Passes & Canyons Blog

John and Bill on their Honda Shadows (years later).

It’s a whole lot easier these days to get a good handle on the places you intend to head to and the roads you’ll be on getting there than it was in the early days of the OFMC. Getting onto some dicey roads on a brand new bike is a good way to get your first scratches right away. This is a lesson John learned one year.

When the OFMC first got going, John bought a used Yamaha Virago, I bought a used Honda CB750 Custom, and Bill bought a brand new Honda Shadow. After we’d been riding about five years John decided to upgrade and he bought a new Shadow almost exactly like Bill’s, except newer. These were the bikes we set out on in 1994.

We headed toward Kremmling, where John’s Mom was living, and stopped to pay her a visit. We left town continuing northwest on US 40. Just a little further up the road we turned off US 40 onto CO134 over Gore Pass to Toponas. Nice ride. First time I’d ever been over that road.

From Toponas CO131 heads back up to US 40 but John had looked at the map and was interested in Routt County 8, which goes over Ripple Creek Pass from Yampa to Meeker. He had scoped it out and figured out (or so he thought) that it was paved all except for about 10 miles of gravel. Were we willing to do that bit of gravel? Back in those days these guys were more adventurous and we said yes; later on they concluded they did not wish to do gravel at all. I’m still willing, except on my Concours but I’ve always been more adventurous than them.

John was wrong. This road was 40 miles of gravel, much of it washboard and much of it deep with sand. It was probably the hardest riding any of us has ever done. And John managed to put his brand new bike down for the very first time.

John was leading and I was right behind. At one point he decided to stop and take a break and pulled off to the side of the road. Unfortunately for him, right at this point the side of the road was deep sand. I braked cautiously as I saw him go down. Fortunately there were the two of to help him get that bike up.

Ripple Creek Pass, by the way, is a beautiful road if you want to do it in a car or on a bike that is equipped for that kind of thing. I highly recommend it.

But that business of so much serious washboard had another impact. I noticed later that day that a couple of the welds on the sissy bar on my Honda had vibrated so hard that they broke. My sissy bar, with most of my stuff strapped onto it, was dangling precariously. But we stopped in Vernal, Utah, that night and then went on to Salt Lake City the next day and spent a couple days there. While there I went to a welding shop and got it fixed. So not a big deal. But that’s how bad the washboard was.

Heading from Vernal to Salt Lake the next day Bill was in the lead as we came alongside Strawberry Reservoir, near Duchesne. He saw a dirt road running down to the water and decided he wanted to check it out. John followed and I was right behind John.

It turned out the road was deeply rutted from erosion. Bill had no problem but John got himself in a fix and was about to lose it. He called out to me, “Ken, come help me! Quick!” I wanted to help him but I was in the same rough ground he was in and before I could do anything to help him I had to find a place to stop and park my own bike. By the time I did that he was down, his brand new bike laying on the ground.

As I recall, Bill came back on foot and helped us get John’s bike back upright, and we then rode on down the rest of the way to the water. We hung out for awhile and then managed to get back up to the highway uneventfully.

Now fortunately, neither of these two spills did any real damage to the bike, just a few cosmetic scratches and such. But it was no longer the brand new bike he had started out on just the day before.

We got more cautious about the roads we took after that.

Biker Quote for Today

It’s not the falling off that hurts, it’s the landing.

Ripple Creek Pass is beautiful but not the kind of road you want to take a highway bike on, unless you’re very adventurous.

In the early days of the OFMC we were still exploring the roads around Colorado. Nowadays we’ve been pretty much everywhere so it’s rare to find ourselves on new roads, although it does still happen on occasion.

One early experience we had, that turned out to be something we did not expect, was Ripple Creek Pass.

John and Bill and I were headed to Utah on our bikes. Having been that way so often before, John, our master of maps, was looking for a route we hadn’t been on. He found it in Ripple Creek Pass.

Colorado 131 comes down from Steamboat Springs to hit I-70 at Wolcott. About midway on that route, at the small town of Yampa, the Flat Tops Trail Scenic Byway heads west, crossing over Dunckley Pass and Ripple Creek Pass as it skirts the Flat Tops Wilderness. At its western terminus, 65 miles away, the road comes out to Meeker, along CO 13.

“Let’s take this road,” John said. “There’s about 10 miles of gravel but it shouldn’t be too bad, and the country we’ll be going through should be spectacular.”

Bill and I were game, so off we went.

Heading out of Yampa the road was good, smooth gravel, the kind you can ride a street bike on all day with no problem. We wound over some hills and through some ranching valleys, enjoying the high plains beauty of western Colorado.

Then the road started climbing, and it also started getting rougher. Washboard became the norm, not the exception. This was the kind of surface that dual-sport motorcycles are made for, but not street bikes. No big deal; we can handle 10 miles. Except, hadn’t we already gone almost 10 miles? That pavement was going to look good.

The further we rode, the more civilization gave way to nature. Pine forest and mountainsides replaced grassy valleys, and we continued to climb. The washboard continued, the miles passed by, and the fillings in our teeth were in danger of being shaken loose. We were well past any 10 miles by now.

Up over Dunckley Pass we rode and down the other side. The origin of the name Flat Tops Wilderness was evident in those un-pointy mountains to the south of us. Heading up Ripple Creek Pass, this was nature at its grandest but by now our minds were not so much on the scenery as on the seemingly endless miles of rough gravel. Our master of maps had read this one wrong.

Along the way John went down on his brand new Honda Shadow. He was leading and decided to pull over and ran into deep sand. That’s why it’s good to have buddies along when you’re riding this sort of road.

Over Ripple Creek Pass we fared and down to Buford, where the long-awaited pavement finally showed its face. We had ridden fully 50 miles on gravel that was now smooth, now wretched. Our faith in John’s map-reading skills was tested sorely. But for now, let’s just burn up some miles.
And don’t go proposing any unpaved roads again anytime soon.

Biker Quote for Today

We know you’re a poser if you don’t own a rain suit.