Passes & Canyons Blog

Riding hasn’t been much of an option lately, which sets me to reminiscing. Like back to when first John, then I, then Bill got our first motorcycles.

Mind you, Bill and John had had scooters when they were in junior high, which gave way to cars in high school. I would have had a scooter, too, but my Mom wouldn’t let me. I’ve told that story more than once. But these were the first real motorcycles any of us ever had.

It happened largely by chance. It’s been so many years that my memory is weak on the particulars but one way or another, John knew some guy who had a 750 Virago he needed to get rid of and he offered it to John at a price that was too good to pass up.

So one day John shows up at my door on this motorcycle. Hop on, let’s go for a ride. What a revelation! One of the first things I noticed was the smells. You weren’t closed up in some box, you were out in the open and if you went past some place with odors you smelled them. This is new.

And then there were the microclimates you are normally totally unaware of. What sticks in my memory was riding at night up north on Lowell and we went down into the dip of a small stream. Quickly down and back up but it had to be nearly 10 degrees cooler down in the dip. Who knew?

And then there was the whole concept of riding. When John and I went riding we didn’t generally have anywhere we actually wanted to go. We’d just pick a destination because that was an excuse to go ride.

So it wasn’t long and I was thinking really hard about getting my own bike. Of course John was all in favor of that. And back then there was a little shop just a few blocks from my house where they sold mostly used bikes and did repairs. John and I went over there and there were three bikes I found interesting. One was a Honda CB750 C, another was a Honda CB750 K, and I can’t remember the third. I was concerned that these were all a bit big for inexperienced me but John assured me that if I bought a small bike now, in just a few months I would be dissatisfied with it and want a bigger one. Better to get the bigger one now. Of course he was right.

So I bought the CB750 C, but John had to ride it to my house because I didn’t have a license or learner’s permit and I had never had any lessons on riding. Every other motorcycle I had ridden previously–many years earlier–had been no bigger than 305cc.

I got my learner’s permit and John and I went riding. No training, just go do it. Apparently I did so successfully. I have little memory of my learning period. Then I had to get my regular license. John had the advantage that he had kept his motorcycle accreditation current on his driver’s license all these years but I had to take the test. And the only bike I had to take the test on was my 750. I’ve told that story before, too, but suffice it to say that, on the second try, I passed the riding test on my big bike. I don’t think many people do that.

Now we were really cooking. But there was one thing missing. Bill watched wistfully as his two buddies went out having fun. It didn’t take long and Bill announced to us that he had bought a brand new Honda Shadow. He was joining the club. Now we were set. The OFMC was coming into being.

Biker Quote for Today

Life is too short to let dreams sit idle. Make every day count.

A lot of motorcyclists insist on keeping their bikes spotless. I am not one of those. I figure that I can spend hours cleaning a bike and then go for a ride and get in some rain and by the time I get home it’s filthy again.

No, I just try to make a point to clean each of my bikes at least once every few years. I’d rather just spend that time riding.

But it had been a few years so I’ve done some cleaning recently. I had Joel give my Concours a complete tune-up while he had the bike to put on a new front tire. After I got it back I figured what the heck, if I’m doing all that I might as well clean it. So I did. Looks nice.

That got me going. Next I decided I ought to clean the Honda. I had to admit, it was pretty dang dirty even by my standards. Plus, Joel was going to be working on it because I had had an issue with the fuel line. I figured he might appreciate working on a cleaner bike.

So I dove in. That was when I noticed the right front fork tube was spectacularly dirty, and the left tube was not. Uh oh, this looks like a failed fork seal. Who knows how long it would have been before I noticed this if I hadn’t started cleaning.

Of course it’s a good thing to notice it. And the timing was good. I just added it to the list of things for Joel to work on. So now it’s the fork seals, the fuel line, and I’m having Joel do a tune-up on this bike, too. Lord knows how long it’s been since it had one.

Considering how filthy this bike was, I’m sure Joel is glad I cleaned it.

And I have this consolation: it took a long time for that bike to get that dirty. It won’t be anywhere near that dirty again any time soon. Yahoo! Let’s go ride.

Biker Quote for Today

Reasons not to date a motorcyclist: One bike is fine, but five bikes are better.

In the early days of the OFMC we were a pretty homogeneous bunch. At first we had two Hondas and a Yamaha but John soon gave his Virago to his son and bought his own Honda Shadow, nearly identical to Bill’s. I, of course, was on my CB750 Custom.

And our clothes were pretty standard: blue jeans and whatever layers on top we could piece together. It was a while before any of us got around to buying an actual motorcycle jacket. When we did they were generic jackets, not trademarked with by motorcycle make.

A lot has changed in 30 years. While I still have the CB, I rarely ride it on the annual bike trip any more, and nobody else even owns a Honda now. We are also fully geared up now, and manufacturer brands show up a lot.

This really became evident when, on our recent trip, we stopped at a rest area in Utah. Others stopped at the rest area included a young couple from California. At one point the guy came directly to me and asked how I liked my V-Strom. He himself has a V-Strom that he got from his dad and he loves it.

We didn’t ask but he volunteered that it was pretty easy to know who rode what bikes. Dennis rides an Indian and he had his jacket off, revealing an Indian t-shirt. Bill rides a Harley and his leather jacket is emblazoned with the Harley logo on the back.

And there I was, with the only semi sportbike wearing a mesh jacket and motorcycle riding pants, not jeans. The kind of gear you’re not likely to see on someone on a Harley or an Indian. Not too hard to add one and one and come up with two.

We’ve all heard the phrase, “Clothes make the man.” I offer this variation: “Clothes make the make.” If that dude is wearing a Harley jacket he’s probably riding that Harley.

Biker Quote for Today

You’re a biker wannabe if you ride a Ducati. (OK, over time I’ve put up a lot of these “wannabe” quotes but have never found an appropriate place for this one. I guess it’s because it is just inappropriate. I love Ducatis. Rode a Monster once and what a bike!)

If I remember correctly, the first time I dropped a motorcycle it wasn’t actually even me doing the dropping. I was still learning how to park a bike properly and this was a lesson. I rode over on my Honda CB750 Custom to where John was watching his son’s soccer game and I just parked in the lot. When I came back it was laying on its side. Wind, I guess? Beats me, I never really knew. But it bent the brake lever and when we tried to bend it back the thing snapped.

There was another time when I didn’t do the dropping, either. I parked my Kawasaki Concours in the only place I could find and I was nervous about the angle. The Connie stands up pretty straight even on level ground and this was not level. I came back and found it on its side. I hate that. Now in a situation like that I would use the center stand.

But what about when YOU actually drop the bike? It usually seems to happen in a parking lot. You’re padding along on the bike to park it and you let it get away from you. Who hasn’t done that? I don’t see any hands raised.

I’m sure I did it at least a couple times in the early days and it was just like I said, in a parking lot. Really glad to have the guys there to help me get it back up.

Then when the Concours was new I had the most unnerving drop I’ve ever had. The Connie is tall and I was still learning to be comfortable on a bike that high. Judy and I had ridden out to Eldorado Springs to hike a bit in the park there. The parking lot was gravel so when we were leaving I told her to wait until I got it turned around–I was not at all confident on this bike in this situation.

So I fired it up and started to try to ride a tight 180 . . . and failed miserably. Down went the bike. Fortunately several guys rushed over to help me get it back up but I was really shaken. My low confidence was down to zero. But we had to get home so with my heart pounding and butterflies in my stomach I got back on and told Judy to get on. And I was never so glad to get home.

And there are other stories, such as the time last year when the OFMC came into Ruidoso and at a sharply angled intersection on a downhill slope I was turning my head far to the left to look for traffic and just put the Suzuki V-Strom down. Or the time I was parking the Kawi at work at the National Park Service and just totally failed as I tried to rock it up onto its center stand (that photo above).

What can you say? Stuff happens, and usually when it does you feel more than a little bit stupid. But we all do it. I’ve helped the other guys pick up their bikes more than once. Heck, Bill and I helped John pick his Shadow up twice in one day. I’m just glad the only time I’ve ever gone down on the bike while in motion we were only going about 5 miles per hour. And that was the fault of that dang dog. And yeah, it took a little courage to get back on the bike after that one, too. But again, we were way out there and had to get home. You’ve just gotta do it.

Biker Quote for Today

There are worse ways to die than on a motorcycle. All the better ways are boring.

I had to take advantage of the great weather we’ve been having in early December so I headed out Friday to put some miles on my Honda CB750 Custom. Not sure where to go but following my nose I decided to follow Smoky Hill Road out as far as it goes–and find out where that is.

Smoky Hill goes a long way. I know I’d been out that way before but at one point I got to where I was pretty sure I had gone east on some other road and so staying on Smoky Hill meant something new. Well, a short while later it ended at the entrance to some big country club housing development. So I wandered on through and found my way out the other side, onto County Line Road. What do you know.

I turned east on County Line and it was just a short distance to the eastern edge of the development, and that was also the eastern edge of development in this area. On east it is all prairie. See the photo above.

That eastern boundary is Delbert Road. I was interested in going south but was just a bit more interested to take it north and see where it went. So I turned north. But it didn’t go far before it became a dirt road and I stopped. I was on the Honda, and the Honda can go just about anywhere as long as it’s not too extreme but this road looked dicey.

Plus, this all looked familiar. I was convinced I had been here before, though having arrived from a different direction. Doing a search on this blog I found this post from January 2016 that confirmed it.

But here’s the thing: when I wrote that post nearly two years ago, I was coming north and ended up going west. That means I’ve never been further east on County Line Road than right there. That’s some place new to go sometime soon.

This time, however, I headed south on Delbert Road, unknowingly reversing my path from last January. I was looking for a paved road headed west so I turned onto Buckboard Road but that soon turned to dirt. No matter, the Honda can take this. I then wound around and found myself right back where I had been, having just navigated a large circle. The area is full of ranch-style homes with lots of acreage–horse properties, I presumed.

Having looped back I ended up going back out the way I’d come in and continued south on Delbert. This brought me to East Parker Road and I headed west to CO 83 and from there on home.

So yeah, technically I was revisiting ground I had been over before but you know what they say about a road looking totally different when you go the other direction. Plus, there has been a lot of development out there in just two years. And who knows, maybe the next time I try following Smoky Hill Road to its end it will keep on going. Heck, five years from now I’d bet on it.

Biker Quote for Today

Whether you are sad, lost, lonely, or broken, there is always a fix . . . motorcycle.

I’ve always been a big proponent of rider training and that led to an offer for me to take another course at no charge. The assumed quid pro quo was that I would then write about it. Well, of course I would, I write about just about everything in my life that involves motorcycles.

So on Friday I went up to Thornton to BLACK B.A.G. for the ERC, or perhaps it is now considered the BRC2. I’m not totally clear on this but I believe the Motorcycle Safety Foundation’s old Experienced Rider Course has been totally revised and what had been the ERC is now considered the Beginning Rider Course 2. Doesn’t matter.

There were three in my class: me, Bob, and Will. Bob rode dirt bikes as a kid but hadn’t ridden anything after about age 25 until in November he bought a Kawasaki KLR 650. He took the BRC then and was back now for the ERC/BRC2. Will is a National Guardsman who needed rider training certification in order to be allowed to ride his V-Max on base.

The instructor is also Bob. And Bob is a good instructor. He inserts enough humor to keep things fun and he has developed effective techniques for eliciting participation from the students. Participation requires attention and thinking, and those enhance learning.

Knowing I was going to be doing tight maneuvers and, who knows, might even drop the bike at some point, it was easy for me to decide which bike to take. Both the Concours and V-Strom are tall bikes with big gas tanks up high. I rode my CB750 because it is lower and has a much lower center of gravity.

What I didn’t think about until I got there was that this was sort of a homecoming. I lived up on the north side of town, in unincorporated Adams County,for 17 years before moving to southeast Denver 21 years ago. When I bought my first motorcycle ever, my 1980 Honda CB750 Custom, this was where I lived. I learned to ride on that bike and when it came time to get my motorcycle accreditation on my drivers license I went to the Motor Vehicle office in this very shopping center where BLACK B.A.G. now operates. I took, and passed (on my second try), the riding skills test on this very motorcycle that I was there on for training on Friday. This is where it all started.

There’s no question I’m a much better rider now that way back then. A lot of that is simply experience, but there’s a good bit of it that is due to all the rider training courses I’ve taken over the years. We talked, for instance, about making U-turns on narrow roads. My buddies in the OFMC universally do Y-turns, jockeying back and forth, while I slip the clutch, ride the rear brake, and easily ride the U-turn at walking speed. I learned that in these classes.

So what did I get out of this latest one? I’ll get into that in my next post.

Biker Quote for Today

Some take drugs, some drink bottles. I solve my problems by twisting throttles.

Big, 800-pound bagger motorcycles are very popular, at least in the U.S., but there’s one place you’ll never see them: at the Department of Motor Vehicles on the license testing range.

When you’re getting your motorcycle accreditation you have to pass the written test and also pass a driving test, just like with a car. The driving portion for a bike takes place out in the parking lot, where they set up cones and have you ride through the course demonstrating your competence. On a scooter, or a small bike, such as a 250cc Honda Rebel, it’s easy. For a beginning rider to maneuver their full-size bike around the course, the likelihood of success is minute.

I didn’t know this when I bought my first bike. But I learned.

I had ridden motorcycles whenever I had the opportunity for many years, but it was only once I bought my first bike, a 1980 Honda CB750 Custom, that I got licensed. My friends told me then that it would be good to get a small bike to take the test but I didn’t have any idea where to get that small bike so off I went on my 750.

Now, a 750cc bike is only considered a mid-size bike anymore, though it was a big bike in 1980, and it still weighs about 500 pounds. I suspect the licensing examiner was surprised to see what I rode in on but no matter, let’s go do the test.

The first part of the course demonstrates handling control. You have to weave around cones in a slalom pattern at slow speed. Then there was a right turn, and another right turn, which set you up to come into a much tighter box where you have to do a 180-degree turn.

I did not make it through all the cones and when I came around for the 180 I had not understood the directions properly. I thought the examiner told me to stay outside the lines, when in fact I was supposed to stay inside them. I was successful in staying outside. You then start out from a spot where you accelerate forward and then brake and swerve sharply as if you were avoiding an obstacle. That part was easy.

Of course I failed the test. And I was very surprised when she told me I utterly failed to make the U-turn within the lines. Ooooh. Within! I get it now.

Second Try

Now that I knew what the test consisted of I practiced. I showed up again a few days later, not at all confident I would succeed, but willing to take a shot at it. With no training I instinctively figured out that to weave through the cones I had to use a technique called trail-braking, where you keep the engine revved for stability while working the rear brake to move forward at about walking speed. To my relief, I got through the cones just fine.

Heading into the U-turn I now knew I needed to stay inside the lines and, using trail-braking again, I successfully executed the turn. Coming out of it, however, the lean was too great and the bike laid over on its side. It didn’t actually go all the way down; it ended up resting half-way up on the foot peg. I looked at the examiner and she said she couldn’t help me but if I got the bike back up I could keep going with the test.

I raised the bike and continued and everything else went fine. She passed me. Yahoo!

I have since learned that one of the major benefits of taking a Motorcycle Safety Foundation riding course is that you learn on small bikes and at the end of the course you do the riding portion of the test. If you pass, all you have to do to get your license is go to Motor Vehicle, pass the written portion, and pay your fee. Of course you also get some training in the process, which is a very good thing.

Had I known all this that’s probably what I would have done. I didn’t, though, so now I take pride in being able to say I passed the test on my real, full-sized highway bike. And I love the looks of amazement I get when I say that.

Biker Quote for Today

Myth: You only live once. Fact: You die only once, you live every day.

I got out for three quick rides on Tuesday last week just to run the bikes a bit but on Wednesday the weather was very nice so I went out again on the Honda for a real ride. With no destination or route in mind–as usual–I headed west on Belleview to University and turned south. By this point I was thinking I would follow University as it curves to the east and becomes Lincoln Avenue, turning off at the road heading down to Daniels Park. I hadn’t been to Daniels Park in many years and it just seemed like it was due.

Now, just to date myself, I’ve been in Denver long enough to remember back when once you got south of County Line Road on University (C-470 didn’t exist back then) the road turned to gravel and there was nothing out there but grazing land. It’s all part of Highlands Ranch now, and it’s a city.

So Highlands Ranch had plenty of signs telling you this park is this way, that park is that way, and I figured they would have a sign pointing the way to Daniels Park but either they didn’t or I missed it. Back in the day it was easy: you just cruised along until you came to the solitary road going south, with a sign for the park. But I didn’t know what that road had become–it was probably something like County Road whatever back then–so I had no idea where to turn.

No problem. I continued on to where I hit I-25 and took it south to the Castle Pines exit and went west. I knew that ran into Daniels Park and I figured I would then take the road north and find out where it comes out along the road I had just been on. I was also sure it was all paved by now. I thought it was the last time I was out there.

So I got to the main parking lot and was very interested to see that the pavement stopped there. Fortunately, although I was not on the V-Strom, I was on the Honda and the Honda is OK on gravel. It doesn’t necessarily love gravel the way the V-Strom does, but it definitely doesn’t hate gravel the way the Concours does. You know, it’s an old CB750, a UJM, and those were do-anything bikes. I knew it would be OK.

It turned out the road was actually quite good. They’ve obviously put plenty of mag chloride on it so there was only the occasional patch of loose gravel.

So the road headed north as I knew it would, until it hit a T intersection marked Grig’s Road. To the right the road was paved and headed toward some houses. To the left it was gravel and open land, so I went left.

At some point this did turn into Daniels Park Road–I guess it has both names along here–and it was headed north again. But before long all the new roads totally obscured whatever the old road used to be. I ended up connecting with McArthur Ranch Road at another T intersection and this time I went right. That took me to Quebec, which I took north and eventually got to University.

Looking at the map I see that if I had jogged west a short run on McArthur Ranch Road I would have hit Wildcat Reserve Parkway and that looks like it would have taken me up to where the old Daniels Park Road must have turned off. But it’s all different now. There are houses and malls and churches and schools as far as you can see. It’s all just city. And even the roads that used to be don’t exist any more.

So it was a fun exploration, and a great day to be out on the bike. And then the next day it was cold and snowy. I want more days like that one.

Biker Quote for Today

Travelling in a car is like watching a film. Riding a motorcycle is like starring in it.