Passes & Canyons Blog

Riding a motorcycle is not like driving a car. Have you noticed that?

For instance, no one ever mentions to you how they headed out in their car and discovered it was a lot warmer or cooler than they expected and therefore they were way too hot or way too cool. They just took care of it with the AC or the heater and didn’t give it another thought.

Not so those of us on two wheels. And there is no more likely time to get that surprise than at the changing of the seasons, like right now.

Until this week, the last several times I’ve been out on my bikes I have consistently underestimated how chilly it was going to be. I’m not stupid, though, and I have a few years of experience under my belt, so I was carrying along the warmer gear to compensate.

And riding in cool weather is pretty energizing. The term “cool, brisk fall days” speaks to a reality. It’s very cool (yes, double meaning) actually.

Then there was last Tuesday. The forecast was for one more warm day followed by serious, serious cold. As in a low of 14 degrees. That’s cold! I figured I’d better take advantage so off I went on the Concours. The thermometer said 75 so, after being surprised by the cool recently, I overdressed for the warmth. You can always remove layers.

Boy did I overdress. To the point where I was roasting. So I stopped and shed a layer, right? No, that would have been too easy, too intelligent.

I wanted a convenient place to stop. And it’s amazing how when you want something specific you never seem to find it. At any time I could have turned off onto a side street, stopped and de-layered, and turned around and gotten back on the main road. But that would not have been convenient.

I finally remembered that my jacket has vents so I opened the ones in front, and that helped some. I groped in back but could not locate the rear vents or that would have helped even more.

So finally I ended up back home and oh golly, how glad I was to rip some layers off.

As I said, you never hear stories like this from people driving cars, do you. But I’ll bet that nearly every one of you could tell some similar story about riding your motorcycle. Riding a motorcycle is not like driving a car.

Biker Quote for Today

Riding motorcycles helps clear the cobwebs from my mind; if I ride long enough I get to kill some of the spiders.

I have several Google alerts set to bring me articles mentioning motorcycles, bikers, and such, and today I got one about an event I’ve never heard of. Just wondering if you have.

From WYMT, a TV station in eastern Kentucky, there was a story, “National Motorcycle Ride Day.” I’ve never heard of National Motorcycle Ride Day.

Apparently this day is designated on the second Saturday of October each year. Well, we missed it this year, that’s for sure. It’s described as encouraging “motorcyclists in the USA and the world to get out and on their motorcycles for a united day of riding.”

OK, I’m all for that. But where did this come from and who made this designation? Here’s the answer:

National Motorcycle Ride Day was submitted in August 2015 by Chad Geer, and the Registrar at National Day Calendar declared National Motorcycle Ride Day to be celebrated annually on the second Saturday in October.

OK, so it seems that anybody who wants to declare a day to celebrate/commemorate something, all they have to do is fill out the form at this “National Day Calendar” and presto, you got it!

Of course, you then have to somehow publicize it and get the word out or you’re going to be having your very own, one-person celebration.

Is there more to this? Here:

National Motorcycle Ride Day was founded in 2015 by Chad Geer of Dunlop Tire N.A. The month of October signifies the beginning of fall and also the end of the riding season for a lot of bikers. It is also the month the pneumatic tire was developed by John B. Dunlop. Without this development in tire technology motorcycles would not be able to function.

OK, well, cool. Chad, you have my best wishes on making this into something. Hey, at least WYMT did a story, and that got distributed nationally. It’s a start.

Biker Quote for Today

Reasons not to date a motorcyclist: The garage is decorated nicer than the house.

Every year about this time I start thinking about the riding I hope to get in before the end of the year. It’s totally arbitrary but one thing I do is look at the odometers on each of the bikes and try to get each one to turn over one more thousand mile mark before the year is out. I usually fail.

Usually I seem to be more than 500 miles off the next thousand on all three bikes. Back when I only had one bike that was a possibility, to ride that much in the time remaining. Now with three bikes it’s much less possible, unless I just go crazy and ride and ride and ride every warm day we have.

This year is a little different. I’m only 24 miles from the next 1,000 on the Honda. For once I’m going to roll that one over, no doubt. And while this will depend on the weather, I may very well roll the Kawi over, too. That bike is only 257 miles away from its next 1,000. Heck, I’ve got more than two months to do that.

But then there’s the V-Strom. That’s a different story. I’m more than 600 miles shy of the next 1,000 on that bike and while that’s certainly possible, I know myself and I just don’t expect it to happen. Besides, that means all three together would be about 900 miles. Heck, I’m absolutely certain I won’t drive my car 900 miles in the time between now and December 31, and it goes places even when there’s snow on the ground.

Sure I could go out on a nice day and ride to Lamar and back but what would be the point of that? And the fact is, I’m one of the most environmentally conscious people I know and I have questioned myself more than once on the idea that for recreation I go out and burn dead dinosaurs. How much does that cancel out all the recycling and composting and public transit riding I do?

No, I’ll get out on each of these bikes several more times this year but only for a fun time, not to grind out miles just to meet some arbitrary objective. But who knows. If the weather permits the RMMRC to continue these every other weekly Wednesday rides those miles will add up. I’ll be choosing which bike to ride based on how close each is to that next 1,000.

Biker Quote for Today

Got a big bucket list, and before I kick it, gonna buy me a Harley and Route Sixty-Six it. — Billy Currington

I told about riding home from Deckers on the V-Strom with the you-need-gas-now! icon flashing ominously, all the while nervously confident that I had enough to get home OK.

The next time I rode that bike I was going with the RMMRC on one of the regular Wednesday morning rides. I got a late start so I figured I would get over there, let them know I was coming along, and hurry off to fill the tank. But this was Wednesday last week and it was a cold, rainy morning. I also just threw my weather gear in the bags, intending to put that on once I had connected with the group.

I got to the gathering place just a couple minutes late, which should not have been an issue because they never get off exactly at the designated hour. But there were zero bikes in the parking lot. Now, some guys come just for the breakfast and camaraderie with no intention of going along on the ride. I figured there might be some folks inside but with no bikes it was clear none of them intended to ride, so that was irrelevant for me. I wanted to ride.

It was also possible I had missed them, that they had already left to ride. But I know where these guys park and there were cars in those parking spaces and if they left just two minutes before I got there those spaces would not yet have been filled.

Whatever the situation, there was not going to be an RMMRC ride for me this morning. So I headed toward home but thought about getting gas. Ultimately I decided I was cold and gas could wait for later. So now the tank was even lower than before.

Yesterday was a much warmer day and I figured I really needed to get gas in that bike. Plus, I wanted to go for a ride.

I wheeled the V-Strom out on the driveway, climbed on, turned the key, and pushed the start button. It cranked and cranked and cranked but would not start. It was facing downhill so I thought maybe if I leveled it out that would allow gas to reach the fuel intake. That didn’t work. Then I tried facing it uphill. That didn’t work either.

Obviously I was really, really low on gas. I know that while a low tank can cause problems starting, nevertheless if the bike is running it can keep running. The problem is getting the fuel flowing in the first place. We have several gas can around home and two were completely empty but the third had just a little in it, maybe two tablespoons. I dribbled that in and hoped it would do the trick.

It did not. So I did the only thing I could do. I got in my car and drove to a station and filled the gas can. Then I came back and poured just about half a pint in and now it started. Then I went and got gas.

Now I know this bike just a little better than I did before.

Biker Quote for Today

If driving a convertible is topless why can’t I ride my Harley in the nude? — Tom T. Hall

Motorcycle Touring With Ball O’ String

One of the fun aspects of an organized tour is the opportunity to meet other people who share your interests. If you, or you and your spouse, are the only ones on the tour, the only people you’ll meet are the tour guides.

So it was that Willie Fuhrman invited Judy and me to come along on a tour they were running through Willie’s company, Ball O’ String Custom Adventure Tours. She had a couple whose sons had given them a trip that included two days riding but no one else had signed up. Would we like to come along to make for a more lively group, paying our own expenses? Sure, you bet. Sounds like fun.

We headed out of Denver mid-afternoon on Friday and cruised up to Eagle, where Willie and her husband, Jungle, live. The tour was centered on the Eagle-Vail area and we’d be coming back to their house each night. The paying customers, Tom and Marsha Tuttle, would be staying each night in the hotel in Vail that was part of the gift from their sons. We reached Eagle, unloaded the bike, and headed back to Vail with Willie and Jungle to meet and have dinner with the Tuttles. Willie’s friend Terry would also be joining us, both for dinner and for riding.

Tom and Marsha, from Connecticut, ride a Harley back home and had rented one from a dealer in Denver. They weren’t thrilled with the rental but that’s the thing with any rental motorcycle, it’s not your bike. Sometimes that’s nice but sometimes you just make do.

We ate, got acquainted, and made plans. Then Saturday morning we met up and took off up U.S. 24 over Tennessee Pass to Leadville. Along the way we stopped at Camp Hale, where the 10th Mountain Division trained during World War II to fight on skis in the Alps. All that remains today of Camp Hale are some building foundations and some signs telling its story. It’s an interesting story.

Speaking of interesting stories, we learned the origin of the name “Ball O’ String” over the weekend and the stop at Camp Hale fits right in. Years ago, when their daughter Becca was young, Willie and Jungle used to travel with the two of them on the bike and Becca and the dog in a sidecar. One year they passed a sign announcing the world’s largest ball of string, so of course they stopped to see it. Becca was not impressed.

The following year, as they planned another trip, Becca was asked if she wanted to come or not.

“Is this going to be a real vacation or is it just another ball of string trip?” she asked.

When the business needed a name, Ball O’ String was just a natural.

From Leadville we cruised on down to Twin Lakes and then over Independence Pass to Aspen, where we stopped for lunch. Then it was on to Glenwood Springs and a return to Eagle and Vail via I-70 through Glenwood Canyon. Total distance for the day was–for us Coloradans at least–an easy 190 miles or so.

After everyone had a chance to change and freshen up, we met again in Vail and rode the gondola up to the summit to watch the sunset, and then rode back down to have dinner. At dinner however, we learned from Tom and Marsha that it had been a tiring day for them, not the least because Tom was hurting pretty badly due to the lack of the backrest he is accustomed to having. He was looking forward to some hot tub time but unfortunately the hot tub at their hotel closed before he had a chance to get in. We had an excellent dinner, though, and made plans for Sunday.

Cutting it short
Come Sunday morning, Tom and Willie were in communication and our start was postponed. The plan was to head north out of Wolcott on CO 131 to Toponas, take CO 134 over Gore Pass to pick up U.S. 40 west of Kremmling, and then to take 40 over Rabbit Ears Pass to Steamboat Springs for lunch. From there we would continue west almost to Hayden and then take a very nice, minor road, called the 20-Mile Road, back down to 131 at Oak Creek and then back south to where we started.

Could we do something shorter, Tom asked? He wanted to be sure to be back by 3 p.m. so they could look around Vail more and so he could be sure of getting to the hot tub. OK, Willie countered, we could just take 131 straight to Steamboat, have lunch, and come right back. That still seemed too long, so at Jungle’s suggestion, we would meet at Wolcott and ride just to Toponas and there stop for gas. Then it would be up to Tom and Marsha to decide how much further they’d like to go.

At Toponas, Tom and Marsha said they were just going to go back to Vail, so the rest of us went on without them along the route as planned. We certainly had a nice ride. At dinner that night, in another of the really good restaurants that Vail seems to have in quantity, we had a lot of laughs. As well as some heat, as both Tom and Jungle demonstrated that they have strong opinions and are not hesitant to express those opinions, even though, in this case, they were conflicting opinions.

“Hey, how ’bout them Broncos?” was my effort at deflecting the conversation elsewhere.

It all ended on a positive note and we said our good-byes. Monday morning was cold and rainy and Judy and I put on all our rain gear plus a few things Willie and Jungle offered. We were dry and reasonably warm but I couldn’t help but wonder about Tom and Marsha, who were also returning to Denver but who didn’t have all the warm gear we had. I heard from Willie soon after we got home, however, that they had arrived safely, though though it was a very cold ride. We who live in Colorado understand this but people who come from elsewhere don’t: Carry warm gear. It can snow any day of the year on the higher passes. The fact that it’s August means nothing.

That ended our little outing and our first experience on a Ball O’ String tour. Then the phone rang last night and as Judy handed it to me I heard Jungle and Willie singing “Happy Birthday” to me.

“We want to see you guys again soon,” Willie said.

I think we can make that happen.

Biker Quote for Today

We got a gorilla and we shaved him and bought him a motorcycle — Flaming Lips

I’m not certain, but this could be the last of these Examiner Resurrections. I’m about at the end of these pieces that I feel are good enough and timeless enough to be republished since the demise of Examiner.com, where I originally published them.

Boredom Totally Lacking In Ride Across The Prairie

Kansas, Nebraska, and South Dakota are known as long, boring states that you just have to get across by a lot of travelers heading east or west, but it doesn’t have to be that way. If the journey is the destination, as motorcyclists so often like to say, these middle states are an enjoyable part of the ride.

I left Denver Monday morning in a rainstorm. In fact, by the time I got four blocks from my house I was drenched. Though the sky was threatening I figured I didn’t need to suit up yet as my first stop was to be for gas, and I’d see how the sky looked then. Four blocks later I was pulling under a shelter and putting on rain pants and jacket, but didn’t see the need for the glove and boot coverings that I have. But the rain just came down harder so by the time I reached the station my gloves were soaked through, worse than they’ve ever been soaked before.

At the station I carefully put everything on and, typical of Colorado, by the time I was ready to roll the storm was abating. By the time I made it out by the airport it was already time to start peeling things off. It was getting hot! And though the sky to the west looked like a boxer’s face after a title bout, to the east there was blue sky and sunshine.

I blasted northeast on I-76 to Sterling and then cut north on CO 113, to Sidney, NE, where I picked up U.S. 385. At Alliance I headed east on NE 2, which my map indicated was “scenic.” These terms are relative such that a scenic road in Nebraska would probably not be rated such in Colorado, but you take what you can get. The point was that in my first two days all I did was cross the prairie and it was a very interesting ride. Once I got past Alliance it was all new and all of it was different and beautiful in its own way. I never once wished I could just get beyond this horrid stretch of nothing.

From Alliance I could take the road north out of town, past Carhenge, and that was the shorter, most direct route, but it was also straight. If I headed east on NE 2 there was a squiggle on the map with lakes on both sides that looked to hold promise. That was NE 250 and it delivered on that promise. Who knew western Nebraska had so many curves?

This brought me out to U.S. 20 at Rushville, an east-west road that quickly took me to Gordon, where I spent my first night with some Motorcycle Travel Network (MTN) people. Ray and Shirley are also Christian Motorcyclist Association (CMA) members and Ray made a point of telling me that the $15 gratuity I gave him per the MTN protocols would go to the CMA’s fund raised each year to promote its missionary work overseas.

In the morning I headed east on 20 as far as Valentine and then got onto NE 12 to stay as close to the Nebraska-South Dakota border as possible. Approaching Valentine I was doubtful of signs I saw that described Valentine as a “vacation paradise” but the buttes above the Niobrara River formed beautiful topological features and I could see that if hunting and fishing and horseback riding were what you like to do on vacation, this could indeed be a paradise.

Quickly crossing the river on NE 12 and ascending the butte I saw a turn-out to an overlook, so even though it was about 3/4 mile of loose gravel, and my Kawasaki Concours hates gravel, I took it and the view was fantastic. There was also a lone buffalo just grazing right there, close enough to make me nervous. But I didn’t provoke him and he just watched me nonchalantly and we got along fine.

I finally crossed into South Dakota at the town of Niobrara and then zig-zagged my way north and east to Sioux Falls where I had arranged to stay with a friend from high school who I had not seen in more than 40 years. We had a lot of catching up to do and I think we both found that the other really hadn’t changed all the much in all those years. Let’s not wait to get together again so long next time.

Today it’s on to the Minneapolis area, with a brief side-trip down into the corner of Iowa. Vintage Motorcycle Days, I’m on my way, but it’s an indirect route.

Biker Quote for Today

The fact that I’m a biker doesn’t make me a different kinda Christian, but the fact that I’m a Christian makes me a different kinda biker. — Dano Janowski

As many times as I have ridden the Squaw Pass road I never noticed this one paved road heading off to the south. But now I’ve got to tell you about it.

I was riding with Bob and Robert, the Go Fast Buddies, on an RMMRC Wednesday impromptu ride. Bob proposed Witter Gulch, Robert said that sounded good, and I said I didn’t know Witter Gulch. Apparently that road connects to the Squaw Pass road but Dave wasn’t sure he could spot the turn-off. Then let’s go up it, Robert suggested. Just take the turn by the lake in Evergreen. OK, that will work.

So we got to Evergreen and the turn and Bob kept straight. Robert had been trying to signal Dave that this was the turn but now he just raised his arm, palm up, signaling “Well, OK.”

I guess Dave figured he could find the turn and wanted to go down, not up. We turned onto the Squaw Pass road and at a point where the road curves to the right there was a road to the left and he took it. We followed. This was indeed Witter Gulch Road.

And what a road! Holy crap! You can see in that Google Maps image above how it is one switchback after another. It make sense. The Squaw Pass road at that point runs along a ridge and anything in either direction could only be down. A lot.

Down we went. This is a good road, with excellent pavement. But you’re never going to get up much speed. I hope and presume that Bob was scanning the road ahead because at each switchback he late apexed to the point of going way over into the oncoming lane, while Robert and I just slowed down enough to stay in our lane.

Then there was the point where my attention flagged for an instant and I realized I was scary close to the edge of the road at a point where beyond the asphalt there was only air. OK, put all other thoughts aside until you get down where it’s more level. Dummy.

We got down to Upper Bear Creek Road and now the road followed the creek. There were obviously expensive houses along Witter Gulch Road all the way but now we were into one of those areas where you look around and wonder where in the world all these people got all this money. Ten of me together couldn’t buy one of these houses.

We pulled off at the Evergreen Country Club and agreed it was time to head home. Then on down along Bear Creek to Morrison and off in our separate directions. Thanks for the tip, Bob. I’ll be going back to that road. And I may need to point it out on the website.

Biker Quote for Today

Vinyl Tension-o-meter. Using a vernier caliper you measure the amount of seat vinyl you have sucked into a ridge by rapid contraction of your butt cheeks as the result of a near accident. Also referred to as “pucker factor.”

I went out to ride with the Wednesday morning group from the RMMRC and it turned out to be just three of us this time. As we pulled out of the parking lot, me in the middle, it occurred to me I was with Robert and Dave, who I have come to think of as the “Go Fast Buddies.”

I’ve ridden with these guys before, but in larger groups. They’re always out in front, getting further and further ahead. The last time we were leaving Deckers and I inadvertently got between the two of them and it wasn’t long before Robert blasted past me and then the two of them took off.

So here I was again, in between them. That got sorted out pretty quickly, however, in the heavy traffic on I-25. A truck pulled in between me and Dave, who was leading, and before I could see an opening to pass the truck Robert raced past us both using the exit lane. He caught up with Dave quickly enough but we were pretty far west on C-470 before I caught up with them.

All this time I was thinking about what was ahead on this ride. I just told myself I was going to ride my own ride, period.

We got off C-470 at Wadsworth, then turned west on the road up Deer Creek Canyon. I knew what was coming. It was going to get curvy and they were going to go fast. But I was also thinking about the fact that I’m not a half bad rider myself. And I have spent years deliberately practicing leaning off the bike so as to take a curve at higher speed with the bike not leaned over excessively. I decided that my own ride that I was going to ride was going to include seeing how close I could keep with them while still feeling secure and in control, that is to say, not scaring myself.

And I did pretty darn good. From Deer Creek Canyon to Turkey Creek Canyon the turns got tighter and while there were occasions when due to the curves I lost sight of them ahead of me, all it took was a little more straight and there they were, not that far ahead.

We did a bunch more twisty roads and I held my own. But I could never keep right up with them. And that got me thinking, too.

I can take curves kind of fast because I lean off the bike to provide counter weight to keep the bike upright, in the way that racers do when they lean off so far they drag their knee pucks on the ground. I never saw the Go Fast Buddies do any leaning of this sort. They were both on recent model Gold Wings, which appear to have very low centers of gravity. All my bikes have high centers of gravity, although on this day I was on my CB750, which is the lowest of the three.

Still, this is something I have observed many times with the OFMC, how these guys with their lower bikes can always go faster than me around curves. Without leaning off the bike.

Maybe some day I’ll have a bike with a low center of gravity. Then watch out. I just might become a member of the go-fast community.

Biker Quote for Today

Reasons not to date a motorcyclist: Our idea of dressing up is putting on a clean black t-shirt.