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| Projected to be around 9,000 miles |
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| Round trip time of 20 days |
Pre-launch day.
Paul arrives from Miami, we catch up on old times and finalize our plans.
"Riding in South Florida is a real drag, so my riding trips always
start with one thought in my mind “get the hell out of Miami as fast as possible.” To avoid rain, heat and people,
I took off before 5 AM for what should have been a 280 mile trip to Serp’s place in Tampa. I made great time up I-75
where my memory and laziness failed me. I didn’t pack any maps for the trip since Serp was playing route-master and
map-boy and I couldn’t remember if he lived off of I-75 or I-275. Instead of buying a map or asking for direction, I
did what most men would do: I mentally tossed a coin and lost. When I ran into Bruce B. Downs Boulevard, I knew that I was
well North of Serp’s place. When I stopped to top off the fuel, I called Serp hoping that he would actually answer and
got directions on how to go farther north, make a u-turn and find 275 South. The extra mileage meant a 320 mile day.
The
only amusing anecdote was while talking to Serp’s wife on the phone, who was shocked that at 8:45 AM I was already North
of their house, I hear a gleeful little Frenchman chanting in the background “Somebody was speeding. Somebody was speeding.”
Sure, I was exceeding the posted limit slightly, but I wasn’t hauling serious ass. That’s when Serp reminded me
that we had a put taller, narrower tire on the rear of the bike for this trip so that my speedometer, which normally was 10%
optimistic, was really dead on. So that, for example only, when I was doing 95 mph and thinking I was doing 85 mph, I was
really doing 95. The ticket gods smiled on me: I didn’t see a single law enforcement officer."
Day~1
We pull out of the driveway at first
light headed for a gas station to meet up with a friend who will ride the morning with us. We get to the station a little early and wait
over conversation of the upcoming journey..
Then the dreaded sound every motorcyclist knows makes itself known, a helmet hitting the ground.
His Chatter Box bracket is cracked but operational for the time
being.
We wait past the appointed meet time and no one shows, I would later find out he’s on
time but waiting at the wrong location.
We’re
burning daylight and decide to motor on.
The day gets to 97°f and we welcome the
air conditioning in the Subway for lunch in Cairo, GA.
The end of our days sees us in Tuscaloosa,
AL A good start, with
604 miles behind us we settle into the Master’s Inn for the night.
"Right off the bat I dropped my helmet and cracked the bracket which
mounts my Chatterbox. Bah. I crossed my fingers that it would last the day as I kept my eye peeled for some JB Weld at our
gas stops. Cracked bracket? No problem. I’ll just JB Weld the entire bracket to the side of my helmet. Worked perfectly!
Not
much to say about doing “travel days” in the Southeast. You’re trying to churn out high mileage days to
get out of the boring roads and into the “candy store” as Mr. Surfer names the twisty goodness that is the Rockies
and western states. It was a hot (96F), mainly boring (except for some decent sweepers on GA39), bug-splattering, road-kill-dodging
ride with quite a few LEOs around for spice. We did reach Climax though. Yes, the highlight of my day was going through a
town called Climax. I had a monologue in my head complete with Peter Griffin voice. “Oh God, we’re nearing climax”
at the 3 miles to go sign. “Oh yes, oh yes, climax” when entering city limits. “Climax wasn’t nearly
as good as I thought it would be” when looking around at the Podunk-ness that is Climax.
I’m pretty sure
Serp doesn’t need this insight into my riding thoughts."
Day~2
As would become my morning routine, I
make my special coffee to go with a fruit bar while Paul gets all his ducks in a row.
We roll on with an eye to the sky knowing
we have to cross a front sometime today.
As we approach Memphis I wanted to cut
over on a country road to a parallel interstate that would land us on the far side of the city so as not to get bogged down
in traffic.
The road was where the map said it was
but the number was wrong, it’s going the right way so we took it exiting off by a sign stating Memphis 11 miles.
It turned out to be a nice country road
with turns and elevation changes but it seemed a lot farther than I thought it should be so after a time I stopped and asked
a local for directions.
Turns out I was going in the right direction
but on the wrong road. We finally get to the interstate in question after 45 miles and as soon as we get on there’s
a sign for Memphis 32 miles.
It was worth it.
Just into Arkansas we find the front
but I delay stopping for rain gear, you never know when the road will turn away from the cell.
Alas it wasn’t meant to be and
faced with a curtain of rain we pull over and get into our rain gear…almost in time.
All geared up and ready to go save for
one little problem, Suzi is leaned over too far and I can’t right her by myself.
Paul is quick to lend a hand once he
stops laughing.
We ride in and out of rain for 2 hours
then it’s just overcast the rest of the way to Mountain Grove, MO where we find out the Best Western is no more.
After a 518 mile
day the Travel Lodge will do just fine.
I rush to the hotel because it appears the rain will start up anytime and in
the process we get separated at a red light.
I didn’t know he had not heard the directions and the Chatter boxes were
off since the earplugs were out but as I finished checking us in he shows up and all ends well.
I pull up under the overhang as the rain starts and just my
luck the rain gutter has a leak right on top of my bike.
"It was another hot travel day with some scattered rain. Serp decided
to take a shortcut to get us into Memphis. We had 11 miles until we hit Memphis when we turned off to take the shortcut. After
45 minutes of riding we had 32 miles until we hit Memphis. This is pretty standard when you travel with Serp. 11 miles becomes
32 miles. Another “50 miles or so” becomes 150 miles. You get used to it.
While Serp got directions to
our hotel that night (which I didn’t catch, so I got lost and had to get a local to escort me to the hotel), I got info
on the local eateries. Asking the cashier at the gas station where some good places to eat were, she recommended the “Golden
Dragon” restaurant which was right in front of our hotel. Cool. I asked her what the best dish on the menu was; “cheeseburgers”
was her reply. Really? Cheeseburgers? From the name I thought Golden Dragon would be a Chinese restaurant. “Oh, it is
a Chinese restaurant. Chinese food and cheeseburgers. Get the onion rings too, they’re pretty good.”
This
is why I bring packs of Ramen noodles with me."
Day~3
We wake to a beautifully crisp day, it’s
58°f with a cloudless blue sky and a cricket in the bathroom. The French believe it’s good luck to sleep with a cricket in the
house.
Out of Mountain grove has us in some
nice twisties right off, just a taste of the “candy store” to come. In Camdenton we see signs that 9/11 hasn’t been forgotten.
At lunchtime the local smoke filled restaurant
has us eating from our packs.
A hungry stray dog happened by so I shared
some of my special jerky with him. I guess it was a little too spicy for him as he took on a rabid look salivating and pacing
the sidewalk.
Later at a gas stop in a small town the
cashier yells to her friend a block away that she needs to see her.
As she approaches I say “Hi Kristy!”
Bewildered she says “you know me?”
“Suuuure, you must have been this
tall last time I saw you” I said holding my hand about 3 feet off the ground.
"What's your name?"
"George Peppard"
After a short exchange about her family she rushes in to see what her friend wants, there had to be some
interesting conversation at the dinner table that night.
We get to Lincoln, NE after 500 miles and the
best ride yet.
"Today was the first really enjoyable day of riding after three mediocre
days in the southeast. Serp gave this day 3 out of 4 stars if I remember correctly as we rode the Ozark Mountains. How can
you not like beginning your day needing to wear nothing but some fleece under your riding jacket before heading out for 150
miles of fast sweepers right off the bat?
I love the idyllic scenery of the mid-west. The rolling hills peppered with
quaint farm houses. It’s the smell of animal crap I can do without. And the smoke-filled restaurants. Seeing Serp dodging
pheasants spooked by our high speed passage is a plus though.
Today’s funny was all Serp. After the cashier at
a gas stop stood at the front door and yelled at her friend down the block, her friend came by the gas station. It took a
lot of effort to stifle my laughing as Serp got the girl to believe that he was a long lost friend of the family. The crowning
achievement was when she asked Serp what his name was. “George” he replied, “George Peppard.” "
Day~4
The morning was pleasantly cool with
not a cloud in the sky as we started out. The countryside opened up allowing a better traveling speed. My radar detector would
keep our fat out of the fire a couple of times this day.
Into South Dakota on hwy 18 is
what you might call “Busa territory”
As it often does in the plains the winds kicked up something fierce causing us to ride
with a lean in a straight line. From time to time a butte would block the wind then on the other side the wind would slam
us into a lean again.
It turns out that if you
hit a sparrow at 120 mph there’s not much left.
On the plus side I didn’t connect with the kamikaze pheasants of the area, one even tried to race me on foot
before veering off the road.
Marvin kept watch
on Paul the whole time.
Arriving in Hot
Springs, SD after a fast 529 miles we hold up at the Inn on the River offering a modern-medieval look.
"A day of rolling sweepers, more pheasant dodging by Serp and his
hitting a bird at 100+ is how we started our day. It was a day of “supersonic travel” according to my notes and
while it was warm (97F in Hot Springs) we’re expecting cooler temps tomorrow and into the week.
Some constructive
criticism for our four wheeled driving brethren: stop driving with your ego. When you drive a very large SUV do not try to
keep up with sport bikes at 130 mph. The corners get ugly for you. For the driver of the 1980’s Camaro: when your car
is already belching oil from the exhaust, do not try to keep up with sport bikes at 130 mph. The blow to your ego is better
than the blown engine you suffered. Thus ends today’s lesson."
Day~5
By now I’ve adopted another morning ritual, getting off the centerstand.
Click here for my morning get off.
Once again we have clear blue skies and
just a little colder at 46°f.
We cross a short section of Wyoming before
getting into Montana. Looking down hwy 212 it promises to be another high-speed day.
We burn up a good portion of a tank at
triple digit speeds and arrived in Broadus, MT in time for lunch.
This is a small cattle town and we’re
expecting to eat from our packs again but Paul saw some hand painted signs for a restaurant called the Judge’s Chambers.
It turned out to be an oasis of delight
in the middle of a Podunk town.
The house used to be owned by the local
judge in years passed and was scheduled for demolition before it was saved and turned into a restaurant. We were lucky because they run a farm and are
only open 3 days a week starting on the day we showed up.
The ambiance
was exquisite with classical music overhead and the food just danced on the pallet.
I had the 5-cheese tortellini, Paul had the sautéed chicken with sundried tomatoes in a light cream sauce, The soup,
wild rice and chicken in a cream of celery base. The meal was topped off with warm, fresh herb bread and a couple of slices
of chocolate cake to go.
The chef was a woman who had traveled Europe and collected recipes along the way.
Once we passed
Billings, MT we dialed it up and made up for the long lunch we took.
Montana has a heavy deer population.
They are everywhere.
They graze along the roadside
in packs of 10 to 15 and barely looked up when we went past. We did see a few crossing the road up ahead of us and from the
occasional carcass some don’t make it.
We kept a sharp eye out for them
but luck played a big part in keeping them out of the way.
Nearing the end of the day we
turned west to stare into the setting sun. We only had 16 miles to go to get to the stopover town of Lewistown, MT and I wanted
to get there before the sun got low enough to touch the road making it impossible to see.
With the sun just over the brow
of my helmet and Paul on my taillight we were lopping along at a comfortable 100 mph when we passed a police truck, as luck
would have it he wasn’t in the vehicle at the time and we didn’t stick around to contemplate the reason. We found a room at the
B&B Motel where Paul wasted no time diving into his chocolate cake which seemed to rejuvenated him after our 537 mile
day.
"Travelling into the west you realize how much faster people drive
than in the east. On the wide open plains of Montana, for example, you can pass a cop at 90 and not have him blink (the 100+
we were doing before we tagged the brakes may have had him raise an eyebrow). In Florida, 90 mph will have cops salivating
three counties away. Speaking of riding fast, I was following along behind a semi that I was trying to pass meant I couldn’t
swerve out of the way of the deer corpse. Have you ever jumped a deer corpse at 75 mph? Entertaining stuff, which would have
been ugly if the deer hadn’t been semi-flattened into a nice ramp. Just a little puckered reminder to maintain clear
line of sight on the road when following another vehicle.
The down side to the west is all of the tourists. Coming
up fast on a slow moving mini-van (with the elderly couple from Florida of course) with the personalized license plate “2TURTLS”
was an indication of just how much passing we’ll be doing in the next few weeks.
The highlight of the day was
lunch at the Judge’s Chambers in Broadus, MT. Unexpectedly stumbling on a great restaurant in the middle of Nowhere,
MT led to the best meal of the trip. Five cheese tortellini for Serp, sautéed chicken with sundried tomatoes in a light cream
sauce for me. The soup, wild rice and chicken in a cream of celery base, was outstanding. The meal was topped off with warm,
fresh herb bread and a couple of slices of chocolate cake to go."
Day~6
We get up to colder temperatures, 34°f.
It’s another triple digit travel
day with clear blue skies.
Shortly after we get under way Paul tells
me on the radio,
“If I get frost bite Aileen will
be pissed at you”
I informed him that the chill factor
doesn’t count, it actually has to be below freezing for frost bite to be a concern.
10 minutes later we dip into a valley
where the temps drop to 28°f
It sure is nice having an electric vest.
Being so far in the backcountry we once again
eat lunch from our packs, what has become known as the “Sinclair lunch”
We get to Browning, MT but didn’t
see a motel worth it’s salt so we backtracked to Cut Bank, MT and settled into the Super 8 where they offered privileged
parking.
We’re only 44 miles from Canada
so we decide to run the 75 miles to Cardston, Canada for dinner.
The border guard got real suspicious
when we told him we were coming to Canada for the food and he took over 30 minutes checking out our passports. Finally satisfied we were
on our way.
Canada has some
nice speed limits, notice it doesn’t specify km so we kept it at 90 mph like the solid citizens we are.
In Cardston we
rode through town just to see the choices and settled on a pizza & ice ream joint. It turned out to be more American than
anything we saw in the states boasting a 50’s theme atmosphere.
Back in the US we were starting to loose
the light so we stepped it up and ran across a couple of valleys at 140 mph making it back to the hotel right at sunset. All in all a good 449
mile day.
"Good morning, welcome to Big Sky Freeze-Your-Ass-Off Country.
It
was 34F when we rode out this morning. I normally only see those temperatures on the freezer thermometer. As we rode out the
VFR was showing 32F and Serp and I rode along debating just what it would take for me to get frost bite. I was assured that
getting frost bite required actual freezing temperatures and not wind chill temperatures, but that I could get hypothermia.
It then dropped down to 28F which meant I was a candidate for both. This was the first instance of what I will call the “Serp
Effect.” The Serp Effect is simple: every time I ask Serp a question relating to our upcoming day’s ride he would
lie about how bad it would actually be.
Today’s tidbits not writing about: We did some max speeds runs today
out of sheer boredom. I picked up the first rock of the trip to bring back to my wife (she collects rocks from our travels
and we don’t have a Canadian rock, eh). A drunken Blackfoot kept bugging me for $1 (or “with $5 [he] could get
a sandwich”). What they call “pepperoni” in Canada tastes like a slightly spicy fried bologna. So we had
fried bologna pizza in Cardston, Alberta, Canada. More dodging of deer and pheasants kept us on our toes."
Day~7
The chill was back in the air but nothing
we couldn’t handle. The hotel didn’t have a cart so I had my porter bring out my gear.
Loaded we head west for the Highway to
the Sun. On the way is a nice curvy road but this is open range and cattle can be found everywhere.
We stopped once to wait for the bovine
to get off the road and we saw a calf with an identity disorder. He was perched up a cliff on a small rock mountain goat style.
At the entrance we paid our $12 park
fee and motored on camera ready. The scenery is as good as I remember it.
The traffic is insane and probably the reason why there were no animals about like the last time I past through here
save for this coyote and he looked like he was leaving town.
Past the park we had lunch at the Sinclair
dinner then started the trek south. Around mid-afternoon I would pick up another bird, this one leaving a blood trail on my shifter.
Idaho is next and
just before Lolo’s Pass is one of my favorite signs.
In
Grangeville, ID we get a room at the Super 8 after a 485 mile day of sight seeing and take care of mounting laundry.
An
hour later after checking on the laundry Paul walks in and says,
"Somebody
likes you" holding up Suzi's ignition key. It seems one of the patrons found it in the
washer and left it on top of the machine, DOH!
"Today begins entry into the “candy store” as we leave
the Great Plains and head into mountain country. The first stop on today’s tour was Glacier National Park. The natural
beauty of the area cannot be captured in photos, although I felt the effect was diluted by the assembly line of cars which
crawled its way through the park. I like my nature devoid of people.
We stopped for a brief photo shoot at the “Winding
Road Next 77 Miles” sign and I must say I had expected tighter twisties. I was hoping for a 77 mile long Dragon but
winding described the road perfectly. Mentally I had expected gnarly. No matter, still a great road to ride on.
You
know those websites that build a cartoon image of you? Where you get an avatar that looks like a Simpsons character? I saw
the reverse today. One of the employees at the McDonalds where we stopped for lunch was Meg Griffin. Not the womanly Meg Griffin
but the “call me Ron” manly Meg Griffin from the Stewie movie. Right, not that funny but it was a slow day."
Day~8
We
have a long day ahead of us so I get Paul up an hour earlier.
We
hit the road and run some nice sweepers through Hell’s Canyon
Running a steep downhill I spot the a shot
and pull over to the shoulder braking hard so as not to pass up the shot. The shoulder’s right side is a different color
and looks like old asphalt but turns out to be gravel and I lock the front tire unceremoniously. I get the bike stopped without incident much
to Paul’s amusement.
Past Ontario, ID. the land flattens
out and we dial it up.
In
Central Oregon I stop to record the tranquility and soak in the primal beauty then I catch the rare 130 mph insect not native
to this area.
Click here for the insect sighting
After
refueling in Christmas Valley. OR we make our way to Crater Lake.
On
the way there are some rain cells with visible rain trails but as luck would have it the road just happened to curve around
them so all we got was the cooling effect. At the park entrance we pay the $5 entry fee
then spot the rest rooms.
At
the entrance to the lake road is the need for a sign that testifies to the stupidity of some people.
We
take the long way around the rim. The sky is
overcast and Paul’s doesn’t get to experience the beauty of the lake in sunlight.
As
the sun sets the temperatures drop rapidly so we get one more shot then get off the mountain.
We
make our way to Medford, OR and get a room at the Red Lion Inn. With a fast 638 mile day behind us we kick back and enjoy a couple of Paul’s fine cigars.
"The day started with twisties and then straightened out into sweepers
before tightening up for more twisties. The sweepers had me concentrating very hard on a single thing “mind the cow
poop!” Open range means cattle. Ever had to dodge very large, very wet and slippery looking cow pies while leaned over
in sweepers at 110 mph? Fun stuff; give it a try.
Other than dodging cattle and their fragrant leavings, today didn’t
see a single pucker moment for me. Serp almost lost it when he locked up the front end on gravel that looked like pavement.
But a low pucker factor during my riding day.
The Serp Effect was strong today. I packed away my cold weather gear
since Serp promised me that we were done with the worst of the cold weather since we were heading south into warmer climates.
Later that day I was freezing my ass off at 26F riding under overcast skies and scattered showers through Crater Lake National
Park. Either because of it being late in the day, or because of the miserable looking weather, the park was nearly empty which
allowed me to appreciate its beauty without sucking the fumes of a few dozen RVs.
Serp miscalculated slightly and had
us riding in circles looking for decent hotels. We passed a dozen that I really didn’t like the looks of before stopping
at the best of the worst. On a positive note, Serp’s miscalculations meant we would arrive at Al’s in California
a day early."
Day~9
Another perfect
weather day but Paul starts out by dropping his helmet again and this time the bracket is toast. We get directions to a local
Radio Shack but it’s in a mall that won’t open until 10AM. We jump on the interstate and find a Radio Shack a
few miles down that has what he needs to pipe music into his helmet.
Into
California and what I call "The Candy Store"
A
collection of gnarly twisty roads I just can't get enough of. We start with hwy 96, it winds along
a river with picturesque beauty.
In
Weitchpec, CA we stop for fuel and a quick pack lunch when one of the local women starts a conversation with me,
“Where
are the women?”
“No
women, they couldn’t handle a trip like this”
“You
need to get yourself an Indian woman”
And
she smiles at me proudly showing off the 3 teeth she has left.
Next
we jump on hwy 299 and start enjoying fast tight sweepers.
With
a good rhythm going I dive into a blind left hairpin and right at the apex I lock eyes with CHP. I brake causing Paul to brake
and just after he gets out of my sight my detector goes off and I know he got Paul but not for much.
We
motor on thinking we’re in the clear until he shows back up behind us a couple of miles later, BUSTED. We get pulled
over.
He
was also a rider and gave us a safety lecture about diving into blind turns then said,
"If
you wick it up on the straights a little I won't mind, but take it easy in the turns"
He
let us go with a verbal warning.
A short ways
down we turned onto hwy 3, this road is sweet.
Next
came hwy 36. This road starts out nice and curvy as we head west and toward the end it’s just sick. I was laughing hard
enough to fog up my visor. The road gets
narrow, gnarly twisty and elevations changes bordering on drop offs
We
pull in to Fortuna, CA after an exhausting 373 miles.
"The day started out annoying. I dropped my @!#$%#^#&#*# helmet
again only this time I shattered the Chatterbox itself instead of the bracket. The bracket was still firmly JB Welded to my
helmet.
I mulled over my options: try to find a motorcycle dealer who stocked Chatterboxes? Call Al and have one ordered
for next day delivery to his place that I’ll pick up when we arrive? Serp then remembered that a standard PS2 cable
can be used to connect the chatterbox to the helmet speakers so we went in search of a Radio Shack. $16 later for a keyboard
extension cable (PS2 Male to Female) and a roll of electrical tape and I was good to go. The Chatterbox bracket is now JB
Welded to my helmet, there’s a beige keyboard cable running from my helmet to my tankbag where I’m storing the
Chatterbox which has its battery held in place with a rubber band and some electrical tape after the battery cover tabs were
broken in the drop. Ugly, but at least I have music again.
Music blasting in my helmet and the tunes are set for the
twisties. Mmmmmmm, twisties. CA 36 and CA 3 are great fun. The CHP who nabbed us gave us a safety lecture about our lean angles
in blind turns and sent us on our way. We promised that we would be careful because, when you come upon the unexpected in
a turn, you never know if you’ll make it. To use his words, “sometimes you do, sometimes you don’t.”
Serp and I stuck to that promise for a good three or four miles.
We did slow it down some for the 24 miles of “Loose
Gravel, Fresh Oil” that we had to ride through. A motorcyclist’s favorite signs: Loose Gravel, Fresh Oil.
We
topped our day with Serp flirting with a woman at a gas station. She told Serp that she needed an “Indian Woman”
who, it was implied, was hearty enough for motorcycle touring. She definitely was hearty, or as Serp put it, had “a
face like a well beaten rug.” "
Day~10
Yet another perfect weather day to start. We take the Avenue of
the Giants.
Click here for the short vid
Not too much farther
we come to the drive-through tree.
Click here for tree vid.
Done
playing tourist we get back on the curvy road and make tracks for the coast. Arriving at the coast completes a mission for Paul, he has now made coast to coast.
After
every good curvy section of road Paul would check the nub status on his tires and after 5,000 miles and countless curves there
was 1 nub that just wouldn’t go away. The pocket knife made short work of it.
We
rode the PCH for a while then turned inland at Fort Bragg. It seems that every other miles was another construction zone and made for a lot of time sitting
in traffic.
Once
past the masses we gained altitude, lost degrees and sunlight.
A
few days earlier I lost my low beam so I used my auxiliary lights and high beam to try and spot the evening deer.
we arrived
at the Holiday Inn after a 432 mile day, not bad for playing tourist and waiting in traffic jams all day.
"We had a good morning riding and a good evening of riding (hello
CA 49) with a shit middle of a dozen road closings for construction. It’s always funny how the ending of a day makes
the entire day. So long as you end the day grinning all of the time you spent sweating your ass off sitting in construction
traffic quickly fades from memory. Riding in the dark, stopping Serp from riding past our turn-off, freezing my ass off hoping
that a deer doesn’t spoil my day are only memories now.
Why was today so good? It was good because my goal has
been met: I rode from Atlantic to Pacific (Coast Highway). Forget the Drive-Through Tree, the Avenue of the Giants, and the
Coastal Redwoods. I finally finished my coast-to-coast trip. Of course with the excitement done, I need a rest. A couple days
off at Al’s is going to be great.
This will be funny to no one but Serp: When leaving the hotel today, I closed
the elevator door on the way out. Good times. Good times."
Day~11
We
leave a little later since it will be a short day, we’re going to visit with friends in the San Jose area. Passing around
Lake Tahoe is nice but would be better if the traffic and construction would go away and we saw none of the fires shown on
the news lately.
Past
the lake we get to hwy 4.
In
all the places I’ve ridden in this country this is the best road. A perfect motorcycling road with gnarly near vertical
switchbacks and serious elevation changes. Any road warranting a warning is a good one.
Down off Ebbetts Pass we leave
the mountains behind and stop in Oakdale, CA for a pizza lunch.
To
get to San Jose the easy way we decide on the super slab.
80
miles from our destination we run into a dust storm so fierce we missed an exit because we couldn’t see the big green
sign until we were right under it. After going a few miles around we were back on track and eventually
made it to Al & Mabel’s place after 314 miles.
"We entered the dreaded population center today. Traffic, congestion
and wonderfully twisty bits of road wasted behind lines of slow moving cars. We had our first good meal in a while at a pizza
joint in Oakdale so that my belly was full when we got lost in a sandstorm and started doing u-turns around the freeways of
San Jose. I’m like a little kid; I get cranky when I’m not fed. Only luck kept us from getting lost since the
maps printed from Map Point didn’t resemble reality, but we made it to Al’s successfully."
Day~12
Expecting
rain which never came we decided on a rest day to catch up on laundry and do a little maintenance.
We
did an oil and filter change then Paul watches as we replaced his brake pads.
I
replaced my headlight bulb and pulled my front calipers off to inspect the pads…ummm maybe I should have packed the
spare set after all. It seems canyon carving a loaded bike is detrimental to pad life. Bah, they should be fine.
My
chain has some slack and it gets tighten. The rest of the day is spent drinking wine
and playing motorcycle racing on the game box.
"No riding today as we did various maintenance tasks on the bikes.
Chain cleaning and adjusting, oil changes, air filter changes, and brake jobs. I stood there and looked pretty while Serp
and Al did all the work. I can deal with that arrangement."
Day~13
Our
last day to visit we get Al to play tour guide with his race prepped VFR800.
He
takes us down some very bumpy but fun goat trails.
Ckick here for the California video recorded by Al.
Along
the way we pass the Gardian.
Next
we end up at an overlook of the San Francisco Bay area.
Done
with the sightseeing we get to Alice’s Restaurant for lunch
On
the way home we pass by the park to view a sectioned redwood with date tags.
Paul
wanted to cook an Italian dinner that night so we head back to the house after a fun filled 172 miles.
"Al played tour guide and took us across every pine needle strewn,
single lane, bumpy ass goat trail in the area. Serp thinks this is what started his fork seal leaking. Oh well, the roads
weren’t perfect but the friends and riding were. Thanks for playing host Popo."
Day~14
It
was time to get back on the road. Al was going to escort us part way so we didn’t get turned around before exiting the
metropolis. A group photo with our host was in order.
Paul
is a natural with little Nicholas, Aileen should give him a dozen to play with.
It’s
raining as we start out so everything is weather proofed and we’re in rain gear.
A
short ways from town Al bids us farewell and turns back.
The
rain is light, it’s the tail end of the front we’re planning to follow back across the country. The rain stops,
skies clear and the gear comes off.
Almost
to Yosemite we spot another rain front so back into rain gear…it would not be enough.
It
was raining hard enough that the lady didn’t bother charging me the $10 entry fee, we motored on.
As
we climbed up in altitude the temperature started dropping, the cold gear is packed away and what we have is good to around
50°f…it would not be enough.
Riding
along I noticed that the bike felt loose if I rode in the center of the lane then I realize it was slush, the ground was freezing
up. Then the temperature dropped to 26°f and we had freezing rain mixed with light snow.
My
hands got so cold one of my fingers went numb. A normal person would have stopped and warmed up and I did think of it but
the longer we stayed on the mountain the worst it was going to get, we’d gone too far to turn around so the only thing
to do was to keep going.
At
one point I stopped to get a picture at a pull-off area and Paul kept going,later the reverse was true and I was back in the
lead.
The snow increased.
Knowing
Paul had never dealt with anything like this I stopped to check on him.
By
now there was 2 inches of snow covering ice. Paul tried to stop but both his wheels locked up. He let go of the brakes and
dropped both feet to the ground for a classic Flintstone stop. He started sliding 10 feet behind me, nearly collided with
my bike and slid 30 feet past me.
I
informed him that the best thing to do was to get off the mountain asap, we rode on.
Holding
to 25 mph keeping a neutral throttle, no brakes or lateral loads we rode for 15 miles on curvy downhill ice roads.
I
kept looking back thinking, “Paul, don’t fall, don’t stop” Finally dropping in altitude the snow stopped and we could
see the results.
Off
the mountain but still above 6,000 feet we stopped at a restaurant for lunch and some hot chocolate. Down in the plains looking back we could see it was the right choice to keep
moving.
The end of our day would see
us in Lone Pine, CA after a very entertaining 392 miles where we kicked back with a couple of cigars to rehash the day's ride.
"Today’s was full of the Serp Effect starting first thing in
the morning.
Me: “Good morning Serp, it will be good to get rolling again after a few days off. What do you think
about the satellite images? Will we hit rain today?”
Serp: “Maybe 50%, I think we’ll be okay once
we get out of San Jose.”
When we open the door to leave it’s already raining.
Al rode along in
the rain with us for a bit before turning back once he made sure we wouldn’t get lost on the expressways again. (Al
is a better man that I am. I would have taken one look at the rain, thought about my wife and a warm bed back upstairs and
flipped my guests off as they left without me.) Around lunch time we left the rain behind and stopped for gas under blue skies
and sunshine. It was then that The Serp Effect kicks into high gear.
Me: “Serp, you think we’re done with
the rain?”
Serp: (looking towards Yosemite) “Yep, should be all done and clear for our ride through Yosemite.”
Me:
“Sweet.”
Two hours later we’re stopping to put our rain gear on.
Me: “Serp, you think
we should put on some cold weather gear too?”
Serp: “Nope, should be warm enough without it.”
It’s
raining steadily as we motor into Yosemite and start climbing into the mountains. We looked so pitiful all laden down and
soaking wet that the ranger at the entrance gate didn’t even charge us the park entry fee. We start gaining altitude
and my face shield and glasses start to fog up. Mentally I’m cursing Serp, “no fucking rain” he said, we’ll
it is raining and I’m dodging fallen rock in the road. If I keep fogging up I won’t see the rock in the road that
gets me. He’ll probably save the fucking thing and give it to Aileen as a gift. We climb higher and the rain is getting
heavier. There’s water pooling in the tire grooves on the road and I see Serp switch to riding on the raised hump between
the tire grooves so I follow suit. The road is relatively straight, but I keep wobbling off into the tire grooves. I’m
wondering what the hell is wrong with me that I can’t even ride a straight line. It wasn’t until we came to a
turn that I started sliding and realized that the center of the road was frozen.
I’m cursing Serp harder. Fucking
Serp has me riding on ice. Black-fucking-ice. First rain, now fucking ice. On we motor as I slow down a touch in case more
of the road starts icing. Serp’s pulling farther and farther ahead but I’m not comfortable picking up the pace.
A few miles later I see the rain is getting heavier. Holy shit, that rain’s coming in at an awfully steep angle, is
the wind blowing that hard? I don’t feel it blowing. Check the trees, no sign of strong winds but I see ice building
up on the sides of the hills. I catch a few juicy things on my face shield. Splat, splat, splat. What the fuck? I wipe it
away. Splat, splat, splat. What the fuck? Oh Jesus Fucking Christ. That’s snow. That fucking Serp has me riding in snow.
I am going to kick that fucker’s ass. (I curse a lot when I’m angry.)
The fog on the inside of my face
shield is turning to ice. With ice on the inside and snow on the outside, I can’t see anything. Every 30 seconds I flip
my shield up, scrape the lower two inches of both sides of the shield with my thumb and forefinger and slap the shield back
down because that snow hurts when it hits your face. After a few minutes of this my glasses are covered in snow so I have
to stop and take them off. Since I was stopped, I went ahead and snapped a few pictures. Pictures don’t do it justice
because after I started riding again it began snowing harder so that it became unsafe to stop.
Now I’m riding
blind without glasses and a visor coated in ice. This is about the time I started finding it all funny. I can’t see,
I don’t know where Serp is, I’m riding in a snow storm without cold weather gear, I’m caked in snow, I’m
sliding all over the road and laughing my ass off inside my helmet. Even the tunes were right – Dave Matthews. Listening
to “So Damn Lucky” when riding in snow is a perfect match. At least I found out where Serp was as he passed me
while I was taking pictures.
I knew Serp was ok because I could see his tire tracks in the snow. Tire tracks? Cool,
Serp’s still upright. I see him pulled over at a turn off on the side of the road so I decided to stop. It was a textbook
stop, right out of the MSF Beginning Rider’s Manual. Roll smoothly off the gas, apply even pressure to the brakes, lock
front wheel, release brakes, wobble like a Weeble, nearly take out your buddy on his bike, stop wobbling, take both feet off
of the pegs and drag them in the snow on the ground to stop.
We waited there while the urine froze in my pants until
a car came by and we followed in the melted snow of the tire tracks until we came out of the snow and stopped for a bite and
some hot chocolate.
Me: “That was totally fucked up. You think we’re done with the snow for now you asshole?”
Serp:
“We should be good to go. No more snow.”
Me: “What the fuck is that on my seat? Oh fucking A. No
more snow? Fuck you Serp, its fucking started snowing.”
The day ended with us trying to actually find a hotel
in Lone Pine that had vacancies. Ramen noodles never tasted so good."
Day~15
The plan was to cross Death Valley first
thing in the morning after the cold front passed through so we wouldn’t have to deal with triple digit temperatures,
the plan worked. We woke to clear blue skies and cool temperatures.
Fully fueled we
depart for the Valley.
In the cool 70° morning we head in.
In the center of Death Valley we're below sea level.
There's an odd collection
of sand dunes nearby that seem out of place.
Once
out of the valley we get into Nevada where every store has Nevada’s trademark.
After
a legal ride following a NHP for what seemed like forever he tagged a speeding SUV then we resumed a normal pace. Past Tonopah we pick up hwy 375, commonly
known as the Extraterrestrial Highway.
For
a while it looked like we were headed for some heavy rain as part of the front we were chasing got held up by the mountains.
But our weather luck was holding as the road turned away from the storm for clear passage.
To
the little town of Rochelle just outside area 51 where we had lunch at the Little A’LE’INN.
The food must be good, some have come a long way for it.
Or maybe the choice was not theirs.
After
some lunch and the purchase of appropriate trinkets we were under way.
Crossing
into Utah the road straightened out and we’re back into triple digit travel. Cedar City would
be our resting place this day after a 503 mile day.
"Today we crossed Death Valley. It was 72F. Kinda lose some of the
feeling of adventure and danger when it’s not 130F and the landscape isn’t littered with the bleached skulls of
dead cattle.
Area 51 and the Extraterrestrial highway were also a bit disappointing. The A’le’inn is really
a trailer park in the middle of nowhere whose “famous” burgers were pretty sad. I did pick up another rock and
some alien trinkets for Aileen. I’ve been there; bought the t-shirt; don’t plan on going back (unless a job opens
up at the base.)
The highlight of the day was Utah. The most beautiful state we’ve been through with fast sweepers
through breathtaking scenery."
Day~16
We
start out on a cool morning with blue skies and white puffy clouds.
We climb up in the mountains first thing, the temperatures drops to 24°f and there’s frost on the ground.
There’s a foreboding sense of déjà vu but as
the day warms all is well. Passing
into Mud Canyon the area takes on an out worldly look.
Next we pass the Bryce Canyon area and there's a different view around every turn.
Past the canyons the view opens up.
After
some lunch at a Subway we turn south on hwy 95. This is a 122 mile stretch of road that runs through Glen Canyon and the view
is breath-taking.
Click here for the Glen Canyon vid.
Some people really
like their solitude.
Out
of the canyon we have nice sweepers and out of a right-hander I spot 2 large bucks grazing next to the road. 30 feet distant
the closest looks up as I swerve into the oncoming lane with a look like,
“What’s
that idiot doing?”
Then
goes back to grazing. Into Colorado we make it to Durango after a 496 mile day and take
the only room left in town, a 2-bedroom suite.
Click here for the suite layout.
"Good thing Serp had us pack
up that cold weather gear. It’s not like its 24F this morning. That’s not snow on the ground, its white sand.
Yeah, sand.
The cold was quickly forgotten as we had another full day of unreal scenery. 95 through Utah is a must-ride
road. To the older persons in their RV who we passed unceremoniously, I apologize if our behavior interrupted your sightseeing.
My advice would be to stop and take pictures, not wander across both lanes with your head hanging out the window.
One
deer scare for Serp, no scares for me. One more rock added to Aileen’s collection from Glen Canyon. Half of my top case
is now occupied by stone.
What can I say about Durango? Tourist Trap. The Double Tree was packed with tour busses,
the Holiday Inn wanted $160 for a room and so did the Best Western. We ended up staying at the Best Western because they offered
us a 2 room suite for the normal $160 room rate. It was their last room and I was tired of looking around so we took it. As
I bantered with the girl behind the counter I asked her what the big draw in Durango was. What is bringing all of these tourists
who pay these high room rates? “A train,” she says. “No seriously, what is it.” “An antique
train,” she clarifies. “You’re serious, a train?” “Yes, you ride the train to the top of the
mountain and a bus takes you back down.” Not my cup of tea, but if an expensive night in a tourist trap of a town is
worth it for a train ride, more power to you."
Day~17
We
set out to perfect temperatures and clear blue skies, we’re still surfing the same cold front we picked up in California.
After
some construction delays we dip into New Mexico and some nice curvy roads.
Along
the way a yellow Gold Wing called “Big Bird” joins us.
Paul
lets him by and radios me,
“Gold
Wing’s coming up to play”
I
run a comfortable sporting pace and he sticks right with me, so I dialed it up a bit.
He
was scraping hard parts around every turn and twice he went way wide in right hand turns.
On
the next mountain I waved him by, with my worn tires and questionable front brakes I thought it prudent to stop the hard playing
and settled into our traveling pace.
Running
along at 85 mph on a short straight section of road a turkey flies out of the bushes right into my path. He was flapping his
wings for all he was worth but it wasn’t good enough as he collides with my left handlebar slamming the clutch against
my hand, folding back the mirror and leaving a feather behind. Paul asked,
“What
was that?, I saw a puff of feathers and a large bird spinning on the ground” Once I shook the
numbness out of my hand I pulled over to straighten my mirror.
A
few miles later around a turn I ride up on a deer in my lane. I swerve to the oncoming lane around her as she bounds off the
road. All freaked out the deer came back on the road in front of Paul who jumps hard on the binders and watches the animal
run off the road again. Close one.
The Rio Grande Gorge is a sight
to see. There are signs warning not to throw things over the bridge as there could be rafters below, I wonder if that includes
spit…It’s a long way down.
We make a gas stop and another pack lunch.
Paul
notices that cigarettes are expensive in this part of the country.
Out of New Mexico we exit ‘the candy store’ and into the flat lands of Oklahoma.
The
speed limit is 65 mph so we settle into a comfortable pace of 90 mph.
The
traffic is sparse and we make good time. Then over a low rise the Oklahoma Highway Patrol shows up. I brake and watch my speed drop when he finally turns
on his radar, I look up at him and he’s pointing at me to pull over. BUSTED.
A
few minutes later his backup arrive.
He
walks up to us and says,
“I
don’t know how fast you were going before you hit your brakes but I locked you at 74 mph”
He
then wrote us both warnings.
Night approaches and the moon rises in the clear sky.
Small
town after small town we passed through had no motels, finally we get to Alva, OK.
After
a long day’s ride expecting to find a room but out of 5 hotels there’s not a vacancy to be found, even the dumpy
ones were full.
We
had a McDonald dinner and rode on.
18
miles later in the little hamlet of Cherokee we found a room, the last one left.
We
checked in at midnight after a 688 mile day. Checking over the bikes for the next day I
find that my chain is shot after only 7,500 miles, too many triple digit miles I guess. Paul’s chain is throwing rust
on the rim also but he seems OK for now. Tomorrow I will need to divert to Oklahoma City and find a dealer. I also notice
the fluid level for my front brakes is very low meaning so are my brake pads. I will be using rear brakes only from here on
unless I need real stopping power.
"You know that cold weather gear. Yeah, I unpacked it. I was chipping
ice off of my seat and the thermometer read 31F. That’s how my day started. Serp started off the day by amusing the
both of us by creaming a turkey. Best bird strike of the trip.
We ran into a Gold Wing from Maryland named “Big
Bird” who passed me on the double yellows as a way to say hello. That’s what I get for not looking in my mirrors.
So I tagged onto the rear of him as the three of us went for a spin. A bit later he waved me past and the three of us rode
the straights until the next curvy section. Knowing he was fast I picked up the pace a bit. My front tire quickly let me know
that this was a very bad idea. After the first front end slide I radioed to Serp that I was letting Big Bird come and play
with him. This was probably a good idea since the guy was dragging hard parts and ran wide a few times following Serp. Eventually
Serp radioed back that he was slowing it down, his parts were equally worn out after 7500 miles of hard riding. Thumbs up
to Big Bird for hauling serious ass on a Gold Wing.
Big Bird in New Mexico was the last of our real fun. From there
we went into Oklahoma, got pulled over by the OHP and rode until nearly midnight trying to find a town large enough for a
hotel. We ended up in a nice little mom & pop joint called the Cherokee Inn in Cherokee, OK after what turned into a very
pleasant night ride under a full moon across the rolling hills of Oklahoma."
Day~18
We
get a late start having slept away the fatigue from the night before.
On
our way to Oklahoma City we pass through Enid, OK and I se a big Suzuki sign. We pull in to check on a chain purchase. He
has 2 the right size but too short and offers to sell be both figuring I can link them, thanks but no thanks.
He
informs me of another bike shop down the road. They did have the best parts counter I’d
ever seen in a bike shop.
The
bike shop he sent me to seemed a little gay but if they had the part I'm OK with it.
They
charged me a premium price for the chain then wanted another $9 to cut it to length. I said never mind and cut it myself using
a tool Paul had the foresight to bring.
Tired
of Oklahoma we hit the interstate to be in Arkansas by day’s end.
Doing
so took around a rain cell so that worked out nicely. We made it to Mena, AR after a 403 mile day. Not bad for a ½ day’s ride.
"We slept in after our late night and hit the road around 9:30 AM.
The night before, it became clear that Serp’s chain was done for. We decided that it was in our best interest to change
the chain before it broke in the middle of nowhere. I called Honda Rider’s Club and found the nearest dealership to
our route through Oklahoma City and off we went. Along the way we stopped into a couple of dealerships that we happened to
run into which allowed us to change the chain while bypassing the worst of Oklahoma City roads.
Having dropped a chain
before on a trip, I brought along my chain tool and a couple of spare master links on this one in case the worst should happen.
One expensive chain and an hour later and Serp was cruising along without problem. I didn’t feel that Rainbow Sports,
where we got the chain, was very helpful. Normally when riders run into problem on a road trip, other motorcyclists are willing
to lend a hand. They were apathetic about the whole thing. Not rude, but not really helpful either."
Day~19
We
get an early start will plans to stretch the day so we can make it back to Tampa, FL the next day.
We
have cool weather with no rain in the forecast and nice sweepers.
The
radar detector goes off again and we drop to legal speeds in time to present ourselves as solid citizens for the passing Trouper.
Farther
on we get behind a farmer hauling a cow.
I
wait patiently for the right time and make my pass and go. Just as I pull back into my lane with
Paul on my taillight the Arkansas Highway Patrol rounds the bend, we can’t slow much as we have the cattle truck behind
us and sure enough, BUSTED.
He clocked us at 70mph in a 55 mph zone.
After
'educating' me on the fact that even while passing it is illegal to exceed the posted speed limit he wrote us both warnings.
My
radar detector would pay for itself again this day in Mississippi. Riding in a 65 mph zone at 90 mph I approached a hill where
the limit dropped to 45 mph and the Mississippi Highway Patrol was there to make sure all complied, we did and it cost me
some front pads to do it.
We
get to Tuscaloosa, AL. This was to be our regular stop for the day but we decided to ride on to Montgomery, AL. What’s
another 100 miles. We hold up in Montgomery, AL after a 624 mile day.
"Um, today was hot, boring, filled with slow drivers who refuse to
get out of the way, populated with the wonderful stench of chicken haulers, and we got pulled over by the Arkansas Highway
Patrol.
To the semi driver who was doing 15 under the limit in the sweepers and 15 over the limit in the passing zones.
Doing that just means you’re going to be passed in a manner which is less safe than if you had just kept the speed down
for a minute in the passing zone. The finger I gave you? That was just me letting you know that I think you’re #1."
Day~20
My
final day. Paul still has a short day tomorrow to get to Miami.
We
ride through Georgia as the temperature increases. By the time we get to central Florida
we’re suffering from the results of acclimating to the cold temperatures we’ve had in the past 2 ½ weeks.
80
miles from home we find a refreshing rain shower, just enough to make it pleasant the rest of the way home marking the end
of a perfect trip save for my chain ending with a 520 mile day. Paul was a pleasure to ride with, Al & Mabel were super host and mother nature did an
outstanding job with the weather.
"Hot, boring, no music since I forgot to charge my iPod. Yeah, it
sucked and reminded me that I don’t want to live in Florida anymore. Make that anywhere in the Southeast except north
Georgia, eastern Tennessee or western North Carolina.
Final Day : Tampa, FL to Miami, FL (319 miles)
Straight,
boring, enough rain to keep me relatively cool but now slow me down. I stopped in Fort Lauderdale to buy Aileen her last present
of the trip and grab lunch on Las Olas Blvd. It was one more reminder that South Florida sucks. Rude employees at the restaurant;
stuck up idiots in the stores; more façade than substance.
To the older teen in his father’s brand new 911: Did
you explain how you ran the right side wheels along the curb when you pulled in too fast? The grinding noises were impressive
although the loud pop I heard as you pulled away would have me worried. Did you just pull in to check out the bike or were
you too embarrassed to stick around after your spectacular parking job?"
Trip totals (for me)
19 different states & 2 countries
18 days on the roads (20 total) @ 9,005 miles or 500 miles/day
Paul had an extra 2 days and 640 miles
My fuel cost = $624.66
Hotels cost = $1326,84 ($663.42 my share)
Food cost = $156.38
Maintenance cost = $160
Park tolls = $20
My tires held up to hard punishment and are just now to the wear bars
Metzeler ME880 Marathon rear
Michelin Pilot Road front
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