Archive for the ‘OFMC’ Category

When I Led My Buddies To Not Wear Helmets

Thursday, October 22nd, 2026
earplugs


My Big Ear earplugs are one pair of many that I have . . . and never use.

Way back in our early days riding motorcycles John and Bill and I often rode without helmets. That changed as years went by but initially we mostly took them with us in case we found ourselves in states with helmet laws.

I was the one who rode without a helmet the most, and I was also the one who continued to do so the longest. It was only a good bit later when, now married, I made the decision that I would do my best not to curse my wife with a husband who was mentally gone due to a bad head injury in a crash. I have never ridden without my helmet since, and that’s a good thing considering my crash on the Honda last year. If I hadn’t had my helmet on that day I’d probably be dead.

But there was a time, back in the early days of the OFMC when I inadvertently led John and Bill to wear their helmets less.

I had ridden my bike out to Lincoln, Nebraska, for my high school reunion. Around this time I had been reading about ear plugs and how they help protect your hearing. On my way home I decided to give them a try. I picked up some inexpensive ones from a drug store and put them in.

Riding with ear plugs was a revelation. Things were so much quieter. It was really pleasant.

The potential downside of using them was that I frequently found myself racing along on US 36 through northern Kansas at more than a little above the speed limit. Without the familiar sound of the engine to tell me roughly how fast I was going it was all too easy to go really fast. Fortunately for me I did not run into a radar trap along the way.

But I was very impressed. And of course I had to tell Bill and John about this.

Their interest was piqued and drug store ear plugs are cheap so they each got some. The thing was, their experience was different from mine. One of the biggest reasons they each wore their helmet much of the time was that the wind noise was uncomfortable for them. That was because neither of them had windshields on their bikes. Now me, I had a windshield right from the start. I never liked that blast of wind and the very first modification I made to my bike was to add a windshield.

Without windshields, they just weren’t comfortable without helmets, at least at high speeds. But now, with the earplugs, that discomfort was gone. And both of them started riding without their helmets a lot more. Unintended–and unexpected–consequences.

Both of them eventually went back to wearing their helmets most of the time long before I ever did. But what was funny was that while they both totally adopted ear plug use I never really did. I still carry them with me all the time but I almost never think to put them in. I know it would be good if I did but it just never seems to cross my mind when I’m gearing up.

But hey–I never ride without the helmet. And I never expect to again.

Biker Quote for Today

Motorcycles are almost as good as guitars for meeting girls.

OFMC As Trend-Setters? Oh, Sure

Monday, October 19th, 2026


Real bikers were into tattoos long before they became fashionable.

We did tattoos before they were everywhere. For a few days.

Younger people may be surprised to learn that there was a time not that long ago when tattoos were looked down upon as something only sailors and lowlifes got into. I’m really not sure how that outlook changed. I was going to suggest (facetiously) that the OFMC had something to do with it but in reality we were probably just riding on the cusp of a wave that was building before we got on it.

Back in 1994 when the OFMC was preparing for our annual summer ride one of us had an idea. Let’s all get tattoos. But just the temporary kind, the kind that you wet your skin and stick this thing on and the image transfers. Then they wash off in a week or so, maybe longer if you’re careful with it.

The idea of course was for us to sort of masquerade as real hard-core bikers. That was always an ongoing joke between us, knowing full well we were nothing of the sort. But we enjoyed referring to ourselves as “stud bikers.” So what stud biker is complete without tattoos?

At the time the popular idea of tattoos was just starting to change. If you went to the People’s Fair, a long-time Denver event, you were seeing more and more booths where you could look through different images and then pick one to have for yourself. “Proper” society was still leery of actual tattoos but temporary tattoos were definitely in vogue. So Bill and John and I each got a temporary tattoo.

Then we headed out on our one-week ride looking forward to seeing the reaction our skin art would elicit.

And that response was non-existent. It didn’t help that Bill’s washed off quickly, and that John had his put on in a spot where it was usually concealed by his clothing. But mine was right out there for the world to see and nobody said one word about it and I never so much as caught a single person looking furtively at it. Yes sir, we were really the stud bikers.

And then the world changed. Now real tattoos are everywhere. And most of these people have never been on a motorcycle in their lives.

Don’t ask me to explain it. I’m just an observer here.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if your tattoos all wash off.

Riding The Million-Dollar Highway

Thursday, October 1st, 2026


As far as the general public can go on the road at the bottom of the Black Canyon.

Nick was underwhelmed. His number one objective in coming out from Chicago was to ride this magical “Million-Dollar Highway” that he had heard so much about. I guess he thought the sheer canyon portion of it ran most of the distance between Durango and Ouray. When it turned out that stretch is only about 10 miles he was let down. Oh well. It’s still a terrific ride in my opinion.

We left Durango that morning and I needed gas. Nick had just filled up in South Fork so he was fine. Because he only buys gas from “top tier” stations I rode past a couple I would have stopped at, plus one he would have stopped at that was on the other side of the street. It’s just so much easier if the station is right there on your right.

But there isn’t much gas on the right side of the road on your way north out of Durango. No matter, I knew there was a station ahead before we would get up on Molas Pass. If Nick didn’t want to get gas there that was his choice.

Well, it was a Marathon and he’s OK with Marathon, so we both filled up. I had been leading and expected to continue to lead but we pulled up to get on the highway and he took off, at a point where there was traffic approaching that I would have let get by.

So I took off, too, and as we got into our lane he nailed his throttle. I did the same but my 650 Suzuki does not have the acceleration his 1200 BMW does. Just then I was startled to find a truck hauling a couple cars screaming past me on the right. I’m sure that driver had many choice curse words for me. Why did this idiot pull out in front of him like that when he was moving so fast!!?? You really do need to ride your own ride.

That left us separated, which was fine with me at that point, until Nick stopped at the top of Molas Pass, as I figured he would. We had no desire to stop in Silverton so we just continued past and headed on up Red Mountain Pass. On over the top, down, and through the relatively short section of canyon. Down into Ouray and it was time for a break.

We had been kicking around going up to Montrose and then east by way of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison or up to Delta, then east to Hotchkiss. We decided to go to Montrose. We got to the turn-off for the national park and headed on in. We had ridden up CO 92 along the north rim of the Black Canyon the last time Nick had been out so this time we agreed to ride the south rim. After that we headed for the East Portal Road.

The East Portal Road is a very steep, twisty road that goes from the rim all the way down to the river at the bottom. It’s a favorite with motorcyclists. We went down and road the stretch at the bottom that goes as far upriver as you can. Got off the bikes, shot a few pictures, and headed back up and out. Then back to US 50 and on to Gunnison.

Going past the Blue Mesa Reservoir it was more empty than I have ever seen it. The word is that they are draining most of the upriver reservoirs in order to keep Lake Mead from dropping so low that the hydro plant can no longer produce electricity. We’re in a serious drought.

At Gunnison we checked in at our motel, a place the OFMC has stayed but which more recently had tried to shift to a more upper crust clientele. Apparently that effort did not work out well because we had gotten our room there that night at a very good price.

And that was day three of this four-day trip.

Biker Quote for Today

100 reasons not to date a biker: 23. Can’t find us? We’re in the garage again. We live in the garage.

The OFMC Loses One

Monday, August 31st, 2026


Friggs shows the impact his helmet saved his head.

Friggs died on Sunday. Five years after a cancer diagnosis it finally did him in. He is the first of the OFMC to go.

The OFMC was started in 1989 and then consisted of John, Bill, and me. The first newcomer to the group was John’s son Johnathon. The second was Friggs, Bill’s brother, in 2000. Friggs started out on a Virago but eventually moved up to a Harley.

After joining us a few times he took a contract job in St. Louis, so he missed a few. He wanted to ride out there, though, so I rode his Virago to St. Louis and he bought me a plane ticket home. That was a win-win.

Back in Denver, he rode with us every year up until 2018. On that trip we were cruising on some winding road in New Mexico, with brand new (within the last week) pavement and suddenly he was not there behind us. But Dennis, in front of him, heard the crash and went back, finding him and his bike lying in the road. Friggs was able to finish the trip but as soon as we got home he sold the bike and never rode again. No one, not even he, ever had any idea why he went down.

The OFMC got ever smaller after that trip and we made our last ride together in 2024. By that time it was down to Dennis, Bill, and me. And Bill told us he was done.

But we were all still here, if not riding together any more. Some not riding at all. But now the circle is broken.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if you have little eagles on all your clothes.

Biker Encounters With People While On The Road

Monday, September 8th, 2025

The OFMC at the Grand Canyon.

People always want to talk to you when you’re out on motorcycles, have you noticed? Of course you have. They look at us wistfully and reminisce about when they had a bike, or how great it must be to just get out on the road and go, or whatever thoughts we stir. Bikers are so daring, so cute and lovable, right? How can you not strike up a conversation with them?

Usually those conversations go pleasantly and everyone parts with good feelings. Usually.

Then there was the time the OFMC was at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, in the parking lot by the lodge (burned down in summer 2025!) when a family on vacation struck up a conversation. Cool bikes. Hey, would it be OK if our son climbed on board one? Oh sure, what the heck, no harm.

Well, no. The boy climbed on, wearing shorts, and managed to let his bare leg press up against one of the exhaust pipes. Blazing hot exhaust pipe. Yow!!!

OK, that didn’t go so well.

Then there was the time in Aspen when we struck up a conversation with a couple cougars who seemed to think we were of interest. Things went pleasantly right up to the point where I asked one of them if, way back years ago, Hunter Thompson ever had any chance of winning his run for election as sheriff of Pitkin County.

This was a simple question based on my honest interest in whether the answer was yes or no. You would never know that from the response I got. She replied scornfully that no, he never had a chance, and did we think they were all stupid? Well, I never suggested that, I was asking a simple question.

I did reply that it would be nice to have a sheriff who wouldn’t arrest anyone for simple possession of marijuana. She then got quite nasty, pointing out that marijuana was illegal (back then), whereas her drug of choice was alcohol (which was legal by then but back in the 1920s this was not the case). And by this point she had certainly had plenty of her drug of choice. We didn’t stick around a lot longer.

Fortunately, these less than great encounters are vastly outnumbered by the good ones. But the not so good ones make better stories, don’t they?

Biker Quote for Today

If you are going faster than everything else you only have to worry about what is in front of you.

Tales Of The OFMC: Encountering The Herd

Thursday, September 4th, 2025

How the heck do we get through this herd?

If you’ve been around the West much you may have encountered this sort of thing yourself: There’s a sheep herder moving his flock, or maybe it’s a bunch of cowboys moving a herd of cattle to new pasture. Either way, they’re taking up the entire road and you’re kind of stuck.

It happened to Judy and the kids on a summer camping trip many years ago. They were going along this little-used road when they came upon sheep. Everywhere. The sheep herder was apologetic and said he’d get them moved out of their way as quickly as possible but Judy and the kids were fascinated watching the sheep dogs do their work. Take your time, they told him.

It also happened to the OFMC one year. We were heading northeast out of Chama, New Mexico, toward Antonito, Colorado, over Cumbres and La Manga Passes when we encountered a herd of cattle. The cowboys and their dogs were doing their best to keep the herd moving but they could not have been less concerned about this group of bikers being held up by the cattle.

We didn’t see that we had much option other than to wait, but that might have been a long wait. Not certain what to do, we did nothing for a bit. Then a guy in a large pick-up came up behind us, sized up the situation, and pulled past us and started blowing his horn as he came up on the cows’ rears. They started jostling and pushing the crowd away, opening up a path for the pick-up.

We were thrilled. Let’s go guys, make some noise!!

We did our best to fall in behind the truck, though it got further ahead of us after a while and the herd filled in the space. All of us were blowing our horns, the Harley boys were revving their engines as loudly as they could, and we just counted on the cattle to get out of our way, which they did, sort of.

So we’re shoving our way through the herd and John, who was leading, took to pulling some shenanigans. We didn’t get it at the time but he told us later that he would deliberately ride through a cow pie and then rev his engine to break traction and–hopefully, for him–throw chunks of the cow pie up onto those of us behind him. Nice guy, John. Fortunately for the rest of us, his plan didn’t work.

This was slow going, and a good number of cows left the road and started climbing up the hill on the left or down the slope on the right. The cowboys and dogs kept busy guiding them back to the herd. And we finally got through. That was one unexpected highlight to this trip.

Now every time I go over those passes I wonder if I’m going to run into another herd. And I try to identify the stretch along which it happened but you’re out in the forest, you know, and one stand of trees looks pretty much like any other stand of trees.

But it makes a great story.

Biker Quote for Today

“What happened on the way, who I met, all that was incidental. I had not quite realized that the interruptions were the journey.” — Ted Simon, Jupiter’s Travels