Nine States, Two Scraped Pegs and a Warrant - 2005 National Meet Repost

[opus]

Day One - Friday, June 17
Vancouver, WA to Missoula, MT
~559 Miles





Well, after much planning, canceling and then rescheduling, I finally set out on my 2005 Southwest/National Trip.  Due to a pending divorce, the trip got cancelled for a bit.  Thanks to a very loving and forgiving wife, I was able to take the trip after all.

I left about 8:00 AM after packing up the bike.  Originally I had planned to ride with Katzke and some others down to Montrose, but he ended up cancelling his trip.  Consequently, I changed my plans to visit a friend in Denton, MT outside of Great Falls.  I needed to do some slab in order to make up time, so I took I-84 from Portland to Hermiston, then took 12 through Idaho to Missoula.



[Along the Columbia River on the way to Walla Walla]



[Along the Columbia River on the way to Walla Walla]



[Along the Columbia River on the way to Walla Walla]



[Along the Columbia River on the way to Walla Walla]



[Along the Columbia River on the way to Walla Walla]



[Along the Columbia River on the way to Walla Walla]


Highway 12 was pretty cool going through Idaho, but the road was wet most of the way.  That wouldn’t have been so bad as the new Pilot Roads were handling way better than the BattleAx 020’s, but there was a lot of crap in the corners from overhanging trees.  No way, baby.  I took it easy almost all the way through Idaho.



[Clearwater river on Highway 12 in Idaho]



[Clearwater river on Highway 12 in Idaho]



[Clearwater river on Highway 12 in Idaho]


I was able to wick it up a bit going over Lolo Pass, but that’s it.  Saw one buck off on the side of the road, but he was about 50 feet up a slope.  Stopped and looked at him for a bit, but he bounded away before I could get the camera out.  I transferred it to my coat pocket from my tankbag after that.



[Lolo Pass Visitor Center]


I was planning on using my handy new Free Campgrounds - Western Edition to find a free campsite in Missoula, but by the time I got to Missoula it was 6:30 and most of the campsites were off of forest roads.  I gave in to “fake” camping and stayed at the local KOA.  $25 freaking dollars to camp one night.  I felt like jumping into their fancy-pants hot tub without taking a shower just to spite them.  I didn’t, though.  Maybe next time.

Called the kids, then drifted off around 9:00 PM.

[Sport-Touring]

[opus]

Day Two - Saturday, June 18
Missoula, MT To Denton, MT (Outside of Great Falls)
~280 Miles

Well, it occured to me that I should be posting route maps as well, because I got kind of off-course from my original plan.    So, here's the route that I actually took for today.





I tend to wake up around 4:30 or 5:00 AM when I’m camping, and this time was no exception.  I packed up and hit the road by 5:30.



[KOA Campground]


As it was still 38 degrees, I headed to the local Wal-Mart for some postcards, Sudafed, and whatever else I could think of.  I wasn’t able to buy real Sudafed, just Sudafed P.E., whatever that is.  Apparently I couldn’t be trusted to not set up a mobile meth lab while on my National Trip, and the pharmacy was closed so I couldn’t register and get the real stuff.  I wouldn’t have registered anyway, so it’s kind of moot.  Oh well.

After writing some postcards, sucking down a hot chocolate, and then lubing my chain, I left Missoula.  I had heard that you could do “Safe and prudent” speeds in Montana, but I guess that’s not the case anymore.  However, I was doing around 80 in a 70 when I got passed by a minivan doing 90.  Well, that’s just not acceptable.

Started doing 100 to 120 or so for the next hour until I needed gas.  Apparently that cuts down on the gas mileage a bit as I only got like 26 MPG instead of 40-45 MPG.  Oh well.  

When I stopped for gas there was a female State Patrol officer fueling up.  I asked her about the “safe and prudent” thing, and she said not anymore.  I told her “Well, I passed, I mean, I *saw* minivans and pickups hauling campers doing 90-95”, so I thought it was ok.  She said that they would overlook a little, but certainly not 90-95 in a 70.  I said OK.  

She mentioned that she really liked my bike, then pointed out four Harley riders that had matching vests and do-rags.  She said they were part of some club out of Great Falls that had been causing trouble with the law.  “Like biker gang stuff?” I asked, and she said yes.  She didn’t elaborate, but it was enough for me to go over and say Hi.

Talked to them for a bit, they seemed nice enough.  They wanted to know if “riding hunched over” was uncomfortable, I gave them the info about sitting on your spine versus having a slightly curved position while riding a sportbike.  They didn’t seem to believe me, but we’re talking about people who don’t wear helmets.  Should have taken a picture, but I didn't think about it.

Got back on the road, did ten over for a bit, then kicked it back up to 110 or so.  Those long, straight roads are just too nice to go slow.

Stopped long enough to take some pictures, though...


[Big Sky Country]



[Big Sky Country]



[Big Sky Country]


Stopped by the town of Augusta where my mom and step-father used to live.  They were there for a long time until their house burned down, and my step-father died of a stroke and I'm guessing lack of will to live.  Really sad.



[Augusta, MT]

As I didn't have mobile coverage, I called my mom from the pay phone outside the tiny motel.  I was kind of surprised when she said that my step-father had died in the motel, as they were staying there after the fire.  The life flight had landed close to where I had parked.  Weird and kind of creepy.  Rest in peace, Gordon.  



[Wagons West Motel, Augusta, MT]


Blasted the rest of the way to Great Falls, then on to Denton, population 300.  It's a nice place where you can leave your keys in the car, leave your house unlocked, raise your kids with no gang activity, and drive your combine-tractor-sprayer thingy down main street.  hehe.



[Combine-tractor-sprayer thingy]


My friend Scott lives here.  I met Scott while getting my bachelor's, and we've been friends since then.  We sometimes go for months without talking, but the friendship has always been there.  It was definitely worth detouring 500 miles in order to see him again.

I tried to find his house, and did actually park in front of it, but I wasn't sure which one was his.  I acted like a good city boy and headed back to the cafe to call him.



[Denton Cafe]


Scott walked all two blocks across town to meet me, and then I headed to his place.  Saw some wildlife while I was parking the bike.  Very cute.  THEY'RE COMING RIGHT FOR US!!!  CLICK, BAMMM!!!  Just kidding.  Although I'm sure they'd taste good...  



[Bunny wabbits]


Chatted with Scott for a bit, then he took me up to see his horses.  He uses them to go for hunting trips up in the mountains.  They're very friendly and lovable.  I've never seen horses act like dogs or whatever, but these guys were very enthusiastic.


Here's Scott with Joe, a very large horse...


[Scott and Joe]


This is Rascal, who actually was a rascal.  He was very playful.



[Rascal]


Here's me trying to feed the horses without getting any slobber on myself.  Futile effort in the end.  hehe.



[Feeding the horses]


Scott later cooked me a wonderful dinner of elk, antelope, and mule deer.  The elk was ok, the antelope was great, and I didn't care for the mule deer.  We chatted away for a few hours, then hit the sack.


The next morning I got a picture before heading out.  That's technically part of day three, but it's my damn ride report.  heh.



[Scott and Andrew]


Tomorrow will be my longest ride so far, 770 miles from Denton to Denver, 650 miles of it super slab.  Ugh.

[opus]

Day Three and Day Four - Sunday, June 19 and Monday, June 20
Denton, MT to Littleton, CO
~760 Miles



Woke up Sunday morning knowing that today would be the longest ride I’d ever had.  My longest ride to date so far had been from Eureka, CA to Vancouver, WA after the 2005 Sport-Touring.Net West Coast Regional.  That was roughly 420 miles.

This was going to be around 760, with about 580 on the slab.  Ugh.  The reason I was doing such a long ride was so that I could take Monday off and visit with my friend Jason’s parents in Littleton, and also stop by Six Flags Denver.  If I had known that Denver’s Six Flags was going to be as small and unexciting as it turned out to be, I probably would have altered my plans.  Oh well.

Had breakfast with Scott at the Denton Café, got our picture taken (see above), and then I headed out.  I had about 180 miles to get to Billings, taking Highway 87 almost the whole way.  Expedia.com just told me that it should take about 3:40.  I did it in 2:00 or so.  Again, I couldn’t help myself and did 90-110 MPH down to Billings.

One thing I do remember is one of the little ground squirrel guys standing in the middle of the road when I came blasting up to him at 110 MPH.  He started to run the right way, then doubled back and went right under my bike.  Either he didn’t offer enough resistance for me to feel the impact, or he made it through safely.  It looked like my front tire was right on top of him, though.  Hehe.

Stopped outside of Billings somewhere and took some pictures.  Definitely in Big Sky Country.  Pretty, but kind of uninspiring to me.  I need some mountains, man!



[Big Sky Country]



[More Big Sky]



[And More Big Sky]


Took I-90 from Billings down to Buffalo, WY.  On the way I stopped off at the Little Bighorn National Monument.  As I planned on stopping by many national parks, I went ahead and got the $50 park pass.

As it was hot and I hadn’t even planned on stopping here, I just took some pictures and then bailed.



[Little Bighorn Monument]



[Little Bighorn Monument]



[Little Bighorn Monument]



[Little Bighorn Monument]


I soon crossed over into Wyoming.



[Welcome To Wyoming!  Yeeeeehaaaaaaaw]


Busted on down to Buffalo, then got on I-25.  From Buffalo I then headed toward Casper.  As I kept heading south, the temperature kept getting higher and higher.  When I left Denton that morning, it had been around 57 or so.  Now I was hitting the low 80’s.  Came up to Casper, then I-25 heads east for a bit.

Right outside of Casper I came upon a rider doing the speed limit on a 650 Hawk with a Washington plate.  Now, up until this point I had mainly seen guys with no helmets on cruisers.  This guy was wearing a textile jacket, gloves, a full-face helmet, and had luggage.  I’m thinking, “There’s a good chance this guy is heading for the meet!”

I pulled up next to him and kind of gave an excited wave.  He just stared at me.  I hung next to him for a minute, dropped back to check the plate again.  Yep, Washington.  Pulled up along side again, now he won’t even look over.  Hurumph, I say.  Oh well.  I take it back up to 20 over and leave him behind.

I spend the next 15-20 minutes getting really uncomfortable as the temperature climbs close to 90.  It occurs to me to check my water temperature.  230!  Holy crap!  I’ve never even seen it above 220, when the fan kicks in and takes it back down to 200.  I’ve seen it go up and down before, but never over 220.

I kept watching it for a while, but it stayed around 230.  That means the fan is on constantly.  I worried over it for a bit, then remembered reading posts from guys in Arizona who said their temps were always around 230-240.  Plus, the bike would tell me if it had a problem, right?  I almost stopped to dig out my manual and see if the temperature range was in there, but I didn’t want to pull off all the luggage, plus I thought I was being kind of paranoid.

Checked my mirrors out of habit, and guess what?  My friend on the Hawk was about three car lengths back.  Hmm, guess I’m the rabbit, eh?  I kept going until I needed to fuel up, then pulled off at a gas station.  He followed me in.  I went up and said hi.  Turns out he’s around 18 or so, and is *not* going to the meet.

He’s from Spokane and his dad flew down to Georgia to pick up a new Sprint ST.  (Are they that rare right now? )  His dad was going to ride up from Georgia and meet him in Cheyenne, WY.  They would then ride home to Spokane from there.  Pretty freaking cool if you ask me.  Father and son stuff is awesome.

Got a picture of him and his bike before we took off…



[Jeff The Young And Naive - At Least About Conserving Gas...]

Got back on the road and took it back up to 98 or so.  We were barely going faster than the cars at that point.  Montana and Wyoming had been pretty kick-arse as far as the speed limits so far.

We rode for about an hour or so, then I looked back and he’s gone.  We were about 25 miles outside of Cheyenne, so I figured maybe he wasn’t going all the way in to town and had pulled off.  Dunno.

I decided to pull over and change MP3 disks, and also take a drink.  About a minute later he comes pulling up.  Turns out he’s only got a 3.2 gallon tank, and he had just gone over to reserve.  He didn’t have a map, so I showed him it looked like there should be gas within 18-20 miles or so.  I told him to lead the way and I’d follow.

We get back on the road, and he goes right back up to 98.  Whaaaaaa?  Guess he doesn’t know much about gas mileage, eh?  We did make it to a gas station, though.  He told me he put in 3.1 gallons.  Damn, that was close.  He said that he was going to have to get a new tire the next day, and asked how much they were.  I said $110-$180 for the tire, plus mounting and balancing.  He gave me an “Oh crap” look and said “That’s a lot.”  Hehe.  Hope his dad has some money.

We split up, and I continued down I-25 towards Denver.  Man, about 40 miles outside of Denver the traffic went to crap in a heartbeat.  All of a sudden both lanes are full, and we’re doing about 50 MPH.  Well, that just won’t do.  I got my squid on and started politely weaving in and out of traffic, signaling all the way.  I busted through about 20 miles of traffic that way and finally got in front of it.

This leads me to my one close call with traffic during this trip.  Well, not including riding down the center line between a Ford truck and an oncoming camper at 120 MPH because I didn’t want to slow down, but that’s for a different day.  Hell, I might not even talk about it for fear of getting picked on.  Hehe.

Anyway, I came up on a Jeep Cherokee in the fast lane, and a rental camper in the right lane.  The Jeep saw me coming and sped up a bit to pass the camper.  She did everything right except she changed lanes a bit close to the camper, then matched his speed.  I came up on the left of the camper in the fast lane right as this guy is thinking “That dumb b*tch cut me off!  I’ll show her how big a set I’ve got and pass her in my rental camper!”

I’m right next to this guy and he changes lanes into me.  Now, I need to work on my defensive/avoidance skills a lot apparently, because I just moved to the left, crossed the rumble strip, and starting riding down a 9 inch strip of asphalt between the grass and the rumble strip.

I had been riding with one hand in cruise mode, so I looked over at the guy, raised my left arm and started shaking it, and yelled “What the f*ck are you doing?!?!?” in my helmet.  He gets this “OOOOOH CRAP!!!!!!” look on his face and slams the camper back into the slow lane.  I almost started laughing from the look on his face.  I sped up, then thought “Hmmm.  Maybe I should have hit the brakes there, and maybe even put both hands on the bars…”  Knowing me, I’d be flying through the air thinking “Hey!  I had the right of way!”  As I said, my defensive skills need some work.

Got away from the Rental Camper Of Death, then ran into the strongest wind I’ve ever rode through in my life.  It was literally pushing me almost a full lane to the left.  And it wasn’t constant either.  I ended up hanging off the bike to the right so at least the bike was upright.

Got through all that, made it through Denver, then arrived in Littleton.  Streets and Trips screwed me over on the directions, but I didn’t deliver furniture (and pizza) when I was younger for nothing.  Found the right address about two miles to the east, and said hello to my friend’s parents, Daryl and Debbie.

Got a cool picture of the moon that night with the low-light setting on my camera.  Kind of neat.



[The Moon, Boss!  The Moon!]

The next day I went to Six Flags and was pretty disappointed.  It’s about 1/10th the size of Magic Mountain in Los Angeles.  Oh well, it was still kind of fun.  Not 760 miles in one day fun, but still fun.



[Six Flags]



[Six Flags]



[Six Flags]



[Six Flags]


That’s all for today.  I spent the rest of the day chatting it up with Daryl and Debbie, then hit the sack.  I’m totally embarrassed that I forgot to get any pictures of them.  Oops.

Tomorrow I’ll be in Montrose!

[opus]

Day Five - Tuesday, June 21
Littleton, CO to Montrose, CO
~265  Miles




Woke up that morning around 6:00, then headed out for Montrose.  I was going to go by way of Highway 285 to Buena Vista, then take Highway 24 to Poncha Springs, then Highway 50 to Montrose.

Started out the day by getting gas, then almost laying the bike down.  Went through a puddle, then hit a painted line on the road.  I had to kick out my right leg and keep the bike from going down.  Not a good omen.

Got on 285, then almost immediately got off.  I had heard about Red Rocks Amphitheatre from Daryl and Debbie, and here it was.  Even though I had just got on the road, and I hate stopping right away, I decided to visit.  It was pretty cool.  I didn’t actually go into the amphitheatre because I was starting to heat up, and I didn’t want to take off all my gear and headphones.  Got some cool pictures, though.



[Red Rocks Amphitheatre]



[Red Rocks Amphitheatre]



[Red Rocks Amphitheatre]



[Red Rocks Amphitheatre]



[Red Rocks Amphitheatre]



[Red Rocks Amphitheatre]



[Red Rocks Amphitheatre]


Rode on 285 for a while, and eventually came to my first real sighting of the Rockies up close.  I can’t remember if this is Fairplay, Buena Vista, or Poncha Springs.  Either way, they’re awesome to look at!


[Rockies]



[Rockies]



[Rockies]



[Rockies]


I didn’t stop for too many pictures as I was eager to get to Montrose by this point.  I stopped in Gunnison for gas and food, then headed west again.  I’m pretty sure the following pictures were taken at the Blue Mesa Reservoir, but I’m not positive.


[Blue Mesa Reservoir]



[Blue Mesa Reservoir]


After that I got into Montrose, then checked into the USA Inn.  Now, the National Meet was officially the 22nd and 23rd, and most people were staying at the Red Arrow Best Western motel.  For some reason I thought that there would be a lot of them staying the night of the 21st as well.  However, when I went past the Red Arrow later, I didn’t see hardly any bikes at all.  Hurumph.  Why the hell did I pay $130 for this room when no one was in town?  I was thinking that there would be group rides Wednesday morning and I would want to be in town, but that wasn’t the case.  I don’t think anything happened at all until the dinner Wednesday night at 6:00.

I hung around the room for a while, eventually drifting off.  My roommate RonC showed up a bit later, and we spent the rest of the night talking bikes, women, and politics.  Not really, just bikes.  Well, a little bit of women, mainly how confusing they are.  Hehe.

We decided to go for a ride the next day before the dinner.  We were going to head down 550 to Ridgway, then head southwest to Telluride, then Cortez, then Mesa Verde, then on to Durango, Silverton, Ouray, and back to Montrose.  Basically it would be the San Juan Skyway which includes the Million Dollar Highway.  Mesa Verde was on my list, so it sounded good to me.

We eventually went to sleep, which ended this mainly uneventful day.

[opus]

Day Six - Wednesday, June 22
Montrose, CO to Mesa Verde, CO to Montrose, CO
~340  Miles





(Part One)

Today is the first day of the National!  This is the main reason I’m on this trip at all.  As usual, even though I stayed up until 10 or 11, I wake up on my own around 4:30 or 5:00.  RonC is still sleeping away like a sane person, while I’m wide awake.  I decided to blow some time by trying to find a Denny’s or Sheri’s or something that’s open 24 hours.

I quietly left the motel room and saw this guy stuck to the wall.  I know this size of moth is probably commonplace, but not where I’m from.  Decided to get a picture for the hell of it…



[Big-arse moth]


I had my first squidly moment of the day when I decided to try out this whole “no gear, no helmet, no common sense” thing.  I actually rode down to the Denny’s wearing shorts, sandals, and a T-shirt.  Of course, there was almost no traffic, and I never went over 25, but still…  hehe.

Had breakfast, killed some time, then came back to the motel.  Woke RonC up on accident, then we started talking about bikes and the trip again.  We eventually packed up all of our stuff, then we headed over to the Red Arrow.  I dropped off my dry bag, sleeping pad, and saddlebags so my baby would be less encumbered during today’s ride.

We looked around a little, but didn’t see any obvious gathering of bikes at the motel.  Man, if I had known that *nothing* was going to happen on Tuesday and Wednesday until the dinner, I would have camped in a National park Tuesday night somewhere, and had a good ride Wednesday.  Oh well.  I’ll learn for next time.

Regardless, RonC and I had a good ride, so that made up for it.  We headed out down Highway 550 towards Ridgway, and then took a right heading west on Highway 145.

I think the following picture was taken on 550 before Ridgway, but I don’t remember.



[Pretty shot of a river]

Heading west on 145 was really pretty, with lots of nice shots of the Rockies.  I can’t describe how cool it is riding around among them.  It really makes the world seem majestic.



[Rockies]

Here’s RonC on his sweet FJR 1300.  I meant to get a picture of the little gorilla he has riding around on the back of his bike, but I forgot.  I’m sure RonC can post one, though.  =)



[RonC and his b*tchin' FJR]

Here’s another one of the Rockies, followed by my first attempt at a cobbled together panoramic shot.



[Rockies]


[Panoramic shot of the Rockies]

Full Size


We kept heading down 145 until we came to Telluride, which is a really nice town.  They have a really nice mountain stream/river/whatever coming down the mountain as a backdrop, and then a waterfall.  Very pretty.  



[Telluride]



[Telluride]


We stopped for a bit and cooled off at the entrance to a city park.  I didn’t go into the park, but the stream running past the entrance was very cool.



[Telluride]



[Telluride]



[Telluride]



[Telluride]


Here’s a shot of main street in Telluride…



[Telluride]


And more of the park entrance…



[Telluride]



[Telluride]



[Telluride]



[Telluride]

[opus]

Day Six

(Part Two)


Here are a few more shots of the mountain and the waterfall.  It looks like there’s a road crisscrossing it’s way up the slope as well.



[Telluride]



[Telluride]



[Telluride]



[Telluride]



[Telluride]


We left Telluride and continued down 145 towards Delores and Cortez.  I decided to get a bit risky and try out my throttle lock.  I was trying to get some on-bike pictures of RonC.  I had the camera out (riding with no hands) and was juuuuust about to take a picture when these guys rode by.  I couldn’t resist, and took their picture.  The guy on our left is looking at me like I’m an idiot.  Hilarious.



["Is that guy taking a freaking picture???"]


Here are a couple of shots of RonC.  He didn’t know I was taking the pictures, otherwise I’m sure he’d be doing some wheelies or scraping pegs around the next corner.  He’s a wild man.



[RonC]



[RonC]


RonC and I stopped in Rico, CO for some lunch, but it’s turning into a deserted mining town.  We had to continue on to Delores.  That worked out well, because the restaurant where we stopped made a mean club sandwich.

While we were eating lunch, RonC brought up the point that it was getting on in the day and he had already seen Mesa Verde many times.  He inquired about splitting up, with me going on to Mesa Verde, and him continuing on to Durango.  I said I didn’t mind, and kind of halfway figured I’d catch up to him anyway.  RonC and I have *slightly* different riding styles, if you catch my drift.

So, I finished my lunch early and headed towards Mesa Verde.  Well, let me tell you.  If I had realized that the cliff dwelling were 20 freaking miles off of Highway 160, at 35 MPH, I might have saved them for another day.  I was able to pass like a mofo on the way up, but coming down I got behind a park ranger.  I had heard they can dish out tickets, so I ended up doing 30 MPH for 15 miles behind this guy.  AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!

Anyway, here are a bunch of pictures of the cliff dwellings.  I took a required anthropology class for my degree, which I thought I was going to hate, but I turned out liking it.  My favorite part of the class was the Anasazi, a people thought to be ancestors of the Pueblo Indians.  They inhabited the Four Corners country of southern Utah, southwestern Colorado, northwestern New Mexico, and northern Arizona from about A.D. 200 to A.D. 1300.  I think I liked them probably because they aren’t in South America or Europe, they were right here in North America.  I would love to do a Southwest trip in a car and take the time to poke around all the sites.



[Mesa Verde]



[Mesa Verde]



[Mesa Verde]



[Mesa Verde]



[Mesa Verde]



[Mesa Verde]



[Mesa Verde]



[Mesa Verde]



[Mesa Verde]


Here’s looking out from the top of the mesa on the way back down…



[Mesa Verde]


So, after crawling back down the mesa to 160, I look at my handy dashboard clock and it’s 4:15.  CRAP!!!  The dinner is at 6:00 back in Montrose.  I didn’t realize it would take this long.

So now I’m thinking I need to hurry back.  I considered heading towards Durango and then taking 550, but I was in a hurry and hadn’t been that way before.  We hadn’t seen hardly any (if at all) police presence on the way down through Telluride, so I decided to go back that way to make time.

I headed back up through Delores and made my way to Telluride.  About 20 miles outside of Telluride, the later-to-become-familiar afternoon thundershowers were building up.  There was thunder and lightning like I hadn’t seen since South Carolina and Georgia.  It started raining pretty good about the same time.  There is a stop sign and turn lane right outside of Telluride to continue going north on 145.  A semi truck was trying to turn left and couldn’t find a gap, so about 20 of us sat there for 10 minutes waiting.  The whole time lighting was hitting the top of the ridge right above us.  There was NO lag in the thunder.  Like CRACK!!! RUMBLE!!!  Crazy, man.

Riiiiiiiiiiiight before I got up to the stop sign, it started hailing like a bast*rd.  The road instantly turned into mishap at a ball bearing factory.  I’m thinking “Uh.  No, thanks.”  I turned around from my newly-won spot at the stop sign and headed back to the gas station close by.

Here’s a shot from under the canopy.



[Thunderstorm outside of Telluride]


And here’s a shot of some of the hail that hit me.  Those things hurt!  These are also melted about half way.



[Hail.  Duh.]


I got back on the road with my wet gloves (I didn’t think to pack my rain gloves today.  It’s freaking 85 degrees, you know? ) after the thunderstorm had passed.  I managed to catch up to it two or three more times on the way home, but never got hailed on again.

Let me say that my Pilot Roads handled most excellently in the rain.  I would never have done some of the passing and cornering I did on my stock Bridgestone 020’s.  Kudos to Michelin.

I finally got back to the motel around 6:15 or 6:30.  Not too shabby for leaving Mesa Verde around 4:15.  It’s 170 miles from Mesa Verde to Montrose.  Add in stopping at the gas station for 20 minutes, plus slow-arse drivers, and you get a decent rate of speed.  Nice!

Had dinner with everyone and had a great time.  I didn’t win anything at the raffle, though.  I was hoping for a tiny calendar or some tattoos.  Oh well, maybe next time.  I didn’t take any pictures of the dinner, either.  I forget to take any shots of non-scenery for my trip reports.  I run into interesting people and things, and later wish I had a photo of them.

I hung out for a while and B.S.’d with all the other ST.Ners, then headed up for bed.  I had tried to pin down some group rides for the next day, but it seemed like nobody knew what they were doing.  I went to bed not knowing what I’d be doing the next day.  I was hoping to ride north or east, considering that I had already done the Telluride run and Mesa Verde.  Also, I planned on taking 550 through Durango on my way to Four Corners on Friday, so I didn’t want to do that either.  Little did I know that my plans would get radically changed for the rest of the trip.

[opus]

Day Seven - Thursday, June 23
Montrose, CO to Durango, CO to Montrose, CO
~300 Miles





Woke up in the morning with no clear idea of where I would be riding today, which kind of bothered me.  I’m ok with winging it, but I’d like to have a general idea.  I hadn’t made riding plans with anyone the night before, so I got dressed and headed out to the parking lot to see if I could go along with a group.

After talking to some small groups of riders (can’t remember who all I talked to), it seemed that almost everyone was doing some variation of the San Juan Skyway/Million Dollar Highway loop.  I had already been down the San Juan Skyway twice, once on the way to Mesa Verde with RonC, then again on my frantic solo ride back to the dinner after taking way too long at Mesa Verde.  Also, I planned on leaving the next morning and taking the Million Dollar Highway, so I didn’t really want to ride that side of the loop either.

I hung around for a while, and eventually talked to MisterEd, who said he was riding with DredHeadV2.0, the SV guys (did I meet you?), and, er, some other people.  My memory sucks.  Anyway, they were doing Mesa Verde, the Million Dollar Highway, etc.  Sigh.  Talked to RonC, he was going to do a relaxed ride down the Million Dollar Highway with some other “relaxed-pace” gentlemen.  Double sigh...

I wandered around for a bit more, then looked around.  All I could see were the “relaxed-pace” people.  I’m thinking “Oh, man.  I’d rather repeat a ride with the faster paced riders rather then poke along (no offense) with the relaxed-pace people.”  I went back into the breakfast area and told RonC that I was going to catch up with MisterEd and the others.  At that point, my new future riding buddy made herself known.  

Brianne (aka bcorn) asked if she could tag along with me as I tried to catch up to the group.  I said sure.  We talked about pace for a bit, and I said that I mostly do 8-12 over, and do enjoying passing quite a bit.  She said “You won’t lose me...”  hehe.

We get out on the road and start heading down 550 South.  I’m in the lead and we come up to a large group of cagers, all lined up like sheep, one behind the other.  I dropped a couple of gears and started passing the first four or five.  I looked in my mirrors to see if bcorn was going to be able to find a spot to pass and DAMN!  She’s right on my six, looking like I’m going too slow for her.  Hmm, not quite what I expected.  She *IS* riding an XX, though.  Double hmm...

I can’t remember what spot it was exactly, somewhere before or after Ridgway, but somewhere in there bcorn decided that I wasn’t going fast enough.  I had just dropped a couple of gears, went wfo, and started passing about two or three cars in a row.  All of a sudden on my left goes bcorn like I’m standing still.  Up until that point I hadn’t ever felt like the VFR was underpowered, but DAMN!  Hehe.  She picks up the pace, so I followed along behind like the spanked VFR that I was.  We uh, “kept a spirited pace” until we came up to the group.  They had pulled off to take some pictures.  We pulled over and said hello to everyone.  I talked to bcorn and we decided to go ahead on our own.  I think we kind of felt we had similar riding styles (but not similar HP) and didn’t want mess with a good thing.  I was a bit worried about speeding tickets (shutup, people) so I mentioned it to bcorn.  She said she would take the hit and lead.  I said that was fine with me.  

We rode for a while, then came upon this really beautiful lake.  I swear, the Rockies are the most grand, majestic and awe-inspiring place I’ve been in the U.S.  Going through Zion was wonderful, but it didn’t hit me like the Rockies did.  I didn’t make it to the Grand Canyon, but I think it would be a tie at most.  It’s more the overall effect of the Rockies rather than one specific spot.  Anyway...



[Really pretty mountain lake]


We got back on the bikes and headed towards Telluride.  We got to Telluride after a bit, but ended up not stopping.  I had been there the day before, and I think bcorn was planning on stopping some other time.  I’m not sure.  Regardless, we got back on 145 and headed down through Delores, then bypassed Cortez, got then got onto 160 heading east towards Durango.  

Looking through my pictures, I’m realizing I didn’t take too many pictures on this trip.  Probably because I was having too much damn fun.  =)  This was the best ride I’d ever had since I got my VFR.  Hell, in my motorcycling career.  Thanks, bcorn!

I’m a bit sketchy on some of the location details for this next bit.  We went through Durango without stopping, then headed north towards Silverton.  I *think* it was Silverton where we had lunch, but I’m not sure.

I’m not sure if this is Molas Pass, or Red Mountain Pass.  Someone from Colorado might be able to say, but those mountains all look the same to me!  hehe

Here’s a panoramic shot of whatever pass it was.




Full Size

We had stopped at a rest area to take some pictures, and I managed to get the panoramic shot above, and this one of bcorn when it started to hail.  Damn, those hurt a bit.



[bcorn with the Rockies as a backdrop]


[Hail!]


We ran for cover under the restroom overhang.  I then realized that I had left my tankbag with all my electronics on the bike.  Ran for my bike, then ran back.  bcorn obviously thought that was worthy of a picture...



[opus getting pelted]

A few minutes later, we were surrounded by Harley riders with no gear.  (Edited to add that I meant no rain gear.  Most of them had some sort of leather on. )

These people were soaked to the bone, most of them wearing chaps and vests over denim.  Not good in the rain and hail, people.  I felt guilty for a second for being toasty warm and dry, then the second passed I was back to feeling good about being prepared for the ride.  I also felt good about the amount of material between me and the road.  ATGATT, baby!

Here’s a shot of me looking amused at our new awning-mates.



[Sesame Street Flashback!  "One of these things is not like the others..."]

And here’s one of the Harley people heading back to their bikes to check for dents from the hail.  hehe.  That one girl in the foreground was a cutie, and looked kind of out of place from the group.  The rest of them were the weathered, gnarly type.  I think she was riding pillion behind some guy, probably her dad.  At least she sort of had a helmet on.  Most of them had none.



[Damn!  I got a puddle on ma seat!]

Ok, I think that was Molas Pass we just went over, because this picture was taken where we had lunch, and I think that was Silverton.  Dunno.  Gotta start taking better notes!



[bcorn next to a nice hi-wheeler]

Got back on the road after lunch and headed north again.  I think these pictures were close to or going over Red Mountain pass.  Anyone recognize the waterfall?



[Unknown waterfall]



[Unknown waterfall]



[Unknown waterfall]


Um, some mountain.  Gosh they all kind of look alike, eh?



[Some mountain]


Ok, we then went north through Ouray (where I later had my run-in with The Man), Ridgway, and finally back to Montrose.  We lined the babies up for some glamour shots, and made use of my mini tripod.  =)



[Now you don't see them...]



[Now you do...]



[Black Beauties]



[Black Beauties]


After a while the rest of the groups filtered in and started showing up at the motel.  Man, our bikes look like the black sheep of the group sitting there all alone.  Black sheep.  Black.  Get it?  Never mind...



[Black Sheep]


Of course we had to get some group shots!  



[Group Shot]


[Group Shot]


After that bcorn and I headed over to the informal group dinner.  We hung out for a little bit, then ended up going and having dinner with bcorn’s friend Jennifer The Park Ranger.  After that bcorn and I were talking and we decided to get together the next morning for some action shots of the bikes in action.  She knew of a road that went down into the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, and I liked the “pass” outside of Montrose to the east, on the way to Gunnison.

After that, I would continue on with my SouthWest trip and head towards Four Corners.  She was planning on heading east to Pike’s Peak for the annual Hill Climb.  Of course, my plans were going to get changed a bit.  Just a little...

[opus]

Day Eight - Friday, June 24
Montrose, CO to Pike’s Peak, CO
~420 Miles

(Part One)





Woke up this morning with a grin on my face.  bcorn and I were going to meet up for some corner shots of us on the bikes.   Sounds good to me!  After that I would be heading down 550 towards Durango, west to Four Corners, then north through Utah for the major National Parks.   bcorn would be heading east towards Colorado Springs.
 
bcorn was staying with a friend outside of Montrose up at the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park.  She knew of a road going down into the canyon that would be good for some tight corners.  We got together around 6:30 or so, then headed down into the canyon.   There were definitely some tight corners, several that were 10 MPH.  I'll admit right now that 25 and under corners really made me nervous at that point.   I just didn't have enough experience with them.  I got some experience during the WCRM I in Eureka, but not enough to be super comfortable.
 
bcorn was definitely comfortable with them, and I would have to go so far as to say she was in her element.  She was taking those corners way faster than I could.  We got down to the bottom to check it out, and then headed back up.  We stopped at a particular 10 MPH corner that had a large gravel turnout on the right side.  We got off the bikes and talked about taking some shots.

Here's a shot of me looking like a big stuffed marshmallow.  Of course, all smart marshmallows wear their gear all the time.

 

[A Big Marshmallow]


I headed back down the road a bit, then turned around and headed back up.  bcorn got a nice shot of the canyon, with an itty-bitty opus in the lower right hand corner.



[Black Canyon of the Gunnison]

Full Size


The first time I went around the left hander where bcorn was, I scraped my left peg.   That, of course, startled the crap out of me.  I *never* thought I would ever scrape a peg.  I had tried to do it in a parking lot once, and the closest I got was to scrape my boot for a second.   After I moved up onto the ball of my foot, I couldn't go any lower without panicking.  So, scraping my peg was sort of a big deal for me.   Sweet!



















I went back and forth a couple of times, then bcorn and I swapped spots.  Man, she's a lot better at cornering than I am.   She was taking that 10 MPH corner very nicely.  I don't remember if she scraped her pegs or not, but she did drag bodywork.   That's a bit more impressive in my book.  hehe.  Oh yeah, she did drag the centerstand a couple of times.

XX guys, eat your hearts out!

 

[bcorn getting her corner on]

 


 


 


After that, we headed up the road and headed east on 50 towards my favorite corners of the trip.  I can't remember exactly where they are, but they're somewhere around Cimarron.  Leanintree says it’s Cerro Summit.  Regardless, it’s got a bunch of 35 and 40 MPH corners.  When I came into Montrose the first time on Tuesday, I had a crapload of fun on these corners.   So much, in fact, that I turned around at the bottom and went back up to the top, then came back down again.  I was literally giggling in my helmet.   Too much fun, and one of the reasons I love riding.
 
Anyway, bcorn and I stopped on a 35 MPH corner, then I started doing passes back and forth.  After a couple of passes, I got confident enough to get this shot.   I'm sure some of you have seen it because I've trotted it out whenever I could on various threads.  
 

[Thar be sparks here!!! ]
 
Full Size


Man, that was fun.  I scraped the peg almost the whole way around the corner.   This is especially amusing because I had scraped a peg for the first time not 30 minutes earlier.  hehe.  bcorn got some other good shots as well.
 



This one looks like I've got my eyes closed, but trust me, I don't!  hehe.




 


 


 
And of course we need one of bcorn.  Apparently I kind of suck as a photographer, because this is the only one she sent me from this corner.  =(

[opus]

Day Eight (Part Two)
 
So at this point, bcorn and I were supposed to part our ways.  We talked for a bit and decided to go have breakfast in Sapinero before she headed north on 92 and I headed back to Gunnison and then south on 550 to Durango.
 
We got back on the road and must have driven by Sapinero on accident.  We didn't really see anything that would qualify as a town, let alone somewhere to eat.   We tried a marina on the Blue Mesa Reservoir, but the restaurant wasn't open yet.  While we were stopped, bcorn mentioned that anywhere above 90 MPH or so she got a shimmy from her front tire.   She checked her front rim and found some rocks and tar stuck to it.  Hopefully that was the source of the shimmy.



 

We got back on the road and ended up going all the way to Gunnison for breakfast.  On the highway into town, we came up on several cars in a group.   bcorn decided to pass them on a corner, and the last car in line decided he wanted to block her.  This jerk almost clipped her!   For a second there her bike was inches away from his door.  She backed off, then passed him on a straight.  I started to pass him, and he pulled the same crap on me.   I was waiting for it, though, and went really wide around him.  What the hell is up with this guy?  We soon left him behind (or so we thought... ).
 
Stopped at a little bakery/breakfast type place and ate.  bcorn mentioned that the shimmy was still present in her front wheel.   We finished eating and headed back to a couple of motorcycle dealers that were on the same little strip of road off the main highway.  She asked the first dealer how much a balance would be if she took the wheel off and handed it to them.   I believe it was around $40-$50.  Might have been more, I can't recall the exact amount.  It was ridiculous, that's for sure.
 
We went next door to the KTM/Yamaha dealer and asked them.  I'm not sure what they told her, but it was better than the previous people.   She went outside and talked to the guys in the shop while I looked around the parts department.
 
Some guy who works there comes up to me and asks if I'm the guy on the black bike out front.  I said "Yes", and he said "You probably want to be more careful when you pass people.   That was pretty irresponsible."  I said "Did I pass you sometime earlier?" and he says he was the last guy in that line of cars.   This is the a**hole who tried to clip us!  I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing by moving over, and he says that a lot of people have gotten hurt on that corner and he was trying to prevent us from passing in a dangerous spot.   ???  What the hell?
 
I said "You work in a motorcycle shop and you tried to block us?  I think that's a hell of a lot more irresponsible than passing on a corner.   You almost clipped us!"  He goes on for a bit about a lot of people getting hurt around there.  I also realized at that point that he thought I was the rider in front that was passing on the corner.
 
I could see that I wasn't going to get anywhere with this guy, plus bcorn was probably going to get some work done there.   Normally I would have gone ballistic on this guy, but I kept my temper in check.  I could tell this guy was one of those little weasel types, and you just can't win when you argue with them.   It requires common sense from both parties.  I went back outside and talked to bcorn.  She said the guys in the shop told her that it was most likely the tire and balancing it wouldn't help.   She decided to get a new tire put on.  Long story short, the guys in the shop were really nice, the parts guy was a jerk, she got a new tire, and the shimmy went away.   Nice.




Oh yeah.  Forgot to mention that bcorn removed and reinstalled the wheel herself.  Is she cool or what?

Somewhere in all of this, I can't remember if it was at breakfast or at the dealer, bcorn mentioned it was too bad that I wasn't heading in the same direction as her.   She was planning on going to the Pike's Peak International Hill Climb the next day outside of Colorado Springs.  She wanted to head north up 92, go through Aspen, head over Independence Pass, then end up at Pike's Peak later that evening.
 
I thought about it for a bit and came to a realization.  My plans up to and including the National were pretty set in stone.   I left on Friday morning, and had to get to Montrose by Tuesday afternoon.  Now that the National was over, I had ten days to make my way down through the Four Corners, Utah, Las Vegas, L.A. to see my brother, then up the CA coast to Seaside, Oregon to see my friend from Ohio.  I had to be in Seaside sometime on Sunday, July 3rd.   I had a lot of leeway on how long I took to get to L.A., and how long I spent in CA.  I planned on slabbing up I-5 in Oregon on the 3rd as I was familiar with the Coast.   I'd rather spend the time in California.
 
Anyway, I realized that I could be doing one of two things later today:
 
1)       Taking pictures of rocks.  Alone.
2)       Hanging out with this sportbike chick from Texas and ripping up some roads.
 
Hmm...  Tough choice.  
 
So, bcorn and I headed back west for a bit, then turned to go up 92 towards Hotchkiss, Aspen, Independence Pass, and finally Pike's Peak.   I have to tell you, I was really liking this new twist in my trip.  I had never run into anyone that liked to ride and pass like I did, let alone a pretty girl.   Suh-weet!  hehe.
 
Of course, I just Murphy’s Lawed myself into some trouble.

I don't know if it was my good mood, the techno music thumping in my new Etymotic ER6i's (damn you, BMW-K), or my newfound peg-scraping ability, but I got out of my league on 92.   I was out in front because we knew that I was the slower rider in the twisties, and I'm guessing she didn't want to lose me (a very real possibility.)   Maybe she was worried about me on the corners too, dunno.
 
Anyway, I was moving along at a good clip and had taken three or four successive 25 MPH corners in a row pretty aggressively when all of a sudden there was a sharp right-hander.   I started to lean over and the road just disappeared, or so it appeared to me.  It was a really nice decreasing-radius, blind right-hander with a down slope.   I'm thinking "HEY!  WHERE'D THE DAMN ROAD GO!!!?!??!"
 
I stood it up, got on the brakes hard, got it almost stopped, then went off the road.  Sigh.   This would be my second get-off.  At least the girl on the sportbike was behind me this time, so I couldn't be accused of chasing another girl...
 
I went off a mild slope into some brush.  I probably could have kept it upright except I hit a really large bump which upset the bike to the right, which threw me off.   The bike basically just fell over onto the right side.
 
bcorn came running up to see if I was ok, which I was.  No bruises, boo-boos, or owwies at all.   Amazing.  Got the bike standing up and checked it out.  I had a couple of really small scuffs down on the fairing, right above where the fairing goes flat for the underside.   With the asphalt paint and the fact that it's so low, you can't even notice it.  I also got a teeny scratch on the right mirror.   That's it.  Whew.
 
bcorn wanted to take a picture while the bike was down, but I said no.  hehe.   Partly because I wanted to get the bike stood up, and partly because it was damn embarrassing.    I don’t think having the bike on its side is good for it, is it?  Doesn’t seem like it would be.
 
We got back on the road, and I had a new frame of mind.  No more would I try to speed through the 25 MPH and lower twisties.  Obviously I had a lot of learning to do before I was to become good at it.  Give me a 35-45 MPH sweeper any day...
 
Up the road a bit was a rest stop/lookout, and we pulled over.  There was a really great view of a mountain lake too.  Her camera takes way better pictures than mine, so here’s hers:
 


Full Size
 
I let bcorn go on ahead because this was her place to have some fun.  I took my time and eventually caught up to her after the twisties were over.  We went through Hotchkiss, then started heading north on Highway 133 towards Carbondale.  I think we stopped at Carbondale for a snack.  I know we stopped *somewhere*, and I think that was it.  We were eventually going to hit Aspen after we hooked up with Highway 82 and went east again.
 
The funny thing to note here is that we decided to wait on lunch until Aspen.  I agreed to it, I just forgot about it later.  So, we get back on the road, hit 82 just north of Carbondale, then head east.  We ride for a while, then finally get to Aspen.
 
Now, I’m wearing my full textile suit: Roadgear non-mesh jacket and FirstGear HT Overpants, which are also non-mesh.  I’ve been doing OK on this trip so far, as long as I keep moving.  If I spend more than a few minutes stopped, or if I get below 25 MPH for a decent amount of time, I start getting really hot and uncomfortable.
 
So, we finally hit Aspen.  It’s a popular town and there’s a lot of traffic.  It takes us a bit of time to get from one end of the town to the other.  Ok, the funny part is that I’ve totally forgotten that we’re stopping here for lunch.  So, we get to the end of town and the highway starts back up.  I’m thinking “THANK GOD!!! “  However, bcorn is thinking “This is a really good place to turn around.”  Which she does.

I see her turn around and I’m just about screaming in my helmet.  “Where the hell is she going!?!?!?  ARRRGGHHH!!!!”  So, I follow her for a bit through the streets.  She’s stopping here and there, looking around for somewhere to eat.  I’m following her thinking “JUST FREAKING GO!!!”  At this point I don’t care whether we stop or go...  “JUST FREAKING PARK!!!”

She’s looking at me like “Is this a good spot?”  and I’m thinking “Why are we here?  Jesus H. CHRIST!!!!”  Looking back it’s really funny, but at the time I was really frustrated.  And, it was all my fault.  
 
We finally park and I realize that we were supposed to eat lunch here.  “Oh.  Duh.”  I think.  Nooooooooooooooooow I understand.  Errr...  Time to lighten up, eh?  Seriously, it was because I was so hot in my gear.  Oh well.

So, we wander around for a bit in Aspen.  Honestly, I pictured Aspen being a lot different.  I know you always see pictures of it in the winter with snow, but still…  I guess I was expecting it to be high up on a peak or something.

Got a shot of the ski lift, and also one of the bikes at a street corner.  We finally found a pizza place that advertised New York Pizza.  Sounds good to me.  We ate there, and it was pretty good.  Probably the cheapest food in town except for McDonald’s as well.  bcorn said it tasted like real New York pizza.  I’ll have to take her word on it.








We finally left Aspen.  The road going east out of town is really cool.  It goes through some really pretty trees for a bit, and also has a no-centerline, cliff-hugging section.  It felt like we were in the Alps for a second there.  Well, what I’m guessing the Alps are like.  That’ll be a future trip.  

I had to pull over on the side of the road for a minute because I thought I smelled something getting hot.  I didn’t find anything, though.  In reflection, it might have been my regulator/rectifier starting to die.  Dunno.  Anyway, bcorn got pretty far ahead.  I finally came out into this mountain valley that was gorgeous. Turns out it was the beginning of Independence Pass.  bcorn was waiting most of the way to the top of the pass.  I pulled over and we took some pictures.  One of them was of this guy playing a violin.  I’m not sure if it was for something professional or what.  It was really surreal, though.  Cool too.





This is a nice shot of the road I just came in on.  Isn’t that breathtaking?





We also took a couple shots next to a waterfall.  This was on my desktop for a while.





Up at the top of the pass we ran into some snow.  bcorn took the opportunity to pelt me with a snowball.  Haha.





After Independence Pass, 82 kept heading east, finally hitting Highway 24.  We took 24 south for a while, taking a left at Buena Vista.  From Buena Vista to Pike’s Peak, we were basically on a speed run.  It was getting late in the day, and we wanted to get to Pike’s Peak, buy tickets to the Hill Climb, then I was going to set up camp and I think bcorn was going to get a motel room.

I’m not going to go into too much detail, but let me say that my luggage has now been speed and endurance tested.  Like, as much as possible. You can figure that out.  What’s really funny is that bcorn had to slow down occasionally to let me catch up.  Even though her XX was carbureted and about 7000 feet above it’s normal sea level, she was still kicking my arse.  Too funny.

The really funny thing is that it was starting to get dark and I couldn’t quite make out the cars coming towards me very well.  As in, I was having a hard time figuring out if some of them needed more attention that the others.  Ahem.  Anyway, I then realized that if anyone *was* going to be paying more attention to us, I would have seen some serious activity up ahead as bcorn passed them.  So, I kind of stopped worrying about it.

But, as I came over a small rise, I passed a cop going the other way.  Oh crap.  I was definitely speed-testing my bags at that point.  I started to get off the throttle to slow down when I realized that he had just passed somebody who was speed-testing more than I was.  I watched my mirrors for a bit, and he never even hit his brakes.  Crazy.  Lucky, but crazy.

We pulled over a bit later to get gas, and this is what I looked like.  Nice!



We finally made it to the gate at Pike’s Peak around, oh, 8:00?  Somewhere around there.  Talked to the guy at the gate who said that tickets tonight would be like $10 less than tomorrow morning.  We decided that we would go hit a bank machine, set up camp somewhere, then go up and buy the tickets.  I think by this time bcorn was just going to set up camp next to me instead of get a room.  We headed back up the highway for a bit, pulled out some money and ate dinner at Burger King.

On the way back to Pike’s Peak we looked around for a campsite, but couldn’t find any.  By this time it was raining a little and really dark out.  We decided to go back up to the gate and get that taken care of first.  We parked the bikes and bought our tickets.  Now, by this time it was like 9:30 or so.  The gate opens at 4:00 AM.  We looked around and noticed that there were already a bunch of people parked there, waiting for a good spot the next morning.  Some of them had even set up tents.

Hmmm…  We realized it didn’t make much sense to go make camp when we would just have to return in six hours.  We moved the bikes to a better spot and set up my tent.  While we were setting up, we met a really nice guy named Orville who was riding a Gold Wing.  This is the only shot I have of him.  Unfortunately it’s out of focus and the lighting is horrible.





We talked for a while, then I dozed off and on until around 2:00 AM.  In just a few hours we would be riding our bikes up the Pike’s Peak International Hill Climb.  Of course, yours truly didn’t realize that we would be riding up the actual track.  I hadn’t ever been here before, nor watched a race on TV.  I thought that we were going to be riding on a road that would get us to a spot to watch the track.  Nope.  But that’s part of tomorrow’s story.  

[opus]

Day Nine - Saturday, June 25
Pike’s Peak, CO to  Woodland Park, CO
~24 Miles

After drifting in and out of groggy half-sleep for an hour or two, I finally got up.  Crawled out of the tent and started chatting with bcorn, Orville, and Todd on the KTM 950 Adventure.  By this time it was close to 3:00 AM, and the gates were supposed to open at 4:00.

A little after 3:00, we heard that they were going to open the gates early at 3:30.  bcorn and I quickly started packing up the tent.  For some reason it always takes me longer than expected to pack up my stuff.  It was kind of a running joke during my time with bcorn that normally she was always the last one to get ready, and it was a nice change of pace for it to be someone else.  Kind of funny, kind of not.  =)

Anyway, we finally got everything packed up and were ready to go.  By this time there were hundreds of cars lined up on the entry road, all the way to the gate.  The people at the gate said we could go to the front of the line as we were on bikes.  You have to admit that it’s really nice when that happens.  Why doesn’t everyone have that mentality?

They finally opened the gates and started to let people in.  Woot!  Here we go!  Whoops, here we stop...  Where’s my ticket again?  Crap!  Ah, there it is.  They had two lanes open, and bcorn ended up in the right lane, and I was in the left.  bcorn and Todd took off ahead of me in the right lane.  I heard one of the traffic guides say that both lanes were open and to use both.  I kept in the left lane and eventually caught up to bcorn and Scott.  They must not have known you could use both lanes because they were stuck behind some slow cars and were hesitant about passing.  I passed them and waved for them to come on over.

They followed me for a bit, but after they realized I was taking it easy they both shot ahead.  Keep in mind that I was still hesitant about sharp corners, plus it was pitch black out with no lighting.  This was the side of a freaking mountain after all.  There were also some slippery spots in the road due to dirt, clay or something like that.  All of it added up to one slow and easy opus.  I had my high beams on as much as possible, but bcorn later told me it was like a small sun was following her and Todd up the road.  Whoops!  Sorry…

So after a while I pass what looks a lot like a starting gate, with tents on both sides for cars to be prepped before the race.  “Hmmm...” I think.  “This must be where the race starts.  Where’s the track?”  Not too long after that the road goes to hard packed dirt and I start to realize this *IS* the freaking track.  So now the road starts to get really interesting.  Like “a crapload of 10 MPH switchbacks” interesting.  Like “I’ve never ridden on dirt before, and now I’m climbing up Pike’s Freaking Peak at 4:00 AM in the dark” interesting.  Like “where the Hell did everyone else go?” interesting.  Riiiiiiight…

I was pretty sure that I hadn’t gone past the place where we were supposed to all meet, but I wasn’t sure.  Devil’s Playground, if I remember correctly.  I pulled over and started looking at the course map.  A bit after that, Orville comes riding up on his metallic orange GoldWing.  I told him I wasn’t sure where I was going.  He knew, so I followed him the rest of the way.  We finally get to a huge dirt parking area.  We find the other bikes, but the slope that they’ve parked on is really steep, at least to my eyes.  Keep in mind that it’s still pitch black outside.  No thanks, no sir.  I didn’t feel comfortable parking there, so I headed back to the other side of the lot where it was flatter.  

I walked over to the group and admitted my parking wussiness.  Orville’s bike was at such an angle that he had to point his front wheel *away* from the kickstand in order to get it to balance.  Uh-uh, no way.  The next thing on the agenda was to find a good spot to sit.  We walked along a ridge that overlooked the track until we found a good spot.  I later overheard someone say that we literally had the best spot on the entire track.  Sounds good to me!  We were about 30 feet or so away from a platform that had been set up for the TV cameras.  Looking down the mountain we could see a trail of headlights winding all the way down the mountain back to the gate.  We’re talking 19 miles of cars.  What a sight.  It was very surreal.  We could also see Colorado Springs off to the southeast, sparkling in the night.  Very pretty.

As the race wasn’t even going to start for four and a half more hours, we decided to try and catch a bit more sleep.  I was still in all of my riding gear for warmth as it was around 45-50 degrees out.  I wrapped my sleeping bag around me and tried to sleep, but was for the most part unsuccessful.

After a while the sun started to come up, and man was it a beautiful sight!  Colorado Springs was starting to get lit up and you could make out more of the city, whereas before it was just a mass of twinkling lights.





I hadn’t planned on being anywhere near Pike’s Peak today.  Hell, I wasn’t even aware the race was today, and barely knew anything about it.  I was supposed to be in Utah somewhere right now.  But as I was watching the sun come up, and able to look out at the world for miles and miles, I was glad I had come.  This was my first trip like this, riding out alone into the world.  As I stood there, 1500 miles or so from home, it was majestic.  I can’t wait to do another trip.

After what seemed like forever, we heard that the race was about to start.  After about five minutes I thought I heard something.  I must have been right because everyone else turned their heads as well.  Yes!  Off in the distance, being carried all the way up the mountain, came music to our ears - “bbbbbbbbwwwwwwWWWWWWWAAAAA!!!!   BUH-BWWWAAAAAAA!!!!!”  The race had finally started.  We looked miles down the mountain and saw a miniscule rally car waaaaaaaaaaaay down there.  It looked about as big as an ant, really.  We watched it climb its way up the track, taking switchback after switchback.  From our spot we could see just about everything.





I’m not going to talk about the rally racing any more except to say that it was really exciting and I’d love to go again.

Here are a few miscellaneous shots:

























This last one has Orville on the left, then Todd The KTM Guy, then some guy that races motorcycles at Baja, the V-Strom guy in the back, then the Baja guy’s friend.  Can’t remember their names.

A couple of miscellaneous notes…  I talked to Todd (with the KTM) during the races and he told me that bcorn beat him to the top of the track when the gates opened!  He said she was taking the straights doing 60 or 70 and sliding around the corners.  “She was kicking her legs out like she was on a dirt track, and making rooster tails on almost every corner!”  He was really impressed, and so was I.  bcorn is one Hell of a rider.  Also, at one point during the race we saw a few snowflakes.  Too cool.  I also met another rider on a V-Strom, who was from Washington as well.  Nice.
 
After the races were over, we started packing everything up.  As was becoming the routine with bcorn and myself, I was the last one ready.  That’s OK, I’m just methodical.  As we started lining up to leave, one painful fact became clear: First up, last down.  We now had several hundred (thousand? ) cars in front of us.  bcorn and Todd went first as before while I took the corners easy.  Everyone was going single file down the mountain road, which left a lot of room on the left.  Things got tight on the corners, but not for a stealthy VFR.  Is lane-splitting legal in Colorado?  I’m sure it’s not, but oh well.
 
I started taking the outside down the road.  I got a few glares from people, but I really didn’t care at that point.  19 miles of 5 MPH or less single file?  No, thank you.  I made it down to the paved area and then came to a complete stop.  They had opened up both lanes after it turned into pavement, but it was still a nightmare.  Traffic was solid in both lanes for most of the six miles remaining before we got back to the highway.
 
I had never lane split before except for riding on the outside of the lane just a few minutes ago.  I was pretty comfortable on the VFR at low speed, however, and I’ve maneuvered my mountain bike through tight traffic for years.  I went ahead and started lane-splitting down the middle of the road.  For the most part it was fine.  I was traveling down the middle of the lane most of the time, but had to go on the outside occasionally.  At one point I was actually riding in the grass on the outside after someone went wide and I was forced over.  Go Viffer, Go!
 
The highlight of lanesplitting down the mountain had to be when I came up behind two huge Dodge trucks and one of them kind of squeezed over to the right as they stopped so I couldn’t go through the middle.  I was already at their rear bumpers so going around wouldn’t have been easy.  Both drivers were glaring at me in kind of a “Take that, varmint!  Yer lucky I ain’t got my shooter in ma truck!” kind of way.  Well, that sounds like a challenge to me.  I deliberately twisted around and looked at my right saddlebag, then my left.  Then, with full eye contact, leaned forward and pulled in both my mirrors.  I know the saddlebags stick out farther, but the mirrors were right at the same level as the bottom of their side mirrors.  I then pulled forward, and with a bit of weaving for effect, rode on through.  HA!  TAKE THAT!!!  Some people actually cheered my on.  I guess they were living vicariously.
 
Soon after that the traffic cops made the two lanes merge and then we were back to one lane.  After some nice passing moves, I caught up to bcorn and Todd.  We made our way down to the bottom of the mountain, then he took off and bcorn and I pulled over on the side of the road and parked.  bcorn had made plans for us to meet with Orville and the V-Strom guy, then head to Todd’s motel.  However, neither of them were lane-splitting, and were probably still a half hour or more up the mountain.

My plans were to take off and head west after the race and try to make up some time.  bcorn was going to stick around Colorado Springs for a drifting competition the next day at the local racetrack.  She was so tired she was about to drop, so I decided to stay with her until she got checked in to a motel somewhere.  After that we could go eat, and then I would take off for Arizona.  While we were waiting, bcorn decided that she would rather ride with me tomorrow instead of going to the drifting competition.  I was planning on taking I-25 south down to Walsenburg, then take 160 to Four Corners.  bcorn had planned on taking a northern route back to Montrose, basically repeating our trip here with a few changes.  We decided to compromise and take 115 south to Penrose, then 50 west back to Montrose.  On the way was the Royal Gorge Bridge which I had vaguely heard about, but was interested in seeing.
 
We headed north back up to Woodland Park in search of lunch and a cheap motel for bcorn to crash at.  We ended up eating at some buffet place that lured us in with the magical word “Pizza.”  It was OK, but nothing special.  By the time we left, bcorn looking like she was going to just curl up in the parking lot next to her bike.  Poor thing.
 
We had asked the waitress about cheap motels, and she gave us some general directions, making them sound relatively close.  We got on the road that she mentioned, but rode for a long time before we found any.  We rode by a couple, but they didn’t look like anywhere I’d want to stay, that’s for sure.  One place looked acceptable, but they wanted somewhere around $85 for one night.  Trust me; it wouldn’t have been worth it.  By this time it was getting close to 5:00 PM.  I told bcorn that if she found somewhere cheap I would get a room at the same motel, but if it was expensive I would just go find a campsite.
 
I thought we had found a place when we saw a sign that said $24.95, and it didn’t look too bad.  The desk was being run by an Asian lady who didn’t speak English very well.  We asked about the price of a room and she said “$27.95”.  That was $3 more than the sign, but that’s not a huge deal.  We fill out our info cards and hand them to her, and she says “42.00”.  Whaaa?  We went back and forth for a bit with “I don’t speak English.”, then we finally got frustrated and left.  bcorn asked for our info cards back, but the lady wouldn’t give them up.  bcorn actually had to wrench them out of her hand.  Crazy.  On the way out of the parking lot I saw the woman again and I yelled out “Enjoy your crap hotel, and I know you speak better English than that!”  She whipped her head around and glared at me.  hehe.

We went down the road for a bit and saw another motel that said “$24.95 for out-of-state travelers” and one other sign – “American Owned”.  Hmm…  Turns out that the other motel (and one more like it) try to pull that on a lot of people.  These guys actually gave us the rooms for the stated price.  By the time we got signed in and moved our bikes, Brianne looked about ready to pass out.  I grabbed her keys from her and lubed the chains on both of our bikes while she crashed in her room.  I went and got some bottled water and snacks, and figured that bcorn would wander out in a few hours for dinner.  However, she was so tired that I didn’t see her again until the next morning.  I went to bed around 10:00 after reading my novel for a bit.

What a busy day for only riding 24 miles…  

[opus]

Day Ten - Sunday, June 26
Woodland Park, CO To Montrose, CO
~275 Miles





As usual, I woke up early around 5:00 AM.  I shaved, showered, and packed up.  As I was planning on being in Utah somewhere later today, I finally couldn’t stand it anymore and knocked on bcorn’s door around 7:00.  We hit the road a bit after that and were on our way.  Today we would be stopping by the Royal Gorge Bridge, then heading west back to Montrose.  After that I would hopefully make it to Four Corners and into Utah.

Here’s a quick shot before we got on the road.  I had ground off part of my boot at some point during the trip.  bcorn had to show me hers as well.  Too funny.





We headed into Colorado Springs for a minute, then branched off and took 115 south to Penrose.  As I had been thoroughly enjoying the speeds we were riding at all weekend, I decided that it wasn’t fair for me to let bcorn take all the responsibility.  Plus, I was really starting to have a lot of fun with 35-40 MPH sweepers.  So, I took the lead out of Colorado Springs.  At one point bcorn seemed to be lagging behind, so I slowed down and made sure everything was cool.  She gave me the thumbs up, and I took it back up to “cruising speed.”

After Penrose we merged onto 50 going west, which eventually took us to the Royal Gorge Bridge.  Even though I was on what I considered a tight schedule, I wanted to see the bridge.  I’m glad I did.  We ended up spending a couple of hours there taking in all the sights.  We took the tram across the gorge, and then walked back across the bridge.  For those who don’t know, you have to pay to drive across the bridge.  We decided to get the complete package when we got in and rode the aerial tram, the tram/railway that goes down a 45 deg. slope to the Arkansas River, and also the Merry Go Round.  hehe.




































She’s probably going to kill me for that last one, but oh well.  





After taking in everything, we rode across the bridge.  We managed to stop traffic for a few minutes while we got some shots.  How could you resist?








While we were at the gorge, we had noticed a red helicopter flying down over the water, then flying out.  We managed to find the place, and bcorn decided to take a ride.  At $115 for 12-15 minutes, I decided to pass.  My budget for the trip was starting to take a hit and I wanted to be careful.





We got back onto 50, and consequently back to the sweepers.  I have to say, I really like the 35-45 MPH corners.  All day long I was having a blast, occasionally scraping my left peg.  I hadn’t scraped the right peg yet, though, and was actually starting to get a bit bummed out about it.

One particular corner was memorable for me, mainly in a “that was so stupid, but damn it was fun” kind of way.  bcorn and I were using hand signals for passing so the following rider would know what traffic was coming.  We were passing on double-yellow’s quite a bit, and even on some corners as long as the rider out front signaled all-clear.  Anyway, I was out front coming up on a 40 MPH left-hander.  I had just passed two or three cars and was holding up my left arm to signal no traffic.  I had to swing right to get in front of the cars I passed, then the left-hander started.  Well, I knew bcorn was behind me, so I ended up keeping my arm up for a bit while I turned into the corner.  That little bit turned into the whole corner, and I got down low enough to scrape my left peg for a few seconds.  I was doing somewhere around 80-90 MPH during the entrance to the corner and a bit less than that during the corner.

I know it was really stupid, but part of me was really comfortable doing it and I wanted to see if I could ride out the whole corner.  I had a couple of surreal moments during this trip, and taking a corner with one hand on the bars doing 80 MPH, scraping a peg, was one of them.

bcorn and I spent the rest of the day much the same way, and ended up back in Montrose late in the afternoon.  Looks like I wasn’t going to be making Four Corners today after all.  Honestly, I wasn’t that disappointed for some reason.  We stopped at Dairy Queen for a celebratory blizzard, then rode up to her friend’s place at the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park.  On the way bcorn got this shot of me:





After getting up to the park I made camp then hung out with bcorn and her friend Jennifer.  We all made plans to get together for breakfast the next morning and then said goodnight.  I went back to my campsite and realized that it gets really dark when there are *no* lights in the campground.  I’m used to state parks with showers and lights, and this was really different.  Cool, but different.  I think I heard a coyote at one point too.

I finally drifted off with the unhappy thought that bcorn and I would finally be parting ways tomorrow.

[opus]

Day Eleven - Monday, June 27
Montrose, CO To 40 Miles Outside Of Page, AZ
~490 Miles

Once again I was cursed with waking up early.  Something about being in a strange place, on the hard ground, makes me wake up early.  Go figure.  Actually, I had probably woken up ten times during the night, and after it got light I just didn’t go back to sleep.  The wind had been blowing all night and I kept having dreams about my rainfly blowing away, and even my whole tent.  Funny…

Crappy cell phone picture of my campsite:




I wandered over to the restroom to find that it was just an outhouse, really.  Hmm.  Maybe I’m spoiled on state parks?  Packed up my stuff and got everything on the bike.  I knew it was way too early to go knocking on bcorn’s friend’s door, so I decided to head into Montrose and stake out a table at Denny’s.

I had the sun at my back heading into town, and got this picture.  Nothing fancy, but kind of neat.





I called Brianne from the Denny’s and she said they would come and meet me.  While I was waiting I had time to reflect on my new friendship with Brianne.  The fact that we were now friends was pretty amazing, really.  Think about it.  Two people who don’t know each other set out on first-time motorcycle adventures from towns that are 2500 miles apart.  They both end up in the tiny town of Montrose, Colorado of all places.  Brianne just happens to ride by my hotel the night of the meet dinner and see 60 or 70 bikes parked out front.  We meet each other the next morning for the first time and end up riding together for 1000 miles over the next four days.  How can you ever expect something like that to happen?  I’d like to officially thank Fate for the chance to make such a good friend.

Brianne and Jennifer showed up after a while and we had breakfast.  I was sad to go, but she was heading southeast, and I was heading southwest.  Maybe we could meet again someday for another adventure.  We said our goodbyes, then I headed south on 550 towards Ouray.  I had only done the Ouray/Silverton side of the San Juan Skyway once (with Brianne the first day we met) and had done the Telluride side three times now.  I passed through Ridgway, then headed towards Ouray.  I don’t know if I was still in Super-opus mode, or if I just thought the local law enforcement in Colorado just didn’t care if you sped or what, but I passed a deputy going north towards Ridgway.  I was doing around 85 when I passed him which seemed like I was crawling compared to the previous four days.  I looked back but didn’t see any brake lights or his lightbar.  I kept going towards Ouray, maintaining speeds close to what we had been doing all weekend, but keeping an eye on my mirrors.

In Ouray I decided that I would rather take the Telluride side after all.  Ask me why sometime…  I made my way back up to Ridgway, and then headed towards Telluride.  I passed through the now familiar towns of Rico, Delores, and Cortez, eventually coming to the Four Corners Monument.

Let me tell you, the temperature had definitely been rising since going through Delores.  It was starting to look more like a desert as well.  When I go to the monument the ambient temperature gauge on my dash said 102.  Ugh.  Keep in mind that I’m wearing my full 3-season gear.  Even though I was really hot, I managed to get a few shots at the monument.







Look!  I’m in four states!  What do you mean New Mexico shouldn’t have counted in the “Nine States…” title?  Oh, shut up.  

I got back on the rode and headed to 191 north, which would take me close to Mexican Hat where I would head north towards the Natural Arches National Park on highway 261.  I was going to keep going on 160 down to Kayenta, then head north on 163 through Monument Valley, but decided against it.  I was so hot and miserable by this time that I just wanted to get closer to wherever I was going to camp that night.

While I was heading north on 191, I let me my lead foot get the best of me while I was passing some cars.  I had it up over 100 and was coming back down when I passed a policeman in a blazer.  Whoops!  I pulled over right away.  He asked me how fast I was going and I said I didn’t know, only that I had been passing a string of cars and was slowing down when I saw him.  He said he clocked me at 98 in a 60.  Errr…  He was really nice and wrote me a “reservation ticket”, whatever that is.  He said it wouldn’t go on my record and would only be $50 or so.  He also mentioned that if he had decided to write me a “county ticket” I’d be in handcuffs right now.  Well, thanks for picking option A, officer.    (Turns out later that when I tried to call and pay the ticket, they said he never turned it in, so not to worry about it.  Nice! )

I made it up to Mexican Hat, where I stopped and had a bite to eat at a Minit-Mart.  While I was stopped, I took a good look at my route.  I realized that I was seriously crunched for time after spending four extra days in Colorado.  I figured that if I went through Utah, I would basically be flying through with no time to stop.  I made a saddening decision to skip Utah for now and come back again some day when I could appreciate the national parks.  I got suited back up (sigh) and headed south on 163.  One good thing was that I would make it through Monument Valley after all.

Heading south on 163 through the valley was both rewarding and tiring.  Seeing the massive rock formations was very cool, but the heat wasn’t.  Oh, and the constant crosswinds!  I had never had wind beat at me for so long.  And it wasn’t consistent either.  I was only doing 10-15 over after getting that ticket, but it felt like I was sticking my head out the window at 150 MPH.  Ugh.  The combination of heat and wind sapped my strength in no time.  I later realized that I was taking 40 MPH corners doing 85, and I was half asleep!  Seriously, I rode most of Monument Valley in a stupor.  I made myself stop every 30 minutes or so to take a drink and wake up.  Not good, people.  I was so tired I only got one shot of Monument Valley.  Enjoy…





I finally made it down to Highway 98, which took me to north to Page, AZ.  Again, I did most of the way to Page half asleep.  It’s not like I was going to pull over and take a nap on a rock, though.  I had to keep going.  I stopped in Page for gas, then took 89 south which would lead me to 89 (Alternate).  89 Alt. would take me to 67, and then I would head south to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.  I was hoping to soldier on and camp somewhere on 67 at a campsite.  Unfortunately it was after 5:00 PM and I still had 125 miles or so to go.

I made it about 40 miles outside of Page when I had to stop for construction.  It was going to take long enough that we all turned off our engines.  I had been sitting there for a couple of minutes when a gentleman got out of his truck and came over to me.  “Do you hear that?” he said.  I had my earphones in so I couldn’t hear anything.  I took off my helmet and listened.  To me, it sounded like nearby powerlines or something.  After getting off my bike, I realized it was coming from my bike.  Huh?  It sounded like a high pitched electronic alarm of some kind.  Weird.  It was coming from the center of the bike, but I couldn’t figure it out.  Catalytic converter?  Something electronic?  Dunno.  Right then the line started moving so I got back on and started the bike up.  Hmm, started fine, it’s running fine…  What the hell?

I rode a few miles and then stopped at the first sign of habitation I had seen since Page, a roadside lodge.  There was a K1200RS parked out front, a good omen if I ever saw one.  The BMW guy (I’m so bad with names) and Mike (a guy who worked there) came over and we looked at the bike.  I pulled off all my luggage and eventually the seat.  And there it was…  My battery was so hot it was bulging.  It looked like it was going to explode at any second.  It was putting out a squeal that sounded electronic.  So strange.  We took it out and let it cool down a good fifty feet from anything important.  Scary.  Let’s see, the battery is located where?  Oh yeah, right between my legs.  Yikes.

The lodge:




Mike said that maybe after it cooled down we could pry of the cover and add some distilled water.  I was a little skeptical, but what else was I going to do in the middle of nowhere?  By this time it was close to 6:00 or 7:00 PM and I knew I wasn’t going to make the Grand Canyon tonight.  I got a room for the night and took a much needed nap.  After I woke up, Mike and I tried to pry the cover off.  No go.  It would destroy the battery.  Mike said he could drive me into Page the next day for a battery.  I BS’d for a while, then went to bed for the night.  This sucks.  =(

[opus]

Day Twelve - Tuesday, June 28
40 Miles Outside Of Page, AZ To Page, AZ
~40 Miles


In the morning I called a couple of places looking for a battery.  I called Page Honda, but they didn’t have one.  Next I tried the dealer in Flagstaff.  They didn’t have one either.  I called the Page dealer back and they said they might be able to get one off another bike in a crate if it cross-matched.  I decided that I wanted to have the bike checked out before I continued with the rest of my trip anyway, so I took advantage of my Honda Rider’s Club free towing service.  After getting towed to Page, the dealer took a look at my bike.  Turns out that the regulator/rectifier was putting about 17 volts into the battery.  The bad news is that they would have to overnight a battery and a regulator.

While I was waiting for them to figure this out, I met Eric.  He was on a fifth-gen VFR and was having cooling problems, with leaks in several places.  Supposedly it had been checked out in Las Vegas, but they obviously didn’t do a good job.  Eric was going to be stuck in Page overnight as well.

Here’s a crappy picture I took while he was tightening the bracket on his Givi rack.




In addition to meeting Eric while I was waiting, I also checked my voicemail.  Hmmm.  Nine voicemails.  Somebody obviously wanted to talk to me.  Called my voicemail and heard a message from my wife saying that the Ouray County police department was trying to get a hold of me.  Whaaa??  The next message was from the deputy himself asking me to call him and “You know why.”  He actually said that.  The rest of the voicemails were from my wife, each one getting progressively frantic.  Turns out she had been trying to get in touch with me for the last 36 hours or so since the deputy had called.  Whoops…

The fallout from the Ouray Police Incident is still pending, so I’m not going to go into it right now.  Just let me say that it hasn’t been fun…  If you want some good reading, though, check out the Opus Missing? thread.

Oh, and if you want a good visual, picture this.  While Eric and I were waiting for our bikes to be diagnosed, we (mostly Eric) convinced the dealer/owner to give us a loaner bike so we could go eat lunch.  The dealer agreed and ended up letting us have an 1800 Honda VTX.  Um, yeah.  Eric asked me how much riding experience I’d had.  “Well, I’ve been riding since February, but I did have that bike back in 1993…”  Eric wasn’t too impressed, so he ended up piloting while I got to ride bitch.  Now, here’s the visual:  picture a 150 lb. guy riding an 1800 CC cruiser down the road with a 320 lb. guy on the back.  Nice, eh?  I *really* wish I had gotten a picture.

Eric let me pilot on the way back, stating that he didn’t like the way it rode.  Hmm, maybe because One, it’s a cruiser with crappy brakes, and Two, you’ve got a fatass pillion.  hehe.  I really didn’t mind the bike at all.  I kind of felt like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator II when he was riding that FatBoy and shooting that shotgun with his left hand.  Too funny.

As you might have noticed, I didn’t take hardly any pictures today.  Most of the time was spent talking.  Sorry.  

Eric and I ended up sharing the cost of a motel room and spent the next 24 hours talking about motorcycles by the pool.  It could have been worse…

[opus]

Day Thirteen - Wednesday, June 29
Page, AZ To Ogden, UT
~475 Miles




Woohoo!  Slept in today until 8:00 AM.  It’s a miracle!

Hopefully today I would be back on the road.  I’d been stuck with no bike since Monday afternoon.  Eric and I decided to walk over to the Burger King for some breakfast.  On our way over we saw a Radio Shack that was also a video store.  Weird enough that we had to check it out.  We went in for a bit and they said the owner did it to supplement the tourist season.  Hmm.  Yeah, because during tourist season all the tourists flock to Radio Shack, whereas in the off-season they don’t?  Whatever, man.  heh.




We got back to the motel after checking out a demo houseboat in the parking lot of the local mini-mall.  These houseboats were huge two-story affairs, and we saw one getting towed around town every half hour or so.  Both of us decided we didn’t feel like purchasing one at the moment.  Maybe later after our stock portfolios pan out.  Ahem.




Got back to the dealer around 11:00 or so, and Eric’s bike was almost ready to go.  Mine was still waiting for the FedEx truck to get there around 2:00.  Sigh.  Eric got packed up and hit the road, eventually making his way back home to Chicago.  He later told me he rode from Denver to Chicago non-stop, riding for 18-19 hours.  That’s only 200 more miles or so than 800 miles from Great Falls to Denver, but it sure sounds worse.

I finally got my bike back around 2:30, and hit the road about 3:00.  Right before I left I convinced the dealer to give me his 2002 VFR “I Ride Red” poster off the wall.  I need to get that sucker framed!  While I’m at it, Page Honda is a really nice dealership.  The owner worked with Eric and I personally the whole time and made sure we got what we needed.  I highly recommend them.

While I was waiting for my bike I took a good look at my schedule.  It was now Wednesday afternoon.  I had to be in Seaside, OR by Sunday early evening.  I had planned on making my way down to the North Rim, Las Vegas, L.A. to see my brother, spend a day there, then go up Highway 1 and 101 to Oregon.  At that point I would slab it up I-5, then head over to Seaside.  Including staying a day with my brother, I had about 3.5 days to make 1700 miles or so.  Not good.  I wasn’t looking forward to that at all, plus I think I’d end up slabbing it up California instead of taking the coastal highways.

After a bit of thinking, I decided to just beeline it home.  I had been on the road for almost two weeks straight.  Other than a four day trip to Eureka a month before, this was the longest trip of my life.  After the heat, the bike breaking down, the ticket(s), the wind, and everything else, I was ready to end the trip.  Some of you will groan, but I was 100 miles from the Grand Canyon and I didn’t even stop by.  Another time, I decided.

I headed north out of Page on Highway 89 until I came to the road to the East Entrance of Zion National Park.  Hey, I had run into a Utah national park on accident!  Sweet!  Plus, I had purchased a National Park Pass at Little Bighorn in Montana, and hadn’t used it yet except to get into the Black Canyon National Park outside of Montrose.  I turned west and went into the park.  Let me tell you, Zion is really beautiful.  The red rocks are gorgeous, and the tunnel going through the park was awesome.  I *almost* tried to take a picture of one of the “window” opening while riding through the tunnel, but decided against it.  Common sense won for once this trip.  However, if the tunnel had been straight it would have been another story.  Taking corners in the dark while riding with no hands was a bit too much.



















After Zion I got onto I-15 and rode it all the way to Ogden.  Isn’t super-slab wonderful?  Not.  I could ride for 600 miles on my stock seat with no problems, but get me on the slab and my ass hurts after 150 miles.  

I made it into Ogden around 10:00 or so and got a motel room at the local Motel 6.  I hit a Taco Bell, then crashed in my room.  Good night!

[opus]

Day Fourteen - Thursday, June 30
Ogden, UT To Salt Lake City, UT To Vancouver, WA
~825 Miles



I woke up this morning determined to be home today.  I was on the home stretch and I was going to make it, dammit.  Took my shower, and then loaded up the bike.  While I was attaching the bungee cords to my saddlebags, I noticed that I had cords showing through on my rear tire.  4200 miles on a Pilot Road?

I had put on new front and rear PR’s right before I left for my trip hoping they would last the whole time, and maybe some after.  I guess the rear just didn’t hold up like I had hoped.  (It turns out that my dial gauge was seven lbs. off, so I was running at 35 PSI the whole trip instead of 42.  I’m sure that’s what killed it, along with being overloaded.)

I started making some phone calls.  Everyone in Ogden *and* Salt Lake City wanted $189 for a rear PR.  I had just purchased one for $134 two weeks ago in Portland.  Plus, they all wanted over $50 to mount and balance.  What the?  I finally found a dealer in Salt Lake City that would mount and balance for $20.  Unfortunately I would have to ride 35 miles south, then 35 miles back up to Ogden just to get back to where I started.  Oh well.  They said they could get me in reasonably quick too, which was just as important.

I made it down to the dealer, got my tire changed, and made it back on the road by 11:00.  I had hoped to be in Idaho by now.  It was not to be, however.  Pointed my stealthy black VFR north once again and got back onto I-15.  I-15 eventually turned into I-84, which I would ride all the way back to Portland.

At one point later I was stuck behind two semis on a four-lane road.  The semi in the left lane was trying to get around the other one, but couldn’t quite make it.  He would get about halfway in front of him, then would hit a rise and slow down.  He would allllllllllllmost leave enough room for me to sneak through on the right, but not quite.  I got so frustrated (and bored) that I started entertaining thoughts of going up the middle.  “That would be pretty cool.” then “Are you freaking crazy?” then “I bet I could make it…”  Well, I let the little red devil on my left shoulder win me over, and I went up the middle.  Add another surreal moment to the list.  What’s really cool/scary is that the headwind completely disappeared in the middle of the two.  All of a sudden the wind in my ears goes away, my jacket fills out from lack out wind, and my bike shoots forward with extra acceleration.  I pop out the front of the two, and BAM!, instand headwind.  I was expecting it, but it was still kind of a shock.  I bet those guys were on their CB’s calling me twenty kinds of idiot.  Rightly so.  I think I blew the little white angel off my shoulder when I hit the headwind too.  

There isn’t much to write about this portion of the trip except to say that I got so bored that I worked on standing up on the pegs with no hands off and on, and rode with no hands for probably 300 miles out of the 800.  Let me tell you, you have to lean waaaaaaaay out over the front wheel when you’re doing 85 or 90 MPH with no hands.  Oh, and I almost fell asleep right before Boise.  I was seriously drifting off into la-la land when the three lanes changed into two for a construction zone.  I went from nodding off to panic mode in about .25 seconds.  All of a sudden I was literally fighting for my space in the lane.  That’ll wake you up in a heartbeat, trust me.

That little incident got my through Boise and then close to the Idaho/Oregon border before I started nodding off again.  I was passing a motor home in the left lane when I crossed over into Oregon and saw a really beautiful oasis called REST STOP.  I ended up shooting in front of the motor home doing 80 MPH at a serious lean angle, then slamming on the brakes to do 5 MPH in the parking lot.  Whew!!!  I laid down on the grass for 30 minutes and took a quick nap that I desperately needed.

The rest of the trip down I-84 was uneventful, except for how glad I was when I started entering Portland.  I’m home!  I had a wondrous, exciting trip, but I was really glad to see the lights of Portland and Vancouver.  I pulled into my parking lot around 10:30, walked in and gave my kids a big hug, then crashed for the night.

Here are a couple of post-trip pictures:



[One trip’s worth of dirt and bugs]



[One ground down peg feeler]



[Brianne’s rear tire on her way home to Texas]


[What Brianne calls the "Happy Opus" shot]

I had been through nine states (if you count New Mexico at Four Corners), had a warrant for my arrest in Colorado (tell you more about that later), and scraped both my pegs.    I had traveled 5000 miles, met wonderful people, was one of the first civilians to the top of Pike’s Peak, and had crossed the highest bridge in the world.  I had met a wonderful, beautiful sportbike chick named Brianne on a Honda Blackbird and ridden with her for a thousand miles.  Can you ask for more?  Maybe, but it was enough for me on this trip…

Thanks for reading along (and being patient).

opus

[vagabond]

Love the read!  Great humor, beautiful photos.  The shot with both hondas in the foregorund is truely, a money shot.  Honda should put you guys on the payroll.  Good luck with the dame!

[miles]

ST.N's greatest ride report evar resurfaces!

[vagabond]

Oops!  Just remembered, you are married.  Forget about it.

[JimNtexas]

Terrific report!  Thanks!

[Indefatigable]

Great trip and super photos.  Thanks.