Motorcycle Travel Network Brings More Good Guests

October 19th, 2017
motorcyclists taking off gear

John and Cindy on their arrival.

In this era of AirBnB it may not seem as odd as it once did to open your home to total strangers, but that is what the Motorcycle Travel Network (MTN) has been about since long before AirBnB ever existed. We have belonged to MTN for years and have been hosts and guests numerous times. We had a chance to be hosts again last week, and as always, we thoroughly enjoyed it.

John and Cindy are from Pennsylvania and they had been on the road on their new 1600cc Beemer for a month, mostly out in Utah. Being from the east, they had never spent time in Utah and were thrilled with the beauty of what they encountered. Of course, those of us who live out west are fully aware of what Utah has to offer. One of the beauties of MTN is that if we were to go to Pennsylvania, I fully expect John and Cindy could direct us to some places we are just as unfamiliar with.

It was a spur of the moment thing. I opened my email that morning and there was a note from them, from Grand Junction, asking if we could host them that night. I quickly checked with Judy, who assented, and I emailed back that we would be happy to have them. They called a few minutes later to ask if we had any route recommendations.

Mind you, this was just after our snowstorm last week so I may have done them a disservice. I mentioned the storm and suggested they just stick to I-70, that they might find Vail Pass covered in snow and ice, which would be bad enough. As it turned out, Vail Pass was totally clear with 60-degree temps. Maybe I should have suggested Loveland Pass. But I have no idea if it was clear then or not.

They arrived and turned out to be really nice folks. You always kind of wonder before you meet someone but we have never had a guest we wished we had not met, and many have been people we would love to see again. Maybe it’s just that the kind of person willing to stay with a total stranger is just going to be on the same wavelength of the person who is willing to open their home to a total stranger. Of course, you always know right from the start that you are going to have motorcycles in common.

As it turned out, we had much more in common with John and Cindy than just motorcycles. And this has been their experience in the group as well. John told us about several good friends of their who they have ridden with many times who they met through MTN. I guess it’s just a good bunch of people.

So come morning we decided to ride with them a ways. They were going to be heading east but staying south to avoid colder weather so we led them out Parker Road down to Franktown and then east on CO 86 to Kiowa. There we said our good-byes and turned north on the Kiowa-Bennett road and looped back home while they continued east.

And you know what? We have another MTN guest coming next week. Oh, boy! This is fun.

Biker Quote for Today

Nobody gives you freedom. If you’re a biker, you take it.

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Riding In The Waning Days Of Summer

October 16th, 2017
motorcycle in the mountains

Summer is waning and there won’t be many more rides like this this year.

I was heading up Clear Creek Canyon when it started to rain. It was at that moment that it occurred to me that my rain suit was in the bag on the Honda. I was on the Concours. Not going to do me any good now.

No matter, it never rained hard. In fact, it was pretty cool. They were tiny drops and so rather than plummeting to earth they danced on the breeze, hanging semi-suspended. With backlighting from the sun, each individual drop was visible and scattered color around in a zillion mini-rainbows. I had my visor slightly cracked and so the moisture was coming in and wetting me around my mouth, which was also pleasant. Felt good.

It wasn’t long, though, before I was reminded that my number one job at the moment was riding the bike. A sharp curve brought that focus back very abruptly. Oh yeah, first things first.

As I climbed through the canyon I paid attention to the steep rock walls. Many years ago I became jaded, having been through this particular canyon so often that I lost all sense of its beauty. That appreciation has come back to me, however, and with the weather as it was it was particularly beautiful that day.

All along the road there were cars pulled over and people hiking and climbing and generally enjoying the day in the canyon. My focus was spread wide to take it all in. Then I passed into Tunnel 2 and was struck with the abrupt constricting of my focus–the literal reality of tunnel vision. No wide-ranging view, just the road ahead of me. I don’t recall it ever striking me with that force before.

Gaining in elevation as I was, it was getting cooler. This was the first time this fall I have used the electric vest and I was glad to have it on. And this was just a harbinger of the ride I took up Guanella Pass a couple days later. Summer is over. Pretty soon, chilly days like this are going to seem balmy and demand that I ride. Right now I’m just trying to take advantage whenever I can.

Later as I was headed home it occurred to me that I would be just in time to stop and have dinner with the RMMRC. Only one more big ride left this year and the next few meetings will be focused on rides for next year. I had planned to go on a bunch of them this year but family matters conflicted and those rides mostly didn’t happen.

The year is coming to a close and now my sights are on the future. I’m looking forward to a good 2018.

Biker Quote for Today

All I care about is riding . . . and like maybe three people and beer.

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Last Ride In The Hills This Year?

October 12th, 2017
motorcycle in the mountains

A beautiful day on the pass, even if I was too late for fall colors.

Sunday was warm and sunny, and you could still ride up onto Guanella Pass. I know, because I did. By Monday, not true. This may have been my last ride in the mountains in 2017.

I had been wanting to get up in the hills to enjoy some of the fall color but with my Mom ill I had been in South Carolina for awhile. Then I got back and we had almost two solid weeks of overcast and rain–not at all like typical Colorado weather. Finally the sun came out but other demands kept delaying me, until I realized it was Sunday or not at all. I geared up and headed out.

Not that I really geared up sufficiently. Heading out of town across Hampden/U.S. 285 I was already getting chilly but I did have my electric vest on so I flipped it to on. I was wearing long underwear and had multiple layers on top, but only my least warm gloves. And I had intended to wear my leather chaps but forgot them as I got ready.

No matter, the vest really did the job. With it pumping out heat, everything else abated.

My intention was just to run up Guanella Pass from the Georgetown side and then back the same way. I had other things I needed to do at home and going down to Grant and home on 285 would have taken a lot longer. But I began reconsidering as I saw all the traffic streaming down on I-70 and realized it was the dreaded Sunday afternoon. Maybe I better rethink this.

Off I-70 at Georgetown and starting up the pass. I didn’t really know for sure if the road was clear or if maybe it had ice on it at places. Turns out it was completely free of that kind of slippery stuff but in all — and I mean all — of the switchbacks there was plentiful gravel, obviously spread there to improve traction–for cars, not motorcycles. Take it slow; not a problem.

The V-Strom is a fun bike to ride on twisting mountain roads. It is (relatively) light and agile and every time I got clear of traffic in front of me I was able to whip it (except on the switchbacks). This is what makes riding in the mountains so fun. There were very strong winds in just a few spots but not for the most part. What caused those isolated blasts? Heck if I know.

So before I even got to Georgetown I knew I was too late for any color up on the pass, but there was snow alongside the road and on the hills, so that was a different kind of beauty. And the top of the pass is particularly scenic, as you can see to an extent in that photo above. Still worth the trip, especially if the real purpose of the trip was just to go for a ride.

I did decide to go back the way I came and then I was surprised to find that the dreaded Sunday afternoon traffic was absent. Maybe because Monday was Columbus Day and a holiday for some, and/or maybe because it is mud season, where it is too early to ski but too late to camp or do so many other summertime mountain activities. Whatever the reason, I blasted back down into town rarely going slower than 65. Often a good bit faster.

All in all, a nice day on the bike.

Biker Quote for Today

Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass, it’s about learning to ride in the rain.

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Playing in the Dirt

October 9th, 2017
motorcycle along Kebler Pass.

Get off the pavement and have fun!

I hadn’t done any dirt-biking when my friend John offered me an opportunity. You can think of him as the pusher. “Try this, you’ll really like it,” he seems to say. Then you’re hooked. To maintain your habit, you can kiss your bank balance good-bye.

I didn’t get hooked but I got the craving. My V-Strom is a result of this.

John had a couple dirt bikes he and his son, Johnathon, would take up to the Rampart Range, an area in the hills outside of Denver given over to motorized fun on trails through the forest. They invited me along one day.

They were meeting up with other members of their extended family and this was the first time I ever saw how dirt-biking is such a family affair. It wasn’t just their own family. The campground area was packed with families and dirt bikes of all sizes, from pappa’s big bike, to momma’s mid-size bike, right down to baby’s little two-wheeler carrying young’uns who must have only learned to walk last year. And every one of them in full riding gear. Who even knew they made helmets and jackets and boots that small, not to mention motorcycles?

I have to tell you, I really envied these kids. I would have given anything I had to have had parents who took me dirt-biking as a kid. Instead, I had parents who wouldn’t even let me buy a bike with my own money.

So we went riding, and what a blast that was! First of all, being out in the woods and going up and down hills on these narrow trails is a kick. You never get going all that fast, but speed isn’t the point. That said, a bit of speed is the point when you’re going up and there’s a hump in the trail. “Whoops” as they’re called. You come up on that whoop and gun it and you’ll catch some air and that, I’m here to tell you, is fun. Catch several whoops in a row and you’re having serious fun. Did I mention that this can be addicting?

One big difference between riding in the dirt and riding on the street is that on the dirt you’re pretty much guaranteed to dump the bike from time to time. On the street that’s one of the biggest things you seek to avoid ever doing, but on the dirt it’s just part of the game. You don’t usually get hurt and neither does the bike.

Of course I dumped it more than once but I was right back up and on it and off down the trail. Talking about it at the end of the day I felt I had earned my wings when Johnathon told his dad, “Ken did pretty good. He even caught some air a few times.”

Not long afterward John sold the bikes and his trailer so I’ve never been back to the Rampart Range, and that was my only time to ride with them. But I got in some more dirt riding here and there and finally about four years ago got the V-Strom, which I consider a dual-sport bike, though some folks do not. But it has the suspension and it has the tires.

That day in the Rampart Range whetted my appetite as I started realizing how many, many unpaved roads there are through the Colorado mountains that I’ve never been on. I did finally pick the lock on my checkbook.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker if your wife has ever asked you to move the bike so she could see the TV better.

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Running Out Of Gas

October 5th, 2017
motorcycle by highway

Stopping beside the road is not always your desire.

I read an article some while ago that said, “Nobody runs out of gas any more, not with dash lights and other geegaws reminding you to stop and fill up.” Obviously, they weren’t talking about motorcycles.

Most motorcycles don’t even have gas gauges. What they do have is a petcock that you turn to Reserve when the bike starts to sputter. Then you know you had better find a gas station fairly soon. Presumably you know how much fuel your reserve holds, you know how many miles you get to a gallon, and that tells you approximately how far you can get on what you’ve got left.

My Kawasaki Concours does have a gas gauge, but it’s in a minority. And even that is only a half-way measure because it still has reserve and once you flip that petcock the gauge just registers Empty and you’re judging your range as you would on any other bike.

I have run out of gas. More than once, on both the Honda and the Kawi. And you’ll rarely meet a rider who hasn’t also run out, at least on occasion.

Now, riding with the OFMC I have never run out, for the simple reason that all my bikes have bigger gas tanks than any of the other guys’ bikes. They need to gas up long before I do so as long as I do the same I’m golden. And I carry a long plastic surgical tube so that if need be we can siphon gas from my tank to one of theirs, though that has never been necessary.

That fact is largely due to John’s experience on one of our early trips. He and Bill and I were blasting north through Wyoming on I-25, heading for Deadwood, SD, and I was in the lead. I noticed they had dropped back so I slowed down and after awhile I pulled over. The customary thing in this situation is to wait, with the assumption that they’ll be along soon. If they don’t come along soon you head back to see what the hold-up is.

So I sat there a while, too long, and turned back. I hadn’t gone far and there they were, going the direction I was now coming from, so I turned around again. We all pulled off and they filled me in.

John had run out of gas and hadn’t thought to flip to reserve, so he coasted to a stop. Bill pulled over to offer aid. They quickly deduced the problem, but even after John switched to reserve the bike wouldn’t start because the fuel line had been drained dry and he couldn’t get any gas to the carburetor. Most motorcycles don’t have fuel pumps, it’s simply a gravity flow system.

So they tried jump starting. We were on flat land and Bill pushed and pushed and pushed while John tried to get the thing going. Finally, about the time Bill was ready to die from his work-out the bike did start, and after he trudged his way back to his own bike they were finally on their way again.

Ever since then John is a total fanatic about getting gas long before he even reaches reserve. He also instructed his son, Johnathon, in this approach so a few years later, on another trip, when the bike Johnathon was on started sputtering he had no idea what was happening because he had never gone to reserve before.

Me, I hit reserve regularly. The only problem is when you forget to switch the petcock back to the regular tank when you gas up. Then, if you’re not paying attention to how many miles you’ve ridden, when the bike starts to sputter, guess what? You’re out of gas. Trust me on this, I know.

Biker Quote for Today

You’re a biker wannabe if you spend more time shining your bike than riding it.

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Getting Off The Pavement

October 2nd, 2017
motorcycles on gravel

John’s driveway.

Some motorcycles are built to go off the paved road, even off any road at all. Generally, these have knobby tires for getting a good grip and serious suspension that can take big bumps without complaining.

Then there are street bikes. As the name implies, these bikes work best when you keep them on the pavement. And the fact is, many street riders are loathe to take their bikes anywhere near gravel. You can slip and slide and bounce like crazy on that stuff. In addition, you kick up dust and the guy behind you gets to eat it. It’s not like being in a car where you can roll up the windows.

But consider this: According to the U.S. Department of Transportation, there are 1.4 million miles of unpaved roads in the U.S. It stands to reason that there are a lot of really nice places you might like to go on your motorcycle that aren’t paved.

So, if you’re like us in the OFMC, sometimes you go anyway. Our experiences have been mixed in this regard. I’m the only one with anything close to an adventure bike, a 650 V-Strom, and everyone else just has street bikes. I have mentioned in the past (not any time recently) how some of our guys took a dirt road outside of Taos down to a hot spring. There wasn’t much to the spring and the road was very rough, with the result that Jason’s bike snapped an electrical connection and he had to make a quick stop at a dealership to get it fixed.

Another time, in the early days of the OFMC, John proposed that we take the road from Phippsburg, CO, over Ripple Creek Pass to Meeker. He had looked at the map and figured there were about 10 miles of it that were unpaved. We could handle that, couldn’t we?

Well, of course we said we could, only it turned out that there were about 40 miles of gravel, not 10. And it wasn’t smooth gravel, either, as is sometimes the case. No, there was a lot of washboard and we bounced and banged our way over this road for what seemed like a long, long time. John even managed to drop his at-that-time brand new Honda Shadow in some deep sand along the way. My luggage rack was shaken so badly that it broke in two places and I had to stop at a welding shop in Salt Lake City to get it fixed.

Later that same day, Bill turned off on a dirt road by a lake we were passing, which quickly turned deeply rutted, and John dropped the Shadow again.

With that day clear in our memories, it was something of a surprise a few years later when John suggested that he show us the Trough Road, another gravel road that runs from Kremmling, CO, over to State Bridge. He had been on it recently, he assured us, and it was smooth and hard packed. It was in fact every bit as nice as he said it was and a beautiful ride to boot that Bill and I had never been on. We’ve all ridden it at least a couple times since then, and I’ve been on it more than that.

So as much as John, especially, dislikes gravel roads, here’s the supreme irony. The worst stretch of gravel I’ve ever been on is John’s driveway. His driveway is a tenth of a mile of loose, unpacked, large stone. On top of that, it’s about 5 miles of better gravel from the main road to his driveway. More than one OFMC rider has biffed it going to or from his house.

We’ll all agree to ride gravel sometimes, but let’s just say we don’t make John’s house a frequent gathering spot.

Biker Quote for Today

Why bikes are better than women: Your motorcycle doesn’t get mad when you ignore it for a month or so.

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