Passes & Canyons Blog

As all regular readers of this blog are aware, I sold my 1999 Kawasaki Concours back in March. It was the first time I had ever parted with a motorcycle that I owned. Riding for 35 years, I have owned three bikes and still own and ride two of them. Selling the Connie really brought mixed emotions.

It didn’t help, of course, that I ended up letting it go for a pittance. But after problems at the end of last year’s OFMC trip, and months spent waiting for the shop where I took it to do . . . nothing . . . it really was something of a relief to be done with it. But it was still sad and a bit wrenching.

During this time I looked around and found a used Yamaha FJ-09 at Vickery Motorsports that I was very interested in but until I could clear space in my garage I had nowhere to go with it. By the time the Kawi was gone the FJ-09 was, too.

So now whenever I get together with friends the question always comes up, are you going to get a new bike? My answer is as surprising to me as it is to them: No.

No, I really kind of like only having two bikes. I like having room in my workshop to use it as a workshop, rather than as a garage. I like having one less vehicle to maintain, pay taxes on, and pay insurance on. And it had gotten hard to find someone to work on such an old bike.

I also like not jockeying around this really heavy machine. Both my other bikes are much lighter than the Concours and I had been aware for a long time that the day was going to come as I get older when I was not going to feel up to handling that heavy thing. I’m not at that point, but already being free of that feels good. I also don’t miss having to deal with all that bodywork–the plastic panels covering the engine and forming the fairing. That stuff makes any work you do on the bike twice as much of a hassle.

Still, having finally sold a bike, I now feel a new freedom to think about doing so again. My main bike now is my 2006 Suzuki V-Strom 650 and I like it a lot but truth be told, I really would not mind something just a little bigger. Like that FJ-09, or the newer Yamaha Tracer. When I’m riding the V at highway speeds that little engine is very busy. An 850cc or 900cc engine would not have to be working quite so hard to hit those high speeds. Plus, the V-Strom is old enough that it’s now an issue to find someone to work on it.

I’m in no hurry, but what I foresee is to find an FJ or Tracer, buy it, and immediately turn around and sell the V-Strom. But right now I have not looked at bikes for sale at all, and I have no inclination as yet to begin. I’m just enjoying the two bikes I have.

Biker Quote for Today

Nothing compares to the simple pleasure of riding a motorcycle.

Oh, gosh, it wasn’t so long ago since I dipped into this Adventure Riders thread. Back in February. No matter, I’m doing it again today. I’m short of subject matter.

The question posed in this thread is “When was the last time you ran out of gas?” Here are a few responses. What’s your story?

• At age 40 (now 67), 2nd day of ownership of my very first bike, taking a ride, I ran out of gas about 1/2 mile from home. I was such a noob, I wasn’t sure what was wrong. Bike sputtered and died. Luckily most of it was downhill to my home. I call dealer and they asked if I flipped the petcock. What the **** is that was my reply? After he stopped laughing, he explained and all was well. Plus I learned something about motorcycles.
• I equate the need to carry gasoline with the ice cream napkin postulate. The number of napkins you need is directly related to the number of napkins you do not have. Gas works the same. This past spring I got a new to me road cruiser. It isn’t exactly great on mileage, but I could go 200-250 on a tank full. But I realized that my butt and joints usually need a break before then. So typical I start looking for gas around 150 miles for a good stretch and fill up. This way I am never stressing about fuel and I am usually feeling pretty good.
• It’s been a few years now, but I ran out of gas a couple times with the bike that had the largest gas capacity of any I’ve owned. My 2010 GSA supposedly had an 8.9 gallon tank, but it actually held just over 10.0 gallons. I filled it to 10 gallons several times, at different stations, as the distance to go was very accurate . . . until the fuel strip messed up. I planned to stop at a station on the way to work, but ran out about 100 yards short. It took 10.05 gallons.
• The last out-of-gas moment was a planned event. I had two 2l Fuel Friend containers with me, you got to know what your range is, so go and do the test on each new bike! Interestingly enough a biker stopped and ask if I was ok. Thank you dude for checking!
• About ten years ago, my daughter was suiting up to ride her KLX 250 to work, and remarked that she was getting great gas mileage all of a sudden. I told her to check the petcock and she laughed, assuring me that it wasn’t on reserve. I laughed too, to myself, and waited for her call. Sure enough, she ran out. I brought her the gas can, but she was a bit late for work that day. She hasn’t run out of gas since.
• I just bought a low-mile ‘05 tiger to replace my high-mile ‘06 tiger, and have been swapping farkles (including gps and aux lights) from the old one to the new one. I learned the hard way that the trip meter gets reset when the battery is disconnected – I was passing a string of cars in a passing lane going up a hill when the bike started losing power. It took me a minute or two to deduce how I managed to run out when the trip meter read only 190 and I can get 260 to a tank.
• I was coming North on route 9 after school one night and the bike sputtered…I was going about 60mph reached down to flip to reserve and it was already there. Hmm no traffic around it was well after midnight. I quickly pulled the choke and started swerving from side to side and leaning the bike to the left as far as I could. This got me to the crest of the hill I was on and then the bike died. I was still rolling at about 30 mph with the clutch pulled and headed slightly down hill. I knew the area well and that there was an all down hill run 1/4 mile to a exit ramp then down hill to a gas station. I also knew the gas station was closed at 10:00PM…but figured I could drain all the hoses at the pumps and be ok. Coasted into the station and drained all the hoses got the bike fired back up and made the 5 mile ride home.

OK, thanks for sharing guys. Of course I have plenty of my own running out of gas stories. The first time was when I was taking a woman I was interested in for her first motorcycle ride and I had forgotten the petcock was already set on Reserve. We walked a mile to a station and back with the gas. Things never took off between her and me.

Another time was with my wife when my Concours was new. We took a ride with the Concours Owners Group and when they all stopped to get gas in Florence I didn’t, figuring we’d make it home. We split off from the group and were heading up CO 83 toward Franktown and I was watching the gauge. Figured it would be good to stop in Franktown. We didn’t make it that far. Fortunately we rolled to a stop in front of a farm house and they sold me a gallon.

I was on my way to work one day on the Honda, heading west on Hampden, and ran out at Franklin Street. Fortunately I knew if I could push the bike about two blocks I could then coast down another three blocks to a station. Got off easy that time. That station is no longer there so I’ll try not to do that again.

There must be others but that’s all I can call to mind right now.

Biker Quote for Today

Riding is like writing stories, one road at a time, one adventure after another.

How quickly we went from “Is it so cold that if I ride I’ll freeze my butt off” to “I might like to go for a ride but I really don’t want to roast.” But Sunday was very nicely cool so what better thing could I do?

I figured I’d ride the Honda but I was very interested to see what happened once I started it up. Would it smoke like crazy as it used to? That issue had just miraculously gone away by itself but that means it could come back in just the same manner. And yes, the exhaust did smoke some at first. Not the huge clouds it used to produce but there was definitely some smoke.

And of course that makes me think about how much oil I have. When you’re getting a lot of blue smoke you are, by definition, burning oil and if you burn enough you end up with none. I had almost done this before I took it in to get the smoking addressed. I headed out one day, knowing I needed gas, and by the time I got to the gas station I just felt like it wasn’t running right. So I gassed up and just went back home, where, as a caution, I added some oil.

The next time I rode it was to take it to the shop, and it ran OK with the little bit of oil I had added, but when the shop started giving it the once over they found it had almost no oil at all. I’ve said it before: I’m a bad bike owner. I really don’t give my bikes the care they need. Shame on me.

So now I’m on this Sunday ride and my oil level is on my mind. I will check the oil level before I ride it again.

I hadn’t gone far and I saw something I had never seen before: one of those Tesla pick-up trucks. I’ve seen pictures but I had never seen one in real life and there it was. OK, a first.

I cruised south, to just north of E-470, and looped around the south end of Arapahoe County Airport and stopped to watch the airplanes lined up for take-off. What a mixed bag. All the way from little Piper Cubs up to enormous corporate jets.

On south and a turn onto the road that eventually becomes Main Street in Parker. And to the south of me the southern edge of the city is going up in the form of condos and homes. Jeez, I remember when the south edge of the city was 10 miles north of here.

East on Main Street, then a turn north on Jordan Road. At the intersection of Jordan Road and Broncos Parkway, on the northeast corner–and I mean right on the corner–sits a new condo complex with balconies overlooking this busy, noisy intersection. Just what I would want for a relaxing place to live. Do people really live in places like that voluntarily? If you flicked a cigarette butt from your balcony it might go right in somebody’s car window.

About this time it dawned on me that my test of using safety pins to snug up my fluorescent orange safety vest was apparently working. All this time it had not blown up around my head and it was staying where I wanted it. It occurred to me that I could use a couple more safety pins and just attach it long-term to my mesh summer jacket. Pin it down around the bottom to hold it down securely. I guess I’ll do that. I’d still recommend if you’re in the market that you pay a bit more and get a real motorcycle safety vest from a motorcycle supplier.

Then on home again. It sure is nice to have some comfortable days in July. The OFMC trip is coming up in a little over two weeks and it sure would be nice not to get cooked on that ride the way we did last summer.

Biker Quote for Today

Speed is my language, and the wind translates it into joy.

I’ve mentioned that some of the guys in the RMMRC, particularly Roy, have been putting peer pressure on me to raise my visibility level by use of lights or high-vis clothing. And that I finally gave in to that pressure by buying a safety vest.

Well, that hasn’t worked out quite as I planned. There is an Ace Hardware close to us that I shop at frequently so when I was in there a few weeks ago I picked up an orange vest they had for about $8. No big deal. What do you need? It’s fluorescent orange.

It turns out you need more than just something like this. This vest is presumably intended for outdoor construction workers who don’t want to add weight or warmth. It drapes loosely around you–one size fits all–is airy, and attaches in front by just one bit of Velcro. And if you wear it while riding a motorcycle it wants to climb right up you and would wrap itself around your head if your arms through the armholes didn’t keep it down at least a bit.

OK, let’s see if we can make some modifications. Simple first step: use a safety pin to close it in front a second time down low.

That’s what I did that day recently when I rode over Guanella Pass and you’ll see in that photo that I had it on. It helped, but not nearly enough. The thing still wanted to climb up me, like you’ve seen I’m sure with guys riding with no jacket and a loose T-shirt and the shirt is whipping out behind them and climbing up their back. Plus, the fabric rode right up under my chin so that the somewhat rough fabric was rubbing at my neck in a pretty irritating manner. OK, more is needed.

So now I added a couple more safety pins, this time on the sides. The two side are connected about mid-way down by a cord and I pulled them together and put on a safety pin just a bit above the cords. Maybe while I’m at it I ought to put on a couple more down low. I haven’t tried this out yet so I don’t know just how much good this is going to do.

The point is, why bother? I already have this thing so I’m trying to make it work but if you haven’t already bought something avoid my error. Just get something better right from the start. That will probably mean going to a motorcycle supply shop or ordering online. A quick search showed me a wide selection ranging in price from $19 up to $45. None of these is going to break the bank.

I’ll give this thing I have one more shot, maybe with a couple more pins, but if it’s just not going to do the job I’ll get something that will.

Biker Quote for Today

The road listens. It believes in you.

I was headed home from doing Guanella Pass and after I turned down Kerr Gulch Road I stopped to take off the sweatshirt I had put on before going up that pass. No big deal, right?

I pulled off at a driveway, put the kickstand down, and got off. And the bike just rolled forward, off the kickstand, and fell. What the hey? This was very much like a time years ago when I was crossing Idaho with Kevin and we stopped so I could clean my visor. I parked and got off and Kevin pulled in behind me and got off . . . and his bike rolled forward, bumped into mine, and they both went down.

OK, fine. I know how to pick a bike up. Crouch, backed into the seat, grab the handlebar with one hand and something on the body with the other and stand up, using your legs, not your back. But a funny thing happened.

I really don’t know what it was, but each time I tried to lift the bike, instead of coming up, it pivoted in a clockwise direction. Was it turning on the kickstand? On the case guard? On the highway peg? On the regular peg?

I don’t know, but after three attempts to lift it the bike had rotated about 90 degrees. What the hey?

Oh, and another thing. Apparently the seal on the gas tank is not particularly snug because gas was dribbling out of the tank at a pretty fast pace. If this thing lay there very long I’d lose half my gas at least.

I really didn’t know what I was going to do but just then I saw two guys coming from the house next door to the one whose driveway I was in. they climbed through and over a fence and hurried to me, calling out asking if I was OK. Yeah, I’m fine, I said, I didn’t go down. I parked the bike and it went down by itself.

So they helped me get it back up, with at least half a cup of gas spilling out of the brush guard on the handlebar which had been catching it as it ran out of the tank. OK, let’s get the heck out of here.

The bike fired right up and I put it in gear and was off, no problem. After thanking these guys profusely. And after assuring them for about the fifth time that I was not injured. Nice guys. Thank you so much!

Biker Quote for Today

Me and my bike, we’re like two best friends on a journey together.

Just to wrap this up, I’m not going on this RMMRC ride I’ve been talking about. Healing is just taking too long.

But as part of my exploration as to what I am currently capable of, on Tuesday I decided it was time to do a real ride and I went out US 285 and then over Guanella Pass. A beautiful day to ride and if I couldn’t handle this 150-mile jaunt I sure couldn’t handle the longer days planned for the trip.

And it was good. I got all the way out of town before I felt even slight discomfort. Big, big improvement.

So there I am tooling up 285 and a couple on a Concours 14 rolled up behind me. Very shortly afterward another guy joined us. I was chuckling to myself about how anyone who saw us was almost certainly thinking we were a group of riders on a trip together. You don’t think that about three cars in a row but you do when it’s a bunch of motorcycles.

Then in a few more miles we were joined by two more guys on bikes. Now we’re a group of five bikes and six people, for all the world like we’re traveling together. We passed a bunch of bikes going the other way, everybody’s waving, and I’m just shaking my head at how I just know that even those bikers figured we were together.

The solo guy who had been the third member of the group turned off at Pine Junction so now there were only four bikes, and we got to Grant and I turned up the Guanella Pass road and the couple on the Concours went straight. They have a sign there at Grant that I liked. It read, “This is a mountain pass, not a raceway. Slow down and enjoy the scenery.” Words of wisdom.

The other two guys had dropped out of sight behind we got to Grant but then I stopped partway up the pass to put on a sweatshirt–it was getting chilly!–and they went by. Hey fellas, fun riding with you for awhile.

Just FYI there were a lot of tar snakes on the Grant side of this pass. I figured since it was cool they would be no issue but after my rear end slid out a couple times I concluded they were not to be ignored. On the Georgetown side, which is a different county, there were no tar snakes but there was a lot of gravel in the very high switchbacks and some in some of the lower ones. So take care riding this pass at this point.

And yeah, it was darn chilly up on top of the pass but dang if my butt didn’t still just feel fine. I like this. I’ll need to stop and take the sweatshirt off when I get lower but for now it’s very welcome.

So there was no obvious spot to stop once I got down lower so I kept riding but by the time I was getting off I-70 at the El Rancho exit I was cooking. The plan was to jump on the Evergreen Parkway just a couple miles and then turn off onto Kerr Gulch Road and take that very non-busy route down to Kittredge.

Up at the top Kerr Gulch is very steep but I finally came upon a driveway and that looked like a good spot to stop. I stopped, put the kick-stand down, and got off . . . and the bike just rolled forward and fell over. Dang! I didn’t need this. What happened next is a bit of a story and I’ll tell that next time. Suffice it to say I got going again.

So, down to Kittredge, to Morrison, to US 285, and home. A good long ride and by the time I got home I knew I’d be texting Alberto to say no way am I going on this trip. By this point I was hurting and this time a hot soak in the tub was not enough to make it all go away.

Not that it mattered as it turned out. I checked my email later and he had sent me a note the day before saying he had had to cancel out. And a couple other guys dropped out, too, and it was now just down to Alan, the organizer, and Bruce. I texted Bruce to ask if they were going to go nevertheless and he said yes. Good for them. Sorry I won’t be with you.

Biker Quote for Today

Does it get any better than motorcycling with your best friends?

With four days left before we are to leave on this RMMRC ride my butt is better but not great so I took another ride to see just how bad–or good–it was. Verdict: I still don’t know.

I had taken a ride about a week earlier and that time I had barely gone a block or two and was already uncomfortable. I made it for about 35 minutes that day. This time it actually felt just fine at first, but after about a mile I felt the discomfort creeping in. But that’s a big improvement.

It was a blazing hot day so I wanted to head up into the hills. I meandered my way through the southwest suburbs heading toward Deer Creek Canyon. But then, heading south on Kipling, the bike died. Please, no!

I was on the Honda and I stopped at a traffic light but when I started to move again it just died. I pressed the starter button and it fired up but as soon as I let out the clutch it died again. I was in the middle of the intersection at this point so I paddle-walked the rest of the way across, coming to a stop next to the median.

As I said, it was blazing hot and I had visions of being stuck there in the heat with no shade anywhere, waiting for a tow truck. But I’m not stupid, or new at this, and it occurred to me that this was kind of like running out of gas. Now, the trip meter only read 68 miles and this bike generally goes to Reserve at about 125 miles. But it had been in the shop and I had not filled the tank since I’d had it back so who knows how totally off that 68 might be. I flipped to Reserve, pressed the starter, and it fired up. Yahoo! Next stop the nearest gas station.

I got to the canyon and by now the discomfort was starting to worry me. I’d never go 250 miles in a day like this. But then suddenly it was like second wind, where the burning just kind of went away. I felt fine again. Nice.

Nevertheless, as I continued further up the canyon a bit came creeping back again. It was my intention to crest out of the canyon and down to Turkey Creek Road, where I would go right. I decided to stop at Tiny Town both to get a photo and to see how much good it did to just get off the bike for a few minutes.

I got my picture and even that few minutes off the bike did a lot of good. Then I got onto US 285 coming back down out of the hills and continuing east to home. Along the way it was getting pretty uncomfortable again so I decided to shift my position on the seat. It isn’t sitting per se that is uncomfortable, it is sitting for very long in the same position. And yes, shifting around made a big difference.

Then as I got back into town I made a point to stand up every time I got stopped at a red light. That helped, too. Altogether, this time I was out for an hour and a half and I did not feel as bad as I had after 35 minutes a few days before. I decided I now put my odds of going on this ride at 70-30, versus the 50-50 I had set it at previously. But just four more days.

When I got home I found that Alberto, my presumed roommate on this ride, had texted me asking for an update. I guess Alberto is a glass half empty kind of guy because he asked if I was still a no-go. Looking at 50-50 I had never considered myself a no-go. Surely I would get better each day–the question was how much better I would get, how fast. I was just waiting to see if I would feel sufficiently better. But now I told him 70-30.

He asked for a definite decision by Tuesday evening. Money is apparently an issue and he said if I’m not coming he isn’t going to pay those hotel bills by himself and will cancel and not go either. And of course he needs to cancel far enough in advance not to be charged. So I guess I’ll be making a definite decision on Tuesday, after riding again on Monday and then Tuesday.

My best guess at this point would be a go. I just may not ride with the rest of the group all the time, stopping whenever I feel the need to regardless of what they do. Plus, I’ll be on the V-Strom and that bike is designed to be ridden standing up, so I may stand up a lot.

Biker Quote for Today

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

Was it truly inevitable? The Colorado legislature this session passed a bill making it legal for motorcycles to filter to the front when traffic is at a standstill. Although passed and signed by the governor, lane filtering does not become legal in Colorado until August 7. But they’re doing it already.

You’ve probably seen it. And the thing is, it’s not just filtering. There are riders out there right now who are doing full-blown lane splitting even though that is not what has been legalized.

On Monday Judy and I were headed out of town to go spend a few days in the mountains. We were headed up US 285 near Conifer, a four-lane, divided highway stretch, and seemingly out of nowhere a guy on a sportbike blazed past us and proceeded to weave his way, lane-splitting, through the whole group of cars ahead of us. And he was immediately followed by two other guys doing the same.

Now, a couple things about these guys. First off, they were seriously geared up. These were not weekend bikers just running over to the bar. These were serious riders on serious sportbikes and just from the way they were riding I would not be surprised to find that they were Europeans. They didn’t look like guys just trying out this new thing, they looked like they knew exactly what they were doing.

And they were going fast. Within about a mile they were far out of sight up ahead of us. Did they even know about the change in Colorado law, or were they just riding that way because why not? We’ll never know.

But these were not the first lane-splitters I’ve seen, and I know you’ve probably seen it, too. At last month’s RMMRC meeting Roy said he had seen a guy blasting his way through traffic on Hampden. I saw someone lane splitting somewhere recently, though I don’t remember where. Lane filtering is not even legal yet and people are lane splitting. Wow.

Now, I have no problem with lane splitting. The fact is, most riders in Colorado are not even likely to filter because let’s face it, if you’re on a big Harley or some big BMW or Indian you aren’t going to have room to slip between cars, stopped or not. Heck, I slipped past a car stopped in a right turn lane one time on my Concours, which was a big bike, and my mirror clipped his. Oops. Not a good thing.

It’s only the sportbike crowd that is going to filter. Those bikes are narrow and can do it safely. And if they want to split as well, well, good luck if some cop sees you doing it. It might not be such a good idea. The point is, though, that splitting is not what was made legal, filtering is.

All I’m hoping is that these guys don’t flout the law so much that when it comes time in three years to review this lane-filtering law that the legislature reverses course. That would be very unfortunate. So maybe you guys ought to tone it down just a bit. Maybe?

Biker Quote for Today

I don’t need you, my bike is enough to drive me crazy.