Passes & Canyons Blog

You can’t tell because the image is washed out but that screen shows all 52 cards and whichever one the person blows the dart to hit is their card.

Continuing my recent series of scheduling screw-ups, I got it wrong on the Dart Run.

The Dart Run, I should explain, is a fundraising poker run put on each year by my own District 17 of ABATE of Colorado. I was prepared to be a volunteer working one of the stops on the run but they had all that pretty well settled so I figured I would do the run. That way I would at least contribute monetarily, plus I was intrigued at the whole idea of this variety of thrown/shot/whatever ways of selecting your card.

Those ways include a blow dart, ninja stars, bow and arrow, and I’m not sure what else. It sounded like fun.

Because I was not working the event I didn’t pay a lot of attention to the particulars. So Saturday when I wanted to know the schedule I went to the ABATE website and to the calendar. The event listing said 12 a.m., which I know is equivalent to midnight, but I also know not everyone is clear on whether noon is 12 a.m. or 12 p.m. I thought it a little odd to start a poker run at noon but I figured whoever put the event up on the calendar had made a mistake and really meant 12 p.m.–noon.

I showed up at The Shack, the starting and ending point at noon and there was not one bike in sight. I went in and asked and was told, “Oh yeah, they all left at 9:30.” OK. And I didn’t know the route but the waitress/bartender told me some place in the hills, then Wrigley’s and then the Rock Rest and then back to The Shack.

Now, The Shack is at the corner of Broadway and Mineral so I just headed west on Mineral, which turned out to be a road I may never have ridden that far on before. That was interesting all by itself. I got out to C-470 and went north and stopped at Wrigley’s. There was nobody there. I didn’t ask but just headed on to the Rock Rest.

At the Rock Rest I found Carol Downs who told me that actually, Wrigley’s was the first stop after The Shack, and then the group headed up to Rollinsville to a place up there. And that she had heard that it was pouring rain up there. So I hung out at the Rock Rest.

The Rock Rest itself is an interesting place. About 40 years ago I lived with my girlfriend just a short distance from there and we used to go dancing there on Saturday nights when they would have a country band playing. I haven’t set foot in the Rock Rest in perhaps 35 years. Here’s a shocker: it has changed. This funky little dive bar is now a popular local spot and it was busy on a Sunday afternoon.

Anyway, some of the folks made it down from Rollinsville and blew darts for their cards, while I did my best to shoot a usable picture in the poor light. Then I just figured I’d head on home.

But I mentioned to Carol that the website had said 12 a.m. and she said she had noticed the same thing just the day before. So hopefully future events will give an accurate starting time.

Biker Quote for Today

It’s a good day to have a good day.

It took about five of us to get this big bike up that ramp and into that truck.

Leaving Chico the next morning it was a short run up the valley to Livingston. We needed gas and right next to I-90 was a gas station. A big gas station. All the pumps in front were busy but there were more around back so I headed that way. Dennis followed.

When I looked at all the pump handles in different colors I was cautious and examined the labels on the machine. I filled my tank with gas. Dennis was not as careful, he just grabbed the red handle that in metro Denver means gasoline and filled his tank. With diesel. I’ve already told that story.

To sum up, his bike ran badly (imagine!) and a while later he pulled off hoping to dilute what he took to be bad gas with good gas. Then the bike wouldn’t start. He ended up renting a U-Haul truck and we diverted from our westward objective to head south 235 miles to Idaho Falls. The dealership got it running the next day. So now we resume the story.

Our intent had been to go to Missoula, ride Lolo Pass, and end up in Cascade, Idaho. From there we would head on to Jackpot, Nevada. There were going to be new roads none of us had ever been on in this loop, but this was not to be. We never got to Missoula and we never got to Cascade.

We did get to Jackpot, a day earlier than planned. We called ahead and the hotel could accommodate us so off we went.

Pulling into Twin Falls Bill, who was leading, made a sudden right turn that I correctly surmised was a bypass. There had never been a bypass here before but it made sense. But Bill had forgotten how far west it was to where U.S. 93 turns south so after just a couple miles he pulled over and said he wasn’t sure and wondered if we had passed the left turn. I took the lead.

Then I made a bad assumption. I figured it didn’t really matter where we turned left, we would just cut through town and find 93 and go west again. Just FYI, the north and south sides of Twin Falls are separated by a deep gorge. The only streets that go through are those with bridges, and there aren’t many of those.

We ended up wandering through neighborhoods, into and out of dead ends, and finally I found the way back to the bypass. I headed west again. Pretty soon I saw a sign that proved to me that this was the right way to go. But Bill didn’t see the sign so he caught up to me and waved me over, saying that he believed we had gone too far and needed to head back the way we had come. I told him no, follow me, and we finally reached the spot where the bypass turns south. And then we were clearly on the road to Jackpot.

We’ve always enjoyed staying in Jackpot because it’s a gambling town–and boy, does the OFMC like gambling–and they have a nice golf course. So we stay there two nights and play golf. This time, however, we were staying for three nights. And in case you’re unsure, yes, three nights in a gambling town can get expensive. Unless you win, of course, which none of us did.

We were hoping that perhaps Cactus Pete’s would have a show going on but they didn’t. Once when we were there they had had Bowser from Sha Na Na performing, plus they had a hula-hoop contest. I ended up one of the three finalists in the contest but the winner was a teenage girl who just had the technique down.

So we had three nights and it was nice to get off the bikes for a bit and to play some golf. We knew the next day’s ride was going to be a long one.

Biker Quote for Today

You’re a biker wannabe if you’re too cool to wave at the kids in the mom-mobile in front of you.

We’re not even in the park yet but it’s gorgeous just the same.

Not to take anything away from Yellowstone National Park–it’s an incredible place, no question–but we’ve been there before, as in more than 4 or 5 times. I myself have probably been to Yellowstone at least 15 times over the years. So as we headed out of Cody toward the park the main thought in our minds was, just how terrible was the traffic going to be?

Dennis had aptly noticed that riders coming into town from the west were warmly dressed, so we followed suit. Good plan; the morning was definitely cool.

One thing you need to understand is that the beautiful scenery you come to a park for does not begin at the entrance to the park. You’ll ride 20 miles west out of Cody before you actually enter the park but it is a stunningly beautiful ride. And on this morning, fresh and cool, with–as it turned out–very little traffic, it was heaven.

We got into the park, still expecting but not finding heavy traffic, and enjoyed the relaxed ride. The road runs up and over a line of hills and yes, we did get behind some campers at times, but they usually pulled over and let us pass so it was a good run. Then, approaching Yellowstone Lake, we hit a construction zone. Good-bye pavement.

Because I was on my V-Strom I actually welcomed the unpaved road, but Dennis hates it on his Indian and Bill does not love it on his Harley. No matter; you just have to do it. It’s not like we had any choices. And it wasn’t bad. Dennis and Bill said later they had no problems.

We hit pavement again at Fishing Bridge, where we turned north to run up to Canyon Village. Now we had traffic. This is a stretch where bison are common and yes, we did find ourselves behind a camper that stopped dead in the middle of the road to look at a bison. Really? You can’t pull off to the side at least? This is Yellowstone.

While I blasted on around this guy, Bill and Dennis did not, so I rode for miles with an unobstructed view at my own pace. And yes, there were a heck of a lot more bison further along. With most of the tourists pulled off to look at them, the road for me was largely unobstructed.

At Canyon Village we turned west, heading over to Norris Geyser and U.S. 89, which goes north and on out of the park. Traffic continued to move pretty well so we were making good time while enjoying an easy ride. There were more bison along here, including one big fellow who was lounging pretty much right on top of the white line at the edge of the pavement. So yeah, we steered a pretty safe distance away from him.

Then guess what? More construction zone and unpaved road. Here we go again, only this time it’s a little slick because the tanker truck we saw filling up from the stream apparently just wet the road down to control dust. But that makes things a bit trickier on street tires. Again, though, no issues. The bikes did get dirty.

Reaching Mammoth Hot Springs we passed through the village and found ourselves descending a steep incline down into the canyon of the Yellowstone River. This was when we realized that none of us had probably ever gone this way before. We had been at Mammoth Hot Springs before, but then had turned east to go out the northeast gate and on to the Beartooth Highway. Not this time.

And it was a beautiful ride. Again, the scenery doesn’t stop at the park boundary.

After lunch at Gardiner we continued north just a short distance to where we turned off for Chico and the old Chico Hot Springs resort. This is not a place you’re just going to see riding along, and it was probably a good thing Dennis had his GPS fired up to guide us to the off-the-main-road establishment.

Although we stayed in the old lodge, which features restrooms down the hall as so many old places did, there are more modern facilities where I assume the restrooms are in the rooms. But it’s a grand old place with hot springs pools, restaurants, horseback riding, hiking, and more. We opted to play Frisbee golf which, through the sage brush and going up and down hills, was some good exercise, especially after spending the last three days on the bikes. And then the hot pools were just what sore muscles needed.

Biker Quote for Today

Why bikes are better than women: Motorcycles always feel like going for a ride.

The OFMC (just three of us!) stopped along the road.

It was like the early days of the OFMC when Bill and Dennis and I took off for this year’s trip. Originally the group was three of us–Bill, John, and me. John no longer rides and a lot of others who used to ride with us have gone their separate ways so now we are back to three. We miss the camaraderie of the others but riding with three bikes–rather then ten–is a pleasure.

On a blazing hot day we headed west on I-70 and then north on U.S. 40 over Berthoud Pass and down to Winter Park and Granby. Just west of Granby we turned onto CO 125. This road goes over Willow Creek Pass to Walden, in North Park. I don’t have Willow Creek Pass on this website but after riding it a number of times I have concluded I need to add it. We’ll see if I get it done this year or not.

We have ridden Willow Creek Pass north to south before but I’m pretty sure this was the first time we’ve ridden it south to north, so it was sort of the first of several firsts on a variety of roads on this trip. And it was terrific. A really nice road through a very nice area–albeit with about a million dead pine trees–and almost zero traffic.

We stopped for lunch in Walden and as we were getting ready to head onward three other guys on bikes–younger guys–pulled in. Of course we talked. Like us in the old days, they were out for a week and had no plans as to route or stops. And like us back then, if there were no motels available they had their camping gear. The one difference was that they were on much more capable machines and their gear was probably better than even ours is today. For us in the beginning, gear consisted of two gym bags loaded with stuff tied together and thrown over the seat behind us, plus tent and sleeping bag bungeed on.

Heading north out of Walden we entered Wyoming and made our next stop at Saratoga. All we wanted besides to stretch our legs was shade–it was still blazing hot! Then on to Rawlins for the night.

In the morning we expected more heat so we didn’t put on anything for warmth. We were going to be crossing central Wyoming on U.S. 287 and that is usually a long, hot, dry run. And we got cold. In fact, we stopped twice in the first 80 miles to put on more layers because that heat just never showed up. Meanwhile, it was above 100 in Denver that day.

So north and west on 287 as far as Sweetwater Station and then north on WY 135 to Riverton. Then U.S. 26 to Shoshoni and U.S. 20 to Thermopolis. Then finally WY 120 to Cody, our destination for the day. And just a few miles out of Cody it did finally get hot.

Cody was a bustling place. Apparently the hundreds of motorcycles roaring up and down the main street were there in connection with the Beartooth Rally, which we had not been aware of. Of course, this is why we make our motel reservations in January, and this was not the only time we were glad we had done so.

Tomorrow would be crossing Yellowstone National Park. How ugly is that traffic going to be?

Biker Quote for Today

Do you really have to ask why I would want this big vibrating machine between my legs?? – Anonymous Female Racer

Take a good look at this photo. It tells the whole story.

“We’ve got a diesel truck running out there.”

Those are not the words you generally want to hear about your motorcycle. Dennis was ecstatic.

We’ll start at the beginning.

We stopped for gas in Livingston, Montana, at a big station where the pumps in front were all busy. So we went around back and filled up. Then we headed west on I-90, destination Missoula. But right from the start Dennis could tell the big Indian wasn’t running properly. Bill, just behind Dennis, smelled something that puzzled him.

After about 60 miles Dennis decided to pull off at another station. He figured he had gotten some bad gas and that adding some good gas would dilute the bad. But after he filled the tank the bike would not start at all. It wouldn’t even turn over.

Maybe that bad gas had fouled the plugs. He didn’t have the tools to pull the plugs so Bill gave him a ride to the nearest town where he bought tools. Pulling the first plug it looked just fine. Now he was truly stumped.

Checking online Dennis found that the nearest Indian dealer was in Idaho Falls, about 235 miles away. The towing company he reached said that would cost $900. A U-Haul truck, 25 miles away, would cost $260, plus he would have to buy tie-downs. A no-brainer. Bill took him to Whitehall to get the truck and we returned to the station that was now becoming a second home to us.

Now, how do you roll a non-running 800-pound motorcycle up a steep ramp into a truck? When we first got to this station there were several burly young guys around who we sorely needed. None now. We finally recruited a couple older guys who seemed kind of iffy but you take what you can get. Miraculously we were successful. Tie it down securely and off we go.

The dealership was closed by the time we got there and there were supposedly zero motel rooms available in town. Dang. However, luck was with us and we found one small, older place that had a room for us. Big sigh.

Dennis was over to the dealership before they opened in the morning and immediately got the bike checked in for work. Then we walked a few blocks for breakfast. Returning after breakfast, Dennis asked at the counter about his bike. “The dead one?” the guy asked. He turned and carried over that vial you see in the picture. It had come out of Dennis’s tank and it was red diesel. How the heck did that happen? Was the gas station accidentally dispensing diesel from a gas pump, wreaking havoc with who knows how many vehicles?

More importantly (for Dennis) was what damage might have been done. Worst case scenario is that the pistons might have seized up. Nothing to do but clean it out and see if the bike will run. This will take an hour or two.

Meanwhile Dennis pulled out his gas receipt and it said right there, “red diesel.” He was the one who made a mistake. How?

Looking at the pumps he had seen a couple with green handles and he knew that was diesel. The other handle was red. Now here’s the thing: in Colorado for the most part, red is the color for gasoline. But in the more rural areas in a place like Montana, green means regular diesel, red means red diesel, and black is the color for gas. When I filled my tank I looked at the labels on the pump. Dennis only looked at the color of the handles.

So by the way, what the heck is red diesel? Red diesel is for farm implements and construction equipment that does not use the highways. Because they don’t use the highways they are exempted from the taxes that pay for the highways. Regular diesel has a red dye added. If your semi is stopped and they find red diesel in your tank you are in trouble.

With the dire possibilities in that worst case scenario you can now see why, when the mechanic came out and said, “We’ve got a diesel truck running out there,” that Dennis was ecstatic. His motor was not destroyed, and it was running so we could actually get back on the road.

Be aware, they told him, it may smoke for awhile.

Biker Quote for Today

Why Motorcycles are Better than Men: If your motorcycle smokes, you can do something about it.

Touring season is upon us. Are you ready?

The Boy Scouts have it pretty well nailed with their motto, “Be Prepared.” And if you’re getting ready to take off on an extended trip on your bike, following those words of wisdom can help ensure that you get to really enjoy that trip.

The American Motorcyclist Association (AMA) polled their highly experienced staff and came up with “33 Secrets For Smart Touring,” and there are some good ideas here. Some are common sense but some are just good ideas you might never think of on your own. Let’s look at a few of them.

Eat at weird times. Everyone and their dog eats around 8 a.m., noon, and 6 p.m. To get in and out of restaurants in a hurry, don’t be hungry then.
OK, you can’t always do this. Especially at breakfast, unless you’re getting a very early start or a very late start, you’re going to be eating at the same time as a lot of other people. But if you can do it, it makes a lot of sense. Last summer we spent a night in Lake City, CO, and went out for breakfast along with the crowds. We picked a place where you order at one window and pick up at another. It looked like a pleasant, homey, non-chain kind of place and there were a lot of people there.

Well, a crowd can mean something good or it can mean something bad. In this case, there was a crowd because of the incredibly slow service. If you put in an order for a cup of coffee and a roll, they put your ticket at the end of the list. They worked on one order at a time, and even if they were waiting for some eggs to fry for that order they wouldn’t jump ahead and rush out something simple like coffee and a roll. Stopping there at a different time of day probably guarantees you much faster service.

On high-mileage days, you’ll feel a lot better if you carry eyedrops and use them every time you stop for gas.
Interesting. Never thought of that. Might be worth a try.

If you’re nearing the end of your riding day and want to set yourself up for a quick getaway in the morning, consider riding to the far side of the next city you reach before you stop for the night, eliminating urban traffic the next morning.
Good idea. Makes a lot of sense. But did that thought ever occur to you?

Before you take off from the hotel or campground in the morning, double check every strap on tankbags or soft saddlebags, and every latch on hard luggage.
Good idea.

Take a look back at where you were parked every time you leave someplace. You’d be amazed at what you find.
Really good idea.

On a long tour, plan for at least one day every week of doing nothing. Time is the ultimate luxury, and can mean the difference between a vacation and an endurance run.
We totally go along with this idea. We try to organize our summer trips so that we spend two nights in one place each year, and we generally play golf on our day off. Everyone likes not having to pack and load up at least one day of the trip.

If you’re traveling east or west, schedule your breakfast or dinner times near sunrise or sunset so you don’t have to stare into the sun when it’s low on the horizon.
Once again, just good common sense.

So that’s a few of the 33 tips. You can go here to see them all. (No you can’t. When this was published on Examiner.com there was a link there that led to that list, but the list appears to be gone now.)

Biker Quote for Today

Respect the proud Tar Snake.