Passes & Canyons Blog

I make a point to ride each of my bikes at least once every calendar month, year-round. But so far here in January 2023 I had not been able to get out of the neighborhood because our street was covered in ice.

Last week we had a few warm days and I saw my opportunity approaching. There were patches of exposed asphalt but other big patches of impassable ice. But lanes of asphalt were starting to appear. So I went out with my shovel to give nature a helping hand.

I got out there and was surprised and pleased to see the neighbor three doors down out with an ice breaker busting up the ice in front of his house. We joined forces and after maybe an hour and a half we had carved a passageway most of the way down the block. All I needed was to get to the end of the block because the cross street down there was already clear.

Mick said he had other places he needed to go and I was tired so we weren’t going to do it all right then. He said he would leave his ice breaker leaning against his garage so I could use it. I rested for about an hour and then went back out to finish the job. I was following the path of least resistance so the last stretch I cleared had some curves in it. You can see that in the photo. But I figured I could handle that sort of maneuvering.

The next day, Saturday, was the day. Around noon I got on the V-Strom, fired it up, and headed down the street. It turned out that twisting path was not as easy on the bike as I had expected so I did end up clipping a bit of ice on the tightest corners but I got out and did a short ride. Coming home I took it really slow and managed the pathway but decided to come back with my shovel and clear some more.

That was when I noticed that nature had opened up much of a better route than mine and all I needed to do was scoop away some soft ice that separated that lane from mine. Now I had a good path. I went back and got on the Honda.

I got out on the Honda but didn’t go far. Something just didn’t feel right. It didn’t seem to be running properly. Not wanting to get too far from home in case I had problems, I just rode around a bit close by until the engine was fully warmed and then headed home. I still don’t know what’s going on; I’ll deal with that later.

Then it was time to take the Kawi out. And while it readily turned over, it just did not want to catch. I kept cranking and cranking and cranking and while it did catch at one point, it quickly died. Now what the heck? But I kept trying and it finally did start and keep running. And once I got out on the road it ran beautifully. It was just that trouble starting. I’ll just hope that it was because it hadn’t been run since early December.

So it was a beautiful day to ride, and I saw a bunch of other guys out on their bikes. Judging from the weather forecast this was going to be the last good day to ride for at least another week so lots of people took advantage of it while they had it.

It’s always iffy at this time of year; you take your opportunities when they knock. I may not get out again this month, who knows. But at least all three bikes got a January run, even if they were short.

Biker Quote for Today

Ride as much or as little, or as long or as short as you feel. But ride.

On Tuesday morning I headed out early because I had a long way to go. By the following evening I needed to be at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon to meet up with John and Bill. I had miles to burn.

My destination that first day was Durango. I had a friend, Donna, who lived there with her future husband, Neil. I figured I’d spend the night with them.

This was at the time the longest one-day ride I had ever done. And I hadn’t gone far when I felt the need to stretch out my legs so I went to put my feet up on my highway pegs . . . and discovered the left one wasn’t there. It was there when I took the bike in the shop but it wasn’t there now. More anger. Not to mention lack of comfort.

I got to Durango and found my way to Donna and Neil’s, exhausted. I know for a fact that she was not thrilled to have me show up in a foul mood complaining loudly and bitterly about these jerks who had shafted me so badly. I understand that. But I figured my anger was more than justified and surely they could understand that and would sympathize.

At least as far as the highway peg was concerned, Neil did me a big favor. He fished out an aluminum tube about seven inches long and used duct tape to attach it in the appropriate spot. Thank you so much, Neil. And I spent the night and headed out in the morning. That wasn’t where this part of the story ended, though. About a year later, when Donna and Neil were getting married, I only heard about the wedding indirectly. I thought there must be some mistake; surely I should have been invited. I called Donna and she told me that no, they didn’t want me at their wedding because I would bring too much negativity. I was stunned. Sometime later we did patch over this rift but that was just one more disservice those jerks at the shop did me.

I headed on to the North Rim. Another hard day’s ride and I was there, and with a little luck I found Bill and John’s campsite. But they weren’t there so I went looking for them. First I went to the lodge, which was nearby. I didn’t find them there so I speculated that they had gone out to view the sunset somewhere. Figuring that what I would have done was to go out to an area called Cape Royal, 23 miles from the lodge on a slow, twisty road. So I headed out there.

It was a long ride, probably at least 45 minutes. And they weren’t there. Nothing to do but head back. But before I got anywhere close to all the way back the bike started to sputter and then died. It was getting dark, I was very tired, I was out on a lonely road with nothing and nobody around, and my bike was dead. I broke. It was more than I could take. Standing beside the bike I pounded my fists savagely on the seat screaming “God damn it! God damn it! God damn it!”

Then I had a thought. Maybe I had just run out of gas. Maybe I could flip to Reserve and the bike would run. I did and it did. Hallelujah!!!

I headed back to camp as fast as I could and when I got there and saw Bill and John I had never in my life been so happy to see them. What a day!

In the morning we stopped at the gas station there by the lodge and it was then that I noticed how thin the rubber was on my front tire. I had looked at it just the day before and it had a lot more tread then. I showed it to Bill and John and that was when we all learned just how important it is to keep proper air pressure in your tires. Let the air pressure run too low and you can burn off thousands of miles of tread in just a few hundred miles.

The rest of the trip was good and as soon as we got home I headed over to the shop. I wanted my highway peg and, guess what, my bike was still leaking oil and my pant leg was still getting splattered with oil. That’s what this whole business had been about in the first place. Here’s where the guy at the counter showed what a total jerk he was. First off, he pointed to the job ticket and how all it said was do a ring job. There was nothing there about stopping an oil leak. The ticket that I’m certain he wrote up deliberately in precisely that manner. And no matter what I could say he just blew me off.

And then I brought up the highway peg. Oh no, he blustered, we’re not responsible for that. Fortunately, the mechanic who had done some or all of the work was right there and he said wait a minute. He ran in back and came out with the peg. Middle finger to you, counter guy.

There is some justice in this world, however. I learned about a month later that this shop had gone out of business. Closed their doors. Kaput. Gosh, I can’t imagine why.

Biker Quote for Today

Quick fixes are named for how long they stay fixed.

On that OFMC trip to the Grand Canyon where the communicators were useless I mentioned that Bill and John had to leave without me and we had to meet up later. Why was that?

For as long as I had owned this 1980 Honda CB750 Custom it had leaked oil. I would go for a ride and by the time I got home the lower portion of my right pant leg would be spattered with oil. Not a wonderful thing. So about six weeks before we were to leave on the trip I decided to do something about it.

I took the bike to a repair shop and told them I wanted the leak stopped. I didn’t really know what it would take to do that, but I trusted that they would. The guy at the counter had a much better idea of the situation, though, and he totally set me up. For what it’s worth, I figure what was needed was gaskets. At least, that’s my take on it now. But what he seemed to understand was that even a new set of gaskets was not a guarantee of no leaking.

So he told me, gosh, we’re going to have to tear the whole engine down to do that so while we’ve got it apart it might make good sense to give it a ring job, too. I was naive and trusting so I said OK, do that. Then he wrote up the ticket saying that the repair needed was the ring job. He made no mention of stopping an oil leak.

I made sure to tell him I was leaving on a trip in six weeks and the bike absolutely had to be ready by then. I didn’t see how that could be hard to do and he assured me that they would have it for me long before our departure date. So I left the bike in their hands.

What I learned later was that this shop was struggling financially. At this time of year they could make a lot more money doing quick jobs like new tires and oil changes, whereas tearing my bike down and doing my work was nowhere near as remunerative on an hourly basis. So they put their attention toward the cash flow jobs. Time went by and I didn’t get a call so I called them. No, it was not ready yet, but no problem, they would definitely have it for me in time. OK.

More time passed and I called again. Same answer. OK. And more time passed and now I was getting nervous. Same answer: they’d have it for me in time.

Finally, about three days before departure I called again and this time the jerk at the counter said no, there’s no way they’re going to have it ready for me in three days. That would be a Friday. The best they could do, he said, was have it for me on Monday. Can you say angry!? But what could I do? And what could Bill and John do? So they left without me, and we made plans to meet up in a few days.

I was livid. This was utterly inexcusable and clearly these guys didn’t give a rat’s patootie about me as a customer. And the thing was, this was a much bigger deal to me than it might have in other circumstances. But the thing was, when I bought this bike it was at the absolute lowest point of my life, before and since. I was at absolute bottom. And I bought the bike and it brought me unbridled joy! It literally gave me something to live for, at a time when I desperately needed something to live for. And in the nearly three years since I bought it it had been nothing but pure, absolute joy to me. And now, for the first time ever, there was anger and negativity connected with it. And I resented that bitterly! That they could introduce negativity into my relationship with the bike was beyond despicable. Unforgivable. The very worst blow they could strike. I hated the guy at the counter with the deepest passion.

And would they actually have the bike ready for me on Monday? Well, they did, though not until Monday afternoon, too late for me to even get started till Tuesday morning. So I picked it up Monday afternoon, took it home, packed, and got ready for an early Tuesday departure. Finally.

I’ll pick up the story next time; it’s far from over.

Biker Quote for Today

Sometimes I ride my motorcycle to nowhere to see nothing just so I can ride my motorcycle.

Every year after the first of January I look at my mileage for the year just ended. I did pretty well in 2022; rode the motorcycles more and put exactly 12 more miles on my car than I did in 2021.

First the car, because that’s my primary basis of comparison. I drove my car all of 2,506 miles. I wasn’t far off that with the Concours and well beyond it on the V-Strom. Nowhere close with the Honda, though.

The Honda only got ridden 729 in 2022. That’s down from 1,086 the year before. Which is a bit surprising to me considering that I thought I was trying to make a deliberate point of riding it regularly. Oh well, I’ll do better in 2023. And I’m also going to put some money into some work this good old bike is in need of.

The Concours had a better year than the CB750: 2,354 miles. That is up from 2,002 miles in 2021 and, as I said, almost as much as the car. Just 152 miles shy of the car. The Kawi got to go on the OFMC trip so it got a lot of miles off that one.

The champion this time around was the V-Strom. I rode that bike 3,866 miles in 2022. It got to go on the RMMRC Great River Road Ride and that was a good long jaunt. I hadn’t planned it that way. I was going to ride the Concours but had to make a last minute change when I discovered the valve stem on one of its tires was totally rotted away. It’s good to have more than one motorcycle.

Altogether that adds up 6,949 miles on motorcycles in 2022, versus 2,506 in my car. I may not put really big miles on any of my vehicles the way a lot of people do but by gosh, I do most of my getting around on the bikes. I kind of like it that way.

Biker Quote for Today

I love being on my bike, but I don’t consider that a sport: it’s too pleasant.

I made it out to Golden Saturday for the Last Brass Monkey Run, ABATE of Colorado‘s annual year-end event, but I sure as heck was not on a motorcycle. While the main roads were mostly clear, my street still had an inch of ice on it. Normally when it snows as much as it had just done a couple days earlier the city sends a plow down the middle of the street, but that never happened this time.

So I drove. As did a whole lot of other people apparently. It was the biggest turn-out for this thing in quite a few years. It used to be ABATE would reserve the entire Grizzly Rose venue and it would be full, but in recent years attendance has dropped severely–I have no idea why. I was going to insert a photo from the days when this was a really big deal but apparently I’ve got all those old shots archived somewhere. I need to get my photos organized better.

There were nowhere near enough people to fill the Grizzly Rose but at the Rock Rest it was a nice crowd. And for me it was nice to see a bunch of folks again who I hadn’t seen in a while. I used to attend my ABATE district meeting every month but about a year ago I decided it wasn’t really that good a use of my time. I’m interested in ABATE’s legislative work and there hasn’t been much motorcycle-related stuff going on at the legislature.

One of those folks I saw was Stump, who is ABATE’s legislative liaison. I asked him what is coming up this year and once again it doesn’t sound like much. He talked about maybe working to get Colorado to drop its designation of motorcyclists as (vulnerable? at-risk? something like that) road users. Why? Apparently in some states that is now being used as an excuse to call for mandatory helmet laws. If these people are at risk, then by golly let’s make them protect themselves.

I’m all in favor of wearing a helmet and I always do but I am one of those who believe it should be up to the rider to decide. As is ABATE in general. As is the American Motorcyclist Association.

Anyway, there doesn’t seem to be much going on so I no longer attend meetings, so it was good to see these folks again.

Back in the day, too, you used to see a lot of folks showing up on December 31 on motorcycles. This year there was only one. And years ago, it was actually a ride. Starting from various points around the area people would gather and ride to the Grizzly Rose. Not anymore. It’s too unpredictable with the weather so they have created an all in one room poker run instead. (My worthless hand came out to be an ace high. Not anywhere close to a winner.)

Still, it’s the last biker event of the year. So I went. And I had a good time. What more can you ask for?

Biker Quote for Today

I don’t have a bucket list but my bikeit list is a mile long.

I’ve come to appreciate the lame duck sessions of Congress because sometimes it seems like that is one of the only times when things get done. All sessions long the members work to sabotage efforts from the other party, who cares what would actually be good for the country. Finally, in the lame duck session, when members who are not returning finally feel free to vote their conscience rather than the party line, they do just that.

Now, I’m not sure this piece of legislation is one of those, but it did manage to squeak through before the end of the session. I’ll let the Motorcycle Riders Federation tell it:

Hello all motorcycle riders, I hope you all had an excellent Christmas. Bikers received an early Christmas present from our Congressional people. The motorcycle profiling bill that we have worked on hard since 2016, has scored a major victory. The Senate passed their version of the profiling bill back in 2018. We have not been able to get the House of Representatives to bring their version to the floor for a vote. BUTTTTT! Through the efforts of all of you who filled out the Motorcycle Profiling Project Survey and supported the hard dedicated work of the MRF, and our friendlies and supporters and co-signers in Congress, House Resolution 366 was brought to the House floor last Friday, Dec.23. In one of the last actions by the 117th Congress, H.R.366, the Motorcycle Profiling Resolution, was PASSED! We are awaiting President Biden’s signature. I hope this news puts a bit of icing on your Christmas cake. Keep supporting the MRF and the work we do– for all bikers. See ya on down the road, Bear CO MRF REP

Another thing I’m not totally clear on is whether this is even legislation. As a resolution, is it a law? Or just a suggestion that Congress is saying “We’d very much like you to do this, but we’re not going to give you an order.” I think maybe the latter. Here’s the text of the resolution; decide for yourself.

Whereas motorcycle ridership has continued to increase over time with registrations growing from 3,826,373 in 1997 to 13,158,100 in 2018;
Whereas, as of December 31, 2020, the ongoing National Motorcycle Profiling Survey (2015–2020), conducted by the Motorcycle Profiling Project, found that approximately 1/2 of the motorcyclists surveyed felt they had been profiled by law enforcement at least once, and approximately 90 percent of survey participants urge their State and Federal elected officials to legislatively address the issue of motorcyclist profiling;
Whereas motorcyclist profiling means the illegal use of the fact that a person rides a motorcycle or wears motorcycle-related apparel as a factor in deciding to stop and question, take enforcement action, arrest, or search a person or vehicle with or without legal basis under the Constitution of the United States;
Whereas complaints surrounding motorcyclist profiling have been cited in all 50 States;
Whereas nationwide demonstrations to raise awareness and combat motorcyclist profiling have been held in multiple States;
Whereas, in 2011, the State of Washington signed into law legislation stating that the criminal justice training commission shall ensure that issues related to motorcyclist profiling are addressed in basic law enforcement training and offered to in-service law enforcement officers in conjunction with existing training regarding profiling;
Whereas reported incidents of motorcyclist profiling have dropped approximately 90 percent in the State of Washington since the 2011 legislation was signed into law; and
Whereas, as of 2020, Maryland, Louisiana, and Idaho passed laws addressing the issue of motorcyclist profiling: Now, therefore, be it
Resolved, That the House of Representatives—
(1) promotes increased public awareness on the issue of motorcyclist profiling;
(2) encourages collaboration and communication with the motorcyclist community and law enforcement to engage in efforts to end motorcyclist profiling; and
(3) urges State law enforcement officials to include statements condemning motorcyclist profiling in written policies and training materials.

Either way, it’s good to see some success after all this time.

Biker Quote for Today

You are one ride away from a good mood.

By the time John and Bill and I, collectively the OFMC, were getting ready for our third annual trip we had concluded it would be nice to communicate while riding. Up to this point we had depended on hand signals but that meant you had to ride up alongside someone and then make the appropriate motion. Workable but not optimal.

Back in those days we didn’t have a lot of money, which was a big part of the reason we did these trips as much on the cheap as we could. We knew you could get in-helmet communication systems but they were expensive.

I think I was the one who got the idea to check out these inexpensive communicators from Radio Shack. We all three met up one day at a Radio Shack in Lakewood and inquired about these things. What they were was just a chunk of hardware connected by a cord to an ear plug. You put the ear plug in place and just talk and the sound moves through your head via the bone and is picked up and transmitted. Obviously, the speaker is in the earpiece.

We each put an earpiece in our ears and then we walked around, and Bill even went outside to the parking lot. We could hear each other fine, so we figured this would do the job. Great. Pay for them and we’re set. Did we try them out on our bikes before the trip? No. That would have made too much sense.

Our departure on this trip was complicated by the fact that a shop I took my bike to for some pre-trip work totally screwed me over. I’m sure I’ve told that story here before and it’s too long to get into now so suffice it to say, they did not have my bike ready by the departure date. So Bill and John took off without me, with an understanding that I would meet them at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon in a few days.

Meanwhile, they took off with their earpieces in and expected to chat as they rode. Sorry, no dice.

What I only came to learn some time later is that radio signals are affected by motion, and the more speed the more they are affected. It turns out that these little cheapos work just fine if you’re walking but on a motorcycle going 65 miles an hour they totally fail. They tried using them that first day, found them worthless, and put them away never to pull them out again. Of course, I didn’t know that. This was well before the days of cell phones.

So I finally got my bike from the shop and I took off, doing some hard riding to reach the Grand Canyon in two days. I had no problem finding the campground but found that I had no way to find them in the campground. I thought they might have left a message for me at the gate, and they had, but I didn’t notice it. I asked the ranger at the gate and he knew nothing but just at that moment a ranger just getting off duty overheard and knew about them and told me where to find their camp site. No problem.

I found their camp site but they weren’t there. All this time I had the earpiece for the communicator in and the unit turned on and I was calling out for them but getting no answer. I was certain they would be listening and waiting for me but no answer. So I set up my tent and went to find them. I rode down to the main parking lot by the lodge, calling for them again and again. Still no answer.

It later turned out that they were there, but somehow I did not spot their bikes. Trying to guess where they had gone I set off on a lengthy wild goose chase that itself is a whole other story. Eventually I just went back to the camp site and by then they were there. They had been back a while before they noticed a new tent in their site so now they had been wondering where the heck I was.

After what I had just been through I was overjoyed to finally find them, and seeing a beer in John’s hand I cried “Give me a beer!” He told me apologetically that this was the last one and I took it from his hand and downed it. And then I asked them why the heck they didn’t respond to me on the communicators. They laughed and told me how worthless those proved to be and it never occurred to them to pull them out to help me find them when I arrived. Actually, they might have done the job in that situation if they had used them. But they didn’t.

That was the last time the OFMC ever seriously considered communicators. Some years later Judy and I got communicators and I specifically got some that would work between bikes in case one of the other guys decided to get a set, too, so we could communicate on rides. But no one else ever was sufficiently interested, so to this day the OFMC operates without communicators. Nowadays, though, we do finally all have cell phones so while not the same, they do the job when needed.

Biker Quote for Today

It’s not a gang. It’s a loose association of rugged outdoorsmen who like vibrations between their legs.

I’ve never tried to hide the fact that I’m a bad motorcycle owner. By that I mean that I do a lousy job of maintenance. Over the weekend I proved to myself once again that I probably rate a D in this category.

When I had been out on my Honda CB750 recently I had had the impression that perhaps my front tire was low on air. I made a note to check it sometime soon. Also, my mechanic, Joel, tells me the reason it pumps out blue smoke when I start it up is because the valves need to be adjusted and that they are allowing oil to seep into the cylinders. Then I start it up and this oil gets burned out. I’ve wondered more than once what any of my neighbors who were observing this might be thinking.

Lately, though, this seems to have gotten worse. It used to be that if the bike sat for a few weeks it would smoke when I fired it up, but if I ran it yesterday and started it again today there would be no smoke. That is no longer the case. I can start it every day for a week and it will smoke every time. I need to have Joel work on the valves.

More pressing, though, was the thought that I ought to check the oil. With all this oil burning away, how low might I be on oil?

So with somewhat warmer weather on Sunday I rolled the bike out to do some maintenance. First thing I noticed was that one of the four zip-ties that hold the bag on the back of the sissy bar was broken so I replaced that. Following the procedure in the shop manual, I set the bike up on the center stand and fired it up to warm the fluids and circulate the oil. Then I shut it down and gave it a few minutes for the fluids to settle.

Of course, when I started the bike it smoked like crazy. When I pulled the dipstick, cleaned it and put it back in, it came out not showing any oil at all on the end of the stick. Yep, low. So I added some oil and tested again. Nothing on the dip stick. I added more; still nothing. I didn’t have a lot of oil so I just poured the rest in. Still nothing showing on the dip stick. Yeah, I guess I was low.

Then I measured the tire pressure. Both tires are supposed to have 41 pounds of pressure. I have a good, digital-read-out pressure gauge and I used it twice. Both times it said 7 pounds of pressure. OK. That would sure explain why I had the impression it was low. Fortunately I have this multi-tool thing my parents gave me many years ago to keep in my car that includes an air compressor. I hooked it up, set it to put in 41 pounds, and let it run. It took almost 15 minutes to bring this baby up to proper level. Normally if you just need to add a few pounds it can take a minute or at most two. Not this time.

I figure all of this tells us two things. First, I’m a lousy owner. I rarely wash my bikes, I go too long between oil changes, and I don’t do routine maintenance as I should. Rap my knuckles with a hickory stick.

Second, the engineers that design these machines do a great job. Their machines continue to run year after year despite such utter neglect from idiots like me. Thanks guys, you do good work and I definitely appreciate you.

Biker Quote for Today

The next time your neighbors tell you that your bike is too loud, organize a bike rally at your house.