Passes & Canyons Blog

Our route.

I did a ride a couple weeks ago with the RMMRC and while none of the roads were new to me, the particular sequence was and it was an interesting route. I had known the gist of the ride beforehand but when I tried to figure out what Gray, the leader, had in mind I was way off. That map above shows the route but it can’t zoom to show you the detail.

We met first at the Full House Sports Bar and Grill for breakfast, then rode out to Golden, where we picked up a few more riders. Then we headed north on CO 93 to where we turned up Coal Creek Canyon, CO 72.

It was a great day to ride, with the weather cool enough in the morning that I wore my sweatshirt under my mesh jacket and was chilly. But with the heat we’ve been having, it was a welcome chilliness. Gaining elevation heading up Coal Creek it got even cooler and it did not get warmer as the day progressed.

We reached the Peak-to-Peak just south of Nederland and turned south. This in itself was interesting because almost any time I go up Coal Creek Canyon I turn north toward Nederland. We took the Peak-to-Peak down to Golden Gate Canyon and turned down that road.

Here’s where it gets interesting. We didn’t take Golden Gate all the way back down to CO93, we made the sharp left turn to go up Robinson Hill Road (CR69) and up into that area, where we met Douglas Mountain Drive (CR60), which took us down the really steep road where we again met the Peak-to-Peak, this time south of Black Hawk. This is a great road and if you haven’t been on it you owe it to yourself to ride it. Also, of note, at the top of the steep downhill there is a sign “Pavement Ends” and it used to do that. Since last year, however, since I was on it last, they’ve done some paving so the only portion that is not completely paved are a couple tights corners. Who knows why they didn’t pave those. But if you don’t like riding off the pavement, have no fear–this is a good road for a street bike.

We jogged left the very short distance to where old US 6 peels off from the Peak-to-Peak and heads up toward Idaho Springs. Where the road meets I-70 we took the old US 40 route up alongside I-70, which itself is a really nice climb. Over the top of Floyd Hill and down to the overpass across the slab onto CR65, which winds its way around to Bergen Park. There we jumped on Evergreen Parkway briefly, toward I-70, and turned down Kerr Gulch Road (CR23).

That brought us out just outside of Kittredge and we turned left down Bear Creek Canyon to Morrison. A really nice ride. And, by the way, it did finally get warm, making that cool morning all the more appreciated.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker if you dream of owning a Harley dealership.

This was our ultimate destination, the point where the Mississippi River flows out of Lake Itasca and begins its journey to the Gulf of Mexico.

I’ve spoken a lot in my narrative of the RMMRC‘s Great River Road ride about the conflicting preferences of different riders. Some of our guys want to just get out there and burn up the miles. They don’t want to stop until it’s time for gas.

Others of us, and I am definitely in this group, prefer to take a more relaxed approach, with more frequent stops just to stretch our legs, rest our butts, and maybe stop to spend some time at a few points of interest.

The answer here seems obvious to me: we need to break into two groups so everyone can ride the sort of ride they prefer.

We had originally planned to do this ride in two groups simply because there were going to be enough of us it made sense not to ride in one large pack. But then as the departure date drew near several people had cause to drop out, so the morning of the ride the decision was made to go as one group.

I submit that even if we were looking at one group of three and another of five, that is what we should have done. And on any future multi-day ride I do with the RMMRC I will strongly argue for just that.

As it was, on this ride there were three of us who made our desires known to stop more frequently. Probably we should have just informed the others that we were going to be our own separate group and just do it. But we hadn’t really had the discussions and thought it through that far.

Yes, at one point Bob replied to our calls for a shorter leg by saying that anyone who wanted to peel off from the group at any time is free to do so, and I did. But I really think that’s a bit disingenuous. One aspect of riding in a group is the feeling of safety in numbers. If you break down, you have someone there to help you out. If one person just takes off on their own and then that person has problems, there’s no one to assist.

Now, in my case, that was not an issue. I’m accustomed to riding alone. I like riding alone, and I feel that I’m prepared to deal with issues if they arise. But not everyone is like me. Some people who might wish to have a different ride could easily be reluctant to venture out all by themselves.

Two groups makes sense to me. Or, I’ve thought that maybe I ought to set up a ride that caters to my style of riding. Rather than blast across eastern Colorado and all of Kansas and Missouri in just two days, do it in three. A number of years ago I rode Friggs’s bike out to St. Louis for him and I know I took at least three days, maybe four. I had a fun, relaxing ride. I’ve ridden several 500-mile days and fun and relaxing are two adjectives I would not use to describe them. And if it’s not fun, why are you doing it?

And yes, if I do set up this sort of ride I’ll make a point of suggesting to anyone who is more in the Iron Butt mindset that they should go ahead, we’ll see them at the end of the day.

Biker Quote for Today

Bikers are the happiest people when they have their boots on the pegs, their ass in the seat, and nothing but the rumble of pipes in their ears.

A typical OFMC evening after a day’s ride.

The one participant on this RMMRC Great River Road ride who I have not mentioned previously was Phil, Tom’s cousin from Ohio who rode out and met us in St. Charles, Missouri, and rode with us a few days. The reason I bring him up now is that at one point he spoke about how a group he rides with back home have a rule that if you’re going on a group ride you ride with the group, you eat with the group, and you stay at the group hotel.

I’m not normally the sort who takes to demands of conformity like that but I see their point. And I see it a lot more clearly now after this ride.

The part about riding with the group is the one place where I diverge. This ride was set up to be a ride-your-own-ride kind of thing, with people going their own ways as long as you know where to end up at the end of the day. In reality only a couple of us did that at all but I like doing it that way.

As for lodging and eating, I get it a lot more. Because I was slow in signing up for this ride I was stuck trying to find someone to room with. I ended up tying in with Tom for most of the trip but for the nights when Phil would be with us I ended up rooming with Charley. Not a problem.

Except that Tom, originally not having a roommate, had opted to make his reservations at different motels that were less expensive than the group motel. With me to split the cost it would not have made a lot of difference but alone it would have amounted to some significant cash.

The result of this, though, was that we’d ride all day and then they’d go to their motel and we’d go to ours. And they usually were not particularly close to each other. So we frequently did not eat dinner with those guys.

What that meant was that we ended up missing out on any end-of-day camaraderie that is a big part of doing a group ride.

And then the last night out, in McCook, Nebraska, we did have the same hotel because the one the group had intended on staying at was being remodeled and they had had to change their plans. So what happened?

Well, first, we couldn’t agree on where to eat. Tom and I aren’t keen on chain places if there are one-off local places available. And fast food is OK for lunch but not dinner. And there was a nice local place not far but it was hard to persuade the others to go there rather than the Wendy’s across the street. And once they agreed another voice spoke up saying Wendy’s was his destination. So they all went there while Tom and I went elsewhere.

We all got back to the motel at the same time but what happened? Everyone just went to their rooms and that was that. No hanging out in someone’s room, in the lobby, or at a nearby bar. Just good-night.

What I’m accustomed to with the OFMC is that even if we split up for dinner we still get together afterward and have some beers. Out by the pool, in someone’s room, in the parking lot–somewhere.

Is this what we had been missing all those nights? Nothing? Except for dinner, of course.

So yeah, I get it with Phil’s group saying the group stays together. I can see I’m going to need to have some conversations with some people before I go on another long ride with the RMMRC. Surely there are at least some other guys who are in tune with my inclinations.

Biker Quote for Today

Why motorcycles are better than women: You can ride a motorcycle as long as you want and it won’t get sore.

A shot of the group at the house on the lake, courtesy of Dave Limebrook.

The penultimate day on this Great River Road ride we were just planning to head south out of Yankton, South Dakota, and then zig-zag our way across Nebraska to McCook. The skies had other plans, however.

We got up and there was no question one heck of a storm was passing by to the south of us. A quick check of the weather apps confirmed that we did not want to go into that. So we ran about five miles south to get to NE 12 and then turned west. That turned out to be serendipity. The country we went through was really, really pretty and then we reached the Missouri River and it was hilly and gorgeous in all its spring green. We came to the town of Niobrara.

Here we turned south and the time and distance put us behind the storm now–mostly. The terrain soon became the flatter, less beautiful sort that you typically think of when you think of Nebraska.

Starting off that morning it had been pretty cool and was stormy so I had put on my rain pants. Per our arrangement the day before I rode in the two spot and when I felt it was time for a stop I pulled ahead and pulled over. By now I was too hot so I took the rain pants off. We headed out and soon we were headed right into rain. Now I was faced with the age-old choice of stopping to put my rain gear back on or trying to ride through it. I chose the latter and it turned out to be the right choice, though there were a couple points where it looked like the wrong choice for just a few minutes. Yes I got a bit wet but not enough to matter.

We stopped for lunch south of Grand Island and talked about getting gas there and riding 160 miles non-stop to McCook, or stopping for gas along the way and thus having a break. Tim, Mike, and I spoke in favor of the break. But others said get gas here and just go. I pushed back–there were three of us who specifically said we did not want to do that long ride. Bob said anyone who wants to break off from the group at any time can do so. Very true.

So I did. At Minden I wanted to check out Pioneer Village. Pioneer Village is a sprawling museum spread across about 23 buildings with a vast collection of cars, farm equipment, and lots more. I had never been there but I’d known about it most of my life. I had no plans to go in–you’ll want to spend an entire day there–but I wanted to see about days and hours of operation, admission fee, and get an idea of the place. I was also hot and wanted to shed layers, I was drowsy, and I had a buggy visor I wanted to clean. Plus, I just wanted to get off the bike.

This was totally a good decision. I spoke with a woman at the ticket booth who seemed thrilled to have someone to talk to and who told me all kinds of interesting things about the museum’s history. And then I left rested and refreshed and ready to ride the rest of the way to McCook.

I did have one bit of adventure on this last leg. As is not uncommon in Nebraska I found myself behind a line of cars following a couple huge pieces of farm equipment that really put the “wide” in wide-load. Cars coming the other direction were pulling off to let them pass. But I was on a motorcycle; I could easily pass them with room to spare.

So I took off. I quickly passed the cars and then as I was going past the machinery a pick-up that had pulled onto the shoulder decided to get back on the highway. Um, dude, do you not see me? Yes what I’m doing is a bit bogus but I am doing it. Can’t you just wait another 15 seconds for me to get past? He did stop and let me go by.

When I reached McCook the other guys had only just gotten checked in and were heading to their rooms. And Tom said it was a mistake not to take a break. They were overheated and fagged out. So my rest stop had been just enough to save me from twiddling my thumbs at the destination and didn’t cost me one minute of useful time. That’s what I keep saying: what does it matter if we get somewhere half an hour or an hour later? We don’t exactly have appointments to keep. But I also know getting seven guys rolling again takes longer than one person taking off again.

Biker Quote for Today

More headroom than any car in any class.

Stopped for construction in South Dakota–and it was hot! Things are a bit flat here, can you tell?

Having been to the headwaters of the Mississippi and then spent the night in Detroit Lakes, our RMMRC group of Great River Road riders were now turning toward home. We had a lot of miles to cover in just a few days.

Before I go any further I want to make a point to applaud the guys who organized and were leading this ride. Without them it wouldn’t have happened and it was indeed well planned and we all had a great time. Thanks guys.

That said, the main leaders, Bob and Dave, are both Iron Butt guys and for some of us that style of riding just simply is not fun. We had grumbled a little bit up to this point but now I decided we needed to have a talk. At breakfast I suggested to Bob (Dave, you may recall, was no longer with us due to a stator problem) that we stop more often than every 150-180 miles. What I didn’t know before this was that Bob was not in a particularly good mood because of some disagreement he had had that morning with the motel people. He did not seem pleased to have me bring this up.

But I told him that especially on the first leg of the day it would be good to stop sooner because, for one, people drink coffee with breakfast and coffee is like beer, you don’t buy it, you rent it. You need to stop and pee. Roy was there and he chimed in that if we stop too often we’ll never get anywhere. I understand Roy’s thinking. He rides sweep and every group has one or two guys who are always the last to be ready to roll. And Roy is the one who’s always nudging that person along because as sweep he can’t leave until they do. But I persisted.

Then I went out to the bikes and Mike was there. I knew Mike backed me on this, and I told him I had spoken to Bob and it would probably be a good thing if he did, too. He said he would and went in. A little later he came back out telling me he had spoken to Bob and Bob did not receive it well. But our point was made. And Tim was in agreement with us as well.

With everyone out at the bikes we discussed it some more. We considered making a planned stop at a town about 60 miles down the way, but finally I just said I would ride in the number two spot and when I felt it was time for a stop I would pull into the lead and pull over. Bob was not in a good mood and didn’t want to deal with it all so Charley agreed he would lead. Great, let’s roll.

Our route was down US 59 then over to Waterton, South Dakota, and then US 81 down to Yankton, our stop for the night. After awhile I was congratulating Charley to myself for having actually heard what I was saying about letting me take the lead on stopping. Then he pulled into a gas station, thinking maybe he ought to. All the pumps were busy, with people waiting, so I was reluctant to stop for a pee break without getting gas so I motioned him to keep going. Awhile later I did think the time was right so as we came to a town I pulled ahead and stopped at a station. Mike said he was definitely ready for a stop because he was drowsing off.

We were planning on stopping at Waterton for lunch and now it was my turn to start drowsing. I did my usual snapping of my head to jolt myself awake, and also closing my eyes all but a hair but then I had an instant when it seemed like—for who knows, half a second?—I went to sleep. I came back with a start and man was I awake! I knew what had happened and it scared me awake. It was just eight miles then to Waterton so I stayed awake.

Again, that’s why I really like riding alone. It’s dangerous to ride in that state and when I’m by myself I’ll just stop.

Continuing south to Yankton we went through Madison, SD, and this is where some fierce winds we heard about a few days ago had hit. I have never in my life seen so many broken and totally uprooted trees, plus demolished and damaged buildings. We went past more than a few windrows where maybe one tree in ten was not blown down or broken off. We stopped for gas and I heard the clerk telling someone she nearly had her husband blown away but he did manage to make it to the house. Basically it had been like a tornado minus the tornado–just powerful, powerful winds.

The rest of the ride to Yankton was uneventful. And after a few days of cool we were definitely back in the heat–a lot of heat.

Biker Quote for Today

Nothing is scarier than being trapped in a cage.

Back in Cass Lake on a motorcycle again after all these years.

At my request the RMMRC group riding the Great River Road made a stop on the outskirts of Cass Lake, Minnesota, so I could get a picture.

“What is the significance of this to you?” Tom asked.

Oh, a lot. This is where it all began.

When I was a teenager my family came up to Cass Lake every summer on vacation, to Camp Unistar out on Star Island in the middle of Cass Lake. (Both the lake and the town are called Cass Lake.) As regulars we got to know the folks running the camp and it was common for the kids of regulars to work as low-paid help in the summers. Spend the whole summer at camp and get paid for it? Sign me up.

I got my turn the summer between my junior and senior years in high school, and when I got there I found that Terry, my bunk-mate for the summer, had come up from his home in Minneapolis on his brand new Honda 305 Scrambler. Totally cool.

What was even cooler is that he hung the bike’s key on a nail in our quarters and told me any time I wanted to ride the bike to just go ahead. Of course, we were out on the island, so we only got in to the mainland now and then, and that was usually on work errands, like going to the grocery store.

Now, I actually had ridden a motorcycle one time previously. Back in those days you could rent a Honda 90 from 7-Eleven for three dollars an hour. That was big money for me so I only did it one time, when one of my friends prodded me to go ahead and pony up the big bucks.

So here I was with a summer to ride for free anytime I wanted (and could get away to do so). Can you say Yahoo!?

And I did. The bike was very torquey and I had no experience driving so I did my best to manage the clutch and throttle but ended up doing any number of wheelies totally without intent. Not a problem, I knew I’d figure it out eventually.

There’s not much of anywhere to go around Cass Lake but I’d just get on the bike and go ride–I didn’t care where. And then it all came to a screeching halt.

One week a family we knew, from Bismarck, North Dakota, came to camp with their two gorgeous daughters, Randi and Sheri. And one day I was taking the boat in to the marina to go pick up a few things at the grocery store. Randi and Sheri asked if they could ride along and I told them sure, and I’ll even take you for rides on Terry’s motorcycle. Of course they were up for that.

As I was getting ready to go I mentioned to Terry that I was going to town and the girls were going along. To my surprise, and to this day I’m not sure why, Terry told me not to take the girls riding. I said OK and left.

So we got to the marina and I fired up the bike and Randi got on and we rode into town. We got the groceries (I don’t remember what but it couldn’t have been much, right?) and went back to the bike. We got on, I fired it up, and just then some local kids came along and called out “Look at the girl on the motorcycle!” She was a beauty and I was understandably pleased to be seen with her on this motorcycle. And then, totally unintentionally, I wheelied away from the curb with her hanging on tightly. Was I a cool dude or what!

We went back to the marina and I left Randi with the groceries and Sheri and I took off on the bike. We rode out of town but there was nothing out there so we just went a little ways and turned around. Then back to the boat and back to camp.

On the way I told the girls that if Terry asked if I took them for rides to say no, and they agreed they would. But when we got back Terry asked me and I’ve always hated lying so I told him yes, I had. He didn’t say a word, but that key was never on that nail ever again and I never rode that motorcycle again.

But for me, that was the beginning. And now here I was on a motorcycle at Cass Lake and I had to stop and get the picture. That, Tom, is the significance.

Biker Quote for Today

She told me to whisper something sexy in her ear, so I whispered “BRAAAPP.”

One of the river crossings. You can tell the Mississippi is getting a lot narrower at this point.

Day 4 of this ride along the Great River Road and we headed north out of Davenport, Iowa, to I-80, which we jumped on just long enough to reach the Mississippi at LeClaire. From there US 67 follows the west bank of the river.

If I was doing this trip with Judy in the car I would seriously consider skipping the more southern portion of this ride and just blasting out to LeClaire and heading north from there. This was where the river road started getting really consistently pretty. I would hate to miss the bluffs, the town of Grafton, and Pere Marquette State Park, just north of Alton, Illinois. But if you were strapped for time this would be a good starting point. Either way, LeClaire is a very attractive little town hugging the river, and would be worth a stop.

Of course, this is the RMMRC, and we don’t do stops. So we ran right on through.

I have to say here, this trip was originally conceived of as something where we would not ride together, where everyone would pick their agenda for the day with the only certainty that we would all end up in the same place that evening. For the most part that didn’t happen. For those like me who wanted a different agenda, we really have no one but ourselves to blame. I did do that a few times but not this day, which I regret because there were stretches later on where I really wanted to go a different route but didn’t. Tim did go off on his own pretty much this entire day but I’m not sure he’s glad he did. More on that later.

So US 67 pretty much sticks to the river, although for much of the time it drifts away from the shore, only offering you views of the water occasionally. It terminated and we picked us US 52, which took us across the river into Illinois and we turned north on IL 84. Again, after awhile alongside the river the road turned more inland and there wasn’t much to see. We connected to US 20 and took it through Galena and then on into Dubuque, back on the Iowa side.

I’ve been to Dubuque a few times and was looking forward perhaps to stopping for lunch and spending some time there. But that was apparently not the plan, so after some missed turns and confusion we continued on out of town on IA 3, headed northwest. Now the river was not even close by but we were passing through some really pretty countryside. We hadn’t stopped in a long time so as we rode along a ridge line I was pleased to see a scenic viewpoint and desperately hoped Dave, who was leading, would stop. He didn’t. Man, I really needed to get off that bike for a bit!

We got back on US 52 and turned north, eventually rejoining the river at last. Finally we stopped in Gutenberg for lunch.

At that point we learned that Dave’s bike was not running well. His indicators were telling him the battery was not charging. It was decided that after lunch he and Charley would ride on straight to La Crosse, Wisconsin, where there was a battery shop that had just the battery his bike needed. We were all hoping that was all it would take. At lunch the first grumbling began to be voiced from those of us who are not inclined to the Iron Butt style of riding. It would continue to percolate.

From Gutenberg we followed what is actually called the Great River Road north to Marquette. The Great River Road continues, on up to Lansing, at which point we crossed into Wisconsin and picked up WI 35. This runs right along the river but we came to a construction zone. Bob was leading now and he rode right up to the blockade and asked the guys working if we could just scoot past and keep going. They said no, there were others areas where the road was unpassable, but if we took the marked detour but turned left at County Road K we could skip much of the detour and get back to the river much quicker. So we did, and that was actually kind of a fun ride through the hills.

After that it wasn’t far to La Crosse, where we found Dave and Charley at the battery shop, getting a charge put in Dave’s new battery. It was at this point that I made my mistake in not following my own lead. It was going to be another hour and a half till the battery was charged enough and I should have taken off. I would have gone on to Winona and then crossed to the other side and ridden along the east bank of the river pretty much all the way up to Red Wing, which was our destination for the night. But I didn’t.

So when we left we stuck to US 61 all the way, on the west bank. All along the way I could see the road on the east bank and it sure looked like the much prettier, less busy highway. I kept thinking we would cross the river and take that road but we never did.

What did happen was we got into Lake City and a construction zone. Along the way we lost half the group so Bob pulled over to wait. They didn’t show up so Bob went back to look for them. He didn’t find them so we rode on, not hurrying. We pulled over at one point to get gas and Charley, after gassing up, was pulling his bike around to the shady side of the building and dropped it. Dang. No harm done. Then we saw the other guys pass by on the road so we knew they were OK. We pushed on into Red Wing, found our motel, and met up with the others.

It turned out that going through the construction zone someone had stopped suddenly in front of Mike, he had braked quickly, and Roy plowed into him. Again, no injuries, but some damage to Mike’s side bag. We were just glad to get to Red Wing, and Dave put his battery on a charger overnight, with everyone crossing their fingers.

Except Tim wasn’t there. I was out in the parking lot at 10 that night talking to Judy on the phone when I heard a bike and there was Tim, finally arriving. I didn’t talk to him then but the next day he told me he didn’t even get out of Davenport the previous morning when he wiped out on some gravel. With that and a few other issues he had had a very long day.

Biker Quote for Today

When you arise in the morning think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive, to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love, to ride a motorcycle.

The lobby of the lodge at Pere Marquette State Park. Yes, that’s a chessboard with 3-foot-tall chessmen.

A different kind of long day today on this Great River Road ride with the RMMRC. We left St. Charles in the cool of the morning, with mist over everything. Very magical. We rode to the river at Alton, where we crossed on a new bridge very unlike the old one I drove over tripping on acid 50 years ago. That’s a story but it doesn’t bear telling here.

Then we turned north on the road that runs right along the river—very nice. This is MO 100. There were high bluffs for miles and I was kicking myself for not having my camera at the ready. Another negative of riding with a group; on my own I would have stopped and gotten my camera out. We passed through Grafton, which looks touristy but interesting. Then on to Pere Marquette State Park where we stopped and checked out the rustic old lodge. This would be a nice place to bring your wife to if you’re into these sorts of things. It’s definitely on my list of places to visit with Judy.

We rode up to a viewpoint and that was where we lost Tom. When we were ready to go, he went along on the road we were on, while the rest of us backtracked. He expected it to come back to the lodge but in fact it comes out to the river about three miles further down. We never saw him the rest of the day. I don’t know if he doesn’t read maps well, didn’t know what the planned route was, or what. Reaching him later by phone we found that he was many miles away from where we were and he had just decided to head straight to Davenport, our night’s stop.

The rest of us rode on to Hannibal and had lunch. We came through some nice country, rode along the river at times, but didn’t see the river at all for much of the time. From Louisiana, Missouri, to Hannibal was the nicest part.

In Hannibal, after lunch, the plan had been to visit the Mark Twain Boyhood Home & Museum, which comprises several sites around the town but it was blazing hot and everyone wanted to just go on. Except me. I said I’ll see you later but the main site was swarming with school kids so I said forget this and headed out. I stopped at a former Suzuki dealer a little later and bought a new helmet because the one I had worn was literally falling to pieces.

I took what turned out to be a side trip over into Quincy but then crossed back into Illinois to follow US 61. A little further on I took the business route through La Grange and Canton, both right on the river and then followed the highways up to Keokuk. From Keokuk, on the Illinois side following IL 96 it was a nice road right along the river, going through some historic areas. I stopped in Nauvoo for an ice cream break. This was another of the questions I had asked the day before: Don’t you guys ever make a stop for ice cream? Heck the OFMC makes it a point to have an ice cream break pretty much every day. Ice cream is synonymous with motorcycle riding isn’t it?

Some of the group had talked about wanting to stop and see a lock and dam along the river. I have to admit, as much of my life as I lived along or near the Mississippi River I had no real idea that there were dams on this mighty river. That’s totally illogical because my uncle, who lived in Granite City, Illinois, worked at a lock there. But there are dams, a lot of them, on the Mississippi. I made it a point to sit on the shady side of the street in Nauvoo eating my ice cream in case I had passed the other guys and they should just happen to come along at that time. It didn’t happen, at least in part because they never did stop at a lock, though we came past several of them.

From Nauvoo I mostly followed signs for the Great River Road and some of it was very nice but some not worth it. I was really glad to reach the hotel and get a shower. And good to relax and have a beer. This was not a 450-mile day again but it was darn near a 400-mile day by the time it was over. That’s a lot of riding and I was just glad to have taken the second part of the day at my own pace.

Biker Quote for Today

Knock knock! Who’s there? Iona. Iona who? Iona brand new motorcycle, wanna go for a ride?