if we came on a gas station we should stop. Nobody else was needing gas and this is someone who doesn’t like to stop so there was discussion and it was suggested that I go ahead and top off now from one of the cans that several people carry with them. I wasn’t keen on that so I said no, let’s just go–I’m pretty sure I can make it all the way.

Good thing because we didn’t pass any gas stations. I did make it to Detroit Lakes, though I probably didn’t have more than another 15 or 20 miles in the tank when we got there. But I got there.

Biker Quote for Today

Whenever I tell motorcycle jokes, people laugh out loud. It feels like a Triumph every time.

We eight RMMRC riders left Red Wing the morning of Day 5 of this Great River Road ride and turned away from the river, headed for a house on a lake that was owned and rented out by Dave’s sister and her husband, in South Haven. I think it was at about this time that I decided to completely bag the idea I had started out with of doing a story for Rider magazine about this ride. For the kind of story they want you need to stop at interesting places, shoot a lot of pictures, and generally do more than just ride through without stopping. Which was not the way this group was traveling. Plus, now we were leaving the river entirely for the next 80 miles of its route. Nope, not going to happen.

The river goes right through Minneapolis/St. Paul and our route was south and west of the cities and then north to South Haven. Only about a 140-mile day. But first there was the question of Dave’s bike. Did buying a new battery make everything better? Or was the problem deeper? He had a full charge when we started out but it didn’t take long for him to see that the problem was not solved. We got southwest of Minneapolis and stopped, he looked to see where the nearest BMW dealer was, and we turned in that direction.

We got there and over the course of the next couple hours the shop did a diagnosis that showed the problem was the stator. A big deal. First off, the part would cost about $1,000; second, labor would be about $1,500; and third, they didn’t have one in stock. Big problem. As long as Dave kept charging his battery he could keep running. But what to do?

We headed on out to the lake with the only thing eventful about that being the driveway down to this house. Dave had warned us that it was extremely steep. My parents lived their retirement years on a lake like this in South Carolina and while their driveway was not excessive, there were plenty in the area where you might have a 150-foot driveway that drops 50 feet. Like this one. The difference being that my parents were in South Carolina where it rarely snows and this was in Minnesota. It snows in Minnesota. Frequently. A lot.

“How do you get to this place in winter?”

“We don’t.”

So we got there and one by one rode down, making sure each bike was out of the way of the others yet to come. This was uneventful until Charley dropped his bike at the bottom, the second time in two days he had dumped it. Unlike the day before, however, this was more of an event. I winced as I saw and heard his helmet crack sharply on the asphalt. Not good. But he was up quickly and later had no recollection that he had hit the ground like that. That’s why you wear a helmet. He also got his shin bloodied a bit by his highway peg. But basically not hurt.

While the rest of us relaxed and settled in for two nights Dave was on the phone and trying to figure out what to do. Should he try to ride home, counting on keeping the battery charged? Should he take the bike to a shop in the Twin Cities and wait for it to be fixed? Or leave it with them and fly home? And then fly back to get it and ride home or drive out with his wife in his truck with the trailer and trailer it home? Or maybe just trade it for a new bike right here. Decisions.

After four hard days of riding we were ready to be off the bikes. We went out on the lake in the boat, made a grocery run and got a lot of stuff for some good eating, and took it easy.

One issue lurked on our minds, though. Getting back up that hill. I was on my V-Strom, which has a ton of low-down torque, so I knew I’d be fine. I wasn’t so sure about Tom’s Vulcan in particular, and all of them considering there was no room to get a run at it. This would be start rolling and hit the hill in about five feet, then climb. The next day we moved the bikes around to get them all set up to just go at the hill.

Meanwhile, relax.

Biker Quote for Today

Speed costs money. How fast do you want to go?

Day 4 of this ride along the Great River Road and we headed north out of Davenport, Iowa, to I-80, which we jumped on just long enough to reach the Mississippi at LeClaire. From there US 67 follows the west bank of the river.

If I was doing this trip with Judy in the car I would seriously consider skipping the more southern portion of this ride and just blasting out to LeClaire and heading north from there. This was where the river road started getting really consistently pretty. I would hate to miss the bluffs, the town of Grafton, and Pere Marquette State Park, just north of Alton, Illinois. But if you were strapped for time this would be a good starting point. Either way, LeClaire is a very attractive little town hugging the river, and would be worth a stop.

Of course, this is the RMMRC, and we don’t do stops. So we ran right on through.

I have to say here, this trip was originally conceived of as something where we would not ride together, where everyone would pick their agenda for the day with the only certainty that we would all end up in the same place that evening. For the most part that didn’t happen. For those like me who wanted a different agenda, we really have no one but ourselves to blame. I did do that a few times but not this day, which I regret because there were stretches later on where I really wanted to go a different route but didn’t. Tim did go off on his own pretty much this entire day but I’m not sure he’s glad he did. More on that later.

So US 67 pretty much sticks to the river, although for much of the time it drifts away from the shore, only offering you views of the water occasionally. It terminated and we picked us US 52, which took us across the river into Illinois and we turned north on IL 84. Again, after awhile alongside the river the road turned more inland and there wasn’t much to see. We connected to US 20 and took it through Galena and then on into Dubuque, back on the Iowa side.

I’ve been to Dubuque a few times and was looking forward perhaps to stopping for lunch and spending some time there. But that was apparently not the plan, so after some missed turns and confusion we continued on out of town on IA 3, headed northwest. Now the river was not even close by but we were passing through some really pretty countryside. We hadn’t stopped in a long time so as we rode along a ridge line I was pleased to see a scenic viewpoint and desperately hoped Dave, who was leading, would stop. He didn’t. Man, I really needed to get off that bike for a bit!

We got back on US 52 and turned north, eventually rejoining the river at last. Finally we stopped in Gutenberg for lunch.

At that point we learned that Dave’s bike was not running well. His indicators were telling him the battery was not charging. It was decided that after lunch he and Charley would ride on straight to La Crosse, Wisconsin, where there was a battery shop that had just the battery his bike needed. We were all hoping that was all it would take. At lunch the first grumbling began to be voiced from those of us who are not inclined to the Iron Butt style of riding. It would continue to percolate.

From Gutenberg we followed what is actually called the Great River Road north to Marquette. The Great River Road continues, on up to Lansing, at which point we crossed into Wisconsin and picked up WI 35. This runs right along the river but we came to a construction zone. Bob was leading now and he rode right up to the blockade and asked the guys working if we could just scoot past and keep going. They said no, there were others areas where the road was unpassable, but if we took the marked detour but turned left at County Road K we could skip much of the detour and get back to the river much quicker. So we did, and that was actually kind of a fun ride through the hills.

After that it wasn’t far to La Crosse, where we found Dave and Charley at the battery shop, getting a charge put in Dave’s new battery. It was at this point that I made my mistake in not following my own lead. It was going to be another hour and a half till the battery was charged enough and I should have taken off. I would have gone on to Winona and then crossed to the other side and ridden along the east bank of the river pretty much all the way up to Red Wing, which was our destination for the night. But I didn’t.

So when we left we stuck to US 61 all the way, on the west bank. All along the way I could see the road on the east bank and it sure looked like the much prettier, less busy highway. I kept thinking we would cross the river and take that road but we never did.

What did happen was we got into Lake City and a construction zone. Along the way we lost half the group so Bob pulled over to wait. They didn’t show up so Bob went back to look for them. He didn’t find them so we rode on, not hurrying. We pulled over at one point to get gas and Charley, after gassing up, was pulling his bike around to the shady side of the building and dropped it. Dang. No harm done. Then we saw the other guys pass by on the road so we knew they were OK. We pushed on into Red Wing, found our motel, and met up with the others.

It turned out that going through the construction zone someone had stopped suddenly in front of Mike, he had braked quickly, and Roy plowed into him. Again, no injuries, but some damage to Mike’s side bag. We were just glad to get to Red Wing, and Dave put his battery on a charger overnight, with everyone crossing their fingers.

Except Tim wasn’t there. I was out in the parking lot at 10 that night talking to Judy on the phone when I heard a bike and there was Tim, finally arriving. I didn’t talk to him then but the next day he told me he didn’t even get out of Davenport the previous morning when he wiped out on some gravel. With that and a few other issues he had had a very long day.

Biker Quote for Today

When you arise in the morning think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive, to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love, to ride a motorcycle.

A different kind of long day today on this Great River Road ride with the RMMRC. We left St. Charles in the cool of the morning, with mist over everything. Very magical. We rode to the river at Alton, where we crossed on a new bridge very unlike the old one I drove over tripping on acid 50 years ago. That’s a story but it doesn’t bear telling here.

Then we turned north on the road that runs right along the river—very nice. This is MO 100. There were high bluffs for miles and I was kicking myself for not having my camera at the ready. Another negative of riding with a group; on my own I would have stopped and gotten my camera out. We passed through Grafton, which looks touristy but interesting. Then on to Pere Marquette State Park where we stopped and checked out the rustic old lodge. This would be a nice place to bring your wife to if you’re into these sorts of things. It’s definitely on my list of places to visit with Judy.

We rode up to a viewpoint and that was where we lost Tom. When we were ready to go, he went along on the road we were on, while the rest of us backtracked. He expected it to come back to the lodge but in fact it comes out to the river about three miles further down. We never saw him the rest of the day. I don’t know if he doesn’t read maps well, didn’t know what the planned route was, or what. Reaching him later by phone we found that he was many miles away from where we were and he had just decided to head straight to Davenport, our night’s stop.

The rest of us rode on to Hannibal and had lunch. We came through some nice country, rode along the river at times, but didn’t see the river at all for much of the time. From Louisiana, Missouri, to Hannibal was the nicest part.

In Hannibal, after lunch, the plan had been to visit the Mark Twain Boyhood Home & Museum, which comprises several sites around the town but it was blazing hot and everyone wanted to just go on. Except me. I said I’ll see you later but the main site was swarming with school kids so I said forget this and headed out. I stopped at a former Suzuki dealer a little later and bought a new helmet because the one I had worn was literally falling to pieces.

I took what turned out to be a side trip over into Quincy but then crossed back into Illinois to follow US 61. A little further on I took the business route through La Grange and Canton, both right on the river and then followed the highways up to Keokuk. From Keokuk, on the Illinois side following IL 96 it was a nice road right along the river, going through some historic areas. I stopped in Nauvoo for an ice cream break. This was another of the questions I had asked the day before: Don’t you guys ever make a stop for ice cream? Heck the OFMC makes it a point to have an ice cream break pretty much every day. Ice cream is synonymous with motorcycle riding isn’t it?

Some of the group had talked about wanting to stop and see a lock and dam along the river. I have to admit, as much of my life as I lived along or near the Mississippi River I had no real idea that there were dams on this mighty river. That’s totally illogical because my uncle, who lived in Granite City, Illinois, worked at a lock there. But there are dams, a lot of them, on the Mississippi. I made it a point to sit on the shady side of the street in Nauvoo eating my ice cream in case I had passed the other guys and they should just happen to come along at that time. It didn’t happen, at least in part because they never did stop at a lock, though we came past several of them.

From Nauvoo I mostly followed signs for the Great River Road and some of it was very nice but some not worth it. I was really glad to reach the hotel and get a shower. And good to relax and have a beer. This was not a 450-mile day again but it was darn near a 400-mile day by the time it was over. That’s a lot of riding and I was just glad to have taken the second part of the day at my own pace.

Biker Quote for Today

Knock knock! Who’s there? Iona. Iona who? Iona brand new motorcycle, wanna go for a ride?

Eight riders from the Rocky Mountain Motorcycle Riders Club (RMMRC), including me, headed out on this approximately 3,150-mile ride. Gathering very early on a cold Monday morning at Patty Ann’s in Kiowa, we set out to reach the Mississippi River at Alton, Illinois, and follow the river upstream to its headwaters at Lake Itasca in Itasca State Park in Minnesota. The series of roads from New Orleans to the headwaters is known collectively as the Great River Road.

My own journey to departure was anything but smooth. I planned to ride the Concours and the day before was performing standard pre-trip maintenance. Checking tire pressure I found that the valve stem on my rear tire was totally rotted out. Somehow the tire still holds air, though low, but when I tried putting air in it took a bit and then started blowing back just as much as was going in. This was Sunday and I needed to be rolling by about 6 a.m. the following day–no way to get it fixed.

Fortunately that’s not my only motorcycle. I moved all my gear from the Kawi bags and loaded the V-Strom bags. Now I was ready to go. I thought.

Monday morning I went to load the bags on the bike and found that two mounting bolts for my left bag were absent. One had already fallen off some time before but things still worked fine with the other and the latch in the middle on top that held it securely in place. But there was no way I was going to trust that latch all by itself with no lower support.

Of course I’m a certified holder of a man card so I have various containers of random nuts and bolts. I fished around and found four that fit. I screwed two in and put the other two in my pocket in case I needed them. Now I was ready to go.

The temperature at this point was about 40 degrees so I was fully dressed in my warmest gear, with the exception of my heated gloves. I had those but figured I could get to Kiowa without them even if it was very cold. And if it was all that cold I could then put them on before we left Kiowa. And yes, my hands did turn to ice but it was warm enough when we left that I didn’t put on the heated gloves and never did need them after that.

The ride down to Kiowa was very interesting. About the time I reached the Pinery there was fog down in the low-lying area to the west of the road. Very unusual for Colorado. And then as I continued the fog enveloped the road and I rode through it all the way to Franktown. It cleared at Franktown but then there was more on the way east on CO 86 to Kiowa. Very cool, very odd.

We had breakfast and headed out. The route was 86 to I-70 just west of Limon and then southeast on US 287. On that southeasterly stretch we encountered fierce winds out of the southwest, which is to say, at 90 degrees to us. I leaned that bike over so far that my left hand was directly in front of me and all I could see in my left mirror was my shoulder and chest. That wind never let up all day but at least once we turned due east it was not bad, mostly at our back. That is, until we got near McPherson, at which point the wind shifted to the south and so we were blasted again.

Turning south at Kit Carson, we then headed east on CO 96, which becomes KS 96 across the state line. None of us had ever been on this road before and it annoyed me to be with the group because I’ve been trying for years to get photos at all the state line crossing around the state. But I blew right through this one without stopping. That’s one reason I really prefer to travel alone.

KS 96 goes straight across Kansas to McPherson, our first night’s stop. The temperature rose, a lot. By the time we reached McPherson I was sweating profusely and had been drinking Gatorade to stay hydrated. Along the way we stopped once for gas and again for gas and lunch. That’s 421 miles with two stops, another reason I prefer to travel alone. One of those legs was 180 miles and I was dying. I’m sorry, I just don’t like that kind of riding. And I was not the only one unhappy with this; this would become an issue as the trip progressed. But the two main leaders on this ride, Bob and Dave, are both Iron Butt types and they don’t like to stop any more than necessary. I’d say stretching your legs and getting your butt off the bike for a while is necessary.

Nobody is right or wrong here, it’s just different preferences. I think in future rides I’m going to do what I can to make sure less aggressive riders like me have options. We had intended to ride in two groups but after several others dropped out the decision was made to go in one group. I suspect two groups, even if small, would have been better with one consisting of those of us who don’t care if we reach the day’s destination half an hour or an hour later. It’s not like we have a deadline.

So that was Day 1. I’ll pick back up with Day 2.

Biker Quote for Today

Any day is a good day to leave some miles behind.

It’s already April 21 and I still hadn’t ridden the V-Strom this month so that was a sure bet for today with an RMMRC ride planned. This was going to be a little different; we were just heading up to Black Hawk for lunch at one of the casinos. That’s actually more like an OFMC outing than the RMMRC.

My first order of business when I got to the gas station in Morrison where we meet was to get gas. And, I believe, for the first time in my life I paid more than $4 per gallon for gas. $4.05.9 to be exact. Yow! But you know, I’d happily pay more if that meant that Russian oil was unwanted and that would help stop Russian aggression in Ukraine.

I know some people claim Joe Biden is responsible for the hike in gas prices, not Vladimir Putin, but I call BS on that. I’m a registered Independent voter, not a Republican or a Democrat, so I call BS on anyone who deserves it. If gas prices were stable around the world but soaring in the U.S. that would be one thing, but they’re not. They’re up everywhere. Is Joe responsible for higher gas prices in Australia? In France? In Japan? OK, that’s way more politics than I normally get into here.

So there were only five of us riding this day. Bob was leading and he said he would figure out some side roads to take. I had some thoughts about his route but he proved me completely wrong. We headed up Bear Creek to Kittredge and took Kerr Gulch over to meet up with Evergreen Parkway just on the south side of I-70, cut across the highway and then followed old U.S. 40 on up Floyd Hill and down to where we hit U.S. 6 heading down Clear Creek Canyon. Then we caught the Peak to Peak Highway to Black Hawk.

Bob’s plan was the buffet at this casino but when we saw that it cost $20 there were three of us who demurred. I personally never like buffets because as a fairly small person I can usually fill up easily at any restaurant for far less than the buffet cost. Plus, I really wasn’t hungry. So I went and played some slot machines while Roy and Bruce went to the casino’s other eatery and Bob and Maynard did the buffet. Yes I gave the casino the same $20 I would have paid for the buffet but at least I had the chance to go home with more than I came with and besides, I wasn’t hungry.

The predicted high for today was in the high 70s but I had been cautious and had worn a sweatshirt and my electric vest. I had been glad to have them on the ride up as it was still cool in the morning. Leaving Black Hawk I was thinking more about getting back into town and it being hot, so I just put on the vest but stashed the sweatshirt. That proved a wise move, as even later in the day it was still darn chilly up on the Peak to Peak and even coming down Golden Gate Canyon.

When we reached the flatlands, however, it was definitely warm and I was really glad not to be wearing the sweatshirt.

Anyway, it was a beautiful day for a ride and we were all glad we had taken advantage of it. In a perfectly fitting coincidence, as I made my way home across Hampden I found myself behind a car with a sticker on the back that read “Never let a nice day go to waste.” Perfect. We didn’t.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker when you use your dishwasher to clean bike parts.

As the day for our departure on the RMMRC’s Great River Road ride I’ve been hearing from Roy, who is the group’s mother hen. Come over and get this packet of information he called me twice to request. So I did.

I’m not exactly new to long motorcycle trips, having been doing them every year with the OFMC for more than 30 years. But this will be my first long trip with the RMMRC. So this is the first time I’ve seen this sheet.

Roy gave me this legal-size page with a lot of info on it, including the names and cellphone numbers of everyone going. Good to have. It also has “The 12 Commandments of Group Riding” and information on all our motels along the way. And then there’s “The RMMRC Emergency Road Pack.” This list, divided into “must,” “should,” and “handy for emergencies,” has about anything you could think of, and maybe some you wouldn’t think of. I’m just going to give you the list, rearranged into the three groupings.

Must

• Copy of M.C. registration and proof of insurance in Ziploc bag: Keep on bike.
• Waterproof list of emergency contact numbers: Also cell #s of group riding.
• Tire gauge: Check tires before riding and needed for other list items.
• Valve core cap that can remove the core: Needed for other list items.
• Cellphone with 12V and 120V chargers: Will need in emergency.
• Spare ignition key hidden on bike–don’t forget where: a must.
• Camping tie-down straps: Long straps from BMW dealer or camping stores.
• Pressured tire sealer–Slime: Carry both for different conditions.
• Tubeless tire plug kit–mushroom type is best: Follow instructions closely.
• 12V air pump with correct plug or alligator clips: Test connectors.
• Side stand foot pad with cord for soft ground or asphalt. Use cord on handlebar.
• Water bottle: A must for long hot days!

OK, that group is definitely looking at emergency needs. I personally carry six of those items normally. I’ll think about some of the others.

Should

• Hand sanitizer and hand towels: Need for tire repair.
• Flashlight with fresh batteries–LED lasts longer: Test before long trip.
• Bike cover and old T-shirt: Pull T-shirt over windshield to protect.
• Zip ties various sizes long and short: Have gotten many riders home.
• Stainless steel zip ties long–Harbor Freight: Great for broken mounts/brackets.
• Duct tape, gorilla tape: A small amount of each.
• Baling wire or hanger wire: Around a tool or in a bag.
• Pliers with side cutters and/or vise grips: A must for working with the wire.
• Inner tire patch kit with glue: In case of a larger tear in the tire wall.
• Short tire irons (2) and extension tube tubular socket or short pipe with irons.
• Used inner tube from dealer for emergencies: Dealers throw away old inner tubes.
• Combination cable lock–no keys: Secure your jacket and helmet when parked.
• Windscreen cleaner and polish and cloth.
• First-aid kit–small: Basic kit, carry in tank bag or handy spot.
• Leaf bags large–2: Cheap, compact and have many uses.

And again, I normally carry six of those things. Truth be told, if I had a flat I would not know how to fix it so I’ve never bothered with these things. And the one time I did have a flat the tire was beyond repair, even for a short distance.

Handy for Emergencies

• MOA Anonymous Book: Worth the membership and lots of helpful folks. (OK, this is a BMW-specific thing here.)
• Small metric socket set: Handle and only sizes for your MC.
• Home-made jumper cables with alligator clips 8 to 10 feet long: Cheap to make.
• Small siphon pump with pump: Cheap at Walmart and worth it.

The only thing in that list I carry is the wrenches. But I do carry a length of tubing on all my bikes in case transferring of fuel is needed. Does that siphon pump come with a long hose? If not you’d better add that. Maybe that was supposed to read “Small siphon pump with hose.” And by the way, I’ve never had to pull out my tubes. We just make sure not to run out of gas.

As I say, this is not my first long trip but I will think about adding at least a few of the many items I don’t currently carry. Of course, the good thing about traveling with a good-sized group is that if you don’t have an item there’s a good chance someone else does. I don’t think we all need to carry every one of these items. Looking forward to this trip.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if the last time you went to the Harley dealer you came home with golf balls and a toilet seat.