RIDING IN COLORADO

March, 1995

            When I moved my family to Colorado in February of '94, I was already convinced that I wouldn't be doing any riding in the winter.  After all, there was snow on the ground at the time and we were living at a friend's place that is two miles up a dirt road and only negotiable in a four-wheel-drive for four months out of the year.  We spent most of 1994 getting my new business up and running and moving all of our "stuff" from California.  I wound up putting 4,500 miles on the bike during all of '94.  This was after putting 26,000 miles on it during the 6 month MOA mileage contest in '93.

            It wasn't until late February of this year that I had a revelation.  I got off work early one beautiful, sunny Thursday and it just seemed like riding weather.  It was about 50 degrees out and we hadn't had snow for at least a week.  The roads were all dry and fairly clean, so I decided to go for a ride!

            I live on Colorado Route 133, 24 miles from McClure pass,  which is one of the finest roads in the state.  I headed up over the pass and was having a great time.  It was warm (at least for February) and the snow covered mountains made a fantastic back drop to a great road.

            I decided to take route 65 over Grand Mesa.  It, also, is a great road.  The pavement was clean and mostly dry and the temperature was warm enough to eliminate the worry of ice on the roads.  The snow was ten feet high on the sides of the roads on top of the Mesa and the scenery was absolutely breathtaking.  I passed the snowmobiling areas and headed down the North side towards I-70 around two in the afternoon.  Then I made my first mistake of the day.

            I decided to take the road to Colbran, then over to Silt on I-70 and back home.  I had been on the road from Silt a few weeks earlier in my truck, though I had not driven it all the way through to Colbran.  It was a nice little two lane affair that seemed like it would be great fun on a bike.

            Well, about five miles out of Colbran the road turned to gravel.  That's when I made my second mistake.  I guess my years of desert racing overcame my common sense; I kept going. 

            A couple of miles up the road I made my third mistake when I continued on after the road turned from gravel to dirt.  Now, there's really nothing wrong with riding a 680 pound BMW LT on a dirt road.  At least not until the dirt turns to mud, which it did on this particular occasion.

            Since it was such a warm day the snow was melting and the run-off  began to cause me much grief.  I found myself riding in mud 4 to 6 inches deep.  I was only able to go about 10 mph due to the back wheel spinning.  The problem was, I couldn't turn around!  The road had narrowed to about 10 feet wide and it was ALL MUD!  There was no way I would have enough traction to turn the bike, so I continued on.  Mistake number 4.

            Well, not really. I was only able to go about another 50 feet before the mud got so deep the bike wouldn't move.  I had to get off and push it while letting the rear wheel spin.  I was hoping the road would get better, but I realized after a few feet that I had to turn back.

            I managed to get the bike perpendicular to the road, but that was as close to turning around as I could manage.  I pondered my predicament a moment, cussed myself out and did the only thing I could think of.  I took the saddlebag and mirror off of the left side of the bike, pushed my driving light in, and laid the bike on its side.  I was then able to pivot the whole thing in the mud till it pointed back in the direction from whence I came.

            Now for the fun part.  As I tried to lift the damn thing back up, my feet kept sliding out from under me (remember the mud?).  I felt like Charlie Chaplin, holding a quarter ton of German motorcycle off the ground with my feet flailing away under me, making no progress except to smooth out the road.

            Well, after a few minutes of this exercise, I stopped to ponder once again, this time staring at my once beautiful BMW, now lying on its side in the mud like a huge dead pig, and wondered, "Why the hell do I do these stupid things?".

            Well, my pondering paid off; I figured out a solution!  (Not to why I do stupid things, but to how to get my bike back upright.)  I pulled a sagebrush out of the ground buy its roots, showing no mercy or concern for the environment at all.  Heck, I figured one ripped up bush is not nearly as bad for the environment as a dead human and a rusting BMW.  I put the bush in the mud where my feet were slipping and stood on it.  I gave a great big pull and up the came the bike as I stood firmly on my bush!  Hell, I was so happy it had worked, I almost let the damn thing fall over the other way when I threw my hands up to celebrate!

            Now, you're probably thinking, he has it made, right?  Wrong!  I put the bike back together, put my helmet and leather jacket back on and started merrily, but slowly, back down the road.  I got about 50 feet and wham, I was down on the ground before I knew what happened.

            After looking things over, I quickly figured out what had happened.  The mud had packed in between the front tire and the front fender so tightly it locked the front wheel.  And we all know what happens when your front wheel doesn't turn, don't we?

            Well, I found a suitable sized stick in the bushes and spent about a half an hour digging the mud out.  Once the wheel was free I walked the 50 feet back to my previous location and, with much effort, retrieved my bush from the mud, (you can't say I don't learn!).  I  got the bike up and, again, after putting on my helmet and jacket, was merrily on my way.  This time I made it all the way to the pavement!

            I finally made it home around 6 PM, muddy, tired and reluctant to tell my wife why it had taken me six hours to go a mere 225 miles.  The next day I took the bike to the car wash and, after about $6.00 in quarters, I was able to determine the damage.  I had broken the lower fairing panel, crash bar and driving light on the left side of the bike.  A rock had wedged itself between the REAR tire and swing arm, causing a serious groove in the side wall of the tire.  The total damage came to $1,400.00, which my insurance company paid in eight days.