Chuck and Fred's Tiny M/C Adventure
Two Past Their Sell-by-Dates Motorcyclists Survive 10 Days on the Road
THE PROTAGONISTS
Charles “Chuck” Wade has never seen a campsite he didn’t like and will talk to anything that moves. Scratch that, it doesn’t have to move. Lived in Alaska for 30 odd years before finding happiness in NM. Can fix anything unless its digital. A firm believer in the Slower the Better school of motorcycle riding. Owns the cleanest BMW 1200 GS in the Western U.S. Adamantly denies secretly cleaning it every night.
Fred “The Gimp” Walti who’s never seen a campsite he’s liked nor a bottle of COLD Corona he wouldn’t drink. Believes the best thing about camping is the liquor store stop beforehand. Can fix nothing, unless its digital, in which case he has a 50/50 chance of success. New member of the Double One Hundred Club — 100 mph at 100 degrees F. Owns one of the dirtiest BMW 1200 GS’s west of the Mississippi and does not secretly clean his bike at midnight.
THE ADVENTURE
Ten Day 1800 mile motorcycle ride looping clockwise from central New Mexico up through Arizona, Utah ,and then over to Colorado on the way to the 2023 “Top of the Rockies” BMW Motorcycle Rally. The event attracted 500+ old BMW owners willing to camp out in the Paonia City Park for five days. Gray hair and Michelin Man bodies are the predominant characteristic of attendees, except of course they all own very big, very expensive BMW motorcycles. Top of the Rockies has been going on for 50 years with lots of this year’s attendees were apparently there at the inaugural event.
All of this took place during this country’s hottest July in recorded history. First five days of our trip were 103, 95, 108, 112 and 99. Have any of you camped in weather like this? With no ice, no cold beer and no food? Sorry, I’m getting ahead of the story.
THE RIDE
One of the reasons for the popularity of this rally is its surrounded by great m/c roads. We started out from ABQ not by going north , which would have been logical, but south to a campground literally out in the middle of nowhere called “Cosmic,” which is one of the Top 7 Dark Sky sites in the world for viewing stars. Cosmic was covered with clouds on our night, which should have given me a cautionary hint about the future.
We soon settled into a riding routine. If the road was straight, I’d be happy to sit behind Chuck and enjoy the scenery at 55 mph. It was a new experience for me to be able to look around (I can hear Karen now, “I told you to slow down and look around!”) If the road looked interesting, e.g. with curves, I would ride ahead and disappear into the distance. At the next agreed on place to stop, we’d meet and gas-up. I’d say 50% of the time Chuck would just ride on past me, looking for a better companion or future or both. Then, I’d have to jump on my bike and give chase. This was pretty much our routine on the riding days.
Most of the roads in northwest NM and Arizona were straight, fast (unless your last name was Wade), and deserted. Landscapes varied from forests, desert bluffs and red-clay canyons. The first couple of days were spent going through Indian Country — the Hopi, Apache, and Navajos — which felt parched, baron, and impoverished. Single and double wides were the predominant forms of housing. Can it really be argued that screwed-over people — in this case Native Americans— don’t suffer damages for generations to come as a result?
Few places on earth are prettier than Utah, as in drop-dead, mouth open beautiful. Bryce, Zion, Canyon Lands, and Bridges are a few of the places that leaves one wondering how rock formations can be this interesting, colorful and big.
We rolled into Paonia on Wednesday morning, a full 24 hours before the event started so that we could scope out the best camp site. The next four days were spent meeting our fellow campers (see “willing to talk to anything” reference above. Those attendees Chuck didn’t know before soon became part of our crew), checking out the hundreds of bikes, eating, drinking and talking late into the night. I spent most of the days icing up my leg and shoulder (more on this in a minute) and catching up on the keyboards.
CAMPING WADE STYLE
Chuck Wade has done more camping (remember Alaska) than probably all of you reading this combined. He’s the equivalent of the Million Miler frequent flyer of the national park system. Chuck knows what he’s doing.
Me, not so much. This will be the second camping trip this century (previous with Wade as well) . While KR and I have camped on a m/c lots of times, all those experiences began in years that started with a “19.”
The Wade style of camping is as follows: Any camp site is better than any motel, unless there’s an extreme weather event and then it’s a maybe (for example, 112-degree heat does not qualify as a motel-inducing event). Remote is better than close to any civilization. Free is preferred, but I’ve seen him spend up to $7 for a site. Chuck arrives at a camp site and…(1) Makes a drink. This is probably the only thing we agree on; (2) unpacks his tarp, tent, and rain fly in one motion. (3) Then the equipment starts flowing: cot, ThermaRest, chair, ice chest, stove, and various utensils. Food (a little) and booze (never enough) follow.
The Walti style of camping differs slightly. No booze before erecting the tent as it takes too much concentration. During this process, I usually field a few derogatory remarks from You Know Who about why my tent is so bent (I fell into it after dinner and cocktails during said previous camping trip with Chuck). Then out comes the ThermaRest (it leaks), a chair (its prone to tipping over), sleeping bag (at least it works) and one cup with utensils. Why not a plate you’re thinking? Because no plates are necessary for a Chuck Wade Gourmet Camping Meal. Dinty Moore stew, god-awful kippers and crackers, and melted candy bars are recently featured menu items.
Final tally: Chuck with 7 camp nights. Fred with 3 motels.
LOWER CALF CREEK BITES FW’S LOWER CALF
Off Hwy 12, just north of Escalante in the Bryce National Park is the Lower Calf Creek Camp Ground. It’s a beautiful, hidden campground. I highly recommend it. Except for one teeny, tiny problem. Be careful of the creek as I didn’t make it across. Instead, faster than you can say “Be careful there’s slippery slime” I’m on the creek crossing’s water covered cement.
NVII suffered no damage and I just have a banged up lower right leg and a strained right shoulder. I hobble around a bit and don’t do much heavy lifting (that is now Chuck’s role).
Biggest problem with the spill was both our bikes were on the wrong side of the creek, thus we are not able to go to the nearest liquor store for ice, etc. Neither one of us were brave enough to try and ride the bikes back over the creek. That problem was solved the next day as we convinced a Good Samaritan to help push the bikes back over. That night I manned-up and drank warm screw drivers and Chuck downed warm Corona’s. He didn’t flinch, in fact, I don’t think he knows the difference between ice cold Coronas and anything else. I don’t remember what we had for dinner, whether the Dinty Moore stew or the awful smoked fish and crackers Chuck craves.
DURANGO BAR CRAWL (WELL, ACTUALLY LIMP)
After a week of gimping along (best line, “The Gout hurting you that much, huh?”), getting helpful suggestions and real expressions of concern from the women at the rally, and something closer to that What a loser look from my fellow men, we leave Paonia behind. West on 92 and then 50/550 straight down the Million Dollar Highway through Ouray, Silverton, and Durango. Spend the night at the luxurious Econo Lodge on the the edge of Durango, hop a bar or two in Old Durango, order a Whiskey Sour at our restaurant (they close at 8:00PM here too), and our Top of the Rockies ‘23 is done.
Chuck and I are already planning our next adventure. No creeks this time.
fred
The funniest TRT I’ve read, by far! Laughing out loud in parts. Glad the journeys keep on coming.
Fantastic to READ about. Actually experiencing said adventure............not so much for this domesticated cat. Keep em' coming, life is never boring with you two. :) Gregg