Man is so made that he can only find relaxation from one kind of labor by taking up another.  - Anatole France

 

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Hi all -

 

Back by popular demand, I'm logging the adventures from my longest trip of 2007. Thanks to the proliferation of wi-fi spots and the Internet, I will be checking in as often as possible to let you know what I'm up to as I putt all over the United States on my motorcycle.

 

If you're a new reader, welcome to my adventures. If you've been waiting for me to come up with something else, here ya go.

 

If you would like to read all my shenanigans from last year, please visit "Project Golden Retrieval".

 

Please return often for updates! (I have goggle tan now.)

 

Christine

 

P.S. Got question for me on the road? Feel free to e-mail at supersabre@gmail.com. I respond relatively quickly.

P.P.S. "We are all travelers. From birth till death we travel between the eternities. May these days be pleasant for you, profitable for society, helpful for those you meet, and a joy to those who know and love you best." - Anonymous

 

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*Mapquest sucks. This is an approximation of my journeys. I preferred US highways over the interstate, but you get the idea.

 

PART 1: Los Angeles to Springfield, MO

 

PART 2: Springfield, MO to Los Angeles, CA

 

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NEWEST ENTRIES ARE ON THE TOP! Update intervals may vary according to current hotel, regional, or weird acts of God conditions.

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*END OF JOURNAL ENTRIES* 

 

July 13, 2007

Reno, NV to Los Angeles, CA

 

I’m returning home today, but not without a quick stop at the “Biggest Little City in the World.”

 

I left the dealership in Pocatello yesterday and headed for Reno, making the 500+ mile trip across US 93 and I-80 West amidst major wind gusts and truck jetstreams. I arrived in Reno around midnight and I’m currently staying at a little inn across the major casinos called the “Monte Carlo” (no relation to the one in Las Vegas). I’m actually very surprised as to how cheap it is to be here in the middle of everything (my room was about $45). This could be a place for quick entertainment for a future trip. It’s less than 140 miles from Sacramento, so it’s very accessible to those Nor Cal folks.

 

I hit US 93 at Twin Falls, ID and took it straight south for about 100 miles until I hit Nevada. On a bright note, it was sunny. But, sun doesn't stop the winds. Trucks coming my way jerk me around with their jet streams, making certain parts of this two lane highway a bit rickety and daunting. I ducked under my windshield and held on until the wind currents left me. I will have to say, this trip didn’t come without some pain. I was stung by a bee at the US 93/I-80 junction, and didn’t realize it until my right ankle started to throb with pain. On a bright note, I didn’t swell up ridiculously, keel over, and die. So, now I know that I’m not allergic to bees. And that bee didn't leave my pants for a little while - a fellow biker from Bakersfield en route to Montana helped me shake it out of my leg.

 

Winds got gusty after the sun went down. I was looking at 30-35 MPH winds around 75 miles out of Reno. It got a bit scary, especially when the trucks and their tailwinds liked to stir everything up as well. Winds replaced the animals that I had encountered in Wyoming, and sometimes I wondered which one was more dangerous. I would either risk hitting something or blown off the road. Choose your poison, I guess.

 

Biker tip: When dealing with gusts, lean into the wind until you feel that your bike is “upright.” As long as you counter the force of the pushing wind, you’ll be fine. It’ll feel a bit daunting and a bit scary but let physics be on your side. Also, it’s highly recommended not to ride during a typhoon. Just a thought.

 

So, when I wake up in a few hours, I’m going to walk across the street to Circus Circus and have breakfast right before I take off for home.

 

My route home will simply be I-80 and down the 101 Freeway through San Jose. I’m actually coming back home a day early, but I figure that the extra rest and a head start on projects that I need to finish at home (and make it to my hockey game on Friday night). But, I will have to say that this has been a hell of a ride. I hope to do this again another time.

 

Thanks to everyone for reading my blog for the last couple weeks. If you’re interested in learning even more details about this trip or on how to plan for your next two-wheeled adventure, feel free to e-mail me or give me a buzz at any time.

 

So, here are a few numerical thoughts...

 

Final Stats:

Total miles (round trip): 5675

States crossed: 13 (Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Missouri, Iowa, Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Idaho, Nevada)

# of Continental Divides: 3 (New Mexico, North Dakota, Wyoming)

Flat tires: 1

# of Yamaha dealers visited: 2 (Minnesota and Idaho)

# of shot glasses purchased for the Ohana: 14

# of bugs: too many to count

 

And finally...

Christine's Awards for Non-Pacific states (so anything that's NOT California)! Nominations include...

     - most interesting state to ride through

               First Place: South Dakota (Mt. Rushmore, the Badlands, and the Black Hills? Try to top that!)

               Runner-up: Minnesota (the Twin Cities, Duluth, and a nice balance between lakes and forests)

     - most boring state to ride through

               First Place: North Dakota (Fields, graveyards in the middle of nothingness, and even more fields.)

               Runner-up: Kansas (Pretty much that but at least a few more towns in between.)

     - most desolate state

               First Place: Wyoming (Hella lonely after dark, but at least you have national parks and monuments.)

               Second Place: North Dakota (If all you got is Lawrence Welk - which I'm a fan of, you seriously have some emptiness issues.)

     - best accesibility to facilities (gas, potty, etc.)

               First Place: Nevada (Casinos! They know you're coming.)

               Runner-up: Minnesota (Simply because there's enough people in Minnesota to justify extra gas stations and hotels.)

    - best shopping experiences

               First Place: Minnesota (Mall of America, Aerostitch) and Springfield, MO (the Original Bass Pro Shops and that cheese/wine place)

               Runner-up: South Dakota (all national monuments, Wall Drug!)

               Honorable mention: Cody, WY (the city's quite interesting, but that's about it for civilization-based entertainment in the state)

     - best food

               First Place: Missouri (Lambert's Cafe ROCKS!)

               Runner-up: Wyoming (steaks and Rocky Mountain Oysters)

     - best weather

               First Place: Kansas (the cool, 5-minute sprinkle was quite refreshing)

               Runner-up: Minnesota (so close to Los Angeles weather that it wasn't funny)

     - worst weather

               First Place: New Mexico ($&%#@* hot!)

               Runner-up: Missouri (nice until just after lunch)

     - riskiest state to ride through

               First Place: Wyoming (f*cking Bambi and his f*cking buddies everywhere - this is why I'm proud to be a meat eater)

               Runner-up: Nevada (thanks to heavy wind gusts on I-80 and a bee sting at the US 93/I-80 interchange)

     - most bugs per square inch

               First Place: Iowa (Thanks for the glowing firefly splat.)

               Runner-up: Idaho (I guess they really like potatoes.)

 

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July 11-12, 2007

Cody, WY to Pocatello, ID to Reno, NV

 

I left Cody about 6:30 in the morning and headed toward Yellowstone. It was a pretty ride, but the temps dropped to about 48 degrees right before I arrived in the park and I had to pull over to put on my fleece jacket and glove liners. Things started to heat up after breakfast in the park and it was quite nice after that. Temps peaked to about 82 degrees and the breeze made the bike trip a smooth sailing one.

 

The views were amazing and I was alternating between beautiful lakes, vast mountain views, and lots of hot springs.

Somewhere in between, I hit another continental divide at 8391 ft.

 

And the buffalo were out to play. My own little western safari.

 

I took the giant loop through the park and had my little picture sessions. And yes, I did see Old Faithful. It's been YouTubed. Enjoy.

 

 

After Yellowstone, I took a quick trip through Grand Teton National Park for a picture and a sticker. This park is small but pretty to look at. Then again, any national park on a motorcycle is simply pretty to look at.

 

 

After leaving Cody, WY, I made my way toward Boise, ID and was making great time. Unfortunately, I ran over a nail and had to stop my run at the first rest stop west of American Falls, ID, about 200 miles short of Boise. I'm spending the rest fo the night at a Motel 6 about three miles from the Yamaha dealership.

 

So, to make this a bit easier to follow, I’ve broken this down into a series of questions.

1. What does a flat tire on a motorcycle feel like?
   1. Well, if it’s a flat on the rear wheel, steering starts to feel a bit heavy and the bike will tend to “lug” when moving from side to side. Now, if you’re dealing with a flat on the front wheel, you have to let yourself drift to a stop and stay away from the front brake lest you wobble out of control. Rear wheel weirdness is controllable. I can't say the same about front wheel instability.
   2. Figure A:
2. Is roadside assistance really worth it?
   1. As a motorcyclist, roadside assistance is wonderful! Actually, if you drive/ride anything with a motor attached to it, it’s a great idea. I have MoTow, a service sponsored by the American Motorcyclist Association. I have used it twice and it’s definitely paid for itself.
3. How did you get a replacement tire?
   1. MoTow recommended that I find a room in Pocatello, ID, a city approximately 30 miles east of my current location. There was a Yamaha dealer in town (Sport Motors) and I had the tire replaced the next day. Thanks to the guys over there for taking care of me! (I'm sending a thank you card!) Thank God I don't own a Ducati. That would've sucked. It's one of the few larger towns that I've passed through where you're actually a total loser if you own a Harley there.
   2. These people rock:
4. Any other pieces of advice for the motorcycle rider?
   1. Don’t panic. If you prepared for your trip, all the resources that you need are in front of you. And don’t forget the little bag of honey roasted peanuts to munch on while you’re waiting for the tow truck to come in.

 

Other than that, it was simply continuing on to Reno! (Of course it's not going to be that easy. I wouldn't have any material to write with!

 

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July 10, 2007

Spending the Day in Cody, WY

 

No blog today. I'm taking a break and shaking off the gravel in my head from last night's drama. But here are a few thoughts based on what I've seen today...which were quite cool!

 

- Buffalo Bill Historical Center in Downtown Cody (http://www.bbhc.org/home/index.cfm): very fun place with an awesome firearms museum (and four other cool museums)...definitely me staying here for the extra day

- The Proud Cut Saloon: I had dinner here. Good prime rib, and I got to try Rocky Mountain Oysters. They're actually pretty tasty!

- "Transformers": watched it in Cody's one-screen theater before coming back here for the evening. Pretty good movie and visually stunning.

- Good night!

 

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July 9, 2007

Rapid City/Keystone, SD to Sturgis, SD to Cody, WY

 

I left in the morning for Mt. Rushmore and traversed the 20 miles or so through Keystone, SD, the city right below the monument. It's one of the cutest tourist traps I've ever seen and I would definitely want to stop in there when I come back to Mt. Rushmore. I have a feeling that I'll be there again.

 

I'm not a conformist! Everyone and their mother has a Harley up here! (I think the trailer is used to carry the Craftsman toolbox with all the repair supplies.) P.S. Harley riders who know I'm not a Harley and don't wave on the highway are f*cking purists.

 

 

Mt. Rushmore itself is a sight to see. You can actually see when you're going up the road to the viewing center and the sheer size of those sculptures is an awe-inspring image. There were tons of people there and lots of people dodging other's camera lines of sight.

 

 

After Mt. Rushmore, I traveled another 45 miles to Sturgis and visited the Harley dealership, grabbing quite a few things and having them shipped home. I decided to throw a few things in there from my luggage to be sent home as well.

 

 

The guys at the Harley place are pretty cool. I found out that two of the employees were teachers who spend their summers working here at the store just for the sheer fun of seeing people during Sturgis bike week. I'm getting very tempted to go to Sturgis next year. In fact, I might put in my reservations for next week when I come back home. I ate at Rosco'z Steakhouse for lunch and had a really awesome Philly Cheesesteak and chicken wings before leaving for Cody, WY and a quick ride through the world-famous Main Street at a 25 MPH parading speed.

 

BIKER ADVICE: When you buy a bunch of stuff, have it shipped home. Most places will charge a very minimum amount to ship. Places like the stores inside of Mall of America will do it for free. Why carry the stuff with you when you can just have it waiting for you when you get home? I will have a lot of explaing to do for all those boxes returning to Rolling Hills Estates.

 

Completely on accident...

Leaving Sturgis, I took I-94 until I saw a sign on the the side of the road that said "Black Hills Scenic Route" and I decided to take it (US 14 west alternate). It was the most beautiful ride through the trees and hills of the forest, and I continued on that road until I hit US 85 West, which, according to my GPS, went straight to Wyoming. Somewhere in between I saw another "Dances With Wolves" filming location sign on US 14A. Now I want to watch this movie just to say, "Hey! I rode past that!"

 

 

 

I cross into Wyoming and get back onto I-90 and see another sign leading to Devil's Tower, the first national monument of the U.S. So I have to go and see that as well. Lots of photo opportunites and riding. The only problem about this whole thing is that I cut off so much sunlight time from my schedule that it was going to screw me over later.

 

Damn...

I make it to the I-90/US 16 junction at sunset. It wasn't looking good for me in terms of getting to Cody, WY at a decent time, but with my room almost 180 miles away and nothing else in between, I didn't have much of a choice. An SD lady on a Honda Shadow who was filling gas at the same stop I was (ironically grew up in Orange, CA) told me that taking it slow would get me through and to avoid the critters. Try doing that for 165 miles in pitch black, because I'm about to tell you about that right now.

 

I enter US 16 near sunset, and everything just went dark on me (complete sun disappearance is around 9:30PM). Temperatures varied in the hills anywhere from 54-77 degrees depending on tree cover, elevation, and wind gusts. I continued down these roads going no faster than 45MPH in bursts and simply scared out of my wits, not because of the dark, but because of the possibly of hitting an animal as big as my bike. I'm going down the highway blasting my horn every few hundred yards to make sure that, at the minimum, the wildlife would freeze in confusion until I passed through. My high beams remained on and I continued to duck under my windshield to avoid the cold, dry gusts.

 

What I almost hit...

(4) deer (one of them was a young stag who decided to dart in front of me - the stupid f*cker)

(1) fox

(quite a few) bunnies

(lots of) rodent-like sh*ts with and without tails - the ones I would'nt have minded hitting

 

I continued on through "scenic" US 16 (translation to some twisties in pitch black conditions) until I hit the little town of Ten Sleeep which had one inn and a camping ground with cabins. The lady at the inn didn't want to charge me for the room and told me to go to the camping ground two blocks down. Big mistake. I enter and there's nothing but gravel on the ground. I had to fight to keep my bike upright, mainting a steady throttle while sliding through the entire park before making my way out in one piece. That was the scariest minute of my life on a bike, and I was out of Ten Sleep before I could count to eleven. Hey, at least I realized that I have mad motorcycling skills!

 

I continued on for another fifty miles until I hit another town with lights and a 24-hour mini mart about 52 miles from Cody. After taking a break, I power it through the night, two more miles of extremely loose gravel, and more stupid animals and make to Cody in one piece. I am so glad that I did make a reservation. This would've been even more of a mess if I didn't do that.

 

I flipped off every mile sign I saw while honking my horn. I sang through Celine Dion and Drowing Pool. I listened to Robin Williams make fun of the quirkiness of the penis and turned it up. Just get me through...

 

A piece of advice for all you travelers out there. Whatever you do, ABSOLUTELY NO traveling after dark in Wyoming. I don't care if you're in a bike or a cage. Wyoming doesn't have enough people in this damn state to justify lights anywhere. Everything that's Bambi or related to it walks around at night. And they're quite stupid. That doesn't help.

 

As a result of that shake-up, and the fact that I didn't get into Cody until 1:30AM, I've decided to stay over today and leave ultra early tomorrow for Yellowstone and eventually, Boise, ID which is about 550 miles away from my current location. I always have to get my scare at least once per trip. This one will last for at least another few days...

 

On a bright note, I heard they have a miniature golf course down the street.

 

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July 8, 2007

Jamestown, ND to Rapid City, SD

 

I left Jamestown without much incident - simply threw the key in the front office's mailbox and jetted off toward South Dakota. In fact, the ride was so much without incident that I passed into South Dakota and didn't realize that I did until the GPS said that I did. Both states are pretty much scenery, bugs, more scenery, and nothing else. And it's kinda difficult to talk about a land that's nothing but hills, the random cemetery here and there, cows, and the occasional town of less than 200 people. Gas stops were about 60-70 miles in between if I was lucky. However, I did come across a section of US 83 in North Dakota known as the Lawrence Welk highway and realized that I was passing through his hometown in Strasburg, ND. Apparantly this is a popular tourist attraction in Strasburg.

 

One of the little pieces of entertainment that I get when I'm running through these states is waving at kids as I pass through. I even got waved at by a guy on a John Deere tractor, whose dealerships in this area rival the number of GMC and Ford dealers in any given town. It wasn't until now that I realized how coveted a John Deere really is. Its following in terms of color and merchandise reminds me very much of the Harley-Davidson franchise in that it's become one of those American images that everyone recognizes.

 

 

I keep putting along until I hit the Pierre, SD, the state capital for lunch at Country Kitchen (with good steak stroganoff and breadsticks) in Downtown Pierre. The capital is approximately the size of Lomita and Harbor City combined and probably has the same amount of people. The most interesting part was when I was approaching Pierre and there was a sign that said that "Dances with Wolves" scenes were filmed in areas north of the city. I also realized that the Dakota states are split between the Central and Mountain time zones and simply crossing a bridge "gave me back" an hour of time.

 

Before going to my room at the Best Western Town and Country in Rapid City, SD (about 20 miles from Mt. Rushmore), I stopped through the Badlands National Park and eventually ending in the town of Wall, SD and its most famous tourist attraction, Wall Drug. While filling up gas before entering the park, I met a guy named Morrie from Chicago who was riding a Honda Goldwing with a trailer attached. He had the new iPhone and I got to enter my e-mail address on it. According to him, it works and it's quite nifty. I asked him how he was able to acquire one so quickly, and he responded something to the degree of, "I picked it up on the south side of Chicago. There aren't very many people out there who can shell out $600."

 

After that, I entered Badlands and got to experience one of the most interesting natural spectacles of multicolored mineral deposits (okay, that description just sucked...but here are the pictures):

 

 

Thirty-five miles later landed me at Wall Drug in the city of Wall, SD (population 800). This place is like a flea/drug/tourist attraction that's interesting, especially with the T-Rex in the backyard. I got myself an ice cream and bumper sticker and put it on the bike. I then met Paul from Brisbane, AU wh told me about how he got his RV...which was quite interesting and reminded me about the serendipty that found me on last year's trip.

 

 

South Dakota is a beautiful state to drive through. I like to take a state and consider it for its "visiting" and "living" factor. Not a place that I'd want to live in. It's too empty for me as well. I guess I'm a person that just likes to be distracted...

 

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July 7, 2007

Stopover in Hinckley, MN en route to Duluth, MN and Jamestown, ND

 

Today was my trip to the world-famous Aerostitch factory which was an hour and a half trip up I-35. I ended up getting lost on the way there, ending up in neighborhoods with the steepest downgrades I've ever seen outside of San Francisco, and gravel covered to boot. Fortunately, I didn't tip over and finally made it to the building after an additional 25 minute delay.

 

When I got there, I was greeted by Dennis, one of the customer service guys. I plopped down on a chair with a water bottle and one of the infamous Aerostitch catalogs and, while surrounded by everything the catalog offered in a single room, picked and chose what I was looking for. After choosing all the little doohickeys (gloves, shirt, belt, etc.), I got fitted for a Roadcrafter jacket and Darien pants. I ended up going for a classic red/silver color and the coolest part was that I was able to transfer my old patches over to the new jacket. I should be getting that setup about six weeks from now.

 

For all you motorcycle riders out there, you MUST make the Aerostitch factory one of your stops on a long-distance motorcycle trip. It's one of those places where you can shop to your heart's content and also where people look at you, look at your bike, look at you, smile, and still think you're normal. I do have to warn you, it's not a huge place, but it's probably one of the most entertaining places you'll go to if you're a biker. They're excited to see people ride in from far away. (In my case, they gave me a pre-made form so I could tell my story about how the heck I got here.) A definite must. I hope to end up there again.

 

I spent around four hours in the place, had my picture taken for posterity, and then I took off for North Dakota along US 2 (which would've gone to Seattle if I had taken it in its entirety), MN 200W, US 34, and US 10 until I hit Fargo, ND. I passed lake by lake on this unintentionally scenic trip, and the bugs followed me around the place or decided to make themselves semi-permanent fixtures on my bike. Some lakes were so large that you couldn't see the other end - very ocean like indeed. What's the difference? You're dealing with fresh water, so anything that thrives on fresh water will live or buzz around the surface. Passing across the Mississippi river was pretty cool too. It's a long river, and being near the top of the country and still being able to see it is quite amazing.

 

Yes, that water is fresh.

 

Once I hit US 10, I stopped at a WalMart in Detroit Lakes, MN to replace the male to male stereo audio cable on my helmet set that malfunctioned on me within the last 250 miles of today's trip. I hit Moorehead, MN about half an hour later (the last city in MN before crossing into the ND border on US 10) and Fargo, ND (the movie of the same name is the only thing that makes it special, seriously) before I even realized that I hit it. I figured that I still had some sunlight left so I continued on I-94 West until I had to stop.

 

In North Dakota, speed limit on I-94 is 75 MPH, which is wonderful for speedy people like me. Ironically, I ended up getting pulled over for being a California for another reason. The problem about North Dakota is that gas stations are sparse and in between. I exited at a place that I thought had gas, and performed, so Californian of me, a Californian stop. There was a trooper in the car that was coming toward me, and I got pulled over. Fortunately, he gave me a warning (there was nothing else in sight except for the mosquitoes that were eating my ungloved hands as I waited for him to write it up. Funniest part is that he had told me he was from Redding, CA and knew the California stop...LOL. But, he was a nice cop and even trailed me to the gas station six miles ahead to make sure I didn't stall out before pulling away. I filled up with 10% ethanol gas - which hasn't affect my bike as of yet - and continued on.

 

It got ridiculously dark on I-94 - nothing but your lights and lights of the truckers illuminating the road. Somewhere in between, I hit another continental divide (whoopdeefrickindoo) and continued to power it until I hit the Starlight Inn in ND. This wasn't my first choice of lodging but the other hotels were booked and I couldn't continue the additional 120 miles to Pierre. But surprisingly enough, they had really good pizza. I had the chicken alfredo sort and then scooted off to sleep.

 

RETROSPECTIVE: Mall of America (http://www.mallofamerica.com)

 

I had to let my experience at MOA fester for a bit of time before I could write this. This place dwarfs any other shopping establishment I've ever been to. The size and store selection is ridiculous, and I learned very quickly that they're very used to people from other places than Bloomington, MN and nearby Minneapolis (I just found out that it was the home of Prince). To boot, it's very close to Minneapolis/St. Paul International Airport to where the planes are still deafening in the parking structure (or at least, one of the two).

 

I spent seven hours to just get through the whole structure (I was determined and distracted at the same time).

 

Escalators facing right before you hit the amusement park inside (yes, you heard me).

 

 

This is probably a third of a third of one wing (the shorter side) of the mall. Just for my humor, there's a full-size Barnes and Noble in there as well.

 

If I had to explain, you wouldn't understand.

 

Here's what I did that day (at least the big part):

- figured out the iPhone in 3 minutes at MOA's Mac store; it's incredibly intuitive but I'll wait until 2nd gen or later before I plunk down the equivalent of a PS3 on one

- found out what my sleep number was (50) @ the Select Comfort Store (http://www.selectcomfort.com/)

- picked up lots of U of Minnesota stuff along with pennants for my classroom

- decided to spoil myself with Dead Sea salts so I won't look so gritty in the future

- shot glasses and postcards galore

- left my debit card at one of the MOA gift shops (the mall is so damn big that it has its own line of merchandise) and got it back after dinner

- ate dinner at an interesting Italian restaurant, Tucci Benucch, pretty decent to my standards

 

This is a one day, all day spectacle that stands alone as its own special event. If you ever fly in to MSP, make this a definite stop and try something "ethnic." The biggest problem about these a mall is that many of the stores are very much like the ones at home. Go to something that's not in your own mall and see what you think. Hell, this place had a hockey store for the Minnesota Wild! Enjoy the adventure through this place - it's a mall trip to remember.

 

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July 5-6, 2007

Springfield, MO to Minneapolis, MN (by way of Faribault, MN)

 

Yes, those are lady riders back there!

I am currently sitting in the waiting area of Motoprimo Motorsports in Lakeville, MN as my bike sits waiting to receive an 8000 mile service, 2000 miles of that put on this trip alone. Sometimes it still astonishes me on how many miles I’ve thrown on this bike since I picked it up back on April 26 of this year. (To put this in perspective, I put 19k miles on my 2005 Suzuki SV650 in 14 months before I traded it for my 2007 Yamaha FJR1300.) This service is going to take about three hours or so, but on a bright note, they have a nice showroom and the Harley dealership is right next door for more of my viewing pleasure.

 

Today’s blog entry will be a little different today in that I’m working on it during my trip rather than at the end of the day. This should warrant for some interesting thoughts…

 

Here’s what happened yesterday. I left Springfield near noon followed with the well wishes and prayers of many of the riders that I’ve met during this Ride-In. (Thanks to Regina and her friends from Indianapolis WOW Chapter!) I jumped onto US Highway 65 and continued on until I crossed into 15 miles or so of Iowa. Whatever you call it, it’s a backroad to me. For many of the people who live down these stretches of rural land, it’s all they know.

 

Here’s the typical ingredients for a small town that I passed through in Missouri. Please keep in mind that none of these cities exceeded 1000 people (or 500 for that matter).

1. (1) gas station with C-Store
2. (a few) Little shack houses
3. corn fields of all different shapes and sizes
4. (1) funeral home
5. (1) cemetery at one edge of town
6. (optional) traffic lights

 

Now, I did come across a town that had more than that and pulled it off with a population of only 350. That was Marshall, MO (no, not related to that movie, “We are Marshall”), where I stopped for lunch at Mazzio’s Italian Eatery, a chain that dots Missouri, Oklahoma, and Arkansas (insert website here) and had some fettuccine alfredo and spinach/artichoke dip there. Not a bad place actually – it’s like a Shakey’s (or if you’re a Torrance local, Lampost Pizza). It’s still very difficult for me to comprehend knowing nothing else than the little town that surrounds me. I think with my desire to learn more about what’s around me I’d feel stifled and squished. For some people, this is okay. That scares me.

 

While crossing these endless hills of cornfields and cows, I thought about my childhood education and some of the first things that I learned in kindergarten. One of the earliest lessons I ever received is of what people do on a farm. I remember being able to identify pigs and cows and chickens and that one silo thingy they use to store grain. What I didn’t remember was when I ever saw one of those in person until I started driving interstates. I can imagine it now. Kids of future generations receiving lessons fifty years obsolete about a lifestyle they will never see for as long as they continue in academia. So there you go, irrelevant lessons start in early childhood. It’s just that during that point in your youth, you haven’t learned the vocabulary to ask yourself the question, “Why the hell am I learning this crap, anyway?”

 

See, kids need to be able to identify what’s in the world around them. At the early stages in their lives, they should be able to know the difference between an SUV and a sedan, Mac and Windows, and the different types of possible coffee (and non-coffee) concoctions that one can make at Starbucks. That’s what matters to us. In Los Angeles, pigs, cows, and chickens only matter when it’s dinner time or when you’re dealing with a board of executives at a noon meeting.

 

[I’ll get back to you on this journal. I’m going to go test a Triumph Rocket III while I'm waiting for my bike to return.]

 

Back on the road again. I think Missouri law enforcement was as bored as I was on US 65.

 

I get pulled over for doing 80 in a 60 zone about ten miles short of the Iowa border. On a bright note, I was caught in the county that had the lowest fines. I have to see what I can do about having them change the designation of the violation so I don’t end up having two speeding tickets on my record. What is ironic of my speeding history is that 2 of the 3 speeding tickets (I got coasting down a hill in Rolling Hills in neutral at the wrong time) I’ve received in my life were out of state. I think I’m only a bad girl when I leave California.

 

If you're seeing nothing but this on the road, you'd want to speed too.

So I finally leave Missouri slightly penalized. In some ways, I’m grateful that the trooper did give me a ticket. Right before the town of Linesville, IA (and South Linesville, MO – such creativity with these names) I’m going down the road at speed limit and up ahead on the road, there’s a deer in the middle of my lane. I slow down to wait for the deer to get out of the way. And the damn thing just stands there until I get within 50 ft. of it and then runs off. Now I understand what people mean by the term “a deer in the headlights.” They’re so stupid and many drivers (and riders) pay for their mistakes.

 

US 65 intersects with Iowa Route 2, literally. There’s a four-way stop in the middle of the highway, which tells you how much traffic they really get there. I turn left on it and ride another 14 miles to I-35 and continue to ride until I see the first gas stop to fill. At this gas station, there’s an amish-like dude with a horse drawn cart selling stuff. I fill up and continue on, entering Madison County in the process.

 

 

Yes, this is the same Madison County as the movie. And yes, there are covered bridges. If I had continued down the same road, I would’ve run into John Wayne’s birthplace about twelve miles further. That would’ve been cool. After all, he was a Trojan.

 

I-35 is lined with nothing but cornfields and the smell of manure. Cornfields and manure beget bugs. Bugs beget meeting with squeegee and paper towels. Iowa delivered me the worst serving of formerly alive creatures and upon my final fuel stop before Minnesota, I got to behold the disgusting evidence of my flight through the night. On a bright note, this gave me the chance to see fireflies for the first time in my life (the first time I saw a black widow was last year, and the last time I saw a peacock in the driveway was a week and a half ago). I also learned that when they actually splat your windshield, they continue to glow a bright green that eventually fades away.

 

This is why windshields rock.

I continued on the pitch black highway, stopping once for gas and once more to put on my fleece jacket – the temps were starting to get to me. For the night I stopped in Faribault, MN, a town about 40 miles south of Minneapolis/St. Paul. I got into a conversation with the night manager about the differences between living in MN and Los Angeles. I will have to say, it’s much cheaper to live here (or anywhere else that’s not California). I’ll sum it up in the statement that I told the service guy here at Motoprimo Motorsports.

 

“I’d consider it if your winters didn’t suck.”

 

I mean, seriously! Think about it this way. First off, summers are quite pleasant. There’s the lakes and the greenery and you can’t go wrong with extra vegetation. If I felt like going somewhere else, I could get up and bike west or east. Hockey is recognized as a sport here. I mean, Minnesota has been dubbed the “state of hockey.” I’ve contemplated leaving Los Angeles for a while, but there’s still the part of me who only wants to be in these other places as a traveler rather than a resident. Perhaps a life change could fix that. In retrospect, a year ago, I would’ve never thought myself tracing the same route that I had taken last year in a car with a Golden Retriever. With the triumphs and tragedies that seemed to have played both in the foreground and background of this two-week adventure, finding myself in the middle of Minnesota is one of the best moments of my life.

 

[Okay, I just came back from the Triumph Rocket III test ride, and I'm am glad that I was riding a Triumph. Right before I arrived at the dealership after my test ride (test rides in Minnesota consist of, "here's the keys...just come back in 30 minutes), a lady pulled out of a supermarket driveway right into my path, forcing me to perform an emergency stopping maneuver. I stop withn 10 feet of her SUV as she just continued on her way. I asked the dealer if this Rocket III was equipped with ABS and he told me it wasn't. Well, whatever helped me stop without keeling over, thanks!

 

I am glad that I live in Los Angeles. Stupid people like that exist every day and doing that move there is someting that will be inevitable. My advice for dealing with one of those heart-pumping situations? Ride every day, in every condition, and if you can, in every state! LOL.

 

Now that I'm done venting, here's my review on the Rocket III.

 

The Rocket III is a 2300cc monstrosity that eclipses the engine of the Yamaha Roadliner. In addition, its three cylinder engine, which offers a very interesting triple pipe setup, really brings out the torque on this puppy. Tootling down the road is as smooth as smooth can get and the location of the bike's weight makes coming to a complete stop (in a non-life threatening situation) a breeze. It starts up extremely smooth and will pull just about the same in any gear. It's a five speed and you really don't need all five gears until you're flying down the freeway. My only critique is ergonomics. Unfortunately, its ergos are designed for someone taller than me, and with my leg stretched all the way out, I began to feel the effects of a recurring hockey injury in my left knee about 10 minutes into the ride. Otherwise, definitely a great ride. Don't be intimidated by the size of this engine - it only adds to the smoothness.]

 

I'll continue with the Mall of America coverage tomorow.

 

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July 4, 2007

Remain in Springfield, MO for WoW Ride-In

 

I'm relishing in my last day here in Springfield, MO. I didn't actually go to sleep until about 3:30 this morning after speaking with a member of Iron Dragons, a WOW chapter in Texas (name's Tonya) and ended up agreeing to meet up for a ride to lunch at Missouri's very famous Lambert's Cafe, home of the thrown rolls. Since today was the day that I was going to get my bike painted with a couple things (I'll explain in a bit), Tonya offered to let me ride on the back of her Goldwing trike to Lambert's. I couldn't refuse...this would be my first time as a passenger and my first time on a *moving* trike. So I finished last night's blog and went to sleep.

 

I slept in until 9:30 today, getting a few things together and cleaning a bit before I moved my bike across the parking lot to the tent set up by Lisa and Eve's Signs and Stripes (http://www.geocities.com/handpainted_stuff/) for my 11AM appointment. I chose my designs and then met with Tonya and Lori (that 'other rider' that I've mentioned for the duration of this trip) and we ran off down I-44 in search of Lambert's Cafe.

 

So this is me not being a rider today.

 

And here's what it's like to be a passenger on the back of a trike.

 

Entering the freeway:

 

Cruising down the highway...

 

And on the interstate, it's so comfortable on the back of this office chair on wheels that I actually started to doze off several times...until Tanya hit a wood plank and jolted me awake on our return from Lambert's Cafe. But, it was an exhilarating experience. I hope that one day I'll be able to give another passenger this opportunity.

 

This is our supposed destination.

 

So, it turns out that we overshoot Route 65 to Branson, MO by about 20 exits, and Tanya decides to stop at the final rest area before an 80 mile stretch without one to ask for directions. We encounter two sanitation workers who turn out to have no idea what Tanya's talking about (and they flippin' live here) and I solve the problem with a little help from 411. We eventually get to Lambert's and put in our reservations with wait times of almost an hour. We decide to kill time at Osceola Cheese (http://www.osceolacheese.com/), the wine/cheese store behind the restaurant (which pretty much depends on Lambert's success to keep its location open) and have our filling of [really tasty] wine and cheese samples while we wait for our names to be called (which were so tasty that I ended up shipping several blocks of the spiciest cheese back to Robbie, my hockey coach...complete surprise really).

 

 

 

 

Now, what's the deal with Lambert's Cafe? Here's the line just waiting to get into the restaurant.

 

 

According to its website (http://throwedrolls.com/), it's known as the "Only Home of Throwed Rolls." I guess I wanted to go because of the allure of having stuff thrown at you. Please keep in mind that as a result of this trip, I will not be seeing any pucks being shot at me for the next couple of weeks (and some other schmuck gets to stand in front of the net in my place until I get back). In addition, I'm a bread whore. I like bread. I am a big fan of regional and ethnic cuisine. (i.e. I did not travel 1700 miles to eat at a damn McDonald's...except that .89 sweet tea sounds good.) So variety was a big part in my decision to have hot giant balls of starch hurtling at me like slow pitch softball. I didn't have a problem catching the things...it was pretty much like taking a puck straight to the logo of your jersey - put your body in front so if your hands fail, you won't have to declare the 5-second rule to be in immediate effect.

 

And these guys are accurate. If you miss a roll, you have nobody to blame but yourself.

 

I enjoyed the fried catfish, fried okra, rolls, black-eyed peas (of the non-singing type), potatoes, and sweet tea. A very delicious experience that I know I'll have again someday.

 

This brings me to the end of my day. July 4th ended at Cruisin' 66 Motorcycles (http://www.cruisin66cycles.com/) where most of the ladies met for a quick barbecue and a chance to go shopping afterhours at the store. I picked up a few additional stickers to add to the topcase of my bike and spoke to a few more riders about this, that, and the other thing.

 

From speaking to these riders, those ranging from Wisconsin to Illinois to New York and Mississippi, I have come one of several conclusions about Californian riders. We as Californians live with traffic every day of our lives. Those who decide to travel on two wheels with the sole purpose of splitting lanes on the highway in the morning miss the fun of adventures through endless canyons, twisties, and multiple state trip. Our motivation to get a bike comes with the loopholes of California law and circumstance: if the bike fits, that's where it's going to go and nobody's really going to stop you.

 

Unlike California, I saw that there were more "motorcycle families" here. One of my favorite moments today was when I spoke to a man from Illnois whose young son was on the back of his 2005 FJR1300. His wife was on her own custom painted Kawasaki ZX-6. We started going off on the FJR model and the fact that the whole family rides something with two wheels. It's the idea of "the family that rides together stays together." In CA, that's non-existent. Motorcycling has been villified and stereotyped as something only done by the crazy teenager or the person asking for a deathwish.

 

In other states, riders have a specific season in which they ride as a consequence of their more variable weather conditions. I think that since the motorcycle is more accessible to us in CA, we often take for granted that type of freedom that we have as riders. Riding is treated more as a fast way to get from point A to point B rather than an alternative method in enjoying what would simply be considered standard life. The reason I ride is not only for the convenience but also for the sheer fun and experiences that I get for throwing away my windows and allowing myself to feel nature through my bike.

 

I have learned so much about how much respect and camaraderie there has been these past couple days here at the Ride-In. Women who ride everything from scooters to trikes meet in this one place to talk, share ideas, and simply revel in the fact that we're all ladies on two wheels. I have been able to meet and speak to other women about their experiences as bikers outside of California and their every day lives. I have been fortunate to meet some of the most interesting characters here and I'm already looking forward to next year's meet in Michigan.

 

What really struck me was when one of the ladies went down on her bike while leaving the bike store. At least a dozen people rushed to pick her and the bike up. She was okay in the end and everyone helped to calm her down. I was actually astonished by what she had: a Yamaha Stratoliner. This is the largest motorcycle that Yamaha makes in any class. The lady was at least three inches shorter than me and, when she got back on that, handled it like any other bike. It was also awesome to see how many people reacted in helping her out. These guys are good.

 

And before I forget, I have to mention the paint job that I had done to my bike. It was done by the time I returned from Lambert's Cafe.

 

I had two names placed on the bike, one on the right saddlebag and the other on the front right section of the bike itself.

 

Name #1: I found out that my dog, Apricot, passed away on Sunday while I was in Gallup, NM. So, with these painters' help, I created a tribute to her and the companionship that she gave me and my family for the past 13 years.

 

The story goes that two bikes ago, I owned a 1983 Yamaha Maxim XJ750. One day, I had finished washing the bike in front of the house and had mounted my saddlebags back on it. For humor, I took Apricot and placed her in the right saddlebag. She found it comfy in there and sat still while I snapped a few pictures with my camera. Now that I own another Yamaha, I paid tribute to her patience by having this painted on my right saddlebag:

 

 

The '94 in the paw print stands for the year that she was born. When I thought of what to put there, I thought about the first time she became an angel. Angels have a lifelong job, and she gets to ride with me wherever I travel.

 

Name #2: This one is bit more obvious to those who know me quite well. So I had this placed here with a twist that I can't get on any vinyl decal.

 

*It's nice to be out here alone in the indoor pool area of this place at two in the morning. There's nothing to bother me right now.

 

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July 3, 2007

Wichita, KS to Springfield, MO

 

Today I made it to Toronto (Kansas). Toronto is one of many little towns that dot US 54, the road in which we traveled for the bulk of today's 265 miles ride into Springfield, MO. Unfortunately, there is no hockey in this town of Toronto. In fact, there's no major gas station either! Just a house and a sign directing one to the shore of the lake named after the city as well. How the hell does that get the designation of a city?!

 

Unlike my previous experience of driving through Kansas, this area through the rural roads surprised me quite a bit. Although not as hilly as Missouri, there was a significant amount of interactivity on the road. For example, the small town of Yates Center is considered to be "Hay Capital of the Work." So basically that's the equivalent of Gilroy, CA except that we're not dealing with garlic and it wouldn't be right to chew on this crop or throw a clump in your salad. Also, I had the chance to experience what cloudiness really meant on the Plains. In one of our streaks on the road, we encountered several rounds of drizzle and drops but not enough to warrant for the bulky rain gear. The moisture dissipated after about 40 miles and we were back to normal weather: a comfy 80 degrees and a bit less humidity than before. The grass? Very green. The cows? Quite a few.

 

The next major town that I cared to remember was the city of Iola, KS. I really believe that Iola would make the perfect model for my commentary today about rural towns. This one here falls under the "you're born here and therefore, you die here" mentality that comes with such small population and small expectations for the people who live there. Put this in perspective: cemetery once you end town and everything else shares the the highway. Everybody knows everybody and is on a first-name basis, and petty crime is nonexistent becasuse stealing from an instutution (if there are any) is the equivalent to truly stealing from yourself...and it's not like you could really get away with it.

 

However, what makes the small town experience so unique is the fact that its major lifeline and main street is a highway or United States road. This means that driveways literally flow out and exit onto the highways. Any sort of traveler, be it a car or a trucker, will pass through and possibly stop. You're in and out of a town before you know it. It's a very grassroot method to the formation and expansion of a town and greatly differs from what we as Californians see every day in our own towns. To get to any place in a city, we take a highway/freeway, one that separates itself from everything else through a series of bridges and elevated platforms. The freeway itself is an external entity that will float over cities rather than integrate itself in them. On the other hand, cities such as Wichita, KS and Springfield, MO allow the highways to run through them with as little separation as possible.

 

(By the way, Gas, KS, located right outside of Iola, is a city with a funny name. There's actually gas in Gas. I hope that doesn't mess your head.)

 

We finally get within the city limits of Springfield, MO by about 3PM only to find that our free flying ride through US 54 (with a few instances of passing) is stopped by a set of slow-turning trafficl lights. We're sitting there on the highway with all the other cars when I realize that there's literally an additional lane in between them. Perfect traffic splitting opportunity! The bad news? We're in a state in which a move like that could put us in jail or at the minimum get us a ticket. It was hard for me to simply sit there knowing that I was letting a prime vehicle gap go to waste. About 15 minutes later, we finally do enter into the main city and to make things even more fun, we overshoot the Oasis hotel and have to turn around and battle extremely heavy car traffic to get where we needed to be.

 

We check in and I walk around to look at the bikes the ladies drove in. Majority of them have Harley-type cruisers, a couple SV650s, GoldWings and things like trikes, trailers, and huge touring cruisers. I believe I'm only one of two FJR1300s here and the newest one of the two. After relaxing for a few minutes, I leave to go to the Bass Pro Shop store down the street. Now, the Bass Pro Shop is usually something that a normal person wouldn't be excited about. But here in Springfield, this store is the largest tourist attraction in the city. In fact, the store has earned its own brown municipal sign that directs traffic right into their area. It wasn't hard to find, and I was going to be pleasantly surprised.

 

 

This Bass Pro Shop is the first of its kind, much like that IKEA that I visited last year on my other long distance trip. It's huge, it has a bunch of animals, and I was able to pick up sunscreen lip balm and cleaning tablets for my CamelBak water reservoir. I also got my share of drama.

 

I decided to eat dinner at the Hemingway Restaurant, a full dining experience on the 4th floor of the store. (Yes, this thing as four floors.) I board one of the elevators and push the "4" button to go up. Instead, I go down to the 1st floor where the elevator then decides to lock and not allow me to open the doors and leave. I'm standing in the elevator being taunted by the ducks in the 40,000 gallon tank facing me while I push the call button, the alarm button a few times, and pulling out my cell phone in an anttempt to get the number for the store to call them to let me out. Eventually, someone hears my calls and rests the elevator so that I can finally make it to my food. I wish I got a discount for that trouble.

 

The Hemingway Restaurant on the 4th floor of Bass Pro Shops had a buffet of a few of my favorite things - pasta with alfredo sauce, vegetable lasagna, and crab legs. In addition, since I was sitting by myself at the bar, I had a wonderful conversation with the bartender, Buddy, who taught me how to efficiently eat crab legs to make it faster and reduce the mess. So yes, Buddy from Hemingway Restaurant in Springfield, MO is the bomb.

 

You can shoot fake things with a laser rifle! Where the skill in that?

 

I have to eventually end this night. I have to have my bike down at the custom painter to get a couple small things painted on my bike. Somewhere between me finishing this and...me finishing this, I met with one of the Women on Wheels members from Texas who is going to Lambert's Cafe with a few of her people for lunch. Since my bike will be worked on during then, I get to ride on the back of her Goldwing trike. I've never been a passenger before in all the time I've been riding, so this will defintely be quite interesting.

 

*yawn* Good morning.

 

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July 2, 2007

Santa Rosa, NM to Wichita, KS

 

My day started with breakfast at the Days Inn in Santa Rosa, NM. The breakfast selection was the usual - fruits here and there, oatmeal, cereal, and bagels. I had my sampling of my favorites and then made myself a waffle in one of these nifty timed waffle machines that I've never seen before. And it was good.

 

After packing up, my fellow rider and I went to get gas and to put air in her rear tire. It turns out that the air compressor in the first station we stopped in was broken so we had to ride up the street. After that was all done, we hopped onto the freeway and headed straight toward Highway 54 in Tucumcari, NM and over four hours of next-to-nothingness.

 

The road down Route 54 toward Kansas is one of those long stretches of straightaways that often give one with a supercharged bike (i.e. me) the temptation to rocket myself into the next county. Unfortunately, long, boring highways are often the favorite hang-out spots for the Highway Patrol. I should know this; I got pegged last year for going ten miles over the speed limit at the Oklahoma border. In addition, my large gas tank permits me to hop from one state to another before even considering filling up again. And here starts another drama.

 

I undestand that all of my entries up to now have included some jab at my riding partner's gas tank. By far, this has been the largest limiting factor of the range of my traveling because she has to fill up twice as often as I do. This became a serious issue today (again) because the next gas station from the beginning of 54 was forty miles past the Texas border, a total of 150 miles between start to stop. By the time we crossed the Texas border, she was starting to panic slightly because there was no fuel station in sight. I had to slow down my pace to 60 MPH (and eventually, 50 MPH) keeping her in my sights until we made it to the first town after the Texas border, about 40 miles in. She made it, I'm still scratching my head, and I really hope that doesn't happen again. I have to make enough stops as is. We've somewhat rectified that problem by filling up every 80-100 miles instead of stretching it to the limit. (Although I still believe that she underestimates her gas tank quite severely.)

 

We continued on Highway 54 until we entered Liberal, KS. This is where Highway 54 is called "The Yellow Brick Road" for obvious reasons: Liberal is home to Dorothy's house. I had to do the touristy thing for my other rider and stop at the house. This was my second time here, the first time being last year on my other cross-country journey. But, it was good humor and she got to take pictures and pick up a few postcards and magnets. After Liberal, KS was simply a powertrip all the way here to Wichita for the evening.

 

Yes, Toto, I'm Kansas in front of your house...ya think?!

 

*yawn* I'm getting tired! It's 1AM Central Time here and a 500 mile per day regimen is a bit taxing on the system. I shall continue on.

 

On other news, this trip has allowed me to see several types of wildlife, both living and dead, on the highway. Here's a quick list.

• armadillo (dead)
• deer (dead)
• pheasant (alive!)
• bats (living and dead: Highway 54 had quite a few of them nestled underneath overpass bridges. I thought I was going to smack one on my windshield and found out that other vehicles were a little luckier with that feat. I guess their sonar methods aren't fast enough for the windshield of a sedan.)
• racoons (very dead; in fact, I had to swerve to get out of the way of a severed one while barreling toward Wichita)
• coyotes (dead and roasting...eew)
• and other roasting carcasses that I was never to identify as anything more than the former frames of animals.

 

The coolest thing I saw today were the series of yellow crop spreader airplanes whizzing over my head and performing tight turns at low altitudes while spraying crops. At first I thought that these guys were going to smack right into power lines, but they were just dancing in the air with such grace. If I didn't get motion sickness so easily, I would've considered learning to fly. I've made up for that by flying on two wheels rather than two wings.

 

Here's a quick list of the other places east of Liberal, KS that we visited today:

 

- Greensburg, KS: This is probably the stop that affected me quite a bit. If you don't know, Greensburg, KS is a small town about 70 miles west of Wichita. It was struck by a EF5 tornado (think Category 5 hurricane-esque) back in May that also killed 10 people. The town is still in ruins and the rebuilding effort is coming along slowly but surely. After seeing this, I can't imagine how horrible it is with Hurricane Katrina's aftermath. I felt like I was riding through a war zone after a massive air bombing raid. Read more about the tornado and ways to volunteer your help @ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greensburg%2C_Kansas#May_2007_tornado.

 

 

 

Think this...but the whole city.

 

- Pratt, KS: This city gets the lovely title of being home to several winners of Ms. Kansas competitions. There's also a WalMart here that I'm quite familiar with. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pratt%2C_ks)

 

DINNER: We ate at a place called "Texas Roadhouse" (http://www.texasroadhouse.com/) that specializes in steak and really good dinner rolls. I highly recommend it. There are a couple locations in CA as well but they're all up north.

 

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July 1, 2007

Flagstaff, AZ to Santa Rosa, NM

 

We left Flagstaff at about 6AM and headed down I-40 to get some riding in before breakfast and the blazing heat of the desert sun. Our first scenic stop was at the Meteor Crater Park where we got in, realized that it would've cost $15 to go on the tour around the crater, and left about as fast as it took us to get there. But hey, the straightaways were quite fun, a sneak preview to our next major stop at Petrified Wood and Painted Desert National Park.

 

At least the Meteor Crater bulding was nice...I guess.

 

 

Before we headed to the park, we stopped on a Route 66 Parallel and encountered The Wigwam Motel. As you can see, they take it literally here.

 

We spent a good couple hours at Petrified Forest and it was quite a nice ride through the area with great visuals and a nice little breeze through the twists. By the time we left the park, we were looking at temps nearing 95 degrees and winds blowing dust into our machines. We were still able to power through to the New Mexico border.

 

 

[Insert ancient forest here that was buried millions ago by giant body of water.]

 

Nature's Natural Wallpaper...

 

We stopped in Gallup, NM for lunch at Golden Corral, which is a nation-wide buffet chain that doesn't exist in California and tastes better than Hometown Buffet. (http://www.goldencorral.net/)

 

After that was one last "touristy" stop at the Continental Divide in New Mexico. This site is one of several in the United States and its official historical marker is right off of I-40. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Continental_divide)

 

 

Today was also when I realized how much of a inconvenience having a small fuel tank can bring. My fellow rider's tank ran low around 100 miles from Tucumcari. We stopped at a Chevron station nearby only to find that it was closed. We had to back track about 8 miles to get to the gas station while precariously running back down the Interstate at 60 MPH with truckers whizzing by. It's great to have a huge tank that can go more than 130 miles per fill. After seeing what the other rider was going through at that moment made me think about what would've happened if I had decided to embark on this journey on my old bike whose range on a single tank of gas was very similar to this bike. On the Interstate, intervals between gas stations vary with the region and some places can go up to 100 miles without a single gas station in sight. This was the case on the first leg of the journey between Barstow and Needles. But, the problem was solved; she didn't have to call AAA down to our location and we were able to get back on the road again.

 

The ride ended today with much cooler weather and a spectacular lightning storm (that we caught the tail end up). After pulling over quickly to put on the protective rain covers for my soft cases and electronics, we went down the highway facing the road spray and slight sprinkling of rain. We ended up stopping about 60 miles short of our final destination of Tucumcari, NM and spending the night in Santa Rosa because of the risk of getting soaked as we traveled further.

 

Our next stop is Tucumcari (where we should've been) with our final destination of the day being Wichita, KS. Somewhere in between, I will be returning to Liberal, KS and Dorothy's House.

 

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June 28-30, 2007

Pre-Ride Thoughts and Day 1

 

This trip came about from a combination of chance and impulsiveness. The latter of this combo is very familiar to me as that was the foundation for my ground-breaking trip last year with Cooper and this red Ford explorer (see "Project Golden Retreival"). This time, I had the chance to repeat the same route and add a few more stops in between. For this first half of the trip, I'm not in that much of a hurry, and I shouldn't be. Without the protection of a cage and no AC (except for the God-provided one which actually needs to be serviced a bit), taking it slow makes the ride so much safer.

 

I started the first day with a 70-mile warm-up at 5AM. The meet point was at a gas station in Rancho Cucamonga off the 210 Freeway, an even split between the other rider and me but a great start point for the jump onto I-15. After topping off the tanks, we rode about 75 miles to Barstow where we ate breakfast at the Bun Boy Cafe, a nice little place with good food and a bunch of Harleys which will pretty much be all I see for the rest of this trip.

 

I believe there are two types of motorcycle riding equipment: (1) the immediate, on-the-ride gear that you need while the wheels are moving and (2) the standard out-of-town stuff that you need to keep your self fresh and sanitized. I think I did a good job with #1, as temps climed into triple digits and wind blasts from 18-wheelers and other stuff bigger than us sprayed who-knows-what into our faces and machines.

 

Here's a quick list of some of the most important on-the-ride gear.

- Camelbak water reservoir: A MUST when you're traveling in triple digits for 100 miles at a time. This backpack mounted accessory holds lots of water and the straw fits perfectly in my helmet! Sipping water while riding extends our intervals between stops. In other words, we only stop when we need the gas.

- Evaporative cooling vest: a lifesaver when you've got wind and no way to harness it. This is a piece of clothing that absorbs water and cools you down as it evaporates.

- Sunscreen: because most people don't find sunglass tan very sexy (and if they do, I'd like to meet them!)

- Music: because the desert is pretty yet boring - a feat that's not accomplished by too many things or people

- GPS: although the route is a no-brainer, location into helps with the countdown

 

The electronics are mounted in one happy package: GPS, iPod, and XM Radio

 

After Barstow, we jumped on I-40 which will be our main highway until we hit Tucumcari, NM and take Highway 54 toward Springfield, MO. The beginning of I-40 between the 15/40 split and Needles, CA is a killer for gas guzzling vehicles and those with smaller gas tanks. By the end of the first leg, my fellow rider found herself hitting the reserve tank on her bike as we approached Needles (about 135 miles from Barstow). I find this limiting factor to be very convenient for me, especially because it's so damn hot (did I mention that already?). But, that also means that she has to fill up twice as often as I do. With a 6.6 gallon tank on my FJR1300, fuel isn't much of an issue for me, unless we encounter a 260 mile stretch with absolutely no gas stations.

 

We crossed into AZ with no incident. The desert here is very much like the one in CA, except for little tufts of green and the occasional tree. Crossing into AZ through I-40 is much different from using I-10 because the landscape does begin to vary itself when you start approaching Flagstaff. Elevation changes, vegetation changes, and temps drop by about 10 degrees thanks to a great unending mass of trees.

 

But before you get to that point, this is pretty much Arizona for you.

 

It was mostly a scenic straightaway today, but I did get to accomplish something in the 500-mile stretch that I've always wanted to do: wave to a fellow rider going down the highway. You can't do that kind of stuff in a car; riders would just look at you funny. There's something magical about being on a bike, and even with all the physical endurance one needs to get through a trip like this, it's definitely worth it.

 

Beware of the Elk!