I thought I would repost a blog I wrote in 2019 about riding in the rain. It’s been raining nonstop here in So Cal for days. When I say nonstop, that’s what I mean. Ordinarily when you get caught in the rain, it lasts for a while and then stops, and then maybe starts again. With this atmospheric river (the meteorological term) we are experiencing, it has literally been constant rain. I’m staying warm and cozy with a cup of coffee here in my home, but looking out the window, I’m reminded of past rides in the rain…and with that intro, here’s our previous blog.
Wow, it has been pouring here for the last week, with little respite other than this past Sunday. Sunday was nice. Every other day this week and the tail end of last week has been nonstop rain. Big time. Buckets full. And my iPhone just started buzzing with a flash flood warning for this area. Wow again.
So I’m sitting here at the computer, enjoying a hot cup of coffee, looking out the window, and I’m thinking about what it’s like to ride in the rain. We’ve all had those rides. Those memories stick in my mind. I remember every one of those rides like they happened yesterday.
The first was the return leg of my first international motorcycle foray, when good buddy Keith Hediger and I rode up to Montreal and back. That was in the early ‘70s, and we didn’t call them adventure rides back then. They were just motorcycle rides. I was on a ’71 CB750 and Keith was on a Kawi 500cc triple. It rained the entire length of Vermont at about the same intensity you see in the video above. We had no rain gear. It wasn’t cold, but it sure was wet. We were soaked the entire day. Wouldn’t trade a minute of it. It was a great ride.
Another time was on the second ride I ever did in Baja with good buddy Baja John. It was pouring when we left at 4:00 a.m., and it didn’t let up for the entire day. I was on a Harley then, and we finally stopped somewhere around Colonet to checked into a cheap Baja hotel (a somewhat redundant term, which is becoming less redundant as Baja’s march in to the 21st century unfortunately continues). Leather, I found out on that trip, makes for lousy rain gear. I went hypothermic, and I had the shakes until 4:00 the following morning. It made for a good story, and the rest of that trip was epic. Down to Cabo, back up to La Paz, on the overnight ferry over to Mazatlan, out to Puerto Vallarta and Guadalajara, back up to Nogales, and a thousand-mile one-day dash to make it home on New Year’s Eve. Wouldn’t trade a second of it.
Riding with Marty on the ’05 Three Flags Classic, we were caught in a downpour the second day out as we rode along the Dolores River in Colorado. It was a magnificent ride, with Marty on his K1200RS and me on my 1200cc Daytona. It wasn’t a drizzle. It was a downpour, just like you see in the video above. I remember it vividly, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Colombia had lots of rain, but it only hit us hard on the very first day. It was raining hard that first morning as we rode out of Medellin and into the Andes early on that fine Colombian morning, but it lightened up by breakfast. I had real rain gear and the only issues were visibility and passing 22-wheelers on blind curves, as my Colombian riders did with gleeful abandon. Exciting times. But good times, and certainly ones I remember. Colombia was an adventure for the ages. I wouldn’t trade a second of it for anything else.
I’d have to say the heaviest rains I ever rode through were in China, where it rains a lot. It probably rained 25% of the time on that trip, and the first few days were the worst. Imagine riding up into the Tibetan Plateau, in the dark, on dirt roads, in rain way heavier than what you see in the video above. That’s what it was like, and I loved every mile of that ride. I wouldn’t trade it for anything else on the planet.
You might be wondering…why no photos? Well, the simple truth is that my cameras on each trip were tightly wrapped in plastic bags, and I wasn’t about to break them out in the rain. That’s something I guess I forgot to mention in my earlier blog about what to bring on a Baja trip: Garbage bags. They take up almost no space when you’re not using them, and they work great for keeping stuff dry when you ride in the rain.
As an avid motorcyclist it’s easy to appreciate the beauty in each state and for many riders discovering amazing roads that many would overlook can become second nature to us. Some might even say it’s an art form. Throughout this vast and beautiful country called the United States of America we are fortunate enough to have a plethora of both paved and dirt roads that are meant to be sought out like the Ark of the Covenant. These roads are meant to be experienced intimately the only way they can be, on two wheels. Experiencing them on a motorcycle can become a thirst that is never quenched, and although each state has its own unique characteristics, ultimately some will stand out more than others. One state that has that effect for me is Colorado.
Colorado is one of those states that as soon as you ride past the “Welcome to Colorful Colorado” sign the roads seem to present themselves to you like a feast on a golden platter with an endless amount of wine. The rides we will review can each be completed in one or two days and are best ridden between late April and early October. To help with prioritization since there are so many incredible rides we have developed a very complex mathematical rating system of 1 to 5 wheelies (5 being the highest). The rating uses the following criteria:
Road conditions
Diversity of riding options
Activities along the route
Abilities to disperse camp/hotel access
Scenery
Route 550: The Million Dollar Highway
Rated 5 Wheelies
Road Description. This loop may be one of the greatest roads in all of North America. The road is paved and in immaculate condition. It combines some of the tightest switchbacks one can expect to experience on a motorcycle. The full route per the map is ~355 miles and can be done in 1 day, but highly recommend taking at least 2-4 to fully experience and immerse yourself in this beautiful part of the country. There are endless forest roads off 550 to get your fill of dirt riding littered with an infinite amount of beautiful dispersed campsites. Also some wonderful old mining towns rich with history, hiking, restaurants, hotels, and hot springs.
Points of Interest. There’s no shortage of amazing places to stop along this road. Below is a small list of the places you should not miss along this route.
Silverton is a great little mining town with wonderful people. It’s a perfect place to load up on supplies if you are camping. You can warm up after getting some miles in at the Brown Bear Café.
Ouray is a beautiful mountain town with several hikes to waterfalls, hot springs, and some wonderful restaurants. My favorite is the Ouray Brewery.
Rico is a really tiny town which consists of a great hotel and bar called the Enterprise Bar and Grill, with wonderful people, great food and cold beer.
Where to Stay/Camp. There is an immense amount of national forest land that can be used to camp on along this loop. Really any dirt road you ride down will guide you to an epic campsite next to a creek. This makes for a relaxing post ride time to wind down in a hammock, while having a refreshing beverage. The towns of Silverton and Ouray have several hotels that are right in the heart of the town and a short walk to tourist activities and restaurants.
Off-Roading. There is an endless amount of dirt roads to find here, this goes from flat well-groomed forest roads to find a campsite to the technical challenging mountain passes like Engineer or Imogene Pass (which I have not done due to the size of my GS1200 and conservative riding style).
Out of so many outstanding rides in the state of Colorado, the Million Dollar Highway should be on the top of any list. This road and area really earn that 5 Wheelie rating due to exceeding each standard for riders of all ability levels. There are so many sights to see along this route that you will never tire of absorbing the beauty that surrounds you in this part of the state. If you are fortunate enough to have the time, doing the loop in reverse can be a great way to add a few more days to your adventure.
Mesa Verde National Park
Rated 5 Wheelies
Road Description. As soon as you enter Mesa Verde National Park the road begins screaming up in elevation with some incredible views overlooking the valley below you will almost have a sense of vertigo overcome you. What is wonderful about this feeling as it goes on and on as you travel through the park. Although the distance from the park entrance to the furthest point is only 28 miles, those miles are filled with numerous overlooks and pullouts that can make this seemingly short ride take 2-3 days. This is especially true if you are taking in the hikes along the way. The only piece of concern for this ride is the numerous road snakes in some areas of this ride. Otherwise its full enjoyment as you have a 360 view of the valleys below that outstretch clear into Utah, New Mexico, and Arizona.
Points of Interest. Since this is a National Park there are ample amounts of short hikes and tours to break up the day(s) you spend in this magical location. A few of the more popular ones are outlined below:
The Cliff Palace requires purchasing a tour ticket at Park Visitor Center, but even without one you can walk to the overlook to get a spectacular view of the houses the Hopi built into the cliffs which are all but hidden except from this vantage point.
The Balcony House also requires a tour ticket but is well worth it as you can walk through the ruins and really get a sense of the
The Knife’s Edge Hike is a great 2-mile hike with little elevation next to Morefield Campground that has incredible sunset views, which enable the rocks to really light up and glow.
Where to Stay/Camp. Morefield Campground- This is the only campground in the park so making reservations ahead of time is recommended. It is one of the better National Park campgrounds I have stayed at and includes free showers, great Wi-Fi from most campsites (antennas are off the bathrooms), and a launderette, gas, and fully stocked store for all your camping and souvenir needs. There are also several wonderful hiking trails right next to the campground.
Off-Roading. This is one of the drawbacks of a National Park, as there is no off-roading permitted within the park boundaries. The beauty and activities from hiking and riding makes up for this shortcoming.
Route 65: Grand Mesa Scenic Byway
Rated 5 Wheelies
Road Description. Yet another beautiful Colorado mountain road filled with switchbacks that rise in elevation and bring you to over 10,000 feet up and onto the World’s largest Mesa. There are several pullouts along this route to take in the views, but no gas stations from Cedaredge to Mesa (50 miles, but can be close to 100 miles if you are doing the off-road portion) plan accordingly.
Points of Interest. The main point of interest the mesa itself and the amazing views, alpine lakes, dispersed camping, and off-roading.
The Wagon Wheel Restaurant and Motel is a great place to stop for a beverage and a burger for lunch, charge your equipment and take a breather.
Where to Stay/Camp. Dispersed camping is plentiful along Rte125 where you can get a lakeside campsite with little issue and make it your own paradise for the evening as you watch the sunset glistening off one of the many alpine lakes. There are also plenty of campgrounds along this way if you are looking for less primitive camping. Hotels are scattered along this route in the towns of Delta, Mesa, or driving to up Grand Junction for a greater variety of lodging.
Off-Roading. Route 125 Surface Creek Road is a great 15-mile loop. This road has you experience the mesa while passing crystal clear alpine lakes with numerous dispersed camping areas. There is also a 10-mile dirt road in great condition to visit the Lands’ End Observatory. The views off the mesa looking down on the plateau can allow you to see into Utah on a clear day with awe inspiring views.
Route 141: Grand Junction to Naturita
Rated 4.5 Wheelies
Road Description. This is a low elevation beautifully paved road that is 105 miles long. This road will have you leaning your ride until you feel the mist kissing your windshield from Dolores River as you pass amazing rust colored mesas that stretch into the sky and rival that of Monument Valley. The road has very little traffic which will allow you to enjoy some solitude as you embrace the scenery you ride through. The only reason this route is rated as 4.5 is the lack of amenities.
Points of Interest. This road is in quite a desolate area, outside the tiny town of Gateway. Gateway Canyons General Store is owned and run by the preacher of the church next door to it. This is the only place to gas up between Grand Junction and Naturita so be sure to check your fuel levels.
Where to Stay/Camp. Dispersed camping here is plentiful but mainly in one area just south of Grand Junction, Divide Road. This road is a steep switchback dirt road that connects to numerous other roads which are great fun exploring for campsites to settle down in. There are numerous dispersed sites with beautiful views over the canyon in which you can see the Dolores River running far beneath you.
Off-Roading. Divide Road also encompasses numerous off-roading opportunities that sprawl out across this mesa. This is a perfect place to explore for that unique dispersed campsite while hitting some fun dirt to enhance your day. There are however areas of slippery clay, so if it is raining it can become slick in portions of this road.
Routes 160 and 149: Pagosa Springs to Lake City
Rated 4 Wheelies
Road Description. This route consists of 45 miles of a four-lane highway on Route 160 that will have you summit at over 10,000 feet. The road will then drop you into South Fork, Colorado. This is where you will turn left onto Route 149. Route 149 will quickly whittle down to a tighter and quieter road for the next 75 miles, which are filled with mountain passes. South Fork is the only town between these areas so make sure you gas up and grab lunch before heading onto the second part of this amazing road. The next portion will have you speeding across lower elevation prairies and then climbing high into the mountain tundra that will resemble something from another planet before descending into Lake City.
Points of Interest. I specifically wanted this trip to begin (or end) in Pagosa Springs so you have an opportunity to experience the hot springs in Pagosa.
There are free hot springs you can visit called Hippy Dippy Hot Springs, but I highly recommend taking an afternoon and enjoying the springs at the resort.
The Mountain Pizza and Tap Room is a perfect place for a great pizza prior to starting on the second part of this ride in South Fork.
Where to Stay/Camp. Throughout the ride there is no shortage of camping in both dispersed and paid locations. In Pagosa there are numerous hotels. I prefer the hotel directly across the street from the spa as it is much more affordable then the spa and in a great location. For Lake City, the Matterhorn is a beautiful Swiss style motel which will allow you a solid night’s sleep at a great price. It’s a perfect spot to recharge if you are going to take on some of the more challenging off-road portions in Colorado the following day.
Off-Roading. Lake City is the starting point for some of the more serious off-roading mountain passes, such as a few of the most popular passes including Cinnamon and Engineer. Both of these passes surpass 12,000 feet. If you crave technical off-roading challenges with views that can’t be beat, these are the two passes I recommend.
Conclusions
Southern Colorado is a rider’s paradise, and a region that should not be missed for riders of all experience levels. Other avid motorcyclists have also recommended these roads to me, which reinforces my approval for these routes and motivated me to write this comprehensive layout to help others. I hope this breakout has been helpful and serves as a reason to visit Southern Colorado and have the riding experience of a lifetime.
I like that title. Geezy Rider. It kind of says it all. A close runner up was “You might be a geezer if…”
We haven’t blogged a listicle in a while and I thought it was time. Sue and I like to entertain and we had three couples over for dinner recently. Everyone was our age (which is a nice way of saying we are all geezers), we all came from similar backgrounds, we all have grandkids, and we all travel. Those commonalities notwithstanding, the conversation centered on the same topic it always seems to center on these days when I’m with my geezer buddies: Getting old. Some of you might be thinking that you don’t want to read about old people, but you might already be one. So how do you know? Well, here we go. You might be a geezer if:
You get senior discounts without asking. When you do ask for the senior discount, no one asks to see your ID. You sometimes find yourself thinking that 55 is too young to be considered a senior citizen.
A good night’s sleep is based on how many times you had to get up to take a leak, you wonder how in the world taking a leak on the side of the road ever became a sex crime, or you plan rides at least partly based on restroom locations.
You know more doctors than motorcycle dealers, and you have a different doctor for each organ in your body. Sometimes you realize you can’t make a planned ride because you have a doctor’s appointment that day.
You look at other people at a motorcycle event and think they’re really old, and then you realize you’re the same age as they are.
You’re on a first name basis with the Costco people who give out free samples.
You can identify pills without seeing the bottle, a day on the bike is routinely preceded by a couple of Ibuprofens, and you have a pill container organized by day. Forget penicillin; you know that Sildenafil and Tamsulosin are the true wonder drugs.
You no longer use a tail pack or have a sissy bar because it’s easier to get on and off your motorcycle. You may have pondered where to attach a cane on your motorcycle.
You buy motorcycle clothes a couple of sizes larger because the damn manufacturers are making them smaller these days. You buy riding gear with pockets big enough to hold baby wipes. You substituted food for sex years ago and now you’re so fat you can’t get into your own pants.
You stopped worrying about helmet hair decades ago and when you get a haircut you find yourself thinking about the cost in terms of dollars per hair. You haven’t carried a comb in decades.
You watch news shows based mostly on which ones you don’t shout at.
A motorcycle’s weight is more important to you than 0-to-60 or quarter-mile times. You and your buddies talk about cholesterol, A1C, PSA levels, and medications instead of motorcycle performance specs.
When it’s time to change your oil, you think about where it’s going to hurt the next day because you have to get down on the floor to reach the drain plug. Ibuprofen is a normal part of your oil change equipment.
You don’t think there’s anything particularly wrong with a motorcycle in a handicap parking spot.
You don’t like to ride after dark and going to bed by 9:00 p.m. seems like a perfectly normal thing to do.
Easy Riders or The Great Escape is on TV, and you don’t even need to think about it. You’re going to watch it again.
A new movie stars Clint Eastwood, you know you’re going to see it, and you don’t need to know what it is about to make that decision.
So there you have it: My take on how to assess if you are a geezer.
We were a swarm of 250cc bees bound for Medicine Bow, Wyoming. I didn’t know why that excited me and I didn’t know what to expect, but the place sounded romantic. Not romantic in the sense of female companionship; it was instead the romance of the Old West. Medicine Bow, Wyoming, and we were headed there on our single-cylinder Zongshen motorcycles. We had been on the road for a week, showing the American West to our Chinese and Colombian visitors. It all started on the other side of the world in Chongqing when Zongshen asked if I could take them on a ride though America.
Wow, could I ever.
Susie took this photo as I was showing the Zongshen execs where we might ride in America. The guy on my immediate right is good buddy Fan, who follows the ExNotes blog.
Medicine Bow. It had a nice ring to it. I was thinking maybe they had a McDonald’s and we could have lunch there. I think the reason Medicine Bow sounded so intriguing is I had heard it maybe dozens of times in western movies and television shows. Medicine Bow was one of the major destinations for cattle drives in the 1800s, where cows boarded trains for their one-way trip east, where they would stop being cows and become steaks. An average of 2,000 cows shipped out of Medicine Bow every day back then. That would keep McDonald’s going for a day or two (except there were no McDonald’s in the 1800s).
The very first western novel.
I was surprised when we buzzed in. Medicine Bow is about five buildings, total, none of them was a McDonald’s, but one was the Virginian Hotel. It’s the hotel you see in the photo at the top of this blog and as you might imagine there’s a story to it. You see, back in the day, the first western novel ever was written by a dude named Owen Wister, and the title of his book was The Virginian. It was later made into a movie. The story is about a young female schoolteacher who settled in Medicine Bow and two cowboys who vied for her attention. When the historic hotel was later built in Medicine Bow, what other name could be more appropriate than The Virginian? And about the name of the town, Medicine Bow? Legend has it that Native Americans found the best mahogany for making bows (as in bows and arrows) in a bend (a bow) along the Medicine River, which runs through the area. I can’t make up stuff this good.
I was the designated leader of the Zongshen swarm on this ride. My job was easy. All the mental heavy lifting and deep thinking fell to good buddy and long-time riding compañero Baja John, who planned our entire 5,000-mile journey through the American West. John did a hell of a job. The roads he selected were magnificent and the destinations superb. It’s also when I first met Joe Gresh, who was on assignment from Motorcyclist magazine to cover our story (more on that in a bit).
Big Joe Gresh, or “Arjiu” as the Chinese called him, on our 5000-mile ride through the American West.
Back to Medicine Bow, the Virginian Hotel, and a few of the photos I grabbed on that ride. The place is awesome, and the Virginian is where we had lunch.
Lunch at the Virginian. That’s Gresh on the right, and Juan and Gabe (two dudes from AKT Motos in Colombia) on the left. A few months later I rode with Juan in Colombia, another grand adventure.
After lunch, we wandered around the hotel for a bit. It would be fun to spend the night in Medicine Bow, I thought. Dinner at the hotel and drinks in the bar (as I type this, I can almost hear someone on the piano belting out Buffalo Gal). I will return some day to check that box.
The lighting isn’t great in this selfie (of sorts). Yours truly on the old D200, Lester, and Mr. Zuo. Lester is a teacher in China. Mr. Zuo owns a motorcycle jacket company in China.Bison. We saw a few live ones in the next couple of days.Who’s a good boy? That’s Baja John and Lester, taking a break after a great lunch at the Virginian Hotel. Lester came to America as a vegetarian. That lasted about two days. He sure enjoyed his hamburger at the Virginian. He told us he wants to be like Baja John when he grows up.Yes, there are moose in Medicine Bow, along with mountain lion, bear, elk, deer, and a host of other animals. Theodore Roosevelt hunted this part of the world.A Virginian Hotel hallway. I think you can still stay here overnight.Hotel hallway art.Even a public telephone.
The Virginian Hotel bar was indeed inviting and I could have spent more time there, but we were on the bikes and my rule is always no booze on the bikes. I grabbed a few photos. We had more miles to make that afternoon and more of Wyoming awaited.
The Virginian Hotel bar. It looks like it would be a fun spot to have a beer or three at the end of the day.Photos and artifacts on one of the Virginian Bar walls.A mural in the Virginian Hotel bar
The Virginian Hotel owner (who looked like he could have been someone right out of Central Casting) saw our interest in photography and showed us this photograph. He told me only six or seven copies of it exist. Spend a minute reading the writing…it is amazing.
There are more than a few interesting characters depicted in this photo.
Medicine Bow was a fun visit, it is a place I would like to see again, and it has a palpable feel of the Old West. It was a place where we could have stayed longer, but after lunch it was time for Happy Trails and we were on the road again. I felt like a cowboy, I suppose, swinging my leg over my motorcycle. Instead of “giddy up” it was a twist of the key and a touch on the starter button; the result was the same as we continued our trek west with Frankie Lane’s Rawhide on repeat in my mind: Keep rollin’, rollin’ rollin’, keep those motos rollin’…
In a few hours, we’d be riding into the sunset. Lord, this was a fantastic ride.
Here are a couple of videos you might like. The first is about Medicine Bow, the second is Joe Gresh’s video covering the ride. And one more thing…don’t miss Joe Gresh’s magnificent story about our ride in Motorcyclist magazine.
I recently purchased a copy of Elspeth Beard’s Lone Rider, the story of a woman riding her BMW around the world in the early 1980s. To give you the bottom line up front: You need to buy and read this book. It’s that good.
I first became a fan of around the world motorcycle stories back in the early 1990s when I read Dave Barr’s Riding the Edge (another excellent read). I think I’ve read all or nearly all of the books in this genre, and I’ve written reviews on several (I’ll provide a set of links at the end of this blog). Some are these books are outstanding, others are truly terrible, and most are somewhere in between. Lone Rider firmly belongs in the outstanding category.
Picture this: A young British woman in her early 20s decides to ride her 600cc BMW around the world, and with no sponsors and nothing in the way of a support network, she does so. By herself. On some of the worst roads, most hostile regions, and least friendly environments on the planet. On a street bike, for which she fashioned her own panniers and top case. This was before you could buy a ready-made ADV bike.
It took Ms. Beard a couple of years to complete the journey, partly because she had to stop and work to fund the trip. I was captivated by her story, appalled by the way she was treated in a couple of places, and saddened by what I would describe as a surprise discovery decades after the ride ended.
Lone Rider is well written and well organized. The chapters are about the right length (I read one or two chapters each night before lights out), the photos are good, and the writing is superior. Prior to reading Lone Rider, I always thought I wanted to visit and photograph India; the book disabused me of that notion. I never had any desire to own a BMW motorcycle; the book convinced me that I had that one right.
At 336 pages, Lone Rider is substantive and I found it hard to put down. It really is a masterpiece of motoliterature. If you’re looking for your next good motorcycle book, Lone Rider is it. Trust me on this one.
That’s me that I’m talking about in the title of this blog and the story is a Riding China excerpt. Joe Gresh and I rode with a group of Chinese riders on a 38-day motorcycle ride around China. This is a small part of it describing the ride into Beijing.
Gresh, King Kong, and yours truly in China. I’m the bugeyed old bastard on the right (after the swelling subsided).
Traffic was moving but it was heavy, and Chinese drivers in cars do not respect motorcycles. If they want to occupy your spot on the road, they just move over. It’s not that they don’t see you; they just don’t care. You’re a motorcycle. They’re a car. They know who’s going to win. At very low speeds in city traffic, you can scream at them or maneuver away or stop. At freeway speeds if you don’t get out of the way, you’re a hood ornament or a big wet spot on the asphalt. Our Chinese riders’ propensity to ride on the shoulder all the time suddenly made sense to me.
On a quiet road in China. China has delightful country roads and modern freeways. We weren’t supposed to take our motorcycles on the freeways, but we didn’t do too well with rules. We literally rode thousands of miles, all of it illegal, on Chinese freeways.
It was dark well before we reached our hotel that night and we had to ride about 45 minutes or so after the sun set. The Asian-configuration RX3 headlight is not very bright (our US bikes are much better), and to make a bad situation worse, as I have mentioned before I don’t see too well in the dark. To see a little better that night, I lifted my visor. Even though it was a clear visor it still has a slight tint to it and when I lift it at night I can see better.
In the motorcycle world, there’s another term that’s similar to ATGATT (you know, all the gear, all the time). It’s “visor down.” What it means is that you should keep your helmet visor down all the time. The reason is obvious: You don’t want to get whacked in the eye with whatever is floating in the air. That night, I proved that “visor down” makes sense. I caught a bug smack in my right eyeball. It hurt immediately, but I could still see. At that point, I put the visor down, but it was a classic case of closing the barn door after the horse got away.
We arrived at the hotel about 20 minutes later. I was tired and cranky. I went to my hotel room in a blue funk. Gresh tried to calm me down, but he was fighting a losing battle. “We have a couple of good rolls of toilet paper in this room,” he said. That was a good point and it was definitely something to be happy about, but it didn’t help me feel any better.
I really didn’t want to eat dinner that night, but I decided that bagging dinner would be too rude. So I went and I sat next to Sean. After some small talk, he noticed my eye. He was shocked. I had not seen myself in the mirror and I guess it looked pretty bad. My eye wasn’t white anymore; it was mostly red and swollen. Okay, I’ve been whacked in the eye by bugs before. I knew it would be red and it would bug me (pardon the pun) for a couple of days, and then it would be okay.
Yep, that Great Wall.
We rode through the countryside the next day to see the Great Wall at another location, but I still wasn’t over being upset and cranky from the night before. When I lead rides in the US or in Mexico that last for more than a weekend, there’s usually one guy in the group that will get cranky at some point. I had thought about that before this ride and I realized that on a ride lasting over five weeks someone would get to that point. I just didn’t think that guy would be me. But it was. I was tired, my eye was jacked up, and the stress of watching out for Chinese drivers was getting to me.
Dong drifting toward Beijing.
The next morning, I missed grabbing a good photo because of that. We were riding to see the Great Wall at a different location. On a lightly-traveled mountain road on a curve, we all stopped and Dong intentionally laid his RX1 on its side in the middle of the lane. He got on the bike with his knee out and had one of the other guys photograph him from the front (to make it look like the bike was leaned way over in the corner and he was dragging his knee). I think nearly everyone got their photo on the bike, but I declined. I just wasn’t in the mood. I think Dong knew I wanted that photo, though, and after I had returned to the US, he emailed a copy to me. (It’s the photo you see above.)
When we got to the Great Wall that morning it involved a considerable hike up a steep hill to get close enough to touch it. I’ve done that on prior visits, so I didn’t want to do it that day. Four of us opted to wait while the rest of the guys made the hike. It was relaxing. Wong, Zuo, Furem, and I shared a bag of peanuts Sean had left in his car while we waited for the others to return.
As we were riding back to the hotel from that location, heading downhill through the mountains the same way we had ridden in, I started slowing down. I didn’t realize it at first, but eventually I was the last guy in our formation. Then I started riding even more slowly, until the rest of the guys were so far ahead of me I couldn’t see them. My eye was still bothering me and by now I was having some problems seeing well. To add fuel to that fire, my left shoulder was hurting (I have a pinched nerve somewhere in there and it bothers me on long motorcycle rides).
But there was more to what I was feeling than just what I described above. Something was going on. I suppose a shrink would call it an anxiety attack. I was driving around every twist in the road expecting to see a truck stopped in my lane, an oncoming truck passing another vehicle in my lane, a person sweeping the street in the middle of the turn in my lane, a guy pulling out right in front of me, a bus making a U-turn in front of me, a car cornering too hard drifting into my lane, someone going the wrong way in my lane, someone pulling into my lane without looking, an old woman walking directly in front of me, people stopping to have a conversation in the middle of the street, or someone squatting down to take a dump (in my lane, of course). On this trip, I had seen all of what I just described and more. What was happening that morning was the enormity of the insanity that is riding a motorcycle in China caught up with me. Yeah, it was an anxiety attack. The nuttiness of it all, my vulnerability being on a motorcycle, and my inability to do anything about it was suddenly overwhelming.
The guys were waiting for me at the next intersection, and from there we went to a Sinopec gas station to refuel the bikes. It was hotter than hell. I guess it was fair to say I was miserable. I was still feeling all of this accumulated anxiety when a guy in a black Mercedes starting blasting his horn at me in that gas station parking lot. He didn’t want to drive around me; he wanted me to move even though there was plenty of room for him to go around. It was more of the “I’m a car, you’re a motorcycle” bullshit that is pervasive in China.
I don’t know what came over me, but I think I just got supremely tired of being the vulnerable victim. I looked directly at that Mercedes driver. I made eye contact. He looked at me, not realizing I was here with eight other guys on motorcycles. I eased the clutch out until my bike was directly alongside his window (which was open). I then leaned on my horn and let it rip for a good solid 20 seconds. Then one of the other Chinese riders watching me did the same, and yet another yelled a really bad word at the Mercedes (which he probably learned from either Gresh or me). It was pretty funny, especially hearing that kind of profanity with a Chinese accent. The guy in the Mercedes had screwed with the wrong Marine on the wrong day. Without realizing it, he took on the Wild Angels that hot afternoon just outside of Beijing. He suddenly and fully realized what might happen as a result of his boorishness. He rolled up his window, he averted his eyes, and he backed his big black Mercedes respectfully away from us. That broke the spell. I wasn’t helpless any more. I felt amazingly better.
Okay, enough about me being a butthead: On to Beijing proper. We stopped at the Beijing Zongshen dealer that afternoon (where they were expecting us) and it was the Dajiu and Arjiu show all over again.
Gresh presenting a vest to a Zongshen rider. They thought we were celebrities.
There were the usual tons of photos with Gresh and me. Hey, how often do Dajiu and Arjiu show up in your neighborhood? Tracy told us the dealer had just sold five new RX1s. He wanted to have a ceremony in which we gave the keys and Zongshen fluorescent vests to the five lucky guys who had purchased the bikes. I was feeling my old self again. I saw an opportunity and I took it.
“We’ll do it this time, Tracy,” I said, “but if you don’t start doing a better job getting these dealers prepped it will be the last time.” Tracy doesn’t always know when I’m teasing him. I could tell that this was going to be one of those times. Gresh picked up on it, too.
“Yeah!” Gresh said. Joe sometimes has a way with words.
“What is wrong, Dajiu?” Tracy asked, concern and maybe a little fear showing in his eyes.
“Where’s the watermelon?” I said. “We’re supposed to have watermelon waiting for us at each dealer visit,” I said.
Joe Gresh on a Zongshen motorcycle and his contractually-mandated chilled watermelon.
“Yeah,” Gresh added, “and it’s supposed to be chilled, too.”
“It’s right there in Section 6, Paragraph 3.2 of the Dajiu and Arjiu contract,” I said, “and there’s no cold watermelon here, Tracy!” (I don’t think I need to mention this for my readers, but I will just in case you were wondering, there is no such thing as a Dajiu and Arjiu contract, let alone any paragraphs about cold watermelon.)
“Ah, I am so sorry,” Tracy said. “It is my bad, Dajiu. I am so sorry.” Then he turned to Gresh, and addressing him as Arjiu, he said the same thing.
“Tracy, relax,” I said. “I’m just screwing with you.” But it was too late. Tracy heard me tell him I was joking, but it didn’t register.
We had a great ceremony and we had fun taking photos and giving those five proud new RX1 owners oversized Styrofoam keys and then their real keys. It was one of the most fun things I did on this entire trip. As we were doing so, I could see Tracy (who had left and returned) slicing several large (and delightfully cold) watermelons on a table in front of the showroom. Hey, a contract’s a contract.
The Beijing dealer had an RZ3, Zongshen’s naked sportbike, parked in front. Gresh was really impressed. I took photos of it and put them on the CSC blog that night, but I couldn’t tell you then what you now know to be the case: CSC is going to bring the RZ3 to North America. I like the RZ3 a lot. It’s essentially the RC3 with a normal seating position and upright bars without the RC3’s bodywork. We’re going to sell a lot of RZ3s. The RZ3 has the RX3 powertrain, and that’s both bulletproof and fast. I already have ideas on how I’m going to customize mine.
When we got off the subway after visiting The Forbidden City, we waited on a street corner for our Uber ride back to the hotel. I watched the scooters and small utility vehicles rolling by, and I realized that nearly every one of them was electric. I must have seen 200 scooters during the 20 minutes we waited, and perhaps 2 had gasoline engines. This wholesale adaption of electric scooters and small utility vehicles in China is nothing short of amazing.
An electric scooter in China.
Sean explained to me that the transition to electric vehicles started about 15 years ago, and the government has done a number of things to encourage people to convert to electricity. For starters (once again, pardon my pun), many of the larger cities in China now prohibit motorcycles and scooters unless the vehicle is electric. Electric scooters are allowed where gasoline-powered bikes are not. That alone is an enormous incentive. The next incentive is that you don’t need a driver’s license to take an electric vehicle on the street. You just buy one and go. And finally, as I’ve mentioned before, electricity is cheap in China. There are windfarms, solar panel farms, coal plants, nuclear power plants, and hydroelectric power plants all over the country. We saw scooters parked on the sidewalk and plugged into extension cords running into small stores everywhere. People charge them like iPhones; they didn’t miss any opportunity to top off the batteries on these things.
That night was a great night. The Zongshen dealer took us to a restaurant that specialized in Peking duck. The guys were excited about this development, but I was initially leery. I thought I didn’t like Peking duck. Boy, was I ever wrong!
I tried Peking duck 25 years ago when I visited Beijing with Sue. We both thought the duck was awful. That’s because we went to a restaurant that served tourists. The food at that place didn’t have to be good. They knew they would never see us again, and Yelp hadn’t been invented yet.
This night in Beijing with the Zongshen dealer and the RX3 owners club was different. The Peking duck was incredible. The chef sliced it paper thin right at our table. They had thin tofu (almost like a crepe), and the guys taught me how to eat duck properly. The deal is you put a few fresh vegetables on the tofu, you add a slice or two of duck, you add this amazing brown gravy, and then you roll the affair up like a burrito. Wow, it was delicious!
Peking Duck, done the way it is supposed to be done, in a Beijing restaurant. It was exquisite. Photo by King Kong.
We had several rounds of toasts at dinner that night and the liquor flowed freely. I got lucky. Kong sat next to me and he schooled me in the proper way to make a Chinese toast. To show respect, you clink your glass against the other guy’s glass, but you hold your glass at a lower level so that when the two glasses meet, the rim of yours is lower than the other person’s. When the Zongshen dealer toasted me, I followed Kong’s advice, and the Chinese riders all nodded approvingly. Ah, Dajiu knows.
It was funny. Sergeant Zuo and I had made several toasts to each other, and when we touched glasses, we both tried frantically to get our glasses lower than the other, so much so that we usually crashed the bottoms of both on the table (to a hearty laugh and round of applause from everyone). Zuo was being polite; I was being completely serious (I have enormous respect for him).
The next day we took the subway into Beijing. We already were in Beijing when we got on the subway, but Beijing is a megacity and you can’t simply drive into the center of it. We rode the subway for a good 45 minutes, and when we emerged, we visited the Forbidden City and Tien An Men Square. It was all grand. It was touristy, but it’s something that should be on any China visitor’s bucket list.
After seeing the Forbidden City, we walked around downtown Beijing for a while. I told Tracy my eye was getting worse and I wanted to get antibiotic eye drops for it. It was Sunday afternoon, but there was a large pharmacy right in front of us and it was open. Tracy went in with me and he told one of the young pharmacists what I wanted. She responded and it didn’t sound good.
“She cannot sell it to you without a prescription,” he told me.
“Well, shoot, Tracy, it’s Sunday afternoon,” I said. “We’re not going to find a doctor. I’ll be okay. Let’s just go.”
“No, it is okay, Dajiu,” he said. “We are China and we have a bureaucracy. It is my bad.”
Good old Tracy, I thought. The guy felt responsible for everything. I was resigned to the fact that my eye was going to take a while to get better. Tracy, in the meantime, had walked not more than 8 feet away to an elderly woman sitting at a wooden table. He spoke to her in Chinese and pointed to me. She never looked at me, nor did she look up. She simply pulled out a white pad with a big “R” at the top. Nah, this can’t be, I thought. She wrote something in Chinese characters and handed the slip to Tracy.
“Our prescription,” Tracy said. “Such a bureaucracy.” He walked the three steps back to the pharmacist, Tracy handed her the prescription, and 30 seconds (and 24 yuan, or about $4) later, I had my antibiotic eye drops. I put two drops in my eye. When we rode out of Beijing the next morning, my eye was good as new.
Like the above story? Want more? Pick up your copy of Riding China!
The New Year hits tonight. The years keep rolling by and it’s time for my 2024 resolutions. I’ve made a few, and with your indulgence, I’ll share them here.
I’m going to continue to hold my tongue (and my keyboard) on all things political. I’ve never seen anyone read a social media post or a blog or listen to someone with an opposing viewpoint and suddenly exclaim, “ah, now I understand…of course you’re right, and I was wrong all along…” Nope, the era of intelligent political discourse ended in the 1960s with the Vietnam War protests. Back then, and now, everyone is convinced their opinion is the only true path. I’m never going to call anyone ever again a leftwing idiot or a rightwing idiot, partly because of this resolution and partly because I hate being redundant.
I’m going to stop getting upset with people at the gym tying up machines while screwing around on their cell phones. Nope, you can sit on a machine and text to your heart’s content. I’ll just move on to another piece of equipment. Someday, though, when you’re standing in front of the Pearly Gates, you’ll have to answer. And I’ll be there. Just in case there are any questions.
I’m going to lose weight. The answer is to use that calorie tracker on my cell phone and exercise. Really. This time I mean it. I want to be skinny like Gresh.
I’m going to cook more, but in line with the resolution above I’ll eat less. I do a great barbequed salmon, a marvelous Italian meat sauce, delicious stuffed shells, a wonderful chili, incredible stuffed peppers, a great wild pork sausage and mushrooms casserole, tasty chicken tostadas, and a few others. I want to try making my own chile rellenos this year and find at least three more dishes to add to my repertoire.
I’m going to sell a few guns. I own too many to enjoy and more than a few that I don’t shoot. It’s time to convert these investments into cash and let others have some fun.
I’m going to ride my motorcycle and my bicycle more. I’ve slowed down on my riding quite a bit in the last three years. Part of it is the pandemic…law enforcement on our public roads has dropped to nearly nothing, and there are too many people driving like maniacs out there…speeding, weaving in and out of traffic, and screwing around on their cell phones. I’ve been hit by cars twice in my life while on two wheels (once on a motorcycle and once on a bicycle), and I don’t care to add a third bone-breaking event to my resume. But I haven’t been riding enough and I want to get out and ride. Get my knees in the breeze. You know the feeling.
It’s time to put more pork on the table. I’m going to do at least two hunts in 2024. One will be a varmint hunt for coyotes in Arizona with Baja John; the other will be a pig hunt with my 6.5 Creedmoor (location to be determined). If you’re a vegetarian or fundamentally opposed to hunting, you have my permission to skip any blogs I write about these events.
I’m not going to buy any more watches. I came across Segal’s Law last year, which holds that a man with a watch knows what time it is, but a man with many watches is never sure. I’m the guy who’s never sure, raised to an exponent.
I’m going to do Baja again, most likely in March so I can see the whales, eat a chile relleno in San Ignacio, and visit Javier at the La Casitas in Mulegé. I think Gresh wants to go, too. Maybe we’ll get our other ExNotes writers in on the action. You’ll read all about it here on ExNotes.
I’m retiring, for real this time. I’ll still write for the ExNotes blog and Motorcycle Classics magazine (I enjoy writing for both and I never viewed either as work), but I’m done with everything else. It’s time.
There you go…my 2024 resolutions. How about yours?
I mentioned Thai motorcycle taxis in an earlier blog, and on the way back from Wat Arun today, Sue and I grabbed a few photos just outside our hotel of young ladies riding moto taxis sidesaddle to points unknown (points unknown to me; they knew where they were going). It’s an interesting take on Thai life in the big city. I’d seen this moto taxi business in China 30 years ago, but not anymore. In China today, you just don’t see motorcycles in the big cities. And you sure don’t see anything like this in America.
The photography challenges were interesting. I couldn’t get close to the bikes (it was a wide and busy avenue in downtown Bangkok), the bikes were moving, and the lens didn’t have a lot of reach (it was the 18-55mm Nikon kit lens, an inexpensive lens not nearly as sharp as Nikon’s pricier offerings). I cranked the D3300 camera’s ISO up to 800 (even though I was shooting during the day) to get the shutter speed up (to freeze the action), and then I relied on Photoshop to do the rest (the rest being cropping, adjusting the levels and the curves, adjusting for shadows, adjusting vibrance and saturation, and finally after sizing the photo to the sizes you see here, adding a touch of sharpness. I think they came out well. Consider this photo from the above collection:
Here’s the original photo it came from before all the above adjustments:
If I had a bigger lens (say, a 300mm), I would have had a larger and sharper original photo, but as Donald Rumsfeld liked to say, you go to war with the Army you have. I had my 18-55mm lens with me. And I have Photoshop on my laptop.
I shot all of the photos above and a bunch more in the space of maybe five minutes (Bangkok’s Asok Street is a very busy street), and then I spent maybe another hour selecting the ones I wanted to use in this blog and Photoshopping them. You can have a lot of fun with a camera in Bangkok.
Regarding the safety implications of what you see above, what can I say? The riders had helmets. The passengers? Not so much. We weren’t not in Kansas anymore, Toto.
When is the perfect time to ride Sonora, Mexico? Any chance you get!
Fresh off a ride in Ecuador, I was itching to hop back on my Triumph Tiger GT Pro 900, fondly named Tippi, when my pal Destini (an ace adventure rider) suggested we hit up a rider’s event in Banamichi, Mexico. I did not hesitate for a second. Hell yeah, I’m in!
The first stop on our adventure was a pre-trip visit to Destini’s home in Bisbee, Arizona, an old mining town. Tombstone, a nearby a wine district, and plenty of riding were nearby to keep us busy. Our plan included riding to Agua Prieta, a quick ride from Bisbee, to sort out the next day’s border crossing. With our paperwork ready, we were back on the road aiming for the best tacos in Bisbee!
After enjoying a delicious meal of epic tacos, we gathered in front of the impressive motorcycle shrine at Destini’s (and her husband Jim’s) Moto Chapel. We officially christened Tippi by adding her name to the tank. The Moto Chapel, a vision brought to life by Jim, never fails to catch the attention of visitors. It is a small garage with a pitched roof, complete with air conditioning and even a bathroom. It’s a true paradise for gearheads and motorcycle enthusiasts alike.
On the road again, with Destini leading the charge on her GS 800 named Gracie, we breezed towards the border. Or should I say, Destini and Gracie breezed through, leaving Tippi and me oblivious to the inspection signal, which led to a comical episode of me doing my best to charm the officers while trying to avoid a bureaucratic whirlwind between the US and Mexico. With a little acting (okay, a touch of exaggerated age and frailty), we were back on the road and free as the wind.
We savored every moment— zooming down the desert open roads of Mexico’s Highway 17, enjoying the breathtaking mountain vistas and sweet tight twisties along Sonora Highway 89. That is, until we faced a water crossing. Destini, cool as ever, told me to keep my eyes up and just go for it. Turns out it was a breeze, but then she casually dropped a story about moss and a rider wipeout on a previous ride! Thanks for the heads-up, Destini…you did well telling me afterward!
Our destination was Banamichi, a charming town steeped in Opata indigenous culture and Spanish colonial history. Banamichi was a bustling trading hub, attracting merchants from far and wide. We strolled through its charming streets, greeted by well-preserved adobe houses adorned with vibrant colors and traditional architectural elements. The town’s rich cultural is evident in its festivals, art exhibitions, and handicrafts that highlight its residents’ talent and creativity.
We settled in at the Los Arcos Hotel, hosted by Tom and his lovely wife Linda. Their hospitality matched the hotel’s enchanting courtyard and old-world charm. The weekend whisked by in a blur of exhilarating rider tales, mingling with the aroma of delectable food and more than a few Mexican beers to ease the heat. The morning included a tour by the mayor, including the town square’s church.
Lunch that day included a visit to a small local ranchero for Bacanora tasting. Bacanora is akin to Mezcal, a beverage to enjoy while being careful about how much you are willing to partake! The tasting and lunch were a leisurely affair. We savored the flavors of this year’s Bacanora harvest while enjoying a laid-back lunch with regional dishes that appeared abundantly and effortlessly.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, evenings were a symphony of vibrant hues, margaritas, and captivating rhythms of Folklorico dance. Each of the dancers’s steps told a story—a mesmerizing tribute to Sonora’s rich cultural tapestry.
And as the second night ended, my mind buzzed with the tales of fellow riders and the warmth of the Bacanora nestled in my belly. The air hummed with laughter and camaraderie, each story adding another layer of adventure to the weekend’s memories.
Sunday morning heralded a poignant end to our short escapade—a bike blessing conducted by a local priest. It felt like a closing ceremony, encapsulating the spirit of our epic weekend. As we bid farewell to fellow riders, we reluctantly rode out of Banamichi. Its charms lingered, a reminder of the joy found exploring quaint towns. It was a weekend filled with epic riding, new friendships, and a gentle nudge to continue seeking such delightful adventures.
Nestled in southeastern Arizona, Bisbee offers a blend of history, natural beauty, and a spirited Wild West vibe along the Mexico border. My visit uncovered Bisbee’s charms and attractions, showcasing its unique character. It is one of my favorite motorcycle destinations.
Journeying from Sedona on my trusty Triumph Tiger 900 GT Pro (lovingly named Tippi), the route initially seemed uneventful. However, upon meeting up with Destini and Jim, ardent adventure riding enthusiasts and Bisbee locals, the town’s captivating charm began to unfurl. Wandering the streets, I was enchanted by the town’s distinctive ambiance—a delightful testament to its rich mining heritage interwoven with a vibrant, slightly hippie-ish community. Their adorable bungalow, nestled along the main street with its newfound motorcycle haven christened “Moto Chapel” provided a fitting sanctuary for our bikes.
Our foray into the local culinary scene led us to the Taqueria Outlaw, a haven for taco lovers. With serious discernment for authentic flavors, I reveled in the experience. It was a perfect harmony of a Mezcal Margarita complementing the tantalizing al pastor tacos, affirming Destini’s advice on the ultimate Bisbee taco spot. Slightly euphoric from our second Mezcal Margarita, we made our way along the main street, taking in the historic buildings constructed during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. This era was the town’s mining boom, and it resulted in construction of numerous buildings in the styles popular during that period: Victorian, Art Deco, and Craftsman. These gems have transformed Bisbee over the years into a destination with lodging, eateries, bars, art galleries, and shops.
I was reminded why I visit Bisbee often. The food and local architecture, the local history, and Bisbee’s proximity to other significant attractions make this a wonderful place to visit. Iconic and nearby Tombstone invites history buffs to take in legendary Wild West ambiance. For those who enjoy local wineries and tasting rooms, Arizona’s nearby wine district offers an opportunity to savor the region’s flavors. At the same time, the majestic Chiricahua Mountains’ breathtaking vistas and invigorating hikes entice visitors.
What sets Bisbee apart (beyond its history, the shops, and the food scene) is its extensive network of trails crisscrossing the area. Adventure enthusiasts will find their niche here, whether it be hiking, horseback riding, motorcycling, or mountain biking. Bisbee’s diverse terrain and surroundings cater to various skill levels, offering trails that promise memorable experiences amidst Arizona’s beautiful landscapes.
Whether a leisurely main street stroll or an exciting off-road expedition, Bisbee offers a range of adventures that leave a lasting mark on those exploring its diverse terrain.
If you are headed to Bisbee, here are a few of my favorite things:
Lodging
Jonquil Motel: Owned by adventure riders, this is a favorite place for both riders and non-riders. It’s my favorite for sure!
Bisbee Grand Hotel: Old west lodging at its finest!
Grub
Bisbee Breakfast Club: Hometown cooking with a diverse menu from biscuits and gravy to huevos rancheros.
The Copper Pig: One of Bisbee’s hidden dining gems.
The aforementioned, Taqueria Outlaw
Favorite Walk
The 1000 stair stroll. You will both feel the burn from all those steps and get a chance to meander through the historic neighborhoods!
You stopped worrying about helmet hair decades ago and when you get a haircut you find yourself thinking about the cost in terms of dollars per hair. You haven’t carried a comb in decades.
The photography challenges were interesting. I couldn’t get close to the bikes (it was a wide and busy avenue in downtown Bangkok), the bikes were moving, and the lens didn’t have a lot of reach (it was the 18-55mm Nikon kit lens, an inexpensive lens not nearly as sharp as Nikon’s pricier offerings). I cranked the D3300 camera’s ISO up to 800 (even though I was shooting during the day) to get the shutter speed up (to freeze the action), and then I relied on Photoshop to do the rest (the rest being cropping, adjusting the levels and the curves, adjusting for shadows, adjusting vibrance and saturation, and finally after sizing the photo to the sizes you see here, adding a touch of sharpness. I think they came out well. Consider this photo from the above collection:
