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Old 11-12-2003, 07:38 AM   #1
Arch OP
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Joined: Dec 2001
Location: Katy, TX
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Talking GS ride to Montana...

The plan was to visit Glacier National Park in Montana, but it was more of an excuse to explore all sorts of different routes on the way up & back for a couple of weeks. Teamed up with my bestest friend, Warren Egger, we left before Friday's dawn ... and made it about 75 miles before his trusty GS quit running. Hmmm. We tore off the tank and checked all of the usual infernal combustion thingies. Got spark? Yep. Gettin' fuel? Yep. Hey why are the injectors firing and various other electrical widgets clicking & whirring for no apparent reason? Good grief, this looked dire. We checked every conceivable connector over & over again, to no avail. This thing was having major cranial flatulence.

I don't usually drink at sunrise, but this was a special occasion!...






Next step was a call to our friends at Wild West BMW. It was early yet, so we left a message on the machine for Dan, service manager, great friend, and all-round top fellow. Not long after he calls us back. We're unable to diagnose the problem via phone, so he checks with someone up front to see if the bike can be picked up quickly. Sure enough, yet another of our Wild West great friends and all-round top fellows hopped in his truck for the rescue. Frank appears about an hour later, with a ramp, tie-downs, etc. But most important of all, with a smile and a familiar willingness to help out in any way possible. A rockin' good man! We load up Warren's bike, I hop on mine, and we caravan back towards the shop. Dave the head BMW wrench is off on vacation, so Dan gives us his help and the run of the shop. Unable to reproduce the electrical fits, we finally settle on replacing the hall sensor as this one's original and the bike (an '01 GS) has 90k miles. 'Course, this was after many hours spent checking this, that and the other. Lo and behold it runs again, so we decide to push on with a 5:00 rush hour start. No big deal really. After all, a day spent working on motorcycles with friends is better than any day at the office!

...


We roll into Junction in the wee hours, having been up since 5:00am. Here's day one's eventual/measly 284 mile route...


Saturday it's up early as we're off for Silver City, NM. Beautiful stormy miles rolled past and I breathed the rain dampened desert air in deeply...


Then pay dirt: 152's twists and turns...


Frisky to get leaned over asap, we ripped. Thus it was, on 152, I decided that Michelin's new Anakees - do indeed rock. A good bit of it was under heavy rains and they stuck like glue. I was a happy camper...


Tallied about 632 smiles...


That night in Silver City we discovered a massive HD gathering of some sort. Our gnarly-dirty GSs stuck out like turds in a punchbowl in a motel parking lot filled with beautiful gleaming Harleys. In the rooms next to us were some of their riders from Riverside, CA. Nice buncha fellas. The following morning (Sunday) several of 'em commented on how they liked the GSs and about their other scoots. My kinda folks. Those who enjoy different types/brands of bikes at different times for different reasons. We shared some route tips and general gearhead gab before heading out.

This would be our best day of riding yet. Good enough to influence our eventual route home many days later...




On the way we passed through Clifton, Arizona and gawked at the amazing mining operation there from an observation point they've set up. I've never witnessed such a scale of human endeavor. Some of dots off in the distance are the world's largest earthmovers...








Passing though and beyond the mine, 191 turns into a serpentine beast. Filled with amazing switchbacks, sweepers, rises & drops, it has to be one of the finest motorcycling roads in the States. A solid hundred or so miles of this and you'll pass maybe two or three cars in the blur. Absolutely incredible...






Naturally, we clowned around a bit as well...






Even the straighter routes later in the day were fun...








Worth mentioning was the time we had to spend behind a Hopi Indian policeman in a Ford truck that evening...


In a strange set of circumstances, Warren found himself behind a van crawling along in full cop-panic-mode just in front of the revenuer, and I was behind taking it all in. So there we were, a 4 vehicle caravan going nowhere in a desert that stretched from horizon to horizon across a reservation that seemed bigger than most states. Traveling along at between 50 and 54 mph for about an hour, both Warren & I were just about to pull over and mercy kill each other when the revenuer's shift must have ended. He passed and took off into the distance at what must've been a scorching 60 mph. We were delighted enough to pull over and share a nip of liquid celebration and poke fingers at the rising moon...








We eventually rolled into Page, AZ on empty tanks. Rolling-down-inclines-in-neutral empty tanks. Fueled up the scoots at the first open pump in town...


And settled in for the night. Satisfied with our lovely 531 mile day...


Monday dawned much colder than previous days and we were soon on our way towards Utah. Ahhh, Utah. Good grief, people - Utah is just such a beautiful place. Its canyons aren't filled with RVs and revenuers and its scenery is unique in so many ways. I always enjoy riding in Utah. We spent the day exploring about. Hwy 12 to Torrey, 95 towards Blanding, dirt roads, twisties, etc, etc...






























Oh, and btw, while taking a break in Torrey, a guy rides up on a well worn Kawasaki Concours. His name's Rocco and he's from Equador. Rocco runs dual-sport moto-tours of the Andes and proved to be a genuinely nice fellow. He was nearing the end of a multi-week tour of the US and we had a great time talking with him. Here's Rocco's permanent smile...


We eventually bedded down in Blanding after 395 super-sweet smiles...


Tuesday we decided to roll though Arches National Parking Lot, err, I mean National Monument. Home of the world's most scenic traffic jams, but here's a rare break...


Did a few dirt paths around Moab. Recent rains made things iffy in spots and heaven help you if caught out in those boonies on a fully loaded GS if the still threatening skies decide to let loose, so we didn't get too many miles away from GPS routes back to pavement...








Aren't abandoned highways cool?...


A few other of the day's pics, including the west side of Wyoming's Flaming Gorge. I just love this part of the world......


















Oh, and we ran across this Gold Wing guy in Wyoming. The '55 Chevy's top lifted up and he had all sorts of stuff packed in there...


Wound up in Evanston, WY that Tuesday night, after 440 miles of fun...


Wednesday dawned even cooler - yeah baby! Got pulled over early in the day 'cause I didn't have my headlight on out in the sticks. No ticket, though, and the guy was nice about it all...


The plan was to work our way up to Idaho Falls, ID, and include a long stretch of dirt mountain roads just outside of La Barge, WY. The weather was still threatening and we'd still been getting wet a good bit of each day, so I didn't think the obscure dirt path was a good idea, but Warren had done it before and sworn it to be awesome, so we decided to chance it. Sure, it was beautiful at first...








But as we climbed into more elevation, snow flakes and temps were falling, and the route was becoming seriously gnarly. All was well, though, at least until we encountered The Mud. The infernal MUD! The dirt path was about a car's width wide and well crowned. Once wet, its surface became almost impossible to walk on, much less ride on. Never mind that we were without knobbies and fully loaded for travel.

I was waddling along and caught a glimpse in my mirror of a flailing headlight as Warren lowsided into the muck. It took my attention away from the task at hand - staying upright - just long enough to see me slowly sliding off the road's crown and into no-man's land. Next thing I knew I was plopped into a quagmire of sticky goo. I switched off the bike and noticed the contents of my tankbag strewn across the muck 'cause I'd had it unzipped for quick camera access. Worse, my left saddlebag was across the road. Broken friggin' latch. Ugh.

Surveying the situation, it dawned on me that TWO fully loaded GSs were jug deep on their sides in mud. Didn't get any pics 'cause the camera was covered with mud and by the time we had 'em righted again, so were we. About that time a hunter comes along and looking at us like he thought we were nuts, starts telling us about how things get MUCH worse just up ahead. Says that even a 4wd truck won't do to get over the pass at this point. We'll have to try & backtrack the 50 or so miles of dirt we'd already covered, but with the weather getting worse by the minute, and my left saddlebag bungied all to hell, we used GPS to navigate some other dirt paths and managed to get back to another paved road after about 40 miles. This route entailed some more mud, but nothing like what we'd been through. Yea!

We ended up in a tiny town called Big Piney and hosed each other off in the local car wash. The muck was everywhere. Gloves, riding suits, gear, the bikes, top to bottom. Lets hear it for GoreTex! Anyway, before long we were back on the road and eventually rolled into Idaho Falls, with the saddlebag still strapped on, after 340 or so - ummm - somewhat tough miles. Don't have all of the dirt stuff mapped, but here's a good bit of the day's route...


Thursday we were meeting up with a Ducati Mail List friend from Montana named John Greer. John has a neat old GS/PD and came south to North Fork to meet us. BTW, 93 rocks along the Salmon River! Much of it's newly paved so the no passing zones aren't marked yet. Whee! Perfect twisty pavement and no rules!...


Anyway, we shared a great lunch in North Fork and as John and Warren took off to head over a dirt mountain pass, I made a beeline to Missoula to try & get some repairs done at Big Sky BMW. They were kind enough to scavenge some used parts and fix the latch on my saddlebag. Plus, my cylinder guard had been ripped off, so they replaced that. Mega-kudos to the folks at Big Sky!

Wound up in the comfy confines of the Greer's home that night and enjoyed the company of John and his lovely wife, Jen, along with a suitably friendly pooch & kitty. He grilled us up some awesome Elk steaks, putting a wonderful punctuation mark on a hectic day.

Here's John & Warren...


Here's the neat old Jeep that John's restoring to bounce around the mountains in...


Hope he has better luck than this guy did way back when...




The day's 384 mile route...


Friday we had big plans, despite the fact that our rear tires were starting to feel the pain. We were gonna need new rubber in a few days for sure. What the heck! They're consumables! We left the Greer's warm home for a push towards Glacier National Park. What an incredible place. Totally worth a visit. From the scenic roads leading up to it...




To the majestic mountain scenery passing through it...




























To the pie & ice cream in Saint Mary near the Canadian border. Mmmmm...




Oh, and my GS turned 10k miles old, so I figured it'd make perfect sense to do so at 100mph...


A couple more of the day's pics...




523 miles of pure joy and we settled into Bozeman, Montana - happy as clams. The day's route...


Saturday's route included a northern chunk of Yellowstone so we could hit the Beartooth Pass. Trouble is, all the signs on the way were saying it was closed for weather, but we figured we'd at least ride up to the barricades at altitude and have a look around. Amazingly, despite the signs, the barricades were open so over the pass we went. It was a bit hairy with the occasional patch of ice, but we had the place to ourselves and it was truly special...






















Ended up in Thermopolis, a neat little town...


The day's 345 smile route...

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Old 11-12-2003, 07:40 AM   #2
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Left Thermopolis on Sunday morning after taking a couple pics of some of its hot springs...




The plan was to end up in Steamboat Springs, CO. Sweet roads and sweet morning weather!...




Along the way we decided to take a long Wyoming dirt road across the Continental Divide. The dirt route was going well, but I made a navigational error that put us on some really vile trails. Much of the going then became sandy, some of it REALLY sandy, with climbs & drops tossed in for added effect. The sort of stuff 4-wheeled ATVs were built for. If only we'd had a pair of 'em! I didn't take too many pics 'cause we were too busy trying to ride, but here's Warren's bike, umm, parked...




After a TON of that, we eventually made our way back to mostly hardpack oil field and mine access roads and rolled southward a bit more efficiently. Warren goes nuts for speed on paths like these...


Saw a ton of critters and finally hit the pavement again near I-80. On 789 we passed by Baldy's Butte, so I spared a though for our fearless leader. Sneaked past the first couple hundred of the six zillion cops we were to be targeted by while in Coporado and rolled into Steamboat, wallets & licenses intact thanks to the interminable traffic. It was nice to secure a comfy room after 321 miles and tons of sand. Staying at the same hotel were two other riders, one who knew my name from way back on MRN. Small world. Anyway, he's since swapped the 1150RT for an FJR and was traveling with a guy on a Ducati ST4s. Nice couple of fellas. We shared some routes and gearhead gab with 'em, then turned in for the night.

The day's 321 smile route...


Monday dawned clear and cold and we were eager to hit Rabbit Ears Pass, etc, before the masses did...


The plan for the day was to do a big loop around and through Rocky Mountain National Park and stay in or near Grandy, so we could visit an old friend of mine the following day and try to get some tires in Denver.

So right at the top of Rabbit Ears, not long after we'd departed, Warren's GS grinds to a halt. He's able to coast down to one of those mountain construction zones where opposing traffic has to take turns threading through. I'm watching as he stops and parts fall off the left side of the engine. It's pieces of the pulley assembly that the throttle cable pulls on to open that side's butterfly. Uh-oh...








Turns out that the pulley's off the shaft and there doesn't appear to be any way to reattach it. In fact, given that whatever held it on to begin with is now long gone, there's no way to tell how it was attached to begin with. 'Bout that time the two guys we'd met at the hotel come rolling through and ask if we need a hand. Neither of 'em is carrying a spare BMW throttle body so we send 'em off with well wishes. So we're messing with the problem and have the bike all taken apart when a Coporado highway department truck comes up in the line of cars waiting for their turn to cross the construction zone. Guy steps out of it and offers to help. Cool!...


Warren and the helpful guy rummage through his truck's wares and decide to try & drill the butterfly shaft to send in a somewhat self-tapping screw to hopefully secure the pulley...


After much grumbling, drilling & grinding, the screw squeaks into place. This looks like it's gonna work! Next thing I know, we're waiting for the pilot car (a seriously goofy concept) to guide us through the construction zone...


Thanks Mr. Highway Department Man!

The day then progressed nicely, despite the endless barrage of radar waves. Around every corner, behind every rock, creeping up from behind, cresting every upcoming rise, pulling out of side streets, and on and on. It's unbelievable how much effort is expended to snag money from motorists in Coporado. I've noticed it from my first ride up there eons ago, and on every visit since, but it's worse now than ever. And posted speed limits don't make much sense, especially coming in after thousands of miles in surrounding states. Then there are the endless no passing zones. But oh well, sure is purdy! Must be wonderful to live there. So many different things to see and do.

We did find some stretches of clean twisty bits north of Rocky Mountain National Park, though, along lovely Hwy 14. And some nice spots to take in the beauty, or maybe a nap or three...










Wishing to avoid having to go into Fort Collins, we headed south from 14 on wacky little county road #27. What a great & obscure route. Super tight & twisty and dizzying ups & downs. We were taking it south to hit US 34 for the ride through the park on Trail Ridge.

Then I got to meet Mr. Truckhead.

Approaching our turn for 34, we encountered an intersection in a rural little neighborhood. Warren makes his left turn and continues on as I roll up and spot a gravel hauling semi coming from the right, but well far away. I'd say at least a 1/4 of a mile and the speed limit was 35. In other words, it wasn't even close, so off I go. Guess Mr. Truckhead thought otherwise, though, so he stood on it. He's accelerating hard up from the rear, flashing his high beams, then just leaving them on. OK, this is weird. I'm going like 75 and watching the mirrors, whizzing past small houses & driveways in the sleepy 35 mph zone, and this guy's about 50 yards away by now - and I'm running out of road as the T of 34's intersection rapidly approaches.

2

The actual turn onto 34 peels off of slightly right at the stop. We're coming up to it like gangbusters and I don't think this idiot can stop in time. Warren clears off to the right just as we arrive and I make the last second jink off to the side to avoid being run over as the huge truck comes shuddering to a noisy & sloppy stop, almost into the intersection and blocking my view of potential oncoming traffic. No way he'd have missed me if I hadn't jinked right. No way in the world. He'd have flattened me for good.

Wow. I take a second to collect myself as the dust & fumes settle around me. Mr. Truckhead is up in the cab going nuts. He's yelling and flipping me the bird with both arms flailing. At first I give him the what-the-hell's-your-problem shrug, but my heart's still pounding from his attempted hit and I lose it. I stooped to his depths and flipped him the sort of bird that can only be flipped when one truly wishes its recipient to be impaled upon an infected cattle prod. Good grief, what a complete piece of garbage. I kid you not, this guy jumps across the passenger side of his still smoldering rig and swings open the door like he's after the ex-con who pleasures his wife while he's away.

Oh this is rich. There I sat with a mentally ill redneck jumping from his semi and there isn't one police car anywhere in sight, after having seen more than I would have bet existed in the entire nation over the last couple of days. In fact, there isn't anyone in sight. Even Warren has rounded the bend to my right. Time to split I suppose.

Funny how quickly the mind works. I ease a bit forward to make sure there's no cross traffic coming. Can't be 100% certain 'cause his truck's in the way, but I'm certain enough to have a go and stay hard right. By now this creep's on the ground running, screaming, wetting his pants, etc. I'm in gear and rolling as he gets close enough to hear me offer a few parting words, then it's off to safety as he comes to a dusty halt in my mirrors, still going crazy with hate, surrounded by his own loathsome BO.

I find Warren waiting around the bend and motion him to follow along 'cause I wasn't stopping. We hit some more rural routes and finally pause on a twisty dirt stretch - where one isn't likely to find 18 wheelers. He didn't know it'd come to what it'd come to, so we talked about it for a bit and decided that the trucker's own miserable existence was his own just reward. But I'd still like to go on record and wish him a series of increasingly troublesome broken marriages and faulty kitchen appliances. Miserable friggin' lunatic.

OK, so after a while we're back on 34 headed towards Estes Park, and I swear - I swear on that all is holy - not more than a few miles from the trucker melee, we passed speed trap #3,963,819. Thankfully, we were stuck behind 42 RVs traveling along below the ridiculously low speed limit, double yellow, of course. I also swear, again, on all that is holy, not more than a few miles after that we were lucky to avoid being ticketing as yet another cop rounded a bend up ahead in brief passing zone - causing everyone to slam on their brakes. Good grief. Warren & I just looked at each other in amazement and admitted defeat.

Oh well, at least Trail Ridge was as beautiful as ever! ...






We made it back to Granby in the dark and snagged a nice little motel after 311 fun-filled miles. Warren & I wondered about the place's retro-neato neon caboose sign...


Of course we later discovered its meaning, as freight train after freight train passed right by our room all night long. Couldn't see the tracks in the dark while scouting the room. Struggling & throbbing to make the incline, they'd lay on the horn for a rural intersection, as well. Yipee! One of the trains was extra cool, though. It was incredibly long and had two locomotives at the front, two in the middle and two at the rear. All were in full torque-mode, and well, what guy doesn't love trains?

Besides...


Woke up to a beautiful day and looked at our rapidly fragging rear tires...




Warren would need a new front Trail Wing, too, while my front Anakee was fine. My 20+ year riding buddy, Dario, was looking for tires for us in Denver, where we planned to land later that day. He'd been talking with his friends at BMW of Denver, but we'd neglected to ask about a front for Warren. More on that later. Now it was time to ride!

Took beautiful 40 down to Empire then slabbed through the Eisenhower Tunnel. Yea, yea, we honked our horns...




Doubled back over the tasty old Loveland Pass...


And hopped onto 381 to go over Guanella Pass. Overlooking Georgetown near the start of the dirt...


The pass...












From there we took 285 to some rural mega twisties and on into my buddy's place outside of Littleton. It was great to see him again!


Still has his yummy old Porsche. It was getting treated to new rotors & calipers plus a few new body pieces. His well-used GS looks brand new, as usual, and his vintage Bimota sat as evil as ever. The guy keeps up with his toys like no one else I've ever known. Real labors of love that get used as intended...




His better half, Linda, has a big Range Rover daily driver. This one actually competed in the Camel Trophy event through the jungles South America years ago, but you can't tell from looking or driving it around. (She works for Range Rover.) Neato...


OK, the wheels had to come off...


Close up of Warren's front, rear and my rear...


The day's short but sweet 183 smiles...


After a lovely night of visiting, eating & laughing, we bounced all over town trying to get some tires mounted up on Wednesday. It took all day and a combination of one Ducati and two BMW dealerships to finally get everything dialed in, but is there anything sweeter than new skins?


Also managed to squeeze in a quick visit to a little warehouse to meet our friend Jim Dillard. It holds a small portion of his amazing 100+ motorcycle collection and I couldn't get enough. Probably 99% of 'em are ready to ride and get out on occasion. Jim's a real enthusiast. I usually only get to visit with him during our yearly stays at an old B&B during Daytona's Bike Week, so it was a great to see him again. A walking old bike encyclopedia, one helluva nice fella, check out just a small sampling of his goodies...








































Then another evening spent visiting & eating, and before long Thursday morning dawned frozen & dreary. So after our goodbyes, off we went, watching carefully for ice for the first couple of twisty hours...








We hit Independence Pass, the always-amazing Hwy 92 down to 50, over to Montrose and down through Ouray, Durango, etc. on 550. Man do I ever love visiting this part of the Rockies. Even the ever-present radar guns couldn't spoil the joy and before I knew it, we were in New Mexico. Enjoyed some nice conversations with some Harley riders at our motel. One couple had been on the road for months. Amazing how many people one runs across who are doing just that. What a beautiful country this is. A few more of the day's pics...








Somewhere along the way, we got hung out to dry between fuel stops and had to transfer some from my bike to Warren's...




Ended up in Farmington, NM, after a great 523 mile day...


And then came Friday. Ahh, yes, Friday. Well, we weren't really planning to be home for a few days yet and all that was certain was that were gonna hit 191 down through Arizona again. Duh! The day started off sorta boring, but we managed to keep ourselves entertained...




After some beautiful rural vistas and more Indian Reservations, we found ourselves on 191 yet again. A bit tedious at first, up there in the desert, but we knew that as soon as we hit Alpine, the joy would begin yet again. Sure enough, flopping over full left and full right, over & over, mile after mile, we absolutely roosted all the way to Clifton. Again, there's just no one out there...




We continued on and decided to begin to route mostly towards home. After all, the best riding was well behind us and getting home a bit early would allow for some rest before having to hit the office again. Before too long we'd passed Las Cruces, NM, then survived the lunacy that is I-10 through El Paso late on a Friday night.

Don't really know why, but we just kept on going and going. Cold/wet/windy, it didn't matter. We weren't in any particular hurry, but high on the vibe of an awesome trip, the fuel stops just came & went...


The repairs to Warren's throttle body (up in Steamboat) finally started acting up about an hour from home as Saturday's sun was rising. No biggie, though. Just needed a quick tweak. Master mechanic Egger...


And next thing I knew...


After a 1309 mile "day"...

Overall trip route, all 6500 or so smiles of it...




Thanks to John & Jen in Montana and my old friends Dario & Linda in Colorado. Your hospitality was most appreciated. Thanks to our great friends at Wild West Hon/Kaw/BMW/KTM. Finest bunch of motorcycle shop folks in all of Texas. Thanks to Big Sky Motorsports, BMW of Denver and Erico Motorsports for their excellent service.

Most all, thanks to my good friend Warren, a friend with whom I'd ride to the ends of the earth with.

Edit: Larger versions of these pictures (and many others not shown) can be found here.
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Old 11-12-2003, 07:56 AM   #3
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Holy shit!



When did you take the trip? How long were you gone?
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Old 11-12-2003, 08:27 AM   #4
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Now THAT'S a ride report!
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Old 11-12-2003, 08:29 AM   #5
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EPIC....period
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Old 11-12-2003, 08:32 AM   #6
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Fantastic report. Thanks. Fantantic photos. Neat adventures. I am so envious!

You and your good friend and riding companion look as though you could be brothers!

This report is going to blow your Smugmug bandwidth stats to smithereens. Each view is probably going to burn 100 MB. Definitely worth it !!!!

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Old 11-12-2003, 08:43 AM   #7
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Ya just know how to get a guy down, don't you? Man, this office is too small.

Very cool trip. Very cool ride report.

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Old 11-12-2003, 08:46 AM   #8
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Fantastic report, Arch!

I won't do further damage to your smugmug bandwidth quota by reposting my favorites but suffice it to say I enjoyed many of your pics. Really, really good stuff!
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Old 11-12-2003, 08:49 AM   #9
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Arch's trip

Arch - Sounds like a great ride except for our state! I have traveled almost all the roads you took and it sounds like you have done your homework. They truly are great riding roads. Jim Dillards collection really is amazing He is a great guy. Thanks for the pics and memories.
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Old 11-12-2003, 08:56 AM   #10
kirkmoon
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This report is fantastic but you are going to get just killed on bandwidth usage because every time someone wants to post a comment or look at an image or two they are going to download the entire collection.

Suggestions:

1) I have found that if I just want to read the comments made by others but not re-download all the images I can click on the thread and start the download, but then click on the stop button almost immediately. The text and comments download first, so I get all the text but only a few of the images. That way I can read what everyone has said without contributing to the carnage that will be your Smugmug bandwidth statistics.

2) If you can "unpost" your ride report, you might be able to decrease the bandwidth hit by reposting it in parts, reserving the last or first part for comments. Or you could just post a text notice of your report with a link to the Smugmug gallery and move most of your text and comments over there.

3) You might want to edit the title of the thread to warn those with dial up accounts that they would be committing suicide if they click on the thread. :):

No matter what, thanks so much for posting this great report. This is what makes this site so great for me!
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Old 11-12-2003, 09:00 AM   #11
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A truly great ride and great report.... I assume this was done in early September? I was in Torrey/Capitol Reef during the last week of August and the monsoons were ripping, according to the Park Service a storm on the 23rd was a fifty year event. Boulders the size of VWs on the road.......
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Old 11-12-2003, 09:03 AM   #12
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Great report Arch! My dial up couldn't handle all of the pics but the ones I saw looked awesome.
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Old 11-12-2003, 09:15 AM   #13
nachtflug
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take a bow. outstanding report.
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Old 11-12-2003, 09:44 AM   #14
Krautbikeman
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Arch,

That is perhaps the best ride report I have EVER read here. Bravo! Well documented, and it occurs to me that throughout this trip, even with a few adventures thrown in, you both are still smiling in every photo.

I look forward to the Ouray gathering even more now that I have been able to see some of the roads through your report.

Awesome!
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Old 11-12-2003, 10:15 AM   #15
EricFoerster
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Stop by here on your way out next time and I'll ride with you.
Awesome ride !
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