Motorcycling Trip #19: Sept 2019

This trip had three starts. The first time I made it to northern Colorado, then I had to return home with bike problems. The second start I made it three miles. The third start I slabbed it to my turn around point in northern Colorado, and resumed following the GDR to southern Montana. The bike was running great, but the season had become too late and the weather was no longer proving suitable.

Even so, despite the setbacks, the trip was very enjoyable.

The first start.

Obligatory stop at the Toaster House in Pie Town NM.

Open spaces en route to Grants NM. Notice the dust on the road in the far distance. I stopped to take this photo when a truck pulled up to see if I was OK. Assuring him that I was, he drove on. (Then I had to wait for his dust to settle before taking the photo.) The point is, regardless of what you read and hear on the news, the vast majority of people are friendly, and many are willing to help someone in need.

La Ventana Arch.

Teakettle Rock

Abiquiu Reservoir

Camp north of El Rito.

Video: Rain

Next morning, the dry spot under where my tarp used to be.

I like to ride fast, usually, and this morning I was blazing. But a few sections of the road were rough, mainly because of rain and erosion, but one section was so rocky and steep that if I had stopped to ponder it, I might have turned back. If I were riding with another person, I would take more chances; but riding alone I have to be more careful.

Canon Plaza, NM

Little and Big Red Mountains, rich in iron and other heavy metals.

Elwood Meadows. The near constant rain of this trip made it difficult to take photos.

Camped at Del Norte city park. I had been riding in the rain most of the day, and had been looking forward to a dry night under my tarp. But it turns out that the short post in-line with the front wheel is somehow a lawn sprinkler. It turned on in the middle of the night, and sprayed heavy rain horizontally, directly into the end of my tarp. So I fitted my batwing, and that solved the problem. It was pretty funny! :) However, next time I will request park maintenance to turn off the timer for the one night; and this they have offered to do in the past.

Basalt formation known as Hell's gate.

Pretty scenery on the way up to Carnero Pass.

Carnero Pass

Drying out my gear on the way to Cochetpa Pass. Map

I met a CDT hiker at Marshall Pass and he offered to take this photo. (I'm bundled in several layers of clothing to cope with the cold of the late season.)

Drying garments after yet another rain storm - at my camp at Bassam Pass (zoom out and switch to Satellite view)

Boreas Pass

Good view of The Ten Mile Range from the Boreas Pass road.

I found this private beach in Giberson Bay on Dillon Reservoir, and went for a short swim. The water wasn't too cold, even though the wind had a bit of a bite to it.

Dillon Reservoir

Williams Fork Reservoir

Colorado River and the settlement of Radium

Link

One of my favorite sections of the GDR, although parts can be a little rough, and other parts are not suitable when wet. Link

Rock Creek was not as deep as usual, thanks to the Routt County Road Department's blasting the beaver dams and blading them over.

In Steamboat the bike quit running, and I spent several hours trying to get it going again. I knew the the engine was not getting fuel. The motorcycle shops in town were all booked, and besides I don't like to take my bikes to shops. I could have ordered a fuel pump and filter, but I couldn't wait for a postal delivery - because I couldn't camp in town, and the motels were expensive. A new fuel pump would be expensive, and I knew I could fix the fuel pump at home using cheap parts from ebay. So at the time, it made more sense to truck the bike home. There was only one U-haul truck available in town that day; it was larger than what I would have liked, but it did have a loading ramp. So I backed the truck up to an embankment and simply wheeled the bike in.

I bought some straps at a big box store, and headed for home.

Part 2

Back at home, in my shop, I fixed the fuel problem. I also took the front wheel off, to fix the shimmy. Somehow I hadn't balanced it correctly.

I was eager to get back on the route again, so I left home the next morning in the dark.

I made it three miles when I experienced another problem. The GPS power supply quit working. I couldn't follow my route without the GPS because I had planned several side trips that I not ridden before. I turned back, and when I wheeled the bike into the garage, the power supply actually started smoking! Good thing I wasn't riding at the time! I didn't have another power supply on hand, so spent the day cobbling one together from parts in my junk box.

Part 3

The third start.

I had fun slabbing the bike back to Colorado. (The rental truck home had been fun also!)

Back at Abiquiu Reservoir, but on the slab this time.

I was slabbing along the highway, and reached Moffat Colorado in the late afternoon, when I noticed the town's city park. A lady across the street from the park was tending to her chickens, so I asked her if I could camp here. Sure, no problem. She was a bit of a hippie, with a rastafarian hairstyle, and nice as could be. We talked for quite a while. Someone drove past, and she said "There's our mayor, let's ask her. The mayor was friendly also, and said that I could camp at the park. I told her that "One doesn't get a chance to meet a mayor very often! It's a real pleasure." She beamed.

I reached Steamboat and got back on the GDR Route, then shortly got hammered with a powerful rain storm, so chose to follow the old route through Columbine. At one point I was hit by a gust so strong that it nearly blew me and the bike off the road. The storm passed, and I enjoyed a pleasant few hours until the next storm.

The route leaves Wamsutter WY and ventures into the Red Desert aka "Big Empty," where I encountered one group of pronghorn after the other.

I also saw many Mustangs. In all, I saw probably 1,000 pronghorn and 200 Mustangs that day, plus a badger that crossed the road just in front of me. And no people.

This is an old road but a new part of the GDR. I love to ride these wide open spaces.

I'm about half-way through the Big Empty, The Wind River mountains are starting to come into view.

After crossing the Big Empty the route parallels the Wind Rivers.

I call this place my "Columbine Camp" and have camped here over a dozen times. Its on the way to Union Pass, and its always here waiting for me.

Still heading toward Union Pass.

The Tetons are snow free, but that would change dramatically in a few days.

At Flagg Ranch I was filling my tank and noticed the guy on the other side of the pump was having trouble getting gas. Turns out he was Japanese and couldn't speak a world of English. And not only that, he had no idea how to work the gas pump. So I put his credit card in, selected what I thought was the proper grade of gas, and showed him how to work the nozzle. He was all smiles.

Grassy Lake Reservoir

Tunnel of the old Union Pacific Railroad, now the Warm River Rail-Trail.

My camp was located a few miles short of Red Rock Pass. I spent a comfortable night here, and the next morning set off. However, three miles further on, I could see that a major storm was brewing. So for the first time in my riding experience, I turned back and pitched the tarp in the same place. I beat the rain by 5 minutes. The rain lasted for 24 hours, and the next morning it turned to three inches of snow. I had lain under the tarp for 36 hours, and it was time to make a decision. I don't mind riding in the rain. Good thing because I've done plenty of that on this trip, and others. But my immediate goal was to ride the Gravelly Range, and that was now buried under deep snow. I could have skipped the Gravellies, and resumed riding the GDR, but for another problem. I sensed a much bigger snowstorm headed for Montana. (and in retrospect I was correct.) The riding season was over, and it was time to turn tail. I packed my gear under the tarp, took the tarp down, loaded my gear onto the bike, and climbed on. And the bike promptly fell over. Those 36 hours of laying still had affected my equilibrium. Plus the cold had numbed my hands. I unloaded the gear, picked up the bike, and re-loaded. The terrain between my camp and the paved road was muddy and covered with patches of snow, but I experienced no further problems.

I rode to West Yellowstone, in the rain, with the intent of continuing through Yellowstone. But again, my 6th sense (intuitive power of perception) interrupted with the fact that it was snowing heavily in the higher regions of Yellowstone, and I should just bite the bullet and book a motel room for the day. So I began stopping at motels and asking for their rates. I stopped at the one in the above photo, more as shelter from the rain. The desk clerk was a young woman wearing remarkably heavy makeup. She studied the data on her computer for a long while, then finally concluded "We can put you up for $175." Thank you, but no. I was looking for a warm and dry room, and was not interested in luxury.

Warm and dry, and decidedly not luxurious.

Next day, early, I rode through Yellowstone, and yes, there was lots of snow in the high sectons, but at least the snow on the road had melted. This mud pot in the parking lot at West Thumb is my favorite. I always stop here when passing through.

I worked at West Thumb the summer of 1963; so the place brings back lots of good memories.

Elk in Yellowstone Park.

Jackson Lake under a steely sky.

Tetons

I wanted to go over Togwotee Pass, but the rangers advised against it, saying snow tires advised. So I headed for Jackson instead.

Slabbing home.

Arriving home, bundled to the hilt with warm clothes.

Closing Thoughts

This trip was a really good one, all three sections of it. And I'd like to point out that everything that happened - from the fuel pump problem, to the u-haul trip home, to the snow and rain, were just a part of the overall trip.

The fuel pump problem was not a failure. It was just a part of the trip, and I learned a bunch from it.

The u-haul trip home, carrying the bike, was not a failure. Again, it was just a part of the trip. I enjoyed driving the big truck, and saw a bunch of country that I had not seen before.

My turning back before the Gravellies was not a failure. I have ridden the GDR route so many times, that I'm not bent on reaching the border. What matters is that I'm riding. Which direction does not matter.

Motorcycling the highways from Yellowstone to central Arizona is a trip in itself. Lots of riding, lots to see, more people to meet, and about a thousand other motorcyclists to wave to. It was fun!

Now, on to my point:

I'm writing this photo essay as an example. I don't care if a person is riding a motorcycle, or riding a mountain bike or street bike, or hiking a big trail or a small trail - or just sitting in the city park watching the ducks. My example of riding a motorcycle is only one example of a great many possibilities. The point is simply to get away from the phone and text messages, TV and internet. Get away from your daily routine (rut), and go do something enjoyable that will give your life more meaning. Watching TV, browsing the internet, playing video games, and perusing the social networks - these are not living. And a person needs to break away from all that, every now and then.

So much madness in the daily news. But I don't find any of that out in the real world. People are friendly and the world is extremely beautiful!

Nature is your medicine. Go to the mountains. Go the trails. Go to the city park. And you will find solace.

Its a beautiful world!!

Preparations

My work on the Dakar, to get it ready for the trip, was a key part of the trip taken as a whole. I love working on my motorcycles, and it's much the same love for sewing hiking and camping gear in preparation for a big hike. Working on a bike, you get to know more about how it works, and you get to see the condition of every part. Lots of riders simply take their bikes into the shops for repair or maintenance, and I think they are missing so much. But that's just me, but the bottom line is simply to go - regardless of who repairs and maintains the bike.

• Rebuild front forks with new seals, dust covers and fresh fork oil.
• New fuel pump gasket
• New tires and tubes, front and rear
• Remove swing arm and lube needle bearings (they needed it)
• New Spark Plugs (Didn't need replacing, but had several on hand)
• Oil change with new oil filter
• New air filter
• New brake fluid, front and rear
• New rear brake pads
• Lube throttle and clutch cables
• Adjust valves with new, thinner shims. (1st time in 65,000 miles)

In this photo I'm adjusting the overhead valves by replacing the shims. I can't get to the timing chain tensioner, so I'm prying out the intake cam sprocket with a screwdriver and two popsicle sticks.

Cams and Lower Cam Carrier.

Cam Chain and Shim Buckets.

Rear wheel and swing-arm removed.

Swing-arm and linkages on the workbench. I'm greasing the roller bearings. They were not dry, but definitely needed lubing.

I got the bike back together and took it for a test ride - a very hard test ride - and when I returned to my shop, the bike smelled like smoke. Something was leaking oil somewhere onto the hot engine. With a strong flashlight, I determined that the culprit was an oil hose feeding into the valve cover - the hose-clamp was not positioned correctly. I was certain I did the valve job correctly, but decided to take everything back apart, anyway, for inspection. I took the valve cover off and re-torqued the Cam Carrier bolts (they were fine) and performed another valve clearance test (the clearances were fine). With the oil hose problem fixed, I put the bike back together, and it ran fine.

"Enjoyed so much watching and reading about your travels. I always wanted to ride my bike coast to coast, but didn't have the guts to do it on my own and couldn't find somebody to ride with me." - Ray K.

Ray replies: These motorcycle trips are very different than any other type of trip I have done, regarding the people met along the way. While hiking, a person meets other friendly hikers; and how many depends on the popularly of the trail. While driving a car on a long trip, a person has to go out of their way to meet anyone friendly. But riding a motorcycle, a person meets so many other friendly motorcyclists that its flat out amazing! And not only that, but most of them treat each other like family. Riding the highway all day, I get waves from at least few hundred other motorcyclists going the other way. At most stops, I have someone to talk to. Even if I don't see other motorcyclists at that stop, someone driving a car is bound to come up and talk to me, because they ride also, or used to ride. So even though I'm riding solo, I'm certainly not riding alone. I meet and make so many friends. So for someone worried about going solo - don't worry.