Passes & Canyons Blog

I’m going to share a secret: When I don’t have any thoughts on something to write about I fall back on a few tried and true topics. This is one of those times. It’s time for the latest in strange things bikers have hit, courtesy of the Adventure Riders forum.

We all know there are hazards on the road out there. Here are some that other folks have actually encountered.

• Wile E. Coyote. Riding an HP2 I had just bought in Denton Texas. Just outside Midland Texas on I-20. There was a ton of traffic and it was gusty as hell. :eek1 I tucked in behind an 18 wheeler and then a dickweed got right on my ass. I got closer to the semi but the wind buffeting was making it rough at 65-70 mph we were running. I eased over into the center of the lane where it was much smoother and started to back off the semi. Just as I did the semi trailer seemed to do a slight swerve and it caught my attention. Just then a coyote came rolling down the dead center of the lane like a rolling pin. The truck rolled him and all I had the time to do was grab a breath and relax. I felt a slight thump as I rolled right over him mid-section. I heard the ass behind me lock them up but didn’t look to see what happened. I was just ecstatic that I didn’t go down and was alive. I laughed till I was crying. Strange days in West Texas!
• Around 3am, while driving in left lane of an interstate and in a very dark rural area, a male jumped up from tall grass in the center median. He was shirtless, in jeans and had very long hair. He ran into my lane while swinging a sock over his head, with a heavy object inside. He missed me and I missed him by inches, swerving sharply right to avoid him- scared the hell out of me as I tried to maintain control with left and right sliding.
• Went to pick up my wife’s then new CM400A, and we stopped for dinner. parked next to the car, and took off my helmet. Bike was still idling. Put my helmet ont he mirror, and it started going forward. I was dumstruck on what to do other than hobble along with it and finally cut the engine, after i hopped the curb and hit the door.
• Years ago on a long ride up to the Yukon in very heavy rain I’m sure I was passed by a forty ton goldfish. I found somewhere to sleep soon after that.
• Just recently had the contents of the rear axle on a semi spat at me, almost took me out for keeps.
• I came around a tight dirt corner and had just enough time to see him before I ran him over. Stretched out six foot long bull snake, but they look like rattlers from a dirt bike. He arched a horseshoe like in a cartoon. Scared the crap outa me.
• My face…….. After learning why rebound valving is important and slowwwwwwwwwwly sliding over front fender as 1984 CR125 plodded merrily along in 5th gear.
• It was a flying armadillo. While riding through LA (lower Arkansas) one night late, the Ford Explorer in front of me swerved towards the shoulder. Well, an armadillo LAUNCHED from his R rear wheel straight towards me. I was riding up pretty high on a 1100GS. It came directly over the windscreen and I was just able to duck or it would have easily taken me off the bike. I was pushing on to Texarkana but after that I stopped at the next motel.
• Me… About 1/2 mile in to the start of a desert race along with about 400 others. I killed my bike on the start and was near the back of the pack, wound out on my 1989 CR500 trying to make up for lost time (I had the hole-shot the year before). Too late I saw a big rock and nailed it straight on. Flew over the bars and bounced – several times. Ended up sitting upright facing forward. A split second later the lights went out. My bike hit me square in the back. I woke up looking at the sky wondering when the feeling would come back. Luckily only a concussion.

You know the deal: be careful out there. You never know what might be around that next curve.

Biker Quote for Today

If you think riding gets the adrenalin pumping, try getting a wasp in your helmet.

OK, Examiner finally did it. After eight years, first as the Denver Motorcycle Examiner and then as the National Motorcycle Examiner, I have written about riding motorcycles for Examiner.com but that association has ended. They’ve ticked me off for the last time.

Just so you’ll know, Examiner.com is a crowd-sourced website for news and features and whatever else you might want to write on just about any topic. Headquartered in Denver, in the very beginning they went looking for writers and they found me. I don’t even remember any more but I was approximately the 179th writer, or “Examiner,” they signed up. There have since been tens of thousands of Examiners that have come and gone, and “gone” applies to the vast majority of that number.

It was slow in the beginning, and the pay was chickenfeed, but things grew and the money started getting to be pretty darn good. Good enough that when I left a regular job at First Data Corporation I told Judy I was not going to look for another one, I was going to be the National Motorcycle Examiner full-time.

After awhile they started “adjusting” the pay scheme. Frequently. And every time they made an adjustment it meant exactly one thing: the writers were going to make less money. But I stuck with it. I developed other freelance markets and they became my primary income so the Examiner income was just supplemental to that, and every dollar was welcome.

Then they really made me angry. They wanted to improve the quality of the writing on their site, and I’ll be the first to say it needed improving. Far too many of the Examiners were people who had no clue about spelling, grammar, punctuation, or how to craft a sentence to make sense. So they set up reviewers to look at your work and grade you on how good you did. The problem was, the people they hired were not exactly English majors; they were just whatever low-paid people they could bring on who they gave a list of so-called grammatical rules to judge by. Many of the people who needed to improve resented getting low grades and they left. I would consider that a good thing. But they also used their rules to grade my writing and they were totally off base.

It is said that a beginner needs to learn the rules of whatever trade they’re engaging in. A master knows the rules but then deliberately breaks them for a very specific purpose. That’s what makes them a master. Pardon my immodesty but I consider myself a master. I have earned my living as a writer for more 40 years and I’ve done very nicely, thank you. To have some kid tell me my work was unacceptable because I violated some of these so-called rules was too much for me. I cut back to the absolute minimum they require for you to continue to get paid for the page-views your stuff gets. Like about once a month, versus the three times a week I had been putting up.

That little bout of quality control soon faded but now, more than two years later, they have brought it back with a vengeance, and this time your piece gets reviewed before it gets published. And sometimes even after. Having been around so long, the technology they used when the site was new has changed and my early stuff is in technology that is not compatible with what is currently used. So they recently unpublished the first six months or so of my stuff. I have been selectively going through and republishing articles that have continued relevance, and labeling them as such.

Imagine my surprise to find that one of these “redo” pieces I recently put up again has been unpublished. And while the note on why left matters totally unclear, it appears part of the reason was that “it had already been unpublished” so what scam are you trying to pull putting something back up that has been deemed unfit?

Last straw. There is no National Motorcycle Examiner any more. I’m through with those fools. But for those of you who are interested, I did put up one final “Only a biker knows” piece with one more batch of 20 biker quotes. They have all come from this blog but the one immediately below will never join the others on Examiner.

Meanwhile, I just checked and they have not allowed that last 20 quotes to be published because:

Newsworthy
This article is not newsworthy. (Duh! I never claimed it was.)
Note from the reviewer:
This article is too fragmented. Please refrain from using more than 3 one-sentence paragraphs whenever possible. (OK, it’s a bulleted list. What do you expect?)

Can you see why I’m through with Examiner?

Biker Quote for Today

Merely rolling a bike out in anticipation of a ride feels liberating. — Clement Salvadori

There’s a lot of talk these days about what really is or is not a motorcycle. Most of this talk centers around the proliferation of three-wheeled “bikes” that many riders would argue are not motorcycles at all. In addition to the conversions, where someone has taken an actual two-wheeled motorcycle and added a third wheel, these primarily include the Can-Am Spyder and the very new Polaris Slingshot.

Of course the big issue is really in what safety organizations classify as motorcycles because the data they collect are used to establish various legal requirements and if three-wheeler stats influence overall motorcycle stats that does a disservice to everyone. They really need a new vehicle classification and that seems to be in the works, though how soon we’ll see something like that in use is anyone’s guess.

With that too-long lead-in, I want to mention a three-wheeler that I don’t think anyone would call a motorcycle (though I could be wrong about that, state classifications being what they are). This is the Morgan 3 Wheeler.

If you’re like me, you’ve never even heard of this vehicle. But at the place we stayed two nights in Gunnison on this last OFMC trip there were three guys also staying there, one on a Harley, one on one of the new Honda Valkyries, and one in (key word: in) a Morgan 3 Wheeler. They were using Gunnison as their base and taking day rides. And man, was that Morgan an interesting hybrid.

For starters, that is a motorcycle engine sitting right up front. It’s a 1989cc S&S v-twin. Beyond that, though, it looks like an old style Indy race car from the 1930s, except it only has one wheel in the rear. It’s very light and has a lot of power and is supposed to be a lot of fun to drive. But it is emphatically not a motorcycle.

Speaking of the Slingshot, by the way, we saw a couple of those on this trip as well. Because you sit in them, very much like a dune buggy, I would have a hard time considering them motorcycles either. But we did note that, because it’s just body, chassis, and engine, there is no storage space, so those folks had their bags bungeed on the back just like we do on motorcycles.

I welcome this proliferation of new designs. Now it’s up to the regulators to move into the current century and figure out a legitimate way to classify them.

Biker Quote for Today

Nothing like trikes and even less like three-wheeled automobiles, sidecars accentuate the balance and ineffable grace of a single-tracker in approximately the manner and degree that crutches improve the performance of steeplechasers. — Jack Lewis

Anyone who travels on their motorcycle knows you inevitably end up meeting and talking with a lot of people, primarily about motorcycles. This last OFMC trip was no different with the exception that an awful lot of that talk focused on just one bike: the new Indian Roadmaster that Dennis was riding.

Some people–like me–buy a motorcycle and hang onto it. If you buy a new one you’re adding to the stable, not replacing bikes. Others–like Dennis–get new bikes every year or two and never have more than one bike at a time. A couple years ago Dennis got a new Harley and I figured this was a bike he would keep for longer than most. Wrong.

Awhile back we all got an email with a photo attached: Dennis with his new Indian.

Dennis had recently received a small inheritance and he decided to go whole hog and get this bike. What sold him on it was the seat height. He’s pretty short so it has been amusing to see him on his tip-toes on his old Gold Wing and the last two Harleys he has had. The seat height on the Indian is only 26 inches. How totally amazing to see him straddling the bike with his feet planted flat on the ground, and even a little bend in his knees. Yes, he’s very happy with it.

This trip was the first time any of us got to see this new bike. And everywhere we went, this was the bike people were asking us about. It was almost comical. Inevitably, someone would be surveying the bunch of bikes, commenting on how nice they all looked, and then they would focus in on one particular bike. The same one every time.

“How does that Indian ride?” would be the question, or something like that.

“Hey Dennis, someone’s asking about your bike,” became a common call.

And Dennis was always more than pleased to tell them all about it.

He does figure that this is the bike he will hold onto for a long time. Indians are too expensive for him to just be buying a new one every couple years. And where else will he find a big cruiser like this with a seat that low?

I really think Harley and the others are missing the boat. If Indian can make a bike with a 26-inch seat height, why can’t others? There are plenty of other short guys out there, and a world full of women even shorter. Maybe this will finally get some wheels turning in some corporate minds.

Biker Quote for Today

Owning a motorcycle is not a matter of life or death. It’s much more important than that.

There was one point on this recent OFMC trip where I think everyone would agree the riding was more than memorable.

We had just come through the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area and were somewhere in the vicinity of Natural Bridges National Monument and we came upon a series of tight turns. This is normally something we who ride find delightful: tucking in, leaning first this way and then that and then back this way, maybe even scraping some hard parts if you’re on that type of bike. But in these very same turns we also encountered something we were not thrilled about: tar snakes.

Not just a few; they were like a spider web, going everywhere in every direction. Totally impossible to avoid. And right there on these tight turns where we were already leaned over, with not a lot of traction to spare.

Holy crap! Nothing to do but ride it through.

Of course that’s a lot easier to say than to do when you feel your front tire sliding out from under you only to then feel your rear tire going, while the front has stabilized. But stabilized only for a second because as soon as you’re past one there are three more in your path. And sometimes your front and back tires are sliding at the same time.

So we got through a series of turns like that and breathed a sigh of relief but just a minute later here was another series of turns with just as many snakes as the last time. Yow!

Of course, it was a hot day, so they were soft and oozing. There was not a single one of us who had encountered tar snakes that bad ever before. No one went down and no one got hurt but every one of us had a memorable experience that came up in conversation more than once in the next couple days.

Here’s a bit of advice I found on how to deal with them: Once on the tar snakes and leaned over go loose on the bars and don’t chop the throttle. Look for pavement areas that look to have less tar and try to alter your line/lean to get the front tire there. If possible cross the tar snakes at 90° or at angles never ride along the length of a tar snake.

Thanks to dirtrider for that bit of advice. And yes, that seems to be the consensus, don’t over-react, stay loose and ride it through.

Then of course, later in the day we ran into about 10 miles of new chip seal. Brand new chip seal. Not our favorite day of the trip.

Biker Quote for Today

Tar Snakes. Their bite is painful. Their laughter is silent. — RedWings

Free Eggs blasted out of Ignacio on his way home, after hearing that his lady friend had broken her foot in a car crash. The rest of us left later, at a much easier pace. Into Ignacio proper, then east on CO 151 through Arboles and up to US 160 a little west of Pagosa Springs. Then up over Wolf Creek Pass to South Fork and northwest on CO 149 to Creede. Here we made an obligatory stop for ice cream. An army may travel on its stomach but the OFMC travels on ice cream. At least if Dennis has anything to say about it.

Then up and over Slumgullion and Spring Creek Passes to Lake City and down to Gunnison. The nearly constant rain and overcast had finally abated and was replaced with sun and heat. Personally, I’ll take the rain and cool.

In recent years we have taken to stopping for two nights somewhere along the line, generally playing golf on our day off from riding. This was our Gunnison stop. We stayed at the Water Wheel Inn, which backs immediately onto the Dos Rios golf course so we didn’t even have to do anything except walk on over to the clubhouse. We liked the course and the motel so I suspect they have not seen the last of the OFMC.

On golf day, however, some members needed to head out so Ray and Johnathon took off. The remaining six played golf, and then most of us enjoyed the weekly catfish fry at the clubhouse for dinner. It was very nice to take a break after riding so much.

Saturday morning came and it was time to split up. John headed west to Montrose while Dennis, Randy, and Bread headed to Denver. I had been in touch with my friend Kevin, who I had just been on another long ride with a few weeks ago, and he invited us to breakfast. Bill and I accepted, so we got a more leisurely start.

Soon enough, though, it was time to roll and we headed toward Monarch Pass. Even on Saturday, however, there was road construction in progress so there were delays. Then at Poncha Springs Bill peeled off to stop at his daughter, Jenna’s, place and I rode on alone. By 3 p.m. I was home, uneventfully, and this year’s trip was over. And I have no desire whatsoever to go anywhere else any time soon. Three long trips in two months has satisfied me. For now.

Biker Quote for Today

Murphy’s Motorcycle Laws: 5. The only part you really need will also be the only part on permanent back order.

The OFMC rolled out of Vernal heading for something special: new roads. We’ve been all over Utah but in plotting out this trip John realized there is a section in the middle–south of US 40, north of I-70–where we had never been. And looking at the Utah map by Butler Maps, he saw there was some red and yellow on some of those roads. Time to fix this deficit.

We headed west to Duchesne, a town we’ve been familiar with since the very earliest days of the OFMC, but then did something different–we turned south on US 191. This took us through a canyon and over a range of mountains that were pretty nice all on their own, but they were only the beginning. We hit US 6 as it comes out of Price and jogged northwest a short distance until we turned west and south again on Utah 96, which goes past Scofield State Park and the town of Scofield. This is called the energy loop and we passed a variety of mines, power plants, and a (presumably) hydro lake name Electric Lake.

Past Scofield the road became Utah 264 and twisted and curved its way up on a high ridge. This was some of the red on the Butler map. Red means good. Up on top we hit Utah 31 and it descends through a long canyon, more red, then yellow, all the way to Huntington, where we picked up Utah 10, to Ferron. Ferron was our stop for the night. A little town out in the middle of not much that makes you wonder how people make a living way out here.

The following day we stayed on 10 until it hit I-70 and after a short jog west we continued south on Utah 72. More yellow and red as we cruised up a canyon and over a pass. More gorgeous country we had never seen. And I might add here that so far we were missing all the July heat we could easily have encountered. Each day was cloudy, even rainy, so going over passes we were bundling up and every once in awhile we were putting on the rain gear. We’ll take that over 100 degree heat any time.

Running down Utah 72 toward Loa we took the more roundabout route of Utah 25 around Fish Lake. More red and yellow. Judy and I had been on this road some years ago but we were going the other direction so it’s always good to take a road the other way. Then we hit Utah 24 and turned east to Loa and Bicknell and Torrey and through Capitol Reef National Park. Out the other side we were at Hanksville, our stop for the night.

The Hanksville Inn was gritty but very biker friendly and they gave us our own corner of the place with a patio all our own. We added some excitement to this little burg when John suffered a medical issue he is familiar with but which we had no warning of. We found him seemingly comatose and called 911 but a quick call to his wife, Cheryl, by his son, Johnathon, gave us the tactics we needed to revive him. Cheryl was totally calm, having been through this numerous times, but we were taken unawares, and the ambulance did show up, siren wailing and lights flashing. And John, of course, was embarrassed by it all and wished we hadn’t called 911.

And oh yes: at Hanksville we met up with Ray and Randy and Johnathon, who had ridden from Denver that day. So that made us nine.

The next morning we turned south out of Hanksville on Utah 95 headed through the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. The last time the OFMC had been on this road we were headed the other direction and we had come to Hite on the south side of the lake and spent the night before taking the ferry across in the morning. In the years since then the level of the lake has dropped precipitously and the Hite marina has been abandoned. They built a bridge or two to get you across and so this time we took the bridges.

Just south of Blanding we hit US 191 and turned south to Bluff. Here we took a less well known series of roads that cut across north of the Four Corners area, saving us time and avoiding that tourist attraction. About 10 miles out of Cortez we ran into new chip seal and oh boy was that a mess. If I’d been on the V-Strom or even on my CB750 it would have been better but the Concours hates gravel. But we endured.

Then from Cortez on to the snarl that is Durango and finally to Ignacio, the the Sky Ute casino and hotel for the obligatory gambling spot we always have on these trips. Along the way Friggs (Free Eggs, that is) got word that his lady friend, Vicky, had been in a car accident and early this Thursday morning he set out for home. The rest of us are on to Gunnison today. Right now, though, it’s breakfast time.

Biker Quote for Today

Riding my motorcycle around L.A. is like my own video game. But unlike many folks at the wheel, I am occupied with getting where I’m going and keeping myself safe. Most people are applying makeup, texting, and checking out the beauty in the next car. — Hugh Laurie

Our third day of riding on this year’s OFMC trip is done and we’ve gone all of about 450 miles. This is an easygoing trip.

Starting out the first day our meet-up point was the Century Casino in Central City. Bill, John, Dennis, and I came together there and got on the Peak-to-Peak Highway headed for Estes Park. The wind had been gusting pretty hard when I arrived and Dennis especially was concerned about rain, so there was some suiting up before we left. Of course the sun came out brightly as soon as we left so by Nederland it was time to stop and peel off this unbearably hot stuff.

An uneventful, but very pretty, ride brought us to Estes Park where we checked in to the Twin Owls Motel. I truly believe that perhaps 30-50 years ago this may have been one of the premier lodging establishments in Estes Park but boy, this old girl is showing her age. It’s still attractive, with a nice patio and a lobby full of extremely large plants, but the place needs repair and many of the old repairs are themselves in need of repair. Kind of Sad. But a nice view.

In Estes we were joined by two more, Free Eggs and Bread. John tried to speak a text message to Friggs and Bret and his phone interpreted their names in a way we found sufficiently comical to saddle them with those names for the rest of the trip.

A little confusion ensued in the morning as John led the way toward Rocky Mountain National Park. When the lead four made a traffic light and two did not, nobody waited around for us to catch up. A conversation had been held discussing the route but certain of us were not privy to that discussion. So I took the lead and Bread and I headed to the Fall River Road and into the park that way. I knew there were two entrances, however, and suspected the others had gone the other way so we cruised on to where the two roads meet before heading up Trail Ridge Road. Sure enough, they were coming the other way and we met them there.

Trail Ridge was good. Not horrible traffic and not overly chilly. And the elk were having a field day. We saw herds in three different spots and they were out there just prancing and showing off their racks like they owned the place. Which they pretty much do. All the crowds of tourists stopping to look and shoot photos were restricted to the road and the paths while the elk had free run of the whole mountain. Very cool.

Down where that road meets US 40 just outside of Granby we stopped for gas and a break and the new Indian Dennis is riding got a lot of attention. The bike that caught my attention, however, was the one ridden by Dave of Missouri, who pulled in on a 2002 Kawasaki Concours. I’m on my 1999 Concours on this trip so we had to talk and exchange notes. Turns out Dave just bought this bike two weeks ago specifically for this trip he and his buddy are on. We compared gear and I was very interested in his Givi top bag while he was very interested in my highway pegs. He was definitely feeling the lack of those.

Heading west on US 40 we ran into light rain at Hot Sulphur Springs but John, in the lead, made the decision I would have made, which was to keep going and ride out the other side of it. We did get wet going up Byers Canyon, and there were placing when you could just see the rain in the air up ahead of us, but we did ride out the other side and by the time we got to Kremmling we were dry again.

A little past Kremmling we turned onto the road over Gore Pass and it soon became very clear we would be getting wet, so we stopped and suited up. And a moderate rain did come down. But hey, if you don’t ride in the rain you don’t ride. We ride. And by the time we reached Toponas it was pretty well over with.

We turned north from Toponas just the short distance to Oak Creek and that was our stopping point for the day. The Oak Creek Motel is very nice and the two restaurants in town both serve good food. After we had walked over for dinner and were back at the motel the rain started and this time it was coming down pretty hard, along with some powerful winds. We were sitting out under the eaves of the motel when a couple on a BMW came into the parking lot, obviously looking for shelter. Sadly for them, though the motel was not full, the proprietors had turned on the No Vacancy sign, presumably they did not want to be bothered late at night by new arrivals. The beemer folks saw the sign and rode a circle and headed back out. We commented on how that poor guy was probably hearing it big time from his lady friend about why he hadn’t wanted to make reservations. We sure were glad not to be in their predicament.

It was raining in the morning when we got up so we had breakfast and got all suited up. It rained lightly for a while but soon the clouds started to lift. We were heading west on US 40 again and stopped before we got to Hayden to unsuit. On to Craig, Maybell, and Dinosaur and then we were into Utah. The first town of any size is Vernal and that was our destination today. Fourth time I’ve been in Vernal in the last two months. We didn’t have lunch so we had an early dinner and now the guys are out in the pool. It’s hot here! And now I’ve got this blog post written I guess I’ll go join them.

Biker Quote for Today

The only time you’ve got too much gas is when you’re on fire.