Passes & Canyons Blog

I knew leaving on the OFMC trip this summer that as soon as I got back I would need to get a new rear tire on the V-Strom. We got back from that trip on August 1. I finally got the tire on yesterday. Yep, right away.

Of course that means I got more miles out of the old one. Really getting my money’s worth. Really running on no tread at all. You get busy, you know, and things get put off.

I’ve still been trying to work out this issue of where to take my bikes now that Joel is no longer running his own shop and this time I figured I’d take it to One Down Four Up, a place out on West Colfax where I’ve had some work done before. They’re pretty far and not particularly convenient but what the heck. I’ve been happy with their work.

So I called a few weeks ago to see about getting it in and I asked the woman I spoke with what they suggest now that the parts store that used to be right next to them had closed. It was really convenient because you could go in and buy the tire and carry it next door and hand it to them. But not any more.

She said they suggest you get the tire at Performance Cycle and bring it in. That seemed pretty odd to me because Performance Cycle is pretty far away. Why not point me to a place on Colfax? I know there are some out there.

It was good that I wondered about that. That ticked off an idea in my head. Have they perhaps moved? Well, score one for me. They have moved, and now Performance Cycle is still not exactly close but it’s a heck of a lot closer than it was before. Also, more importantly, this makes One Down Four Up a lot closer to me, too. I may just have finally solved my problem of where to take my bikes for service.

However, that did not address the issue of how to get the tire from the store to the shop. I have never, ever had to face that issue before. I’ve always just taken the bike to the mechanic and he ordered the tire and put it on. I wasn’t crazy about picking up the tire in my car and then driving it over to the shop and leaving it there, then bringing the bike later. But then I figured it depended on whether they would be able to put the tire on while I waited. If they wouldn’t then I would need to have Judy pick me up there and bring me back later, and she could just bring the tire with her when she picked me up.

Well, they could put it on while I waited so that was out. I thought about putting the tire around my waist and riding over like that but that seemed silly. Here’s a daring thought: how about if I just tie the tire on the bike behind me?

I know that, for a lot of you who probably have done this yourselves, this is the obvious and simple approach. But remember, I’ve never had to do this before. Well it was simple, as you can see in the photo. And yeah, I didn’t get it tied on as stably as I thought, so it shifted a little in transit, but it worked fine. OK, now I know.

So when I called the shop to make an appointment they said, well, we can get you in later today or first thing tomorrow. Really? That quickly? Sounds good to me, let’s do today. And they did the job promptly, for a very reasonable price. And they were nice folks. I think I know where to take my bikes from now on.

Then just a side note. On my way home I was coming across on Belleview and saw this pick-up in the right lane with a sheet of plywood hanging out of the back of its bed bent almost to the road surface. I thought that was odd but assumed it just didn’t fit in the bed any better than that. I also noticed that the car behind this truck was giving them a lot of room.

As I pulled up alongside I could see that in fact the plywood had shifted back from the cab several feet and looked like it might slide out at any moment. I waved to get the driver’s attention and motioned urgently toward his rear. He pulled right over to see what I was telling him. I just wonder if he started out with more than one sheet of plywood, because that was all he had when I saw him.

Biker Quote for Today

We mature with damages, not with age.

I’ve been to Europe several times and over that time I have developed what I considered a pretty good basic understanding of the reality over there in regard to motorcycles, or motorbikes as it were. But this recent trip has cast some doubt on what I had taken the case to be.

In short, my take had been that in cities–at least the bigger cities–many, many people ride motorbikes because traffic is dense, streets in many areas are very narrow, and really the best way to get around easily, with the minimum of aggravation, is to do so on two wheels. Sure, outside of the city you don’t tend to see so many bikes but in the cities it’s a given.

One caveat there, too. On a trip where we spent our time in the poorer, Eastern European countries, I expected to see lots of bikes but saw almost none. Inquiring, I was told that these people aspire to greater wealth and motorbikes were viewed as something only someone who had no money chose to use. It was a status thing.

My general take on the situation was formed from my experiences in places like Rome, Paris, Madrid, Rotterdam, and Barcelona. But on this trip we went to Portugal.

We got to Lisbon and the difference from Barcelona, where we had just been, was dramatic. Yes, there were a good many bikes, though nothing close to what you see in Barcelona, but a great many of those we did see were food delivery people. Like Uber Eats, which we did see, though the really big company seems to be Glovo.

But then, while there were some areas with narrow streets, Lisbon was different, not as medieval. This I learned is a direct result of a devastating earthquake that flattened most of Lisbon in 1755. And to top that off, the earthquake caused a huge tsunami that then wiped out much of what little remained. Lisbon was almost completely rebuilt after 1755, with broader, straighter streets. Still, the traffic is horrible so I don’t understand why motorbikes are not more favored.

Then we went north to Porto, Portugal’s second-largest city.

Porto definitely retains more of its medieval structure and it is extremely hilly. Narrow, winding streets, steep hills, streets jam-packed with traffic–this would seem a natural spot for motorbikes to be king. Nope. There were even fewer of them here than in Lisbon. What gives?

I have not been able to come up with a good answer to that question. And there’s really nothing more to say–I have no answer. But I sure an curious.

Biker Quote for Today

I just heard somebody say that “real women ride men with Harleys.” No way. Real women ride their own damn Harleys.

We just spent five days in Barcelona (Spain) and as always, I observed the traffic scene–i.e., the two-wheeled type–closely. I’ll tell you two things: No non-California city in the US is ready for this scene, and it is then a good thing that no such city will soon be experiencing this.

Barcelona streets are packed with traffic so vehicles frequently move slowly and even when they move fast they are slow by our norms. And because traffic moves so slowly, the filtering and lane-splitting are constant.

We took a cab one day. The right-hand curb lanes on busy streets are reserved for buses and taxis so those types of vehicles can make better time. Of course motorcycles use that lane a lot. And apparently they’re allowed to, either officially or unofficially.

Let me make a side note here. In Europe they tend to use the word “motorbike” and that’s actually probably a better word for them. The highly dominant two-wheeler is the step-through scooter, like the Vespas of old. There are also real motorcycles but anything over 500cc is rare. Baggers are non-existent.

But you also have plenthy of the stand-up scooters that have become popular, plus lots of power-assisted bicycles–ebikes. And of course plain old people-powered bicycles and skateboards. All of these, for our purposes, can be grouped under the term “motorbikes.”

OK, back to the narrative. I was saying we took a cab.

The one problem with taking the right-hand cab and bus lane is that both of these conveyances are prone to making stops. And when they do you can end up sitting a while before they move again.

The obvious thing to do is go around them but that means merging into the next lane and on our cab ride, as the cab would start to insinuate its way in, the motorbikes behind the cab would dart into the opening and block the cab out of the space it had created. We missed getting through red light cycles a couple times for exactly that reason.

Our cab driver stayed totally cool, showing no frustration or aggravation. I’m sure because he deals with this all day every day. And he was vigilantly watchful for these scooters and all.

How do you suppose a typical American driver is likely to respond to something like this? Rhetorical question. We know the answer.

So no, no non-California city in the US is ready for this but it’s not going to happen anywhere any time soon. In Europe motorbikes are everywhere by the thousands. Until Americans take up two-wheeled travel in those kinds of numbers that kind of scene cannot develop. And hopefully, as it will happen gradually–if it ever does–we’ll all have time to adapt to it just as gradually. Until it feels normal.

How crazy would that be?

Biker Quote for Today

Why did the motorcycle stay at home? It was two-tired.

Have you ever parked your motorcycle and come back to it later to find it laying on the ground? If you ride a Harley, probably not. Those broad, sweeping kickstands hold things really solidly. Not so much with a lot of other bikes. But sometimes even Harleys can fall.

On the second ever OFMC trip we were headed back into Colorado from New Mexico when we got caught in a cloudburst. We just rode through it and we dried off quickly enough but by the time we reached Alamosa that moisture and subsequent evaporation combined to bring us hypothermia. We headed for the nearest coffee shop and sat there for two hours drinking pot after pot of coffee, trying to stop shaking.

As an aside, coffee is not the best thing to drink in this situation. You’ll get a lot better results if you drink something like hot chocolate. Just FYI.

When we finally got warmed up we figured it was time to find a motel, so we walked on out to the bikes. Well, guess what. This coffee shop’s parking lot was newly repaved and the day was a really hot one. John’s kickstand, which was pretty vertical with a small foot, had sunk right into that asphalt and his bike had toppled over onto Bill’s, with both of them going down.

OK, lesson learned. From then on when it was hot and we were on asphalt we knew to find a flattened aluminum can or a broad rock or something to put under the stand. Later we all acquired pucks to carry with us. We do learn.

A couple years later, on a trip where John’s son Johnathon was with us, we were up in Idaho, heading north from Arco. At some point we spotted a nice, shady spot to pull over and take a break. We weren’t on pavement or rock but no big deal. Until, as we lounged there taking it easy, there came a crash. Johnathon’s bike–the one that had been John’s and knocked Bill’s bike over previously, had sunk into the soft dirt and gone down. At least no other bikes were involved and Johnathon, too, now learned the lesson.

A couple years after that, with Dennis now part of the group, we were up in Wyoming in the Bighorn Mountains. We stayed at a lodge where the people were so creepy it gave us thoughts of the Stephen King novel and movie, “The Shining,” but that’s a whole other story.

It rained hard that night. No problem, the parking lot was gravel. Well, maybe gravel and sand. And Dennis came out in the morning to find his Gold Wing laying on its side, with the kickstand sunk deeply into the more sand than gravel spot where he left it. Dang.

Now, those are the kinds of falls that even a Harley would be vulnerable to, because when the ground is soft even something broad and flat will sink. But it’s especially likely with a very vertical stand with a small foot. Such as on my Honda CB750. Or my old Kawasaki Concours. Or my Suzuki V-Strom. Are you catching my drift?

It was not long at all after I first bought the CB750 that I rode over to meet John and his wife Cheryl at a park where they were watching Johnathon playing soccer. When I parked the bike the ground was sloped such that it was standing up pretty straight but I figured it would be fine. Wrong. We came back to the bike and there it was on the ground. Apparently just the wind was enough to tip it too far.

Then there was the day I was out on the Connie and parked along a street with a pretty good crown to it. Which is to say, with the kickstand on the left and a slope to the right, that bike was quite upright. And yeah, I came back to it and it was down.

And then later I got the V-Strom and on one of my first rides with it I was with a group down along the Platte River up in the hills and we pulled off by the river. I jockeyed that thing a good bit to be sure I had it somewhere where it would be OK but I misjudged. I got off, walked away, and had only gotten about 10 feet when there was this big crash behind me. Dang. Dang. Dang.

There have been others. And there’s always something that breaks. I guess it’s all just part of the expense of riding motorcycles. It sure has been for me.

Biker Quote for Today

100 reasons not to date a biker: 30. Yes, the bike gets a Christmas gift.

If you ride in a group it’s the generally accepted practice that you are responsible for making sure the guy behind you is still there. And if he’s not you slow down to let him catch up, and if he still doesn’t show maybe you stop and wait. And if he still doesn’t show you go back.

My friend Jungle always says that if you stop you should wait five minutes before going back. If the guy behind is OK, five minutes won’t matter. If he’s dead it won’t matter either.

Now, that’s not to say that the OFMC has always followed this rule. I was heading west on I-70 behind Brett and Randy one time when I had a flat just east of Rifle. I pulled over but I couldn’t get off the bike because the road sloped away and if I put out my kickstand the bike was going to fall to the right. Fine, I’ll just wait here until they come back for me.

Well, they didn’t. After awhile I started waving at any bikers passing on the highway, hoping someone would stop to give me a hand. Several did pass, and seemed like they wanted to stop, but they were going fast and by the time they could have stopped they would have been a quarter mile down the road. But finally a couple did stop, and they started hoofing it back to where I was.

Just at that time a guy in a pick-up came along and he stopped. Do you need help? You bet I do. He helped me hoist the bike up onto the center stand, which is amazingly hard to do when you have a flat tire–not sure why. So by the time the biker couple got there all I could say was thanks a whole lot but I don’t need you any more. But thank you so much.

It turns out that Brett and Randy noticed I was not behind them so they pulled off at Rifle. But the exit goes downhill, to where you can’t see the vehicles passing by above on the highway. After sitting there a few minutes they decided I must have just gone on past them on the highway so they took off again. Wrong. Once I was finally able to rejoin the whole group the next day neither of them said one word, like “Oops” or “Sorry” or anything. Jungle told me, “You need new friends.”

Which brings me back to Bill and Ken’s really bad practical joke.

We were up in Wyoming one time coming down a highway in the middle of nowhere, me riding sweep and Bill just in front of me. We got to a fork and I don’t know how we knew this but we knew that if we took the fork to the right it would rejoin this same road a little further along. The other guys were going to the left. Presumably, considering when this was, Bill must have pulled over at the fork and when I pulled up next to him he suggested that we take this other road and ride fast and be waiting for them up ahead. A fun surprise.

So we peeled off and we got to where the roads rejoined and we sat and waited. And waited. And waited. Oops, you don’t suppose they noticed we weren’t there and are looking for us? Bill headed back on the road they were coming on while I sat at the intersection in case someone came the other way. And of course that’s what it was. They were looking all over for us, riding back the way we had all come and getting very concerned.

Considering how unorganized we were back then, the ploy might have worked except that just a quarter mile past the fork there was a rest area and the group pulled off. It was not hard to realize we were not there. Where are those guys? When did you see them last? They found out when Bill got all the way back to that spot.

They were not happy. They wouldn’t let us live that one down for a long time. What in the world made us think this would be a clever trick?

I do think that after my flat by Rifle everyone in the group really came to understand that you are responsible for keeping an eye on the guy behind you, so we’re not unteachable.

Biker Quote for Today

100 reasons not to date a biker: 20. We smell like leather and gasoline.

The OFMC has never been as thoroughly safety-minded as the RMMRC but we’re human, we’re interested in preserving our own skins. So for 35 years we have ridden safely, with the worst crash being the one Friggs had in 2018 down in New Mexico. Very uncharacteristically, he had chosen that day to ride without his jacket but after going down his jeans were torn, his shirt was torn, and otherwise he was barely bruised. Amazingly.

The one thing that was badly damaged was his helmet. If you ever think a helmet is unneeded, just take a look at a helmet that has been through a serious crash. Then think about what that head underneath would have been like without it.

Now sure, everyone has dropped their bike in a parking lot or that sort of thing. Nobody’s gotten hurt. In all these years no one other than Friggs has ever gone down, which probably makes us one heck of a fortunate bunch. But we have had some close calls.

Probably the closest, the one that most likely could have led to death, was Dennis up in the Black Hills in 2014. We were staying several days in Hill City, doing day rides, and we were out on one of the many great roads up there and stopped at an intersection of two highways. We did whatever needed doing and were getting geared up and back on the bikes.

We were on one side of the road but needed to go the other way so I pulled out across the road onto the shoulder on the other side, facing the other direction. Dennis was the next to get ready. Now, you have to understand, Dennis is short. He had all the other guys between him and the road so he couldn’t really see up the road. There were also all these Harleys making a heck of a racket so he couldn’t hear anything either. He started across the road to join me.

What Dennis could not see, but all the rest of us did, was the semi coming right toward him. I know I was screaming but what good does that do? He couldn’t hear me. The others were screaming, too, and then there was the screeching of the brakes on that big truck. Did I mention that Dennis is also hard of hearing?

He got about halfway across the road and looked to his left and saw this truck screeching up toward him. His heart must have stopped for a moment. Fortunately the trucker was able to stop in time but for a moment it looked like the worst was about to happen. We didn’t ever want to see something like that again.

But then apparently it happened again, and this time it was me. I say “apparently” because I was totally oblivious to it all. I knew nothing until the guys told me later.

This was in 2023 up in the far northwest corner of Wyoming. I was leading and we were looking for a place for lunch. We came up on a restaurant but I couldn’t tell if it was open until I was past it. The other guys pulled over. I pulled over to turn around and go back. What they tell me is that as I pulled back onto the highway there was a car coming fast that I pulled right in front of. And that guy braked really hard. Yikes! I don’t see how that could have happened. It’s not like I don’t look both ways before pulling out, you know. But I got to the parking lot and Bill and Dennis both started yelling wildly and I had to ask what they were so excited about. Really? That happened? Big oops.

Then later on this same trip Bill had his moment but it was not of his doing. We were now in Idaho cruising down this highway with me in the lead, then Bill, then Dennis. A car passed me going the other way and then turned left right in front of Bill. You know the story. Fortunately, Bill avoided crashing into the guy. I’m convinced that it had to do with Dennis’s lights.

Dennis wants to be seen, so he has super bright lights that I say can be seen from space. Well, Bill’s stock headlight is really not very bright at all. I ride in front of him a lot and I know this. My suspicion is that the guy in the car absolutely saw Dennis’s lights but did not see Bill’s weak beam at all. He had plenty of time to turn in front of Dennis. Only problem is that Bill was there. I told Bill he needs brighter lights but he pooh-poohed that. Fine, it’s your life.

Other than that we’ve had the usual close calls. Like this year when we were heading into Buena Vista and a car going the other way decided to pass someone on a blind curve–just as I was coming around the curve from the other direction. Bill and I both pulled onto the shoulder to get out of that idiot’s way.

That kind of stuff is routine, unfortunately. But all in all it’s pretty amazing how well we’ve done over the years. We do care about our own skin.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if you wear a full-face helmet; you wear a helmet; you wear earplugs. (Who the heck compiled this list? I’m sorry I have to take exception.)

Revisiting the OFMC’s California trip the other day got me to thinking about how jerry-rigged the whole thing was even then. Yes, we did have good rainsuits, probably the first thing we learned early on that we needed. But what about things like a throttle lock or cruise control?

We rode a lot of days on that trip where we covered many miles and as I would imagine you know, holding onto that throttle grip for that long can get pretty dang tiring. But if you read that post you may be saying, What? How did Bill ride 35 miles hands-free if you didn’t have throttle locks?

Well, John is pretty inventive. What he rigged out for the two of them–I was OK just holding onto the grip–was a string tied to the handlebar with a Popsicle stick on the other end. They would get up to speed and insert that Popsicle stick between the grip and the float, wedging it in tightly enough that it would stay. It didn’t always stay put but hey, you just grab it and stick it back in. They covered a lot of miles like that.

And these long days were even longer than they might have been. Right from the start I have always insisted on having a windshield on my bikes. Those guys were just the opposite. Neither of them had windshields on their Shadows.

Now, John had had one on his Virago up until the time he and I spent a night out in Laramie doing some heavy drinking and he then went down on a patch of gravel making the turn into our motel. He got a little road rash was all, but his windshield was busted and rather than replace it he just took it off and rode without. Then he got the Shadow and it didn’t come with one and he never put one on.

OK, so fine, to each his own. But on this trip, when we were covering so many miles, I naturally wanted to run a little fast. But guess what? They didn’t like the buffeting they got from the wind so they didn’t want to go fast. In fact, much of the time they wouldn’t even go the speed limit. It’s a long ride across Utah and Nevada if you don’t even go the speed limit.

Neither of these guys ever got windshields until they each moved on to their first Harleys, which came with fairings. Then they wondered how they had ever done without them. I had wondered that for a long time before that. At least we all had gotten throttle locks eventually on the older bikes but windshields? Nope.

So that’s the low tech and the no tech. The high tech–at least relatively speaking–was, as I mentioned before, heated gear. It didn’t matter how cold they got on this trip while we were along the coast. And it didn’t matter how cold they got any other time, whether we were on the trip or just doing a day ride. And we did one day ride where we got surprised by an unexpected snow storm. They never got heated gear, despite complaining about being so cold and hearing me rave about my electric vest. And then later my heated gloves. OK guys, your choice.

Of course, now I’m the one who doesn’t have an actual cruise control on either of my bikes. And the throttle lock on my V-Strom really doesn’t work very well. But retrofitting them with cruise control would be a real job and costly, if they even make units that would work on those bikes. That’s what I’ve got my eyes set on with the next bike I get. Whatever I get, assuming I ever buy another bike, I really, really want cruise control.

Biker Quote for Today

Why motorcycles are better than women: Your motorcycle won’t leave you for another rider.

After my previous ride up Deer Creek Canyon, where I noticed for the first time the road labeled Oehlmann Park Road, I was interested in seeing that road. I had a hunch it went up onto a hill where there are a lot of homes and some confusing streets. If I was right this was where Bob had taken us one day on an RMMRC ride where it seemed he got lost and we ended up going back down and out the way we came in. I wanted to find out.

Assuming I was correct about that, I knew it could get confusing coming from the Turkey Creek Road side. A look at the map shows a bowl of spaghetti where one wrong turn could get you way off track. But coming from the other side, the Pleasant Park Road side, the confusion looked less likely. That was my route.

So again I went west across town, to the road up Deer Creek Canyon, again turning south on Deer Creek Road, to Oehlmann Park Road. The fun begins.

I have to tell you, I really don’t understand people who live up in areas like this. It’s beautiful for sure, but with the steep hills and 180-degree switchbacks I encountered, driving this road would be horrible at best when icy in the winter. In the meantime, in the summer on a motorcycle, they were terrific.

And yes, I was correct about this being where we had been before. I recognized a couple spots and saw where we had gone astray last time. Now, looking at the map shows that even if you do get off on a wrong street, if you keep going you’ll usually end up back on the main road–but you’ll be on gravel until you do.

So anyway, there is one road up there named City View Drive and oh my gosh, what a terrific view toward the city! It really would be a nice place to live as long as you just don’t go home all winter.

Coming down the other side I found myself running along with a guy on a bicycle. I passed him when it was safe but then all the way down he just kept right up with me. Then we both turned north on Turkey Creek Road and still he kept up with me for quite awhile till I eventually left him behind.

In the meantime, looking at the map before I set off that morning I happened to notice another road I’d never paid attention to before. I was going to be taking County Road 64 up from where it ran off from US 285, going up to CR 73, which goes into Evergreen. This road, High Drive, looked to be a shorter route going to Evergreen. And most importantly, I’d never been on it. Time to address that deficiency.

But first I had to get screwed up. There are three places to access US 285 from Turkey Creek Road: on the west where it comes out just east of Conifer, in the middle by the Twin Peaks Tavern, and at the north end just beyond Tiny Town. I was thinking I needed the road going across 285 north of Tiny Town so that’s where I headed. But then I found myself going up through Indian Hills to the Parmalee Gulch area and that was just wrong. Time to stop and look it up on Google Maps on my phone.

Sure enough, I needed North Turkey Creek Road, the one going past the tavern. No problem. By then I wasn’t sure I remembered the name of the road, but I was thinking High. And then, too late to make the turn, I saw the sign for High Drive. Now I had to turn around–not easy on a narrow, winding canyon road with no shoulder.

I finally found a place to do it safely and turned back. This time I made the turn onto High Drive. Another first time road!

As with Oehlmann Park Road, right away I found myself on steep hills and switchbacks. Cool. I just followed the road all around, seeing all kinds of both fancy, expensive homes and cheap little bungalows that now must be worth a million dollars. And I was wondering where this came out in Evergreen.

When I did get to Evergreen I still wasn’t sure where I was, until I found myself at the main intersection in the old part of town and realized I had come out onto CR73 just half a mile south of there. The road I had come out on by now was no longer High Drive, but Little Cub Creek Road. Cool. Now I know.

So was I just going to head on home down Bear Creek Canyon? You know, roads look different going the opposite direction. I turned around and went right back the way I came. Then it was just US 285 all the way home.

I love exploring. And it didn’t hurt that it was an absolutely perfect fall day.

Biker Quote for Today

“I Can Speak To My Soul Only When The Two Of Us Are Off Exploring Deserts Or Cities Or Mountains Or Roads!” -– Paulo Coelho