Passes & Canyons Blog

At another needed stop in Glenwood Canyon on my way home.

Riding with friends has a lot going for it, not the least being that if you have a problem you have someone to help you out. And I’ve done plenty of riding with friends. But I’ve got to tell you, I really love riding alone. I just love the ability to ride at your own pace, stop when you want, where you want, and change your plans on a whim. (I wonder where this road goes . . . )

This recent RMMRC California trip was a case in point. I started out with five other guys but then got sick. I peeled off from the group on day three, spent that day being sick in my motel room, and then started home alone the next day.

The two days with the group were fine but there were all sorts of compromises to be made. For instance, I’m more of a sedate rider. I like to take it easy. If I’m on the interstate–which we were that first day–I don’t need to go 80. But we did, and I did. No big deal; just not my preference.

So after my sick day I was alone. The first stretch of road I would cover was Utah 72, just 35 miles to I-70. What a sweet road! It started out meandering up through a valley filled with farms and ranches. Everything was green with spring and it was just so pleasant. I was in no hurry, and there was no other traffic so I could go at whatever speed suited me.

The road climbed out of the valley and followed the ridge line northeast into another higher valley, this time only open range and no farms. Then up a good bit more. This area is known as the San Rafael Swell region and it’s beautiful. Why would I want to hurry through this? I didn’t.

Now I was really climbing and it was getting cold. I found myself at the top of Hogan Pass, at just a hair under 9,000 feet, and the view was spectacular. But how many times have I been with a group and rather than stop and enjoy the view we have just blasted on through? Many, many times I can assure you. Not when I’m riding alone though.

After the pass it was all downhill, through more hills and ridges. And then the interstate. Cruising along it wasn’t particularly pleasant. The wind was whipping and I was starting to not feel so great. I knew about a rest area up ahead, however, that I figured would be a nice stop. Once again, with a group you don’t want to make everyone conform to your wishes but on my own I could do anything I wanted–or needed–to do. I stopped. I found a nice smooth boulder and lay down and closed my eyes. After 20 minutes of soaking up the warmth of the sun I was ready to go on.

The rest of my trip home was like this. I left when I was ready. I stopped when I needed to, or wanted to. I ate when and where I wanted.

Motorcyclists always talk about the freedom of being on a bike. But I don’t see it. Not unless you’re riding alone. Back in my old Examiner.com days I did a couple pieces about the Ride For The Wall, an event of mostly military vets remembering MIAs and POWs. I didn’t see any freedom going on there. That was all strictly regimented the way only vets can be. Heck, I got screamed at for trying to enter a gas station differently than their whole group was being channeled and I was not a member of their group.

I’ve also heard a lot about the 1%er clubs and how they have and enforce strict rules about group riding. And I’m not referring to riding in staggered formation. I strongly agree with that concept. That’s just common sense.

So yeah, I like riding with a group at times. But what I really love the most is when I just head out on my own. That’s freedom.

Biker Quote for Today

If you drive a car you’re responsible for your car. If you ride a motorcycle you are responsible for every car around you.

At a rest stop along I-70 in Utah.

I spent a day sick in bed in Loa, Utah, while the other RMMRC guys continued on their California trip. By the next day I felt able to ride so I planned to turn back eastward, to Grand Junction, where my brother lives. I hoped I wouldn’t start out and then 50 miles along start feeling just as sick as I did just before we were set to roll the day before. But if I did I figured I’d just struggle my way to Green River and get a motel there.

From Loa I needed to take Utah 72 to I-70 and then go east on I-70. I had no idea what to expect on 72 but it was a lovely, somewhat cool, morning and a nice day to ride. Plus, this little two-lane was so unbusy that I think I saw three cars the whole time I was on it.

The road wandered through several small farming/ranching towns, through some very nice valleys, and then started climbing, but not a lot. At least it didn’t seem like we were climbing a lot. Already cool, it got cooler and with some alarm I wondered if my electric vest was starting to die. I’ve had it for a long time; nothing lasts forever. Then I came to a sign announcing the summit of Hogan Pass, at just a few feet under 9,000. Wow, no wonder I was cold.

They have several vista points on top of Hogan Pass and the vista is worth the stops. This is just beautiful country. And from here it was downhill all the way.

I ran on a ways and then very abruptly found myself at I-70, running parallel to the highway until we reached an interchange. Then it was I-70 to Green River. The wind was blowing pretty hard, promising a less than pleasant ride.

I stopped at a rest area before Green River because I was feeling a little rocky but 20 minutes of lying in the sun on a nice smooth rock helped me feel better. In Green River I ordered a bowl of soup in a restaurant but couldn’t get it down. I did drink a glass of milk, and then I lay on their lawn another while till I was again feeling good enough to ride. After that I made it all the way to my brother’s.

In fact, I was feeling pretty good when I got to Fruita, where I needed to leave the slab to take the more direct back road to my brother’s house. I considered going on as far as Eagle to where my friends Willie and Jungle live but decided while I might feel good now, another two hours on the road might not leave me feeling good at all. Let’s just take the wins when you’ve got them.

And yeah, even hanging there at Rick’s, by the time two hours had passed I was not feeling good at all. Wise choice.

Feeling reasonably good the next day I came on home. The ride across the mountains on I-70 was uneventful with really nothing to report. And there I was at home 5 days after leaving on what was to have been a 15-day trip. But man was I glad to be home and it was another 4 days before I felt halfway decent again.

Biker Quote for Today

It’s a beautiful world. Get out there and discover it.