Back on the road I went west on CO 470 to US 285 south, which heads into the mountains. This road starts off at four lanes, then goes to two with occasional passing lanes. There was more traffic than I’d previously seen on a weekday on that road in the past, probably because like everywhere else people are out and making up for almost a year and a half of being shut down. I was dressed for the 75 degrees in Denver, but the temperature quickly dropped into the mid 60s, and lower, and the sky clouded over, typical at elevation in the mountains. Kenosha Pass is 10,000 feet, and Red Hill Pass just north of Fairplay is almost the same. Java Moose in Fairplay provided a good cup of coffee and a chef’s salad, and after getting gas nearby I was back on the road.
There had been a few light sprinkles and the temperature stayed low so I was wearing my cold gear. After Fairplay 285 descends a couple of thousand feet into a very large valley (I saw commercial signs that referred to the area as Big Valley) surrounded by mountains. The traffic moved along, and the cars and trucks that didn’t were easily passed.
I’m spending the night at the Rio Grande Motel in Monte Vista (mountain view), Colorado, which is at the intersection of 285 and US 160. The motel is my kind of place - rustic and well-kept, but basic. The town is bigger than I thought it would be, with a downtown area of several blocks along US 160.
(There were about a dozen of these birds along the main street in downtown Monte Vista)I had dinner at Los Lopez Taqueria (very good and muy authentico), and after trying to find non-alcoholic beer at a liquor store and a Safeway with no success, I returned to my hotel room to research possible routes for tomorrow. My plan had been to ride on 160 to South Fork, then take CO 149 north over Slumgullion Pass (11,361 feet) to US 50 a few miles west of Gunnison, then continue to Montrose and wiggle around western Colorado, eventually making my way to Moab, Utah. However, I had seen signs along 285 warning of road closures on US 50 between Gunnison and Montrose and advising people to check US50INFO.COM, which I did as soon as I got to the motel. Sure enough, the complete closures begin at 8 AM in the morning on weekdays with a couple of hours during the day when there is single lane traffic. I thought about riding up and over Slumgullion Pass to Lake City, and then turning around and riding back to US 160, but that would add 140 miles and about 3 hours to my day, so I reluctantly decided to follow Google Maps and just take 160 all the way to 491 into Utah and then Moab. So, tomorrow will be about 80 miles and a couple of hours shorter than I’d planned, less scenic, and over roads that I’ve been on before. Slumgullion Pass will have to wait for another time.
During this trip there have been inconveniences associated with construction and many more people than normal out on the roads and visiting attractions. However, after the year plus of not doing much of anything, I’m just happy to be out and about. (250 miles)
(Thursday, July 1) The ride today turned out better than I had anticipated. At the recommendation of Dave, who runs the motel, I had breakfast about a half mile away at The Sunflour Bakery. There was one other person in the small restaurant, Jarrel, and he is retired and owns a Triumph Trident, a 2300cc, three cylinder monster cruiser that weighs well over 700 pounds. He said he used to ride Gold Wings, so maybe the Triumph seems normal to him. He’d been to Alaska (in a motor home) and we talked about the roads up there, and I asked him about the construction on US 50 between Gunnison and Montrose. He thought that the construction began west of the CO 92 turnoff, in which case I could ride that to Crawford and then go to 550 and south to Montrose - about 130 miles and three hours out of my way, and not what I’d decided on last night, but then Jarrel mentioned that if I did ride CO 149 over Slumgullion I should stop in Lake City for catfish. That got my attention, and I pressed him for details. He couldn’t remember the name of the place, but he described how to get there. Then I noticed that there was strawberry rhubarb pie in the display case, and I took this as an omen that I should chance 149. (The crust on the pie was delicious, light and flaky, but the filling was just OK.) I walked back to the motel, packed, and finally left about 8:50 - since I’d thought I’d have a short day I had seen no reason to rush that morning. I discovered that the huge valley that begins at Fairplay and extends to Monte Vista and beyond is called the San Luis Valley.
I was dressed for the sunny weather, but it was still a bit cool. When I reached South Fork and the turnoff for C0 149 I took it and headed north. The road is in good shape and there was little traffic, but as we got higher it cooled down and became overcast with threatening clouds where I was headed. I stopped in Creede to reconsider and to put on my jacket liner and warmer gloves, and had just about decided to head back to South Fork when I asked the young guy in the visitors’ center about the catfish restaurant in Lake City over the pass. He said he’d never been there, but looked it up and said that the name was Southern Vittles. I also asked him about the road construction, and he said that all he knew was what was on the construction company website, which wasn’t very helpful - just a schedule of when the road had one-way traffic and when it was completely closed. The clouds had dispersed, so I decided to go at least as far as Lake City, and kept going north on 149. The road is mostly in good shape and there was little traffic, so I hustled along and didn’t stop at several scenic view turnoffs, thinking that I could stop on the way back to highway 160. There were ranches and vacation homes and a lot of empty, wooded land with the Rio Grande River never far from sight. The last few miles to the summit became steeper and twistier, but headed down the other side the road was quite steep with a few 15mph corners - in other words a lot of fun. Lake City turned out to be a charming place with ORV (off road vehicle) ranches, vacation homes, and an old downtown area of several blocks. I found Southern Vittles, but it didn’t open until 11, about 10 minutes away. I asked one of the waitresses, Maebee I believe her name is, about the road closure, and she said that the construction didn’t begin until west of the 92 turnoff, and in fact she had taken the detour just the other day. Reassured, I ordered catfish and fries and a sweet tea and decided that I would keep going. The catfish turned out to be breaded with a cajun spice, quite good but not what my friend CC would consider to be authentic.
The town of Lake City is very laid back and comfortable - don’t tell anyone about it so it won’t get spoiled. I got gas at a local station, and headed north along a river, this time the Gunnison River, and after 30 miles or so came to US 50 and went west. It may have been my imagination, but it seemed that there was less traffic than I would have expected during vacation season - maybe all the warnings about road closures had scared people away. After 25 miles of enjoying the views of the high mesa and Blue Lake, I came to the turnoff for Crawford to avoid the road closure. However, there was a Park Ranger in front of me who took the detour, and I didn’t want to follow him for 50 miles at 45 miles per hour. Also, it was a little after 12:30, and I knew that there was a one hour window when the road would be open, albeit only one way at a time with a pilot car, so I decided to take a chance that the backup wouldn’t be too severe, and in fact after a couple of miles I came to the end of the line of about 50 cars.
After about 10 minutes cars began to appear from the west, and after another 15 minutes the last one went by and shortly thereafter our line began to move. Slowly. After a mile or so we stopped again, waited and waited, and then cars began to come by from the west again. There are probably more cars headed west than east, so the road control does a double stop. This was unexpected, but after another 20 or 30 minute wait, we started moving again, and finally went by the area where the road is being widened and very large rocks from the cliffs above are piled along the shoulder of the road. By this time it was 1:30, and after our group went through the road would be completely closed for another 2-3 hours, so my timing was good and I lucked out. If I’d know at the beginning that the construction closure started west of highway 92, I would have never worried about the closure because if I missed the open window I could just take the detour. The website said nothing about a detour.
The backed up traffic was slow, but eventually it cleared and after 30 miles I was in Montrose, where I got gas, went south on US 550, and looked for coffee and a snack. The Dunkin’ Donuts was right across from a Wells Fargo, so I got a bunch of 20s (I started the trip with a lot of 50s, but have mostly been using 20s instead), had coffee and a donut, and was on my way. Montrose has a small downtown area of a few blocks, but most of the town is spread out along US 550 - every franchise you can think of. Eventually, I came to the end of the city and the scenery became more interesting. In Ridgeway most of the cars stayed on 550 to Ouray but I took CO 62 to Placerville and CO 140 west, but the remaining cars went on 145 east towards Telluride. Both 62 and 145 are very scenic roads and in good shape with good sight lines, curves, elevation changes, and little traffic. Just past Naturita I went west on CO 90 past Paradox (for once I didn’t ride into “town” to take a picture) and after a few miles of very tight corners and a steep climb crossed into Utah. The road goes through the La Sal mountains and is scenic, but you have to pay attention - a lot of fun. At the La Sal junction I went north on US 191 to Moab, where I’m spending the night at the River Canyon Lodge, a fairly new three story motel that is very functional, no frills, and well kept. The rooms are small, but have everything I need. The very talkative desk clerk recommended Thai Bella across the street, and told me where the local supermarket was located. She also told me that there was a severe housing shortage in Moab, but that they keep building more housing for travelers and vacationers, but nothing for the people who work in town to support the visitors.
I walked about five blocks through town to the supermarket at the south end, picked up Heineken Zero, and walked back to the motel. The town was lively with a lot of young people, and families with kids. There is an extensive mountain biking scene in Moab, jeep tours, ORV rentals and tours, and a few old people like me. The Thai dinner was very good and I ate about half of it and took the rest with me for breakfast. (370 miles, but they were tiring)
(Friday, July 2) After leftover Thai for breakfast and a short walk to a NAPA store, I was on the bike, but not before I took a picture of the Jailhouse Cafe, where Andrew and I had breakfast after camping in a campground on the north end of town when he was nine or ten.
At the entrance to Arches National Park a little after 8:30 the ranger said that they only let in as many people as the parking lots can handle, but that today they were open for business so far. I rode directly to Delicate Arch, which is on all the Arches brochures and everywhere that Arches Park is mentioned. There wasn’t much traffic, and it moved along at the low park limit. Delicate Arch is about 14 miles from the park entrance, and I parked the bike and joined everyone else who was hiking the half mile trail to the viewpoint, which is actually a quarter mile from the arch itself. The picture below was taken with the maximum optical zoom on my Cannon point-and-shoot. The people under and around the arch must have arrived there on a different trail.
One the way back I stopped at several viewing areas alongside the road, one of which was for balancing rock.
There were a few other interesting rock formations that could be seen from the main road, and many more I’m sure on the side roads. However, highway 95 through Glen Canyon has many red rock formations that can be seen from the road, and nearby Goblin State Park on highway 25 north of Hanksville has a large number of amazing formations.
More of the formations in Arches.
After an hour and a half I was at the visitors’ center and ready to leave. In the parking lot I met a guy from Wisconsin on a BMW GS who had been at the rally. By this time it was getting hot - about 90 degrees. Highway 191 north is flat and the scenery isn’t particularly interesting, and there was a certain amount of holiday traffic which moved right along. On I-70 I blasted along at 80 mph (the speed limit) for 20 miles and exited past Green River to continue on 191 north. The scenery became more desolate and a little after noon I stopped in Wellington at the Outlaw Cafe, which seemed to be the local seniors hangout, so I fit right in. Highway 191 becomes a freeway after Wellington and you have to exit if you want to eat or get gas in Price, so I was glad I’d stopped earlier. The road climbs over a couple of summits, and after an hour the sky clouded, the temperature dropped about 30 degrees, and there was a 15 minute rain shower. I didn’t bother stopping to put on my rain gear, and sure enough the sun came out, the elevation went down, the temperature climbed back into the 90s, and I dried out in about 20 minutes.
My GPS decided to route me around downtown Provo instead of having me exit at Highway 189 which goes through the busiest part of town. Perhaps a good idea except that there was a small accident on I-15 north of the the 189 exit, which slowed traffic for a mile or so as everyone looked to see what had happened - not much from what I could see. Once through Provo I went north on 189 along the river until the GPS decided to have me get off about 10 miles south of Heber City so I could take a shortcut over Wassach Mountain. The road went through Midway and then climbed and twisted with some 15 mph uphill corners that had me in first gear. The GPS wanted me to take even more of a shortcut up a couple of gravel roads, but I declined and eventually came into the back part of the Deer Valley Resort and found my sister’s condo. I unloaded the bike, started a laundry, unhooked the battery tender, checked that her car started OK, added air to a couple of the tires, and went to the airport to pick up my sister and her husband, whose flight had been delayed for two hours in Denver. The arrived eventually, somewhat frustrated with the delay and the full flight, but that is what flying is like these days. I believe that this is called First World Problems. (265 miles)
(Monday, July 5) The last two days were spent with my sister and brother-in-law at their ski condo in Deer Valley above Park City. On Saturday Linda and I went shopping on Main Street in Park City and the place was jumping with live music and many people walking around eating ice cream and enjoying the beautiful day. Dinner was salmon at the condo, and doing a lot of catching up since we hadn’t seen each other in two years. On Sunday we took a drive through Heber Valley and Midway, a very quaint town with many antique stores and artist studios. We had lunch at The Split in Heber City, and that evening we drove back to Heber City and had dinner at The Back 40, which is famous for their delicious fried chicken. They even had good NA beer.
Today I was up with the sun to get an early start because I had a lot of ground to cover. Linda took a picture of me loaded up and ready to go.
It was about 65 degrees when we said our goodbyes, and I rode through Park City to US 40 towards Heber City, but took the cutoff through Midway, which saves a few miles. In Charleston I went south on US 189 to Provo and decided to ride through the town since I didn’t expect many people to be up and about early on a holiday morning. However, an event (maybe a parade?) was being set up and there was a detour around 8 blocks of closed University Ave. Back on 189 I saw an open Conoco and braked hard to turn in, felt something bump against my leg, and saw my left system case (pannier) sliding down the road ahead of me. I was only moving at about 15 mph and the case was scratched a bit but didn’t pop open or appear to be otherwise damaged. Examining the case I saw that a small plastic tab on the case that keeps it from moving upwards when locked to the bike had broken off, perhaps when it tumbled off a luggage cart at a motel a few days earlier, or perhaps because it is a thin little tab made of plastic. I put the case back on the bike and counted on its weight and the fact that the tail bag was resting on the case to keep the case in place. Tomorrow I’ll call a BMW shop and see if the tab can be replaced, or if I’ll have to buy a new case.
After getting gas I went south on I-15 for thirty miles, exited at Nephi, went southwest on UT 132 to Lyndyl, then west on US 6 to Delta where I got gas at my usual gas station, and went west on US 50. As I rode through town I noticed that The Rancher restaurant was open for business - I’ve eaten there several times over the years and even stayed in the motel once. I continued on 50 to the Nevada border and Big Basin National Park where the road becomes very scenic and climbs up and over Sacramento Pass (7162 feet), then Connors Pass (7749 feet), and then into Ely, where I got gas at my usual Chevron travel stop and casino. Ely seemed quiet but most businesses were open. I’d planned to eat at the Silver State Cafe in Ely, but wasn’t hungry and decided to continue on to Eureka. In the 70 or so miles to Eureka I went over three more passes, ranging from 6500 feet to 7500 feet. All this road is very familiar territory to me - I’ve been over it literally dozens of times over the years. In Eureka I stopped at The Owl Club Cafe, where the expected “Help Wanted” sign was in the window. There was one waitress who was doubling as hostess and cashier, so service was a bit slow. The first time I ate at the Owl Club was back in the 1970s when Carol and I were at the start of a cross country motorcycle trip. I think we had camped at the Tom Scott campground outside Austin, and stopped in Eureka for breakfast. The waitress was moving slowly and was a bit bleary-eyed, and she explained that there was a rodeo at the fairgrounds the previous night, and that she had partied a little too hard. One Fourth of July a few years ago I was trapped in the Owl Club after breakfast because US 50, which is Main Street, had closed for the Fourth of July parade, trapping my bike at the curb. I watched kids on horses, a few old cars, a fire truck, tractors and more parade by, and after a half hour or so the road was opened and I was on my way.
Back on US 50 west I went over another summit, then descended down a very twisty section of 8 miles or so to Austin, where I got gas at what used to be a Chevron station. Just after the summit and before the road gets really interesting the driver of a pickup moved onto the wide shoulder so I could get by - a nice gesture. After Austin 50 becomes less interesting aside from a few low passes, but there was 40 miles of fresh chip seal that had to be ridden carefully - the chip seal leaves a lot of gravel in the roadway, and sometimes the oil that is used isn’t all absorbed. After the morning chill, the temperature had been mostly in the 80s, but at the lower elevations it went up and I saw over 100 degrees outside of Fallon, where I’m staying at a Comfort Inn on the west side of town which is one long strip mall at that point. Fallon has a small, old downtown and the excellent Courtyard Cafe, but otherwise has little to recommend it as far as I can tell. (547 miles, a piece of cake)
(Tuesday, July 7) Last night I perused an online BMW parts fiche and determined that BMW does make the part that broke/went missing available so I planned to stop at a BMW shop in Sparks as soon as they opened in the morning to purchase one. In the meantime I created a wedge out of two paper plates, jammed it between the top of the system case and the bottom of the luggage rack, and tied the wedge in place with zip ties.
It was 85 degrees when I pulled out of the motel parking lot and headed west out of town on US 50. The highway becomes four lane, divided in places, all the way to Fernley 30 miles west where there were at least 17 fast food places at the interchange with I-80. The scenery can be described as bleak on that section of I-80 towards Reno, but at least I was moving along unlike the people in the eastbound direction - there had been an accident that had closed the road, and it was now down to one lane and traffic was backed up for 10 miles. In Sparks the shop was just opening, and Tim the parts guy said that the part was available but not in stock. He said he could order it and have it shipped, and I said OK. I’d called A&S BMW in Roseville (just east of Sacramento on I-80) earlier and they didn’t have the part in stock either.
Back on I-80 I rode through Reno into California and was waved through the agricultural inspection station. The road climbed up to Truckee and then over the Donner summit where it began the long descent into the Sacramento Valley. The road is in good shape, and there was surprisingly little traffic. The previous evening I’d emailed an old friend from work who was also a riding buddy. We’d been to Alaska two times, to northern Alberta, motorcycle shows, and other trips together. He and his wife, Carol (who also worked where we did), purchased a house in Auburn a year and a half ago. I’d asked if I could stop by, and John said sure, and that Carol would make us a quick lunch that would be no trouble. It tasted as good as it looks.
Far healthier than my usual fare along the road for the last three weeks. The house is on a cul-de-sac and they recently installed an 8 kw Tesla power wall. The batteries are far smaller than I’d imagined, and the whole unit seems well thought out and integrated. John and Carol recently adopted a husky/chihuahua mix dog that has the husky white eyes, and is larger than a chihuahua. She’s very friendly - a sweet dog.
We said our goodbyes and I was back on the road. There was a long traffic jam on the eastbound direction of I-80 due to an accident on the center divide, but in my direction traffic moved along until west of Sacramento where the road goes from four to three then to two lanes that merge with I-80 business through Sacramento, and then everyone goes from five lanes to four to three. It takes time for drivers to sort all this out and I’ve been through there at 10 PM and there is always very slow traffic. One of the few remaining things I like about California is that lane-splitting is legal, and many drivers even pull over slightly to let you through. I stopped in Vacaville at a Harley shop where my Roadster is awaiting repair. I was rear-ended at the end of May on my way to Chico for an old motorcycle show and swap meet. Remarkably, I wasn’t hurt at all, but the bike, though rideable, suffered expensive damage and the shop was waiting for an appraiser from the insurance company to come by and see if the shop’s estimate is reasonable. (The insurer’s initial estimate was based on several pictures I took of the bike and emailed to the appraiser, who is located in Kansas, I believe. Based on the photographs, he did a good job of picking up on the various parts that would need to be replaced, but the labor cost was based on a shop rate of $75/hour, which is less than half of what shops charge in California.)
The temperature was a moderate 85 degrees when I left Fallon, dropped to 70 at the high elevation of Donner, and then was a moderate 85 in the valley. I checked WAZE in Vacaville, and was told that highway 37 was the best route home. There was a short tie up where the two lanes go to one for the 10 miles across the tidal basin, but otherwise traffic wasn’t bad. In Novato I went south on 101, across the Golden Gate Bridge, and into San Francisco where it was cool and foggy and windy. It was 59 degrees when I pulled into our driveway and immediately began unloading the bike. Carol came out to greet me, and then I went inside to see Walter. (347 miles)
It was a good trip with beautiful scenery, mostly good weather, friendly people along the road, and no problems or close calls. Everywhere we went in the mountain west people were friendly and helpful, and we had several conversations with fellow travelers in restaurants where we stopped along the way, often with someone who either has a bike or used to ride. I think that after over a year of semi-isolation the people who are out traveling are very happy to be out and about and more inclined to interact with strangers than they might otherwise be. Even the overworked staff in the short-handed cafes, restaurants, and motels were in good humor. When I was younger I went to a few of the large BMW rallies, but wasn’t all that interested because after a quick tour of the vendors I wanted to be back out on the road instead of standing around and talking with people. In those days there was a certain in-group of members who had been there from the formation of the club in 1972, and the other attendees were younger and there was a certain amount of macho posing about who had the fastest bike, who had covered the most miles getting there, and whose bike was the best. Now most of the people at the rally are not that much younger than I am, I’m one of those old guys, and I enjoy the interactions with other like-minded people. I’ll stop to look at a particularly well outfitted bike, and the owner will come up and start talking, we ask each other about the ride to the rally, and we find out that maybe we’ve been on the same roads and owned similar bikes in the past.
Carol just reminded me of one photograph I wish I’d taken: After our cowboy croissant at The Sandwich Shop in Saratoga, WY, she was sitting on a bench in front of the closed Sweet Marie’s cafe, pulling on her rain pants. It had been a cold and misty ride from our motel and it was still chilly, but the sun had come out and at that high elevation it warmed you right up, and Carol said that maybe we should just sit there for the next couple of hours.
Now, where can I go next…. (three weeks and two days, 4,060 miles)
Glad to have been a stop on your great journey! Your sister, Linda
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