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The Open Road => Ride Reports => Topic started by: Lawn Dart on June 27, 2007, 12:57:59 am



Title: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Lawn Dart on June 27, 2007, 12:57:59 am
The Rules:

1.  Pick exactly ONE picture per post.  No more, no less:  just ONE picture.

2.  Tell a story about the picture.  It could be how you got there, something special about the place, perhaps a distant memory.  Tell the story.

3.  And most important: YOU CANNOT POST ANYTHING UNLESS YOU TELL A STORY!  No commenting on a previous story.  No questioning a story.  No commentary at all UNLESS you Post your OWN picture and story!

EDIT 7/16/07:  OH!  And btw, I didn't mean that the posters here couldn't make a post or comment about someone elses thread.  What I meant was that IF you wanted to comment on someone elses post you FIRST had to Add a new Pic/Story of your own before making a comment (and then, please, keep the comment in your own thread!).  The idea here is that each post should have a sing;e pic/story - with a minimum of chatter.  I'll post an edit to my original rules to reflect the change here.


Let's make this a rolling one-pic story thread.  Keep the chatter to a minimum.  Post a pic, tell a story.  And then wait for someone else to tell a story before telling a new one.

I'll kick it off:

(http://www.lengtheningshadows.com/images/xDscf0146.jpg)

April 2005.

The wife and I were stressed.  Work was tough, house projects were bogging us down.  Simply put, we needed to get out for a weekend and just plain let the stresses of life fall away for a bit.  Solvang - it's a lovely town that my wife had never been to.  We talked about it on Friday afternoon and left for Solvang later that night.  On Saturday morning we let the winds of fate guide us.  

I had no GPS, no maps.  Just a direction:  East, into the Los Padres mountains.  We wandered the roads, turning this way and that and came upon this location.  It was high on the mountains in a small pass of sorts.  The wind was soft and the flowers were in bloom all over the roads.  Yellows and oranges and purples and reds just blossoming all over.  Fragrant scents floated by and a bird of prey hovered on the drafts.  We ate a bit of lunch there and didn't see another soul for 30 minutes.  

Sometimes we are granted just a small slice of serenity in an otherwise insane world.  For me, it's the ride.  Sometimes the ride takes us to places we never knew existed.  Just a matter of letting the places find you.  


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: xdbx on June 27, 2007, 01:27:55 am
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v347/IxdbxI/Aprilia/IMG_2448.jpg)

Sometimes, when we read such epic tales, and dream such high dreams, we forget what is in our own back yards.  I had spend the entire winter dreaming about a trip out west.... the amazing vistas, the gorgeous weather, the mountain air, and crisp alpine snow.  I had even sold my bike for a more distance oriented one, when it really got to me.  Thats not what riding is about!  I always tell myself why I hate michigan so much, yet I havent even seen the real parts of my own back yard.

That was that, and I couldn't let that continue, so I packed my sleeping back in 1 saddlebag, my toothbrush and a change of clothes in the other (yes I forgot the toothpaste), and I headed west.  No highways, no nothing, but me, the bike, and the best michigan has to offer. As soon as I hit it, I knew it.  I saw the forests, and it all smelled like that thick smell you get when you have an authentic camp fire.  Yes, yes guys, this was what ti was about.  No walls, no AC, not even a real windshield, open your eyes, and see what you've got around you.  RIGHT around you.  Thats what I did, and even though my ride to the "west coast" was only 100 miles, it was just as satisfying as my ride to the real west coast several months later.  Heed my advice, the most precious things are infact just beyond the horizon, and only require time to discover....


Title: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: MisterSmooth on June 27, 2007, 02:37:44 am
May, 2006.  In a blaze of hubris, I chose to ride my R1 rather than the BMW from Seattle to the WCRM in Fortuna.  The first day on the road, it was 80 degrees and I looked like a genius but for the next four days I was either dodging rain or the gigantic potholes on the Lost Coast road, missing those heated BMW grips and feeling a little bit of a knob.

Sunday, it's time to start the ride home.  After some internal twitching, I throw caution to the wind and decide to ride 36 from Fortuna to Redding.  Damn the rain, and the torpedoes, and the longing for that cozy quiet spot behind the BMW's fairing.  You only live once.

And amazingly enough, it worked out.  Rain is visible in the mountains on either side of 36 but the road is wonderfully dry and about 20 miles from Fortuna, who should I ride up to but Endo and his son Devin.  We chat and then we go riding.  Maybe 50 miles from Fortuna we rip past a late model blue pickup truck, and maybe a quarter mile later pull over to drink some water and socialize.  But damn if that pickup truck doesn't pull up behind us.

Shit.  I can hear it already.  "You boys ride too fast and shouldn't be passing on a double yellow like that,"  or some such.

But no.  The guy in the photo below gets out of his truck and walks up to us.


(http://i152.photobucket.com/albums/s177/raincitysmoothie/dopefarmer.jpg)


Apparently he just wants to talk.  We talk about our bikes and the almost complete lack of speed enforcement on 36.  We talk a little bit about where we're from.  He's a local, lived in the Eureka area all his life.  I remark that it must be hard to make a living in that area of Northern California.  "So what do you do?"  I ask.

"Well,"  he says, with the same calm, mildly bored tone of voice that one might use to describe one's work in the life insurance business, "I'm a marijuana farmer."

Devin, Endo, and I try to conceal our surprise (in hindsight, probably not all that well).

"Yeah,"  he says, "The federals get some of the crop every year, but I spread it around and they never get all of it."

We talked a little more, bid him goodbye and sped away chuckling in our helmets.  And the ride from there to Interstate 5 was an epic blast, swinging through curve after curve after curve, Devin getting air on the roller coaster part of 36, dry almost the entire way but with rain threatening.  The R1 was the bike of choice after all.

 


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Orson on June 27, 2007, 02:38:49 am
Photo taken at the Gooseneck, 2002 Isle of Man TT

(http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j231/Orsono/Copy2ofEuro013.jpg)

2002 was the year I purchased my Moto Guzzi in Italy. One of things on my list of things to do before I die, was to attend an Isle of Man TT race. I checked the IOM TT message board and found a guy who had a last minute cancellation. I didn't need any convincing and jumped at the opportunity. I rode the Guzzi from Italy, across the Alps, crossed the English Channel and made my way to the IOM ferry in Northern England. I knew I wasn't in Kansas anymore when I boarded the ferry with about 400 motorcycles and maybe a handful of cars  :lol: Imagine Daytona speed week but replace all the Harleys with sport bikes.

To me, this photograph embodies the Isle of Man experience. Good racing with race fans right on top of the action. The Gooseneck is the last sharp bend before the road climbs up to the fearsome mountain section. A few times, a racer would grab a handful of throttle, sending the bike into a fishtail. The fans seated on the grass embankment would be falling backwards in an effort to get out of the way. That's close racing  :D

One race fan seated at the Gooseneck had his own pit board. He would listen to the radio broadcast of the race, then flash the racers their split times. Now, that's fan participation  :D

A real treat was to watch the Travelling Marshalls circulate the track. The Travelling Marshalls are all former TT racers with a minimum of 1500 racing miles under their belts. They circulate the track with much gusto  :D

Even better was getting to ride the circuit yourself between practice sessions. To see all the places you've read about is almost magical. Bray Hill, Kirk Michael, Ballaugh Bridge, Creg-ny-ba. One morning, I set out at 5:00 A.M. before the masses had awoken from their drunken reverie of the night before. With a full tank of gas, I set out to lap the TT circuit free of traffic. Just before Kirk Michael, I saw a lone headlight coming up behind me. Great, I thought to myself, the nutters have awoken. Much to my surprise, when he overtook me, I saw that it was an IOM constable on a police Pan-European (Honda ST-1100) out for a quick lap of his own.

To put the races into layman's terms, I managed to do a lap in about 45 minutes. Race winner David Jefferies lapped the circuit in about 17 minutes. That's the difference between gods and mere mortals.  :)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: cyjo on June 27, 2007, 09:58:41 am
End of the Road

Last year I journeyed to the national meet by myself. This was my first trip overnight alone and I was a bit concerned and excited all at once. Aside from a ticket and having to attend a funeral, I had a good time. While bumming around the backwoods of WV a day before the meet, I was exploring the area around New River Gorge. My gps had sent me down this road trying to get to the next place on my list. The road was narrow and busted up pretty bad. After riding 3 or 4 miles down the road it simply ended. No warning signs or nothing. My gps told me that it should go on but just a wall of trees and bushes. After turning around I snapped this picture from the saddle. At that moment I was in absolute heaven, doing what I love to do: explore, take the road less traveled, and seeing what most others miss. A smile from ear to ear and I headed back to a road that got me going the right way, I realized that it hadn't been a wrong turn at all.

(http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1429/639345766_096c22b694_b.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: bubba zanetti on June 27, 2007, 11:03:54 am
(http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d1/JimFisher1956/Sheep-1.jpg)

Having just completed a ride through SW British Columbia, down through Idaho and up through Glacier National Park, I had had my fair share of twisties, wonderful hot weather and little traffic thanks to it being mid June. The trip took us through Waterton and into Pincher Creek Alberta. The mountains give way, in that wonderful way, and the great wide open on the edge of the Canadian Prairie beckons on one side, while the mighty Rockies sit in silence and taunt one to go west. Splitting the difference and taking Highway 22 North is a rather dull affair, but before you know it you arrive in the small town of Longview Alberta and there is the turn to 541 heading west. The road rolls with the hilly terrain and quickly turns north and becomes Highway 40. This is Kananaskis Country as it is known in Alberta and you ride a beautiful ribbon of pristine asphalt along the very edge of the Rockies. No tight twisties here but a cornucopia of sweet sweepers takes you north almost to Banff. Along the way the views are breathtaking, the air clear and the colours vibrant. The almost serene nature of the road allows plenty of time to rubber neck and take in the non-stop vistas. Keep an eye out though, as mountain sheep litter the road. They do not run across the road in a frightening or confused fashion like the huge forest rats of British Columbia. No, they plant themselves all over the road and seem oblivious to your presence often bowing their heads in what might be interpreted as a sign of respect. Dumb is what they are as can be plainly seen if you peer into their rather languid and empty eyes.

I had a good chat with the sheep pictured above who was kind enough to point out his brothers and sisters who were waiting in the next corner.


Twas a great day on a most memorable trip. The Triumph and I loved that road. It is one of the most relaxing stretches of riding I have ever had.

 :inlove:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: chornbe on June 27, 2007, 11:34:21 am

(http://chornbe.com/motorcycles/rides/gcpa2006/IMG_2974.JPG)

I picked up my new FJR on a Thursday in August of 2006, and had planned a "break in" ride for that weekend. My daughter ('Becca, 10) and I were going to take the FJR for a ride in the mountains around the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania. This trip was to be something of a "first" for us; our first long bike trip together, her first overnight trip on a bike, her first trip in the mountains.

We rode a conventional mix of highway and country roads to the area. I had lived in Galeton, PA for a while, and knew most of the major roads in the area. Going back there was never really something I felt the need to do, but looking back, arriving in town and riding around looking at what was the same and what had changed had, of course, made me somewhat nostalgic.

About an hour out of Wellsboro, we hit rain. Torrential. Large drops of cold, wet messengers of discomfort. Not only was this 'Becca's first long trip on a bike, but it was her first experience riding in the rain. The air was warm, the rain was cool and we soldiered on. We had rain gear with us but, trooper that she is, 'Becca didn't want to stop and put it on.

We found a small cabin rental place on Rt. 6, just midway between Galeton and Gaines, and plunked down our $28 for the night. I had 'Becca hop off the bike and walk up to the cabin, then slogged my way up the muddy, rutted, slippery drive into the cabin grounds on the FJR. Make a note here, the FJR may do well enough on packed gravel roads when dry, but it does not do so well on slippery, muddy paths.

We unpacked into the cabin, and set about hanging our riding gear and clothes to dry, changed and sat and watched tv and warmed up for a bit. The rain slowed to a light but steady drizzle and we both agreed the bagged snacks wouldn't be enough; it was time to find some dinner. We got in to our rain gear and headed back out. We considered going all the way back in to Wellsboro to find a restaurant, but instead decided to eat at the Log Cabin Inn on Rt. 6. We each had Fettucini Alfredo with grilled chicken, and I added a bowl of soup.

After dinner we rode up to the Grand Canyon's East rim. The rain had stopped, but the mist and chill hung in the air. Fog drifted around us and the sky had just begun to darken. The evening felt like a surreal mix of a Stephen King novel and a quiet, secluded mountain paradise. I didn't want to be riding back down the mountain in the dark with all the fog and the animals that were sure to be present, so we drove back to the cabin as the last vestiges of the evening's dusk were just holding on.

While parking the bike where I was able to ensure the kickstand wouldn't sink in the mud, I heard a bird chattering at me incessantly. Apparently it did not like my intruding on its peace. I shut the bike off, and stopped to look at the bird a moment while 'Becca walked back up the path to the cabin. I decided the bird, the night's falling light and the trimmed tree upon which it sat would make a nice picture. I got the camera out and took various pictures, experimenting with different light and exposure settings.

The following morning, we got up early and headed in to Wellsboro to breakfast at the world famous Wellsboro Diner (http://www.wellsborodiner.com/). While enjoying our breakfast, we read up on the colorful history of the original dining car that makes up the core of the Wellsboro Diner.

After breakfast, we headed back out of town to the West and rode up to both rims of the Grand Canyon to snap a few pictures (http://chornbe.com/motorcycles/rides/gcpa2006/). After enjoying the morning chill in the air, the nice scenery and a walk through the forest along the East Rim, we mounted back onto the bike to begin our trip home. We continued West in to Galeton, then traveled down PA 144 and PA 120, enjoying a spirited ride on twisty mountain roads with almost no traffic to contend with at all until reaching Lock Haven for a break and to grab some lunch.

From there we rode home, talking about the trip and future trips over the Chatterbox radio, promising to do more of these weekend getaways. A great weekend spent on a wonderful machine, providing excellent memories of a nice father & daughter getaway weekend. What could be better?


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Ant on June 27, 2007, 02:42:47 pm
(http://antwilliams.smugmug.com/photos/160743249-M.jpg)

This is a Youth Hostel in a village called Beer (chosen as a destination solely for it's name!) on the South coast of England. This was taken on the 3rd day of owning my Bandit, my first bike. On the journey down from Stalybridge near Manchester I'd driven down the Fosse Way and come to the conclusion that the Romans either knew that motorbikes would be invented one day or they squidded it up on their chariots over those hills through central England. I saw Stonehenge for the first time, saw the white horses on the side of the chalk hills and the regimental badges near Fovant. The scenic town of Bath.

All of this opened my eyes to where this bike could take me, seeing all of these "firsts" for me was only the first step.
Been a little "green behind the ears" so to speak meant that this hostel represented a glowing beacon on the top of a hill that was completely inaccessible. I could see it for miles but for the life of me couldn't find the road up to it. When I found it it was a gravel track with 180 degree switchbacks with no room for manouvering. I nearly dropped my shiny new bike so many times but I was determined not to fail on only my first week of riding!

The satisfaction upon reaching the top was as good as the view of the English Channel and cliffs set out around.

Brilliant  :bigok:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: black hills on June 29, 2007, 01:23:39 pm

(http://i160.photobucket.com/albums/t163/blackhills_2007/beartooth.jpg)

My friend Jeff (roommate from 20 years ago). came out for a long weekend. Stopped by the national in Custer on wed. night. I had to work thurs., but he mowed the yard for me, so it was worth it. Friday we rode out to Cody WY. My girlfriend Shawna was working there for a few weeks. Took in the rodeo (Shawna won the breakaway roping!), and spent the night at the rodeo grounds. The next day with Shawna on the back of the CBR, and her thanks to Jeff for the FJR's ample storage, we rode through the east side of yellowstone. We continued over the beartooth pass, where she snapped this photo. Then into Redlodge for the night, and too many beers. Sun. morning it was back across the pass to drop her off in Cody and home to rapid. Not a big trip, but a great weekend with the woman I love and my best friend. :)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Liquidsilver on July 02, 2007, 04:06:28 pm
 
Winter dragged on forever in the midwest that year... and I was really hurting for some mileage on the FJR.   Some friends talked me into taking a trip to Big Bend National Park, 1100 miles from home and wifey wanted to go.    :crazy:
 
The roads back home were snowy and salty, so we trucked the bike to Terlingua, TX.  
 
Except for a few, the roads were much straighter than I'd hoped.   I was a little let down about that... AND at only having only 2 days on the bike to balance the 2 FULL days in the truck.
 
But then we bumped into a buddy from riding FJRs in Arkansas.   :cool:  Petey may be old enough to be my Dad, but he's one of the best sport-touring riders I know.  :cool:
 
Main Street Fort Davis
(http://i17.tinypic.com/4m2i7ev.jpg)
 
The ensuing riding and bench racing made the whole trip worth it!  
 


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: UFO on July 02, 2007, 04:51:30 pm
Spring 2004

I work in the type of job that rollercoasters between moments of sheer boredom and high stress.  Most of the stress is unnecessary but caused by self important coworkers.  I have a relationship with my current boss where he can tell when the stress is about to push me over the top.  I had reached the precipice.

Thursday evening I shot off an email to my boss "Won't be in tomorrow...going riding."  His only reply was "OK."

I wasn't sure where I was going, only that I was going.  The day dawned wet and dreary.  I geared up and set out west...towards the isolated Pacific shore along the Olympic Pennisula (WA state).  It rained the entire way, but I didn't care...I wasn't sitting in a #%@(ing cubicle staring at a computer screen and listening to people on the phone droning on endlessly about unimportant aspects of the project in hopes of inflating their own self interest.

After spending the morning dodging logging trucks, the clouds parted right at the coast line.  I pulled into a remote beach access road and spend an hour basking in the sun, snacking on some food, and letting my gear take a breather from the rain.  There were only a few other souls out on the beach, but they kept to themselves.

Having enjoyed my respite, I hopped back on the FJR and plunged back into the rain as I moved back inland to complete my loop of the peninsula.

It's amazing what a day away from everything (work, house, bills, computers, cellphones, people!) can do for your peace of mind.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: UFO on July 02, 2007, 05:13:09 pm
September 12, 2001

I remember this day vividly.  It was the day after.  The nation was hurting, my wife was hurting, I was hurting.  You couldn't get away from it even if you tried.  Everyone was talking about it, every media format was covering it 24/7 (radio, print, TV, internet).  Time to shut it off, if ever so briefly.

Amy's Katana needed a little love, so I left the Hayabusa at home and went exploring.  I found this short road winding through the Capitol Forest.  A ribbon of perfect asphalt cutting through a hall of brilliant green. (I know, the picture is B&w :D )  It's one of those classic moments that freezes time...and makes for a perfect picture.

At least for a brief moment I was able to escape the tragedy of that day.

It's true...motorcycles are good for the soul.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Orson on July 03, 2007, 06:05:35 pm
(http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j231/Orsono/Picture084.jpg)

The edge of the continent.

Cabo Sagres, Portugal is the southwestern-most point in Europe. Traveling by motorcycle is a much more personal means of getting somewhere than most other means of transportation. You are travelling not so much to get somewhere, as you are to enjoy the travel and experiencing the world passing beneath your two wheels.

So, when your travels come to a jarring halt, caused by the fact that you've run out of road and can no longer continue onwards, it can make one become introspective. Looking back on where you've been, how far you've come, and where to go from here. Both in the physical world as well as in your consciousness.

Nothing left to do but turn around and keep on going  :)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Scoop on July 03, 2007, 08:22:39 pm
(http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g202/leafmania/DSC00509copy.jpg)

In Greece, in a little port town called Nafplios, where the beer is cold and the sandwiches are best by the ocean.  A little town full of scooters and an odd assortment of bikes.  I don't know if this one ran or not, but it looked as if it was placed there just for me to take a pic.  My wife and I were on the trip of a lifetime, for our 25th.  Sure, I have pictures of sunsets and the two of us looking romantically at wonderful sights.  But this wee bike makes me remember the peace I found there, the easy way of life.  No worries, who cares about bling, or gear or GPS.  Ride what you have and enjoy the day.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Zen Rider on July 03, 2007, 11:14:52 pm
Temple of Justice, Olympia, WA

(http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j232/Tw12eleve/Assortedpicsfromthumbdrive072.jpg)

I took this pic while out for a ride searching for photo opps of the PNW fall colors.  

Other than riding motorcycles, two of my other passions are photography and Constitutional law.  

For several years, I used to spend my lunch hours in the law library of the Temple doing research on court rulings.  The temple is rich with historical facts, extremely quiet, and also has these great little private study areas complete with windows overlooking the South Sound inlet.    :inlove:

Initially, I thought this picture spoiled with the intrusion of the signage; but upon reflection, I like the symbolism - legislation (small, yet in the forefront) vs. the judiciary.  :lol:  


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: JimWilliamson on July 04, 2007, 03:01:10 pm
Sunday May 7, 2006

Rolling through a small town on the southeast coast of Taiwan I stopped at a roadside store for a quick snack... (Google Maps (http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=22.190700253,+120.8789713910&ie=UTF8&ll=22.190703,120.878974&spn=0.006557,0.009613&z=17&iwloc=addr&om=1))

(http://www.jimwilliamson.net/motorcycle/2006-04-27-taiwan-thailand/05-07/img_1596.jpg)

I was getting fairly hungry but was mainly only looking for some bottled water and a quick, easy to purchase w/o knowing the language, wrapped snack. This lady seemed to sense my hunger and put on her "sales cap". She went over to a freezer and pulled out a bag of frozen dumplings. You can see them in the blue bowl. I nodded affirmative and she went digging for the "other" bag. One was green (vegetarian?) and the other brown (beef?). I went for the green label and she took it back to cook it up.

She returned with the bowl of food and added to it some soup she had on the stove - without asking and probably with no charge. While she was cooking it up her son sat and talked with me. He spoke English just a bit. She spoke no English. I speak no Chinese. Mainly we laughed a lot and enjoyed each others company. She looked through the Lonlely Planet guide book and I noted that as she was flipping pages the book was upside down. She turned it right side up when she came to some pictures. Tables be turned, I understand her language about as much and would probably do the same.

The kicker is - people are wired the same no matter where - I pulled out the camera and motioned to taking a picture with her in it - if it would be OK. She immediately became bashful and her hands flew up to make sure her hair was just right.

Two nice people in a small town. I was far from home, arrived hungry, and was provided a nice meal. Well appreciated hospitality. I shall remember her and her son for a long time.

Felipe's yellow Yamaha Majesty scooter, that I was riding, in the background.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: bobmielke on July 04, 2007, 09:04:27 pm
Have you ever been attracted to a place just because of its name? In these parts Klickitat holds a certain mistique that finally got my curiousity piqued. We rode Hwy 14 from Portland along the Columbia River Gorge. Once at Lyle we headed North on Hwy 142 along the Klickitat River to downtown metropolitan Klickitat. We found two things interesting about Klickitat itself, the river road that got us there & the cool sign at the outskirts of town. Still, it was a 265 mile big adventure on a beautiful 80 degree sunny day so all was not lost.
(http://i187.photobucket.com/albums/x299/bobmielke/Fun%20Places/Klickitat_Bob_2.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Thundergod on July 05, 2007, 10:20:02 am
my favorite road in all of Colorado.  HWY 92
During a wonderful 3 day 800mile tour of the mountain ranges of Colorado, I convinced the riding group that we MUST without a doubt travel this road.
It was a very hot day in the valley, close to 100 degrees, but up at the top of this mountain it was a beautiful 65. This road twists and twists its way on top of the
Black Canyon rim revealing panaramas with almost every curve.

It is probably the most dangerous road for motorcycling, you pay attention to the views so much you lose track of the double radius sweepers.
This road will slow down even the fastest riders...the views are spectacular, the tight curves go on for hundreds of miles.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Lawn Dart on July 10, 2007, 02:58:18 pm



(http://www.lengtheningshadows.com/sitebuilder/images/x0230-363x480.jpg)

April 2002.  

I'd been dating this gal, Trina, since Sept. 2001.  We decided to do a vacation - four days on the road, we'd travel up the coast, destination unknown.  Quite frankly I was pretty much petrified.  I was much the planner back then.  Everything had to have it's place, everything had to be planned.  I hated the unknown.

And, to be honest, I'd never done any kind of extended vacation like this.  Load the bike up and roll.  Yeah, I was pretty much petrified.  

We packed our stuff up and I picked her up at her place.  I think.  I don't really remember.  She may have come by my place.  Doesn't really matter.  We rolled out through Santa Monica, up the freeways and over to highway 101.  The goal was to take the 101 all the way up to Monterey.  From there, who knows?   :shrug:  

About 40 miles from home we fell over.  We had made a quick stop and she got on the bike a little too quickly.  Weight off center and bang, we were down.  No damage thankfully but it was shook me a bit.  Damnit!  Who was this woman screwing up my life???  

We made Cambria that first night.  200 miles I think - hugely long day of riding back then.  The only hotel with room was stupidly expensive ($200 with AAA!) but we were both too tired to realy go on.  So she makes me crash and now my card is going to take a hit.  Screw it.  This was an adventure and it was going to be good.  

We walked outside to forage for a bit of food and caught a sunset.  It was the sunset that changed the whole trip.  An increadible sunset.  No matter how tough this trip might be there was a sign waiting for me.  Sit back, relax, and just enjoy the ride.  One sunset defined the trip.  

And what a great sunset it was!





Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Orson on July 10, 2007, 03:22:52 pm
March 2005, I took a trip across the Arabian sea to sunny Goa on the west coast of India and rented a Royal Enfield Bullet. Dealing with a new set of traffic rules was just part of it. The Enfield sports right foot shifting and left foot braking. On top of that, the shifting pattern is one up, three down. Just like the latest GP bikes then  :D  Now, imagine trying to learn this new shifting and braking system while in a foreign land. I'm not the most prolific writer when describing something, but it was like trying to ride while wearing full scuba gear. It felt that awkward. Many times I would stab at the rear brake only to discover, to my horror, that I had just shifted up two gears rather than slow myself down. Other times, I would be pawing at the shiftlever, trying to find neutral, only to look down and see my foot uselessly trying to toe up the brake lever. A sense of pride & accomplishment overcame me whenever I reached 3rd gear. Selecting 4th gear teleported you into an unchartered dimension...where angels feared to tread.

Riding in India has its own special rules. Where in the states and Europe, ultra powerful sportbikes dice and slice through traffic, here, the roles are reversed. Trucks and buses rule the asphalt with a heavy hand, often times occupying the center of the road leaving cars, bikes and rikshaws to scurry for the shoulders for whatever morsel of road remains. The big rigs aren't shy about taking what they assume to be rightfully theirs. As such, you ride extremely defensively. As soon as you see a lumbering juggernaut bearing down on you, you immediately assume the submissive "paws in the air" posture by diving for the 6 inches of asphalt left for you on the shoulder. As the behemoth roars by you whisper a silent prayer of thanks that you hadn't been impaled on their front bumper...then you continue on your journey.

I was waiting for the ferry to cross the Tiracol river, as the ferry approached the landing. The captain made a stab at the landing but, the river current dragged the boat on by, nescessitating a second attempt  :lol:  I don't know why I was laughing. I was about to put my life in his hands  :crazy: We boarded and prepared for the journey but, the boat crew walked off to the nearby snack kiosk for a break. So much for a schedule. When they came back on board, I noticed that one crewman took his position down below to resume bailing   :confused:  Always comforting to know they have someone assigned to bailing duties. At least they didn't ask the passengers to help bail  :D Thankfully, it was but a five minute journey to the other side.

(http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j231/Orsono/post-29-14337-Goa05_010.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: xsrider on July 10, 2007, 07:04:17 pm
(http://xsrider.com/xsrider/uglyroads/im11.jpg)

It was mid October 2004.  I left home at about 8:40am.  

I was going to ride to see my son at his boarding school for the performing arts near Palm Springs, CA.  He had a ballet performance on the night of the 16th and I had promissed my son I’d come down and watch him dance.  It was mid October, so I didn’t bother to check the weather before I left from San Francisco to ride down to his school – heck, it never rains in Palm Springs in October, so why check!!  For reasons unknown to me, I chose to ride down to southern California on all the ugliest roads I could find.  There was very little freeway riding, instead I looked for roads that parallel the freeways and took the back roads through Bakersfield and the desert near Mojave before getting to his school.  It seemed like every road I took was flat, straight, and devoid of any beauty.  The ride down was uneventful, and I arrived at his school at about 6:00pm.  I saw my son dance and we talked for a while before I left for home at about 11pm.  

After leaving my son’s school, I got on Highway 10 and was planning to take the fastest route home.  Soon after I got on Highway 10 near Palm Springs it started to rain.  From Palm Springs all the way through to Pasadena and on to the bottom of the Grapevine it alternated between heavy rain and just heavy spray coming off the freeway from the cars  ahead of me.  As I started up Grapevine Hill (Highway 5) coming out of Los Angeles, it started raining so hard I could hardly see the road.  My rain gear also started to leak and I was slowly getting wet and cold.  

After I got over Grapevine Hill, the heaviest rain had stopped.  But for the rest of the ride going north up Highway 5, there were many periods of rain.  A couple of times I stopped to rest or get a cup of coffee.  I also stopped to take a nap while sitting on my bike at a rest stop somewhere on Highway 5.  If I leaned back while sitting in the saddle, I could rest my helmet on the top case and be fairly comfortable. The wet clothes under my leaking rain gear, however, made me feel cold all the way to the bone.  

I finally got home at about 8:20am. I got off my bike, walked around to the back of the house, and looked in the kitchen window. My wife was there, reading the Sunday paper. She opened the back door and said, “I’ll go open the garage door and you can come in that way. You’re not coming in through the kitchen looking like that.”  In the garage, my wife helped me pull of my rain gear. It was a good thing, I was having trouble because of being tired and having a lot of wet clothes on underneath. I had ridden 1031 miles and been gone from home for just under 24 hours.  


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Púca on July 10, 2007, 09:25:56 pm
(http://www.people.hbs.edu/vfahy/trip_site/pics/Tetons2.jpg)

Teton National Park was the highlight of a cross-country 6,500 mile trip for me.  The trip had been in the back of my mind for 11 years, and one day I took the plunge.  I'm a firm believer that you'll always regret the things you didn't do more than the things you did.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: 919Maniac on July 11, 2007, 12:53:32 am
This is an awesome thread.  I don't have an amazing picture like you guys, I do have this one though...

Last summer I needed to get from Philly to Dallas to visit my sister.  I convinced my then fiance that riding a motorcycle there would be a good thing to do - much cheaper than flying!  I took the BRP south to TN before heading west to Dallas.  The BRP can be fickle, sometimes you can't see your hand in front of your face, and other times it looks like this:





Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: 1KPerDay on July 11, 2007, 05:09:54 pm
(http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a206/1KPerDay/Fandango%20in%20Durango%20June%202007/838aa851.jpg)

Picture not particularly interesting but whadayagonnado?

June 24, 2007, near Ouray, CO. Lowsided in some invisible gravel. I had ridden Red Mountain Pass 5 times over the past 3 days and had seen gravel higher up on the pass, but didn't see anything where I crashed. I was with my dad so I was going quite slow--probably 30 or 35 max. I went down and had no clue why. My dad made it through fine; the rest of the GPz listers made it through fine. I guess I hit the one spot where there was some very fine, road-colored, dusty gravel. I walked back up there and still couldn't see anything until I was standing on it. A very small amount, not what you'd expect when you think of 'gravel in a corner.' 20 years of riding and my first crash. Sigh.... :rolleyes:

Picked up my bike using the girly method, picked up what I thought was a D-cell battery in the road -- and what I momentarily thought I had hit and what had caused me to crash -- but it was my Throttlemeister which had snapped off. Front brake lever lever was bent down onto the fairing. Tried to bend it up enough for clearance and it snapped off in my hand. Upper fairing rashed, lower rashed, givi rashed, front tursignal broken but bulb okay/functional, motolight snapped off and dangling from the wire. Cut it off, took a Lortab my dad had, tried to start the bike, cranked but no go. Remembered the ZZR forum mentioning a main fuse that sometimes can blow if the key's on but the kill switch is off. Took top inner fairing off and then the side panel, checked every fuse I could see, none were blown. Put it back together, cranked and cranked, no start. Finally said a prayer and told God my wife needed me at home, I had a long way to go and I sure could use some help.

Cranked it and it started up. :bigok:

Sat on the bike for a couple of minutes; shoulder was very painful in every position except with my hands on the bars. Luckily the throttle worked properly despite the bar being bent and the end snapped off. Decided to try it. Rode for a while, grabbed at air where the front brake lever was 3 or 4 times, but got used to downshifting well before a stop and using only rear brake. Luckily we were almost down to Ouray already and it was pretty flat/straight riding for the rest of the day.

Got to Ridgeway, CO; Dad needed to stop so I bought some ibuprofen and tried not to scream while I removed my stich Darien and put on my armored mesh. 2 cops were standing there watching me so I was afraid if I acted too much like an invalid they'd call an ambulance. Got back on and headed north. Fueled in Fruita, CO, soaked my jacket and took another Lortab. Felt reasonably good as long as I was on the bike. Butt didn't even hurt, LOL.

Fueled in Price, UT and had a late lunch at Grogg's; great burgers. Made it home about 5 p.m. 360 miles in 100+ degree temps after crashing.

Oh. 50-cent piece sized rash and large bruise on right knee (jeans), very small amount of fabric rash on both forearms, minor abrasions on Teknic Violator gloves, haven't really looked at my Oxtar Matrix boots but no injuries to ankles or feet, scrapes all over and small hole in shoulder of Darien, some light rash on helmet. I think the Givi saved my leg. No damage to rear of bike or pipe.


Shoulder not broken... hurts like hell though.  :crazy:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Global Rider on July 13, 2007, 09:01:24 am
Excellent post BMW-K!

Ever since coming to Europe to ride the Alps in 1995, I've always tried my best to ride the out-of-the-way roads, those thin twisty, usually grey lines on highly detailed maps.

Corsica, June 2006.

Taking the backroads (D82) from where my hotel was located in St. Florent, I bumped into the D5 and continued along its length from San Michele to the N193. The following pics were taken on the D5 near Bigorno and overlook the town of Lento.

MAP
http://www.viamichelin.com/viamichelin/gbr/dyn/controller/mapPerformPage?strCountry=1424&strAddress=&strMerged=St.+Florent&x=0&y=0#locid=31NDJmNTMxMGNOREl1TlRJNU5qVT1jT1M0ek1EQTJNUT09

Talk about narrow and what a treat to drive. It was free of traffic and offered views that were so spectacular, a digi-pic could never do it justice.

Those out-of-the-way backroads...
(http://edelweiss.smugmug.com/photos/151428495-M.jpg)

...offer spectacular views like this...
(http://edelweiss.smugmug.com/photos/151428516-M.jpg)

So when travelling Corsica (or anywhere for that matter), get off the beaten track, explore and experience what the region really has to offer. In the case of Corsica (or anywhere in France), stay off the "N" roads and take the "D" roads. Blowing through only gets you the T-shirt.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: servicerifle on July 13, 2007, 09:26:15 am
(http://farm1.static.flickr.com/172/429640226_99c8be022a_o.jpg)

These guys are my friends.  From left to right, John, me, Rod, and Matt.  I love riding with them.  Unfortunately, our schedules don't coincide much anymore and we can't ride together for now, but we will again I know.

This picture was taken when we were doing route checks for ESTN.  This is at the Shady Valley FD.  We had ridden in decent weather for part of the day, and then it rained at Shady Valley and the road was really slick.  We eventually got down to Hwy 80 and found some dry pavement and had a blast chasing each other through the twisties.  

Perfect day.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: black hills on July 13, 2007, 09:41:54 am
(http://i160.photobucket.com/albums/t163/blackhills_2007/bsa1100.jpg)

This is my Dad, he has been riding since 1950. When I was a child he rode a Honda CL100 to work, and during the summer would take us kids for a ride after supper. With me on the back and my little brother Brad on the tank away we would go. While in reality it was just the trails around the lake, to us it was a big adventure that we looked forward to on a daily basis. I can’t help but think all those rides at a young age had to instill some sort of skill into an otherwise clumsy kid? This disease known as motorcycling began to take hold. It was a hold I would never be able to escape. Like an alcoholic craving a drink motorcycles filled my every thought, I had to have one for myself. So it began, the methodical wearing down of a parent that only a determined kid can execute.
  After a year or so I began to see signs of success. Eventually Dad finally told me “when you can hold the 100 up by yourself, I’ll teach you to ride it” Yes, finally!!!! Now if only I would hurry up and grow. I drank milk, ate my vegetables, exercised, and every couple days gave holding up the bike a try, finally on a spring day in 1976 I did it!! When Dad came home from work I showed him I could do it, reminded him of his promise and told him I was ready to learn. I was 10 years old.
  The lessons went as they do for most people I imagine. Killing the engine again and again, missed shifts, wobbling around the yard like a drunken sailor, the usual stuff. Then finally one night it all came together, I could ride!! Oh, the freedom and pride that came with each and every lap around the backyard. I was getting better and better every time I rode. No doubt I would be on the motocross circuit in no time and eventually move on to fame as a motoGP racer. Yes, this was it, riding motorcycles was what I was born to do!
  Then one evening after being told not to ride in the front of the house, I ripped around the front and around the garage. There much to my surprise I found the sprinkler running and faced a new challenge. Wet grass! It didn’t take more than a second I suppose, but I was unconscious so I can’t say for sure? Next thing I knew I was on the couch in the living room and my Dad was telling me I had to get back on the bike. “If you don’t get back on it now you never will”. Years later he will regret those words on more than one occasion. So, through tear filled eyes I remounted my pride and joy for a slow lap around the yard. My dreams were crushed, I wasn’t the great rider I thought I was, I was…….normal….average…just like everyone else that learned to ride a motorcycle.
   After a few days of sulking I started to ride again, but now I had something to work on. I constantly tried to improve my skills. I rode over or through everything and anything I could find. Wet grass, mud, water, snow, ice, anything. I would become a great rider no matter what it took. I rode it in the spring, the summer, the fall, and the winter. Nothing would stop me. I even rode it on the lake once it froze over. But as those who ride know, you never completely “learn” to ride. It is a lifelong experience with ups and downs along the way. The crash in the wet grass may have been my first, but it wouldn’t be my last. Now, 30 years later I’m still practicing, still learning, and still falling down. Sure the dreams of moto-greatness have faded, but I will always keep trying to learn how to ride. As you all know riding is more than just a mode of transportation or a hobby, it is a part of your life. I have to thank my Dad for introducing me too it.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Stargzrgrl on July 13, 2007, 03:39:23 pm
(http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a284/stargzrgrl/ks04.jpg)

ST.N National, Eureka Springs, AR 2004.

This photo was taken on our way to find a disposable camera Krismark had lost during a group ride earlier that day.  It flew out of her tank bag shortly after she was taking some pictures on the fly.  She was quite determined to find the disposable camera as she had taken many pictures with it and was her only camera.  We back tracked thru Arkansas and into Missouri looking for that damn camera.  Got off our bikes somewhere near the Arkansas/Missouri border and walked up and down one of the roads where she thought she lost it kicking at various road debris such as snake skin, dead armadillos, and splinters of metal and wood.  At a gas station stop we were asked by a local woman if we actually rode our bikes all this way (from Indiana and Illinois respectively.)  :lol:

This is my favorite picture from my first ST.N trip to the Nationals.  :)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: st2sam on July 14, 2007, 08:40:35 pm
(http://i158.photobucket.com/albums/t86/st2sam/WorldsEndRideJune-1.jpg)
"On Any Sunday"
I'll never know when I'll find a perfect stretch of road, this particular day I had to say, "thank you God I've found the mother load"! :D My favorite Sunday morning rides start out very early Sunday morning usually solo with a full tank of fuel filled the night before. I don't even know what direction I'm going to go until I leave the driveway but I do have a plan, find new fun roads to enjoy. I like going solo because I can turn quickly at most any time if I see what looks like a good road. In my twisted mind It's kind of like searching for lost treasure and on this particular Sunday morning I did good, yep I found "The Mother Road"! :)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Lawn Dart on July 17, 2007, 01:09:45 am


So where's the story/pic that goes with your post? :twofinger:


LMAO!  Would you believe I actually did write one and then waited too long for the post to take!

So, here we go:

(http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j288/rnovielli/2007%20R1200GS/DSCF0257.jpg)

My first NEW bike!  

I've been through four bikes.  Sorta.  My first real bike was a 1976 Honda CB550 with 56,000 miles on it.  I paid $300 for the bike back in 1990 - I got ripped off.  Still it fed the seed of the insanity which ultimately led to my life today.  That CB didn't last long before it grenaded and it was nearly a decade before I bought my next bike.  And it was the bike that really started me down the sport-touring road:

Enter the 1987 BMW K100RS.  The great white battleship.  I bought it for $2900, put over 30,000 miles on it in 2.5 years, and then parted it out for $6,000.  Yep, I made a $3,100 profit on a bike I put 30k on.  Gotta love that!  Paid for my next bike in cash:  1995 ZX11.  I never did get along with the ZX11 and after 11 months and 14,000 miles I crashed it and sold it to ZX-Andrew who rebuilt it and put another 40,000+ miles on it.  The ZX led to my beloved 1995 R1100RSL.  A bike that I had every intention of keeping for the next 200,000 miles.  

Around 8 months ago I decided that it was time to put a second bike into the garage to compliment the RSL's fantastic all-around capabilities.  I searched high and low, far and wide.  Ducati (Monster, ST3, ST4s), Honda (CBR-RR's, VFR, VTR), Kwak (ZX6r, 9r), Aprilia (Tuono, Falco), Triump (Speed Trip) hell, I was even considering the ultimate insanity of a Bimota!  I wanted sub-500#, track capable, solo bike, 100 horses, and a 150 mile range.  I even tossed the K1200R and R1200S into the mix.  In the end the front runners emerged as the R1200s and the K1200r - seems I just can't shake BMW's as much as I tried.  8 months, a dozen test rides.  Bike swaps and number crunching.  Ideally I wanted a lightweight naked bike that could really rail.

The Fates intervened.  

The RSL blew the mainseal 10 days before my two-week summer vacation and left me no choice and no time:  the RSL would have to go to be used as a downpayment for a new ride simply because there was no time to fix her.  I was going to take a bath on the bike but life does that.  Fate had smiled on me again, blessing me with a wonderful sales year and putting some vitally needed extra funding into the bank at just the right time.

In the end the decision was easy.  It was the only Yellow bike in the shop.  Enter the R1200GS.  Sub 500#, 150+ range, 100hp.  It wasn't a naked and it wasn't the track bike I wanted, but with Alaska on next years calendar and the removal of the RSL from the picture I was right back into the need for a super-do-anything bike.

There's nothing quite like owning a brand new bike with Zero miles on the Odometer.  There's nothing quite like sitting on a bike for the first time and going "Wow.  This really is the one.".  And there's nothing quite like watching a bank account vaporize into a downpayment and the payment books...

I took the keys with a smile and wince.  The Boxer thrumped beneath me as I rode off, making all sorts of wonder "new bike smells" and sounds.  New vibrations, new steering angles.  A new life.

Everyone should experience the thrill of owning something that is 100% new, 100% theirs, 100% right from day One.





OH!  And btw, I didn't mean that the posters here couldn't make a post or comment about someone elses thread.  What I meant was that IF you wanted to comment on someone elses post you FIRST had to Add a new Pic/Story of your own before making a comment (and then, please, keep the comment in your own thread!).  The idea here is that each post should have a sing;e pic/story - with a minimum of chatter.  I'll post an edit to my original rules to reflect the change here.

Thanks!


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: MsLusty on July 17, 2007, 06:17:49 pm
(http://www.lusty.org/motorcycle/georgia0706/Day21-013.jpg)

June of 2006 I rode from California to Georgia and back, detouring through Colorado and Utah on the return trip.  On this day, traveling from Grand Junction, CO to Cedar City, UT, I took 24 and then 12 through Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument.  I stopped at the junction of 12 and 24 for an early lunch at a Subway sandwich shop inside a convenience store/gas station.  There was a group of Harley riders at the station when I pulled up.  They were in and out as I went in to order my lunch, and on his way out one of them called across the store, "Seeya, MsLusty!"  (MsLusty being the license tag on the Guzzi).

A few miles down the road, I stopped just before crossing the "Hogsback" section of 12, for a photo op.  While I was taking my photo, the same group of Harley riders came up from behind me (I have no idea when or where I passed them).  They slowed as they passed, and asked where I was headed.  I pointed down the Hogsback and they called "See you down the road!" as they rode off.  I wasn't far behind and they were, shall we say, erratic in their riding (it was clearly one or two experienced riders with one or two very new riders), so it wasn't long before I caught up to them again.  The stopped for pictures and I passed by them.

I stopped for gas in Escalante and saw them ride by as I was gearing up again.  I caught up to them again, and stayed back until Henrieville, where the rear guy in their group was riding exceptionally slowly as the speed ramped up on the other side of town.  As I passed, he turned, held up his camera, and snapped a photo of me riding past.  From that point, I rode in the group with them until just before the turnoff for Bryce canyon, where we all pulled off for this photo op.  While I was taking photos of the scenery, they were all busy checking out my bike.

They were apparently Canadian (their tags said British Columbia), and beer seemed to be part of every conversation.  They invited me to join them later at "Ruby's" for a beer, only they never said what town Ruby's was in.  They were off to Bryce Canyon, and I was on a mission to get to Cedar City, so we parted ways shortly thereafter.


Title: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: MisterSmooth on July 17, 2007, 08:55:10 pm
How is it that days spent on motorcycle trips crystallize in my memory like rocks on a streambed?  Daily life streams by; I can't generally tell you what I did on any given workday, but anytime I want I can, for instance, reach in and pull out the Saturday before last year's MotoGP, roll it around in my hand, reflect on it, relive it, and toss it back into the river when I'm done.

Last April I went to Italy and spent two nights in Mandello del Lario as part of a European family vacation.  The visit to Mandello was almost solely made in order to take a day ride on a new Moto Guzzi.  Now I'm always cautious getting too excited about this sort of thing for fear that the experience won't live up to my expectations.  After all, low expectations = higher degree of happiness.

Not to mention the degree of difficulty.  My entire family traveling to Mandello so I can go riding for the day.  Better be a good day, eh?


(http://i152.photobucket.com/albums/s177/raincitysmoothie/IMG_0741-1.jpg)


But amazingly enough, there are few ways my day of riding could have been better.
 
It was just one day.  But I got to ride a quality bike (the new Moto Guzzi 1200 Sport, a bike that's not available here); the weather was perfect; my wife and kids went to Bellagio and had a great time of their own; the people I met were friendly and as curious about me as I was about them; the bike didn't fall over; no performance awards were presented although I deserved a couple.  And after riding we had a truly exceptional meal with one too many glasses of delicious local wine.  I suppose that I could have met Loris or Valentino at Stop Moto Cafe, that would have made it better.   :lol:

And that single day is preserved in my memory although I'll be damned if I can tell you what I did last Tuesday.




OK, I posted up so I get to make a couple of comments.

1. black hills, that picture of your dad is special.  You really get a sense of him from one picture.

2. servicerifle, another special picture of you and your buddies.  After BMW-K came back from his last trip, he posted that you can always get a nice picture of the Tetons.  But the pictures you take with people in them, they really tell the story.

3. Great quote of the week:  "Everyone should experience the thrill of owning something that is 100% new, 100% theirs, 100% right from day One."   F*ck yeah.




Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: lionlady on July 18, 2007, 05:33:48 pm
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v287/Lion_Lady/Trips%20-%20MC/Sky_0013.jpg)

Skyline Drive, "Devil's Staircase" overlook. The tree looked really cool.

Last summer, my 16 year old daughter rode pillion with me to Athens, GA from Baltimore. We left when the "Monsoon" was moving up the coast at the end of June. We attended the AMA Women in Motorcycling Conference.

Our plan for that trip was to ride Skyline Drive to the Blue Ridge Parkway as far south as was feasible. But the heavy rains that hit made that plan a no-go. We slabbed it instead. My daughter was a trooper in the rain, and I promised we'd ride Skyline Drive before school started again.

We loaded up our camping gear and rode SD top to bottom. Saw a BEAR. Stupid tourists had stopped their cars, blocking BOTH directions to take pictures, and us 'naked' on a motorcycle with no place to escape to. Fortunately, a Park LEO was behind US...

We camped at Loft Mountain, rode the rest of Skyline Drive and down as far as Buena Vista on the BRP before turning for home.

P



Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: bluepoof on July 18, 2007, 06:26:59 pm
Other than hanging out with Mom, the main reason for my visit to Wisconsin in 2005 was to see my dad.  Dad loved to drag us to all the historical markers and sites of interest on trips -- it's most likely his fault that I grew up to be the sort of woman that hops on a motorcycle for three weeks and rides out to Wisconsin via Mt Rushmore and the Corn Palace. Well, OK, to be fair, it's my mom's fault I'm crazy enough to do the motorcycle bit...but the Corn Palace? That's all Dad.

Dad was diagnosed with Alzheimers in 1997, my junior year of college. At the time of this road trip, he lived in a nursing home, about 20 minutes away from my mom's place, where his room was decorated with pictures of his old dog and of me riding my motorcycle. I started riding after the disease left him incapable of understanding what that meant, but he still liked to show off the photos to the nurses. I became a bit of a local celebrity when I'd visit.

While waiting for church on Sunday morning (there's a chapel at the nursing home), I asked Dad if he wanted to see my motorcycle in person. He said yes, not understanding that he'd have to go outside -- he liked his routine, and leaving the Alzheimers wing, much less the building, frightened him. But he was very brave and insisted that he'd like to see my bike.

Dad passed away on December 16, 2005.  He's still the inspiration for many of my road trips and I know that he would be very proud of me and the places I've been.

(http://www.bluepoof.com/pics/may05/wi_trip/060705-muskego/cache/25pct/413_1383.JPG)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: MisterEd on July 19, 2007, 01:13:28 am
(http://www.mistered.com/pics/2005_BC/parker_homestead_3.jpg)

My Ducati as seen through the wall of the Parker Homestead near McAllister, Montana.

I was riding to the National in Montrose, CO back in 2005 and was on the southbound leg out of British Columbia where I'd already spent a week of vacation.  When I saw this little Montana Fish & Wildlife park along the side of the road, at first it just seemed like an interesting place to stop for a stretch and to take some pictures.  As I explored the site and read the historic marker signs there, I began to learn about the Parkers, Nelson and Rosa, who built this little sod-roof house in 1910 out in what was then pretty much the middle of nowhere.  They stayed in this place until the late 1920's, raised kids here, made a life.

in 1939, the house was bought by the Jewetts - Orville and Josephine.  They raised kids and sheep here and live in the house until the early 1950's.  The Jewett family is still in the area, as a matter of fact.

Why the history lesson?  Well, when I first stopped there, as I say, it just seemed like another in many rest stops along the long road.  But after a spell, I began to realize that this had been a home to quite a few people.  Good, solid, American pioneer-type people.  This house had once been filled with laughter and tears, dirty laundry and firewood, prayers and happy tunes whistled while the work was being done.

When I took this picture, I think I was just trying to be "artsy-fartsy".  But when I got to the point of putting in a trip report for ST.N and my website - well, by then, this particular picture had taken on extra meaning somehow.  I was surprised to see that it said so many things.  Like looking through time, my little plastic horse out there was just sitting patiently, waiting for me to come back to the 21st century and take up where I'd left off.  I took quite a few pictures at that site, but this one sticks in my head as an image to remember that trip by.
Posted on: July 18, 2007, 22:11:48
(http://www.bluepoof.com/pics/may05/wi_trip/060705-muskego/cache/25pct/413_1383.JPG)
Carolyn ... you just made me cry.   :)/ :(


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: awlittle on July 22, 2007, 11:12:41 pm
I rode to California to see if those big trees were real.

(http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a343/awlittle/P1010149-1.jpg)

They were.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Rigger on July 23, 2007, 02:49:55 pm
Hey Poof that was really awesome what you wrote about your dad.  I dread the day my dad can no longer ride. Thank God he still has his health.  Whenever I am home (London, Ontario) dad and I take his bike and my brothers bike and we go for quite a ride together. When I read what you wrote it too brought tears to my eyes.  Thanks for reminding me how good I have it being able to ride with my dad.  


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: jackpiner57 on July 25, 2007, 08:41:54 pm
My solo ride to Cape Breton Island was the best I've ever done. Day 2 I stopped in Cheticamp for dinner and had Haddock and clams. It was awesome. After dinner I found a gravel road on the coast and got this picture of the 650 V-Strom at sundown. Short story so 2 pics :o
(http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i291/jackpiner57/Cape%20Breton%20Ride%20Report/P1010165.jpg)

Next morning after entering Cape Breton Highlands National Park
(http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i291/jackpiner57/Cape%20Breton%20Ride%20Report/mooseandbike2-websize.jpg)


Title: Fogy Fresh Mountain Ride in Bali
Post by: Nugroho on July 26, 2007, 06:22:27 am
This was back to Dec 2006. We rode from Jakatra to Bali (1400 Km). :)

Riding in fogy fresh mountain air down from Kintamani to Ubud, Bali:
(http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o104/ASNugroho/Ride%20to%20Bali%202006/072.jpg)
Complete Story: https://www.sport-touring.net/forums/index.php/topic,3864.0.html


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: opus on July 27, 2007, 02:40:00 am
Montrose, 2005.  Bcorn and I had left that morning from Pike's Peak, and were now back in Montrose.  After tearing up the pavement all day and enjoying a Butterfinger Blizzard, Bcorn snapped this picture while I was blissfully riding along sans helmet on the way to her friend's place.  That was one of the best days of my life.  =)

(http://landofopus.com/images/posts/happy_opus.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Busy Little Whiner on July 27, 2007, 03:41:38 am
(http://www.fox302.com/userdata/netters2/files/ShopPics/250HuskyEnsenadaMexico.jpg)



There came a young rider from across the boarder to a beach in
Ensenada... where the sand is smooth as glass and moist as slush...
high in the sky rest the sun... the rider goes forward in the ultimate
solitude known as "spinning donuts"... dozens and dozens of feet up
donuts are a source of never ending joy until... the rider spots a
single ray of sun glint off a chrome plated 45 caliber pistol... there
stands a tall figure of a man holding the pistol with both hands... the
man is a hired security guard... he has nothing to do but to protect
the beach... acres and acres of sand perfect for a rider to play on...
the man is mad and the rider's fate hangs in the moment... the rider
gives up... it's the code of the west... he stops to face the man and
the 45... the hammer is cocked... there's a finger on the trigger...
the hands are sweaty... the arms are protruded... the face of the
man is mad... it reads intruder alert on his protected beach... a
heavily accented voice bring forth the charges... "you drive crazy"...
this could be it for the rider... there are no places to run... no places
to hide on an lonely beach in Mexico... the rider gestures with raised
arms "don't shoot me"... the barrel of the chrome 45 comes closer...
the rider moves his head to the left... the barrel pursues left... the
rider moves his head to the right... the barrel pursues right... The
dialogue is one sided... the rider swears to leave this man's beach at
once and shall never return as long as he lives... the man waves the
barrel in the only direction the rider should go... the rider turns his
back and starts the his trusty Husky... the engine answers on the
first kick... the staccato cadence of the two stroke engine is all he
hears roosting the sand but it's the fear of the first crack of a zipping
bullet that keeps the throttle pinned...


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: JonS on July 27, 2007, 10:35:35 am
(http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y25/jons/DSC_0221.jpg)

Last year, in the very early spring, I finally managed to take a long ride on my brand new Multi. This was really the first time in about 25 years that I bought exactly what I wanted, without compromise. Over the winter I had gone on short outings and tried to become familiar with this completely different sort of machine. The weatherman said that it wouldn't rain so I headed up Hwy 9 from Arlington. There was very little traffic and the road was mostly dry. It was one of those days that felt so peaceful and the motorcycle and I were one.
 This is just a place along the way that I have always liked.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Meat sac on July 30, 2007, 12:46:02 am

(http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a206/1KPerDay/Fandango%20in%20Durango%20June%202007/838aa851.jpg)

Picture not particularly interesting but whadayagonnado?

June 24, 2007, near Ouray, CO. Lowsided in some invisible gravel. I had ridden Red Mountain Pass 5 times over the past 3 days and had seen gravel higher up on the pass, but didn't see anything where I crashed. I was with my dad so I was going quite slow--probably 30 or 35 max. I went down and had no clue why. My dad made it through fine; the rest of the GPz listers made it through fine. I guess I hit the one spot where there was some very fine, road-colored, dusty gravel. I walked back up there and still couldn't see anything until I was standing on it. A very small amount, not what you'd expect when you think of 'gravel in a corner.' 20 years of riding and my first crash. Sigh.... :rolleyes:

Picked up my bike using the girly method, picked up what I thought was a D-cell battery in the road -- and what I momentarily thought I had hit and what had caused me to crash -- but it was my Throttlemeister which had snapped off. Front brake lever lever was bent down onto the fairing. Tried to bend it up enough for clearance and it snapped off in my hand. Upper fairing rashed, lower rashed, givi rashed, front tursignal broken but bulb okay/functional, motolight snapped off and dangling from the wire. Cut it off, took a Lortab my dad had, tried to start the bike, cranked but no go. Remembered the ZZR forum mentioning a main fuse that sometimes can blow if the key's on but the kill switch is off. Took top inner fairing off and then the side panel, checked every fuse I could see, none were blown. Put it back together, cranked and cranked, no start. Finally said a prayer and told God my wife needed me at home, I had a long way to go and I sure could use some help.

Cranked it and it started up. :bigok:

Sat on the bike for a couple of minutes; shoulder was very painful in every position except with my hands on the bars. Luckily the throttle worked properly despite the bar being bent and the end snapped off. Decided to try it. Rode for a while, grabbed at air where the front brake lever was 3 or 4 times, but got used to downshifting well before a stop and using only rear brake. Luckily we were almost down to Ouray already and it was pretty flat/straight riding for the rest of the day.

Got to Ridgeway, CO; Dad needed to stop so I bought some ibuprofen and tried not to scream while I removed my stich Darien and put on my armored mesh. 2 cops were standing there watching me so I was afraid if I acted too much like an invalid they'd call an ambulance. Got back on and headed north. Fueled in Fruita, CO, soaked my jacket and took another Lortab. Felt reasonably good as long as I was on the bike. Butt didn't even hurt, LOL.

Fueled in Price, UT and had a late lunch at Grogg's; great burgers. Made it home about 5 p.m. 360 miles in 100+ degree temps after crashing.

Oh. 50-cent piece sized rash and large bruise on right knee (jeans), very small amount of fabric rash on both forearms, minor abrasions on Teknic Violator gloves, haven't really looked at my Oxtar Matrix boots but no injuries to ankles or feet, scrapes all over and small hole in shoulder of Darien, some light rash on helmet. I think the Givi saved my leg. No damage to rear of bike or pipe.


Shoulder not broken... hurts like hell though.  :crazy:


OMG!!

Glad you're okay but selling you that bike was a bad decision on many levels.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: 1Arm on August 01, 2007, 02:50:00 am
Sometimes surprising how delightful a lunchbreak consisting of peanutbutter and water can be.

(http://img260.imageshack.us/img260/9797/stnturnbackis3.jpg) (http://imageshack.us)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Lawn Dart on September 03, 2007, 10:03:05 pm
(http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j288/rnovielli/2007%20August%20Dirt%20Riding%20with%20Mark/DSCF1121.jpg)

There's nothing quite like the bond of family.  Love 'em or hate 'em, family is family and always will be.  My Brother is nine years younger than me which means we never really did a whole heck of a lot together as kids.  Well, I got stuck baby-sitting him and by the time he was really old enough to play ball I was off in high school, working a job, and trying without much success to pick up chicks.

Around four years ago my brother got into off-roading.  When the costs of off-roading a truck got in the way he sold his truck and bought a dirt bike.  Hey, it's got two wheels and a motor.  I could only applaud.  And then he decided to upgrade bikes and for a very short period of time my brother had two dirt bikes...

There's nothing like spending time with family.  I got to spend a Saturday with my kid-brother.  Family is precious.  Spending time with family is one of the greatest gifts in the world.

Here's to Family!


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: rball5 on October 05, 2007, 10:12:44 pm
I can't let I good thread die... I had been checking this thread daily for awhile; I'm a lurker everywhere I go.  Someone else post up - I enjoy the short story & the good pics associated with 'em.

Willow City Loop:
(http://i222.photobucket.com/albums/dd216/rball5/100_1817Medium.jpg)

It was a Friday morning in August and I was supposed to be at work in about 10 minutes...  My commute is an hour long, and the weatherman said temps would be in the 80's (in August, in Texas, that's nice :)).  In my worst ever 'sick voice', I called work to inform them I wouldn't be there that day.

There was no plan other than to eat at Coopers BBQ in Llano (voted best in Texas a few times, but it wasn't all that impressive to me).  I headed out along some of my favorite roads in search of new ones along the way - it was that day I found Willow City Loop (which I would later find out had been voted one of the most scenic roads in Texas).  The roads surface isn't all that great, and there are 'Loose Livestock' (along with loose livestock droppings mid-corner...and everywhere else), but the views were great.

As I rode along, I saw lots of signs warning me of possible cows in the road, but until the corner in the picture, I hadn't seen any evidence of said beasts.  Stopping to take this picture stopped me from going around the corner too fast into the waiting bull - yes, a bull standing in the middle of the road doing nothing more than BS'ing... literally.  He stared at me, even spoke to me for a bit when I stopped mid-turn before walking away dropping used food every step of the way.  I've been back to the road a few times now, even taken some people with me - everyone likes seeing the cows walking around.  They're always hanging around on or just inches off the road.

I rode about 450 miles that day... seemed to cure my 'illness'.   :D


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: st2sam on October 06, 2007, 09:31:36 pm
Ever have a days ride when every part of the day/ride went perfect? Well for me today was that day, perfect, all 380mi. of it, the weather, the roads, the traffic, the ice cream, the lunch (bag of penuts & water :D), the people (OK I was by myself  :p) but most of all my "state of mind"...Have fun. :lol:
(http://i158.photobucket.com/albums/t86/st2sam/Oct6th07ride008.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: bobmielke on October 07, 2007, 08:01:35 am
During my vacation this year I attended A WCRM Sport-Touring rally in Fortuna, CA. This is the home of the Avenue of Giants. I've never seen such magnificant trees. Kinda puts you in your place. I rode with two friends down this stretch of road who stopped to take turns photographing each other with the trees in the background. I now realize how very few photos of me on my bike exist, one.
(http://bobmielke.smugmug.com/photos/174497168-M.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: heinee on October 08, 2007, 10:42:50 pm
Spring time on the Sacramento Delta, after breakfast in Isleton. The lovely wife took this photo using my shoulder as a tripod.
p.s. thanks DogBoy for putting the camera in her hands  :)



Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Lucky_Devil on October 08, 2007, 11:24:10 pm
For some reason I wanted to hunt out "Area 51" out in the Nevada desert... in late June... in my leathers  :crazy:

(http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2256/1520818640_d34d22def1_o.jpg)

By the time I reached Rachel, NV I didn't care any more  :lol:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Z1_NESTer on October 09, 2007, 01:10:09 pm
(http://www.ctballos.com/nest/uploads/1170046722/gallery_11_2_33220.jpg)

I just separated with my wife of less than 2 years (but 6 years total together) and decided on treating myself to a trip. So I rang up my buddy in San Jose, CA a asked if I may fly out, stay with him and his famil and catch The Moto GP a Laguna Seca together. He said "You get the airfare and rental bike, I'll take care of everything else." I said "Great! Sounds like a deal. I'll see you soon".

Got on the internet made my airfare purchase and then searched about motorcycle rentals. Well, knowing I was doing this kind of last minute I figured my rental options were going to be slim. No problem. I know Eagle Rider is one of the largest renters, mostly HDs, so I went ahead and looked at what they had. The San Fran operation said they had an 883 Sporty available and thought that was good enough. I know it doesn't have much in power but it had mid mounted controls and at least it could handle most of the twisty stuff I know I was going to encounter. Perfect. I made the reservation and was looking forward to some good riding, good times and good racing with a friend who is like a brother to me.

I arrive in San Jose on a Thurs. and was greeted by my friend and his son. I was happy to see them and felt good being there and spending some time with them after the whole separation thing. He took me back to to his place, we had our traditional celebratory beer, ate and went to bed looking forward to getting to SF and picking up the Sporty in the morning.

Next morning we get up, eat breakfast, suit up and I then jump on his R1200 GS riding bitch. I'm not ashamed of it, we've done it before in our past while stationed together in Japan. Usually because my bike was broken, crashed or got stolen. Anywho, we get to SF and Eagle Rider and there is a bit of a line as expected. I wait a while for my turn to approach the counter. When I finally was up I gave the man my reservation and goes onto his computer. I hear next was " I'm sorry we're out of Sporties. I'll be upgrading you to a Fat Boy." . "A Fat Boy?" I said. "Yes" he says. "Is there anything similar to the Sporty?" I  ask. He said "No, but we won't charge full price for the Fat Boy upgrade for the inconvenience." My first thought was that the FB (Fat Boy) is long, low, heavy and slow, not that an 883 Sporty was fast but it would handle better. I agreed to it since I really wanted to ride around this area of Cali. and to the races.

They roll out the bike, go over everything, hand me the key and sent me on my merry way. Well, the first thing I do as I pull away and make a left turn following my buddy on his GS, is to put the left floorboard firmly into the well abused SF asphalt, SSSSCCCCCRRRRRRAAAAAAAAPPPEEEEE........ ......... "Shit!" I said in my helmet "I didn't think I made that sharp of a turn, did I?" I knew right then that this was going to be interesting dynamic of a Sportbiker gone STer on a Hardly Fat Boy. Needles to say, it was an adventure.

That first day with the FB my friend took me out to some beautiful curvy, windy, twisting pieces of asphalt. I learned real quick the abilities of the FB. Slow down wwwaaayyy before the corner, use as much road as you can, make smooth inputs, hold your line as steady as possible and only correct when the hard parts really start digging in. BTW, the floorboards on the one I'm riding don't fold. It may be for the best since the crash bars were not far behind.

Before we left SF he said we were going to Alice's Restaurant, a biker's haven in the middle of some great roads. I couldn't wait but will I or the FB or both make it one piece. Well, I did but the FB lost some weight through the thorough wearing of the floorboards. As soon as we parked at Alice's I yelled to my friend "This thing is the biggest piece of shit I ever rode!" As he's laughing a gentlemen came over, an obvious HD fan, and asked "What's wrong with it?" I responded in all of my colorful NY Long Island accent "It doesn't fuckin' turn! It does nuthin' but scrape fuckin' floorboard!" With a surprise look on his face I continue and point at myself in my glorious ATTGATT "Do I look like the the type to ride this thing?" The gentleman promptly leaves without another word. My friend is now in tears and says "So, you must really like it?"

I get my gear off and got my camera and asked my friend to take a pic of me and the FB. Just as he says cheese I show how much I felt about the FB and all it's glinty chrome covered, slow going, no turning, overweight self. But all in all it was a fantastic trip and got to see some great scenery, great roads (especially the PCH) and great racing. The trip was exactly what I needed and will do it except with something better like maybe a Honda Spree...........


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Mrs.BMW-K on October 20, 2007, 10:38:23 pm
(http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j288/rnovielli/2007%20STN%20National%20Days%209%2010%2011/DSCF0527.jpg)

The rain had started the previous day.  As we were riding along in the 45 degree temps, with water beginning to seep into various seams I wondered if the next day would clear up so we could have our first view of Glacier National Park.  By the time we got to Kalispell, I was numb, and every time we stopped water would pour out of my sleeves like a river.  It was quite a sight!
Alas, the following morning proceeded much as the day before.  As we rode towards Glacier, I sent up a brief prayer that despite the rain and lightening we would have the chance to see a little something, but it didn't look good.

Then it happened... every so often as we rode along the clouds would part like a curtain and these beautiful vistas would appear.  It was magical, and lasted all the way to the top with more and more majestic views as we rose (where the road was closed because of a mud slide).  Of course, it only lasted until we got to the top.  As we descended it proceeded to to rain harder and harder until it turned into a downpour and we had to seek shelter; but this picture will always remind me of those moments - those brief beautiful moments that come when you least expect them.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: miles on October 21, 2007, 12:19:30 am
(http://cpe-24-94-27-69.san.res.rr.com/~milestodd/Going%20Home%2005.jpg)

I had been kicking around the thought of doing a SS1K ride to get my IBA certification, and it occurred to me that if I stuck to the coast road whenever possible, it would be a thousand miles to Fortuna and the '06 WCRM.  In the lead-up to the WCRM, n2q (Brian) asked if anybody from SoCal were going up on certain dates (keeping it pretty short).  I said that I was, but I was planning on doing it the hard way.  He replied "Sure!  Why not?"
So, we met at the Mexico/US border in San Ysidro, which was an event all by itself.  There had been a shooting by border agaents just a little before we were to meet, so the freeways were closed, so we had to navigate city streets to get there.

Anyhow, we got rolling at 10:00 at night, right when we'd planned.  We rode up I-5 to Malibu, where we dropped in on Highway 1.  The reason for the late start was two-fold.   The more important was that we wanted to hit a relatively populated stretch at night to improve our chances at finding open gas stations (proved to be a good strategy, by the way) and to plan our arrival in Fortuna at dinnertime, more or less.

From the moment we got on the coast highway, it started to drizzle.  We rode in fog, drizzle, and darkness until breakfast in San Luis Obispo.  After that we rode in fog, drizzle and daylight to the San Fransisco peninsula.

We hit quite a few road washouts that had mostly been repaired, but were still giant gravel sections.  When we got to Half-Moon Bay we had to cut inland because the road ahead was non-contiguous (a problem that would rear its ugly head again).  After crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, we cut across to the coast again only to be turned back at Woodville.  We had to backtrack to Stinson Beach, then cut across to Mill Valley and 101.
Did I mention the big gravel sections?  By this time we'd hit dozens.  Oh, and the drizzle had long since turned to steady (but not too heavy) rain.

So, arriving several hours later back at pretty much the same point we'd turned off 101 for the coast, we jumped back on the highway and headed north.  At this point it had become clear to even us that the coast highway was simply no longer a workable strategy, so we figured we'd cruise up 101 to make up time.  With the backtracks and crummy road conditions we were well off our SS1K pace.

Did I mention the rain?  At this point it was a solid downpour.  Not "heavens opening" rain, but heavy nonetheless.  Now it was about five pm, and rush hour traffic was absolutely crawling.  We dropped in behind a local guy and lane-split in the rain at 70mph (twice the speed the cars were travelling at) FOR AN ENTIRE HOUR.  Now that is some kind of adrenaline rush.

 After traffic eased up in Geyserville, we rolled along at a spritely pace on 101 to Fortuna, as the rain continued unabated.  When I say "spritely" I mean a really solid pace.  In the now quite heavy rain.  101 is classified as a freeway for a lot of its length in this section, but it is a twisty, mountainous, tar-snaked chunk of road, to be sure.  Poor Brian told me later he was following me, telling himself that if I made it through a given turn and didn't die, his chances of survival were bound to be good, too...  and praying, and tring to think calming thoughts.
 
We rolled up to the Eel River Brewery at about 7:30 pm, said hello, and jumped back on our bikes.  We we still a few miles shy of our 1K, and damnit, we were not going to work that hard just to be denied at the end.  We cruised through town northbound, then picked up the speed a bit.  
Running a mental calculation, we turned got our reciept and turnd around in Oreck, and buzzed back down.  Running through town, we stopped for gas and our last receipt at 9:57pm.  According to my GPS, it was 1013 miles in 23 hours and 57 minutes.

We rolled back down to the brewery and a few stragglers were still there to congratulate us.

The next day Brian and I did the Lost Coast ride, thankfully in the dry.  No rain.

However, it occurred to us that 1013 miles left very little margin of error, and with our backtracks we might well not be able to prove it, so we decided to do another SS1K ride back to SoCal.

So, sunday, that what we set out to do.  We rode the coast highway north to Crescent City, then cut inland on 199 to Medford, Oregon.  Oh, and it was raining again.  We hit I-5 in Medford, and boogied south at a reasonably high rate of speed.  In the rain.

As we progressed into the Central Valley, things really atarted to get ugly.  The rain was coming down so hard you couldn't see a quarter mile ahead, and so the car and truck traffic, to compensate for the lack of visibility and dangerous conditions, SPED WAY THE FUCK UP.  We passed literally dozens of car wrecks off on the shoulder, while riding at 90+ mph just to keep up with traffic, all while being doused with rain and spray that had all the force of a freakin' fire hose.  It was the most insane thing I have ever seen, and unbelievably frightening.

We were soaked through and through (our rain gear having lost the battle a long time ago) and spooked by all the accidents.  It was getting late and colder and colder.  The Grapevine and Tejon Pass were looming up ahead, along with most likely even worse road conditions, if that could be possible.
Finally we decided that it would be far better to continue to live rather than die in some pileup, and we got a room in Buttonwillow and gave up on the SS1K.

The next morning was beautiful, cool but clear and dry.  Without any deadline, we rode up and over the pass (the photo is from a viewpoint in that area) and on to Lake Elsinore where Brian lived.  I continued on to San Diego, and home.

Looking at the numbers we would have been well in the good on the SS1K if it weren't for the weather on the return leg.  It was over a 1050 miles to Brian's exit from where we'd started, and we had 21 hours riding time (omitting the motel stop, but not the resatuarant dinner immediately before).


As an epilogue, we have never submitted the paperwork for the ride up.  Mapping it out on Mapquest, we can't prove the mileage we lost because of backtracks from road closures.  Those lost 27 miles put us at 986 provable miles.  Ouch.

All in all it was a great experience, but a frustrating one, too.  I guess they say that "Adventure Isn't Fun When You're Having It" and this trip certainly seemed to bear that out.


miles


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Orson on January 10, 2011, 01:15:19 am
Bumping an old thread  :)

At a gas stop in the town of Aritzo in the mountainous Monti del Gennargentu region of Sardinia, tragedy struck my tank bag. As I was filling up, the tank bag fell off to the side of the bike, snapping off one of the straps  :( I managed to rig the remaining strap so that I could continue to ride, but it would be better if I could get it fixed. At that night's hotel, I asked if there was a cobbler in town. After getting directions through a labrynth of streets (asking two more times) I finally managed to find a tiny shop the size of a small closet.

I showed the old man the problem and he immediately set about fixing it. Within 5 minutes, he had expertly stitched the strap back on. Good as new! What had looked like a dire situation 12 hours earlier, evaporated in the clear morning sunlight! He suggested 1 Euro as compensation. I gave him 10 Euros. I almost had to force him to take it.

Old world craftmanship...

(http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b173/Orsoni/Picture017.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: st2sam on January 10, 2011, 09:33:03 am
Thanks Orson, great winter thread. Looking back at the old post it's amazing how things change, time fly's.(Number three post for me. :o)
 
It's late afternoon on a late summer day only 10-15mi. from home. I started early, solo, riding at a brisk pace. Pushing three hundred miles since early morning, time to slow down and put things back into perspective. Ever notice how every thing seems to be in s l o w motion after a few hours of high speed riding?
 
I'm in a great state, not the highest Mtns., deepest valley's or the smoothest roads.  We have wet Springs, hot Summers,  colorfull Autums, white cold Winters, miles of great winding roads most with awesome vista's. What's not to like? (except a shorter winter :p)
 I always take my camera, I almost allways stop for a few pics, on this late summer day I'm glad I did.  :thumbsup:

My home state, care to guess where?
(http://i158.photobucket.com/albums/t86/st2sam/a441e98f.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Mr.Black on January 10, 2011, 10:18:33 am

My home state, care to guess where?

Vermont or Up State N.Y.?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


I have been digging through old photos and many are of the old HD days.

(http://i855.photobucket.com/albums/ab119/john2cook1/welcometothekeys.jpg)

In 1990 my wife and I left New England in a blizzard and towed what seemed like my entire garage to the Keys. I rolled the bike off the trailer and immediately found that the master cylinder had failed. Towed the damned thing 1500 miles+ to ride in the sunshine and have to rebuild the brakes upon arrival. Luckily there was a small shop on the Island we were camping on that honed out the cylinder and supplied me with new innards for a decent price. Looking at how I was addressing my lovely wife, I am not surprised we are divorced.






Edit to comply with the thread rules. :thumbsup:



Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: bljakkl on January 10, 2011, 02:30:18 pm
(http://i568.photobucket.com/albums/ss125/bljakkl/Picture012.jpg)

Hurricane ridge in the Olympic mountains.  I was only a few months removed from a desparation move from Las Vegas to Seattle, a place from my youth.  My wife had decided she'd rather make a life with someone else and I was feeling empty and lost.  I just wanted to be where she was not.  It turned out that you can't go back, all the people I'd known had moved on in life and I was feeling empty and alone in a little one bedroom apartment.
Enter my $700 V65 Sabre.  One thing that had not changed about the pacific northwest was the beauty of the scenery and the assault on the senses during the 4 day long summers they have (sometimes five).  It was not a long trip, but it was during a weekday and traffic was light.  I caught the ferry to Bremerton and headed out.  The smell of the pines and the flowers in bloom gave my soul a lift from the blackness that I'd been embroiled in for the previous several months.  During the ride up to hurricane ridge I was able to release a lot of the anger I'd carried and realize that life was not over and that this was indeed just another beginning.  By no means an epic ride, but one of those moments of epiphany that stay with you.
Oh, and a bowl of Ivars clam chowder at the top.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Jim Chamberlin on January 10, 2011, 06:09:38 pm

(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v303/chamberlincalls/101-6-12-10-1.jpg)
It was warm once and will be again.
(I like short stories)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: cbolling on January 11, 2011, 12:56:15 pm
(http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m88/Bolling71/CIMG0790-1.jpg)

I was hungry.

Greasiest food in the South.

End of Story


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: lobo10s on January 11, 2011, 05:45:45 pm
(http://lonestarlobos.smugmug.com/Motorcycles/2010-Road-Trips/Colorado-Ride-Day-4/1000935/907636708_Hevkn-L.jpg)

We started on our first ride together over 5 years ago. Every trip together we take self pics of the two of us. It has become a tradition. We have done many trips in those 5 years and this is one thing that always makes us smile.. Hey it is corny i know.. but oh well.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: dorklord on January 12, 2011, 04:21:41 pm
(http://i280.photobucket.com/albums/kk197/darth_geekus/July%204th%202010%20vacation/100_0391Large.jpg)

Perspective is an amazing thing. From this  perspective, those bikes could be a slightly overloaded day trip to the beach, or the final result of someone riding halfway across the country to get to an ocean they've never seen. That could be any large body of water. There's something simply universal about the view.

The story of this picture is my ride up to the UP of MI last summer. Lack of vacation days and cost made riding to Alaska with my Dad completely impossible, but I still had grand plans for my wife and I to take our first 'real vacation' together. Unfortunately, a few incidents beyond my control burned a few more vacation days, and medical and budgetary concerns altered our food and lodging options, and the idea of riding out west with my parents and then splitting off to visit Yellowstone when they turned north to Canada fell aside as well. Then even fewer vacation days, uncertainty about dates we could go (which led to trouble finding places to stay) forced us to drop our plan to take a week and ride to the Ozarks. Left with a long holiday weekend, we chose to ride to the UP of Michigan.

The trip was great, and it served as a reminder that although big trips are great fun, you don't need to travel thousands of miles from home to go someplace 'new'.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Sputnik on January 12, 2011, 07:25:28 pm
(http://photoshare.shaw.ca/image/d/0/e/154210/img_0639-0.jpg?rev=0)

I am the type of person who has many acquaintances and only a handful of very close friends. I met my best friend in high school about 34 or 35 years ago. We’re both nuts about motorcycles. We rode together a lot when we were younger, but like many here, both went through a spell when we were without bikes and our attention was more focused on grad school, raising a family, working too hard, and so on. In about 2004, stressed out from work, and with middle age upon us, we both decided to get new bikes and get back into motorcycling. More importantly, we decided we needed a major getaway from everything—work, kids, etc. We needed a boys-only vacation on our bikes. A long one! So in June 2005 we set out on our first major sport-touring road trip together, about a month riding around the western USA and Canada on our Bandit 1200’s. We had no daily schedule, no route planned out, no hotels or campgrounds booked. We just rode all day, in whichever direction we wanted, occasionally looking at maps to find the next batch of twisty roads, or changing direction to avoid a major storm. After about 2 weeks on the road we’d ridden through plenty of rain, snow, cold, sunshine, blistering heat, and some of the most beautiful landscapes in the world. We were totally exhausted, but we were having a blast!

There are some days on such a trip that you really get into the groove. Everything is just right. The roads are incredible, you’re doing everything right on the bike, the scenery is amazing, and the camaraderie priceless. And things just work themselves out in strange ways—serendipity perhaps. This picture is the culmination of one of those days. We’d had a brilliant day, riding from Morro Bay up the PCH to Monterey, and then up through Salinas to Hollister. By the time we arrived in Hollister we were hot, tired, thirsty, and, having been camping for a few days, very much in need of a shower. With some trepidation and embarrassment we decided to check into the “Cinderella Motel” (not very manly is it!). Now neither of us is a Marlon Brando look-alike, and so either by chance or because of our odor, we were assigned room number 5: “The Wild Ones Room”. You will have to stay there yourself one day to fully appreciate the murals painted on the walls inside this room!  We showered up, headed to a nearby bar for plenty of well deserved refreshments, and retired to the Wild Ones room with the groovy wall murals at about 11 pm. We did not, however, get much sleep. The “neighbors” checked in to their own peculiarly named room at about 11pm. Then the party really started at about 11:30pm, with Mr and Mrs Neighbor (probably not their own partner Mr and Mrs) settling into what is probably the longest, loudest, and repeated love-making session in the history of Hollister. Actually love-making is probably too gentle a term; it was more of a full-blown shag-fest. At 4AM we were splitting a gut and still listening to the screamers next door, but didn’t have the heart to go and ask them to shut it down.

A few weeks later we completed our 10,000km boys-only sport-touring holiday. This trip with my best buddy is probably the most enjoyable bike trip and vacation of my life. It was the first vacation I had had lasting more than a week in the past decade. It was cathartic—sort of like rediscovering your youth.  We have done a similar trip every year for the last 6 years. But of all these trips, and all those days on the road and all those thousands of km, I will never forget that day riding the PCH and spending the night in the “Wild Ones” room. Priceless memories. See what stories lie behind a stupid motel room door picture!


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: bubba zanetti on January 12, 2011, 07:34:21 pm
Great story Ivan  :clap:  ... thanks.

I think I stayed in a sister motel in Greece ... OMG ... like a casting call for a Fellini movie   :facepalm:

Who knew that ... "Gala .. thelospho mijuska sigmoni SIGMONI xedohino splaghala !!! splaghals !!! "   meant  .. " do me in my lovely bottom you hairy greek man"


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Atitalongtime on January 13, 2011, 12:31:27 am
 :beerchug:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Rabidsnipe on January 13, 2011, 09:26:01 pm
I started working as an engineer at Tinker AFB straight out of school.  I entered a world of complex red-tape and antiquated hierarchy that was difficult to understand and impossible to penetrate.  I felt overwhelmed.

Shortly, I meet a group of engineers just a little older and all "cooler" than me.  They played sports, lifted weights together after work, would wakeboard on the weekends.  One of them owned a storage facility.  One of them was building a Cobra kit car in his garage.  These guys were the epitome of cool.  They took me in and started showing me the ropes.  They were better than me at almost everything save one: motorcycling.

Granted, I had a few years head start to polish my skills. When they found out I had a motorcycle, that I had ridden it places like New Mexico and Big Bend, and when I started riding everyday during the summer, I suddenly had some sway in this group of cool.  Only one way to solidify my place in the pack; take them on a motorcycle trip.

To Arkansas we headed; there were 7 of us in the group.  All but two had never been on an overnight motorcycle ride before.  All but two had never been out of central Oklahoma on a motorcycle before.  The best part of the trip was watching the lights go off in their heads as they realized riding a motorcycle through the mountains was a blast.  This picture sums up that emotion.  It was taken at the intersection of highway 16 & highway 21 in the heart of the Ozarks.  When we stopped, Todd (on the far right) jumped off his motorcycle and exclaimed "That was Awesome!"  He had never ridden a road like that in his life.

(http://gallery.me.com/charles.ray/100008/Oregon-20--20Motorcycle-20Trip-20023/web.jpg?ver=12274951330002)

Over time, our group slowly fell apart.  One of the guys moved to Utah to follow his wife to her medical residency.  One guy sold his bike for investments after he sold his storage facility.  One guy got spooked after crashing twice in a 6 month window.  One guy got married and we haven't seen him since.  I'd like to think that one day we can all get back together again and relive the glory days.  But until then, I can think fondly of the trip we had through Arkansas when Botts (far left) accidentally picked up a 43 year old mother of two and took her out to Dickson Street in Fayetteville.  But that's another story  ;)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Orson on January 17, 2011, 12:54:14 am
Further is the name given to the bus used in the 1960s by Ken Kesey and his band of Merry Pranksters to roam the country, fueled by youthful exuberance and perhaps a few other things  :) It's just a single word yet, somehow, a single word that manages to evoke wanderlust and the pull of the open road. To ride all day and then, wake up the next day and do it all over again  :) And when you finally get home to comfort and familiarity, you soon find yourself looking at maps and wanting to go further...

(http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b173/Orsoni/Picture002.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Mr.Black on January 17, 2011, 06:43:22 am

Further is the name given to the bus used in the 1960s by Ken Kesey and his band of Merry Pranksters to roam the country, fueled by youthful exuberance and perhaps a few other things  :) It's just a single word yet, somehow, a single word that manages to evoke wanderlust and the pull of the open road. To ride all day and then, wake up the next day and do it all over again  :) And when you finally get home to comfort and familiarity, you soon find yourself looking at maps and wanting to go further...

(http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b173/Orsoni/Picture002.jpg)


The bus came by and I got on that's when it all began.

(http://i855.photobucket.com/albums/ab119/john2cook1/HippieSmileyFace.jpg)

Doooood. :thumbsup:


No pic or story. Sue me.  :twofinger:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: tankhead on January 17, 2011, 07:50:30 am
(http://i183.photobucket.com/albums/x154/tankheadxb9sx/IMG_1683-1.jpg)
It was a trip of a lifetime.  Close to 8000 miles, solo, for three weeks.  This is Capitol Reef.  I was in the canyon of sheer magnesium stained walls.  I turned the corner I found myself in a pocked slit in the earth and the trail was getting more narrow by the yard.  As the sound of thunder cracked and the sky illuminated sparsely, I snapped some photos to remind me of this moment.  Though it is not in focus (many of the other shots were and are gorgeous) it is a reminder to me of the adventure I call "The Summer of 2008".


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: tjhess74 on January 19, 2011, 09:50:49 am
(http://i245.photobucket.com/albums/gg47/rehess79/289.jpg)

after years of talk, a friend and i finally got our asses organized and did the trip weve been dreaming about; we get on our bikes and go.  i had a new baby coming and it was now or potentially never; go for as far as we can in the time we had available.  turns out, in 21 days we rode nearly 8k miles from south carolina all around the u.s., mostly camping along the way.  ive travelled alot in my life and ive taken long bike trips...but not like this.  we saw sights that ive dreamed of seeing since i was a child.  things like yellowstone np, devils tower, bonneville salt flats, little big horn nbm, cadillac ranch, etc.  it was a relaxing time of discovery that i will never forget for as long as i live.  i can still close my eyes and feel the impressiveness of some of the most amazing places this country has to offer.

this pic is in the beginning of our third day, in b.f.e. nebraska.  the excitement level during this pic was almost uncontainable, as the weather and scenery were perfect, and we had the whole trip of unknown discovery ahead of us

ride report for those that are interested...
https://www.sport-touring.net/forums/index.php/topic,44415.0.html


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: GraniteGray on January 21, 2011, 11:43:27 am
My good friend 'Doug' tends to tip over, while on our off road excursions, at the most inopportune moments. I snapped this shot of him and his bike thrashing around, during a water-crossing off road tip-over. What're friends for, after all?!

 :D

(http://www.ridetherock.com/gallery2/d/7998-1/FrogRun04.jpg)



Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: connick on January 21, 2011, 01:31:25 pm
(http://i71.photobucket.com/albums/i147/sckego/Barber%208-10/101_2341.jpg)

August 2010.  Myself and 11 others made the 700-mile haul from DFW to Birmingham (in trucks, trailers, and a T-Rex... not riding the whole way) for a trackday weekend at Barber Motorsports Park.  It started raining as we got into eastern Mississippi and never really let up.  We went to bed Friday night praying for clear skies in the morning... it was not to be.  We woke up to more heavy rain, and with low spirits loaded up and set off for the track.  The mood was pretty subdued when we arrived.... nearly everyone there was from Texas and had just driven several hundred miles to attend this event, only to be greeted with weather like this.  On top of that, it was announced that we would be allowed to run in the rain if we chose, except that even that was being delayed due to lightning in the area.  So, it was back to the pits to wait it out and see if it would clear.  Finally at some time past 10AM the track went green for the first session, even though it was still raining steadily.  Everyone was taking it easy, due both to the rain and the fact that most of us had never been to Barber before.  We got a second session before lunch, and the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle... I think this picture was taken then.  By the time lunch was finished, the rain had stopped and the track was slowly drying out.  By midafternoon, it was dry, grippy, and everyone had a blast for the rest of the day and the next.  By far the most fun track I've ever been on, and totally worth the trip.  Goes to show that just because something starts out looking crappy, doesn't mean it won't get better!

Oh, and Ridesmart is returning to Barber for an encore this coming August.  Entries went on sale last weekend... the intermediate group sold out in less then 36 hours.  :eek:  Think everyone is excited about going back?


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: maddjack on January 23, 2011, 07:42:04 am
May 2003

I was in a blue funk after losing one of my best friends and a lifelong riding partner to a stupid tragic accident. I needed to ride to remember the good times we had, so I opted to take one of our favorite rides and ride Skyline drive and the BRP end to end. I hooked up with the other surviving member of the 3 amigos and we rode for 10 days and paid tribute to a great person, and freed our minds of his loss.


(http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a113/maddjack/2003044.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Ack535 on January 23, 2011, 10:23:14 am
This past October, the planets and stars all lined up for me. The weather was perfect (clear skies, mild temps,) the bike was all good, work was not an issue, and the wife gave me a kitchen pass for the entire weekend! :D

I rode out the to the "West Coast" of Michigan, and headed North.

In mid to late afternoon, I landed in the picturesque town of Charlevoix. Parts of this town are straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. That is where I took this shot.


(http://i474.photobucket.com/albums/rr106/ack535/PA090146.jpg)


Had a great rest of the trip through M 119 and across to Cheboygan where I ate some bad Chinese food for dinner! :facepalm:

Pete



Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Kneescrubber on January 23, 2011, 06:26:48 pm
In '07 David and I rode out to Monterey for the MotoGP at Laguna Seca. David left Houston a few days earlier than I left Dallas so he could visit some friends and relatives in SoCal. I left Amarillo early Thursday and arrived in Barstow that evening. Boy, I thought West Texas was hot in July. So I figured I'd outsmart the heat and get up at 4am so I could leave before the sun came up. Shit, I walked outside my motel room at 5am to load up the bike and it's still nearly 105º, and the suns not up yet.  :crazy: So the plan is get to the coast as quickly as possible. I picked up US 1 at Morro Bay and rode north to Monterey. I still maintain that sections of US 1 should be 2 wheeled motorized traffic only. David and I had a great time in Monterey, being at the track, checking out Fisherman's Wharf, all the touristy stuff. I even got to hook up with my bff:

(http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f361/pak714/meandkenny.jpg)

That's me on the right in case you were wondering.

So we left Monterey Monday morning and rode to Flagstaff on our way to sw Colorado. David had never ridden Colorado before and I was eager to introduce him to some of the roads I've been riding since I was a kid. We spent 3 days riding the San Juans and more. But in the end our luck finally ran out the day we were heading back home. Between Pagosa Springs and Chama we finally got caught about 10 miles from the CO/NM state line.

(http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f361/pak714/busted-1.jpg)

Oh well. It was a blast anyway.


And thanks Orson for reviving an old thread for some of us newbies.  :bigok:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: 1TRAK on January 23, 2011, 09:34:38 pm
(http://i766.photobucket.com/albums/xx304/1trakk/258-1.jpg)                                                       Highland Scenic Highway, Almost Heaven West Virginia.  Rode this slice of dessert last year on the way home from a BRP trip. West Virginia has endless curves that takes you to some of the most spectacular scenery you'll ever see. Try The Mountain State sometime, you won't be disappointed!    

 


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: FJR-UK on January 24, 2011, 09:06:12 am
I found an old box of 35mm slides that were going moldy. Here’s one I managed to salvage:

(http://homepage.mac.com/jerrys_ibook/Sites/Photos/Departure.jpg)
Lake Champlain, July 1983. (Left to right: Terry O’Brien, Paul Johnson, The Gorgeous Blonde I Travel With, Marie Johnson)

T.G.B.I.T.W. (aka Joanna) is English. I met her in Boston in 1976 and we were married in ‘79. She kept flying home to visit her folks and I was bridling at the cost. Plus, I fancied working in the London advertising industry. So, during the cold, cold winter of ’82, I decide we should pack up and move to jolly olde England.

I had a 2-5 year plan and, as I was going to be away so long, I didn’t fancy covering all that distance in just a few hours. So, we booked passage on the TSS Stefan Batory, a Polish ocean liner sailing out of Montreal to Tilbury Docks in London.

We were living in a rented apartment at the time. We had a yard sale and sold everything that we could not take on the ship. What didn’t sell, was given away. It was cathartic. I couldn’t sell my roller skates, so I found a girl who fit the skates, gave her a quick lesson and sent her away on wheels.

With the profit, we took all our friends to dinner.

Oh yeah, the photograph.

Another reason for the ocean liner was they would carry my bike and belongings. Also, we had never been to Canada, so we planned for a week in Montreal with a visit to Quebec. My mother and father in California would fly out to meet us and my great biker friends joined us on the trip from Boston to Montreal.

There were four bikes. Terry on his Kawasaki. PJ and Zoo-Tramp Marie on his Harley. Tommy on his Triumph (I think) and I was on the 1982 Kawasaki K1000J in the photo.

I hated travelling with this crew, because we never went on a run without one of them breaking down. They busted my chops when I bought Japanese, but I said I wanted a reliable bike. On this trip, I was the one who broke down.

I had overzealously tightened my chain for the trip, not taking into account the extra weight of all that luggage and T.G.B.I.T.W. on the back. By the time we got to Burlington, Vermont (I believe) I needed a new chain and sprocket set. Tommy and PJ were delighted.

It was my last bike trip in North America.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: RoadBound on January 29, 2011, 10:01:06 pm
IMG_6429

Taken in Glacier National Park, July '08. That's my ZRX in the background. The road in the picture is the Going To The Sun Road. It was just opened that day after the roads were finally cleared of snow. I stopped to get a picture of the Weaping Wall and noticed this ram up on the hillside. It calmly walked down into the parking lot and sort of ambled around. A woman started screaming for everyone to leave it alone that it was scared and trying to get through to the opposite side of the lot. What the ram was really doing though was looking for a handout. Enough people insist on feeding the animals that the park's wildlife know to associate tourists with food. After I took this shot, I sat down on a rock to get a better shot and it walked right up to me and stopped, obviously waiting for a treat. Unfortunately for him I think there are many good reasons not to feed the animals.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: fireman on January 30, 2011, 09:04:10 pm
I've been riding since I was seven. Watching my two children and my nephew talk about their day of riding in the same place I learned to ride is absolutely priceless. I will have this picture forever.

(http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h39/Z-1000/Family035.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: brockep on January 31, 2011, 08:45:15 pm
(http://i937.photobucket.com/albums/ad219/brockep/Wisconsin_2010/DSC01835.jpg)

Fall 2010 ride in Southwestern Wisconsin.   Great sunset over the Mississippi River Valley.  Picture taken from the overlook at Nelson Dewy State Park near Cassville, WI.

This was a great long weekend trip, the weather was perfect and the camp grounds in Wisconsin are really nice and everyone was very friendly.  Next fall I am planning on doing a similar trip.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: dorklord on January 31, 2011, 09:48:32 pm
(http://i280.photobucket.com/albums/kk197/darth_geekus/100_0304.jpg)

My dad I rode up to the Mississippi headwaters last year for Memorial day. My wife couldn't come along, and my Mom couldn't go either, so it was just the two of us. My dad was on his wing with his tent/trailer thing. There was a hot, stop-and-go traffic section on the way up there, and just after we got our tents set up, it started raining. The next morning it was drizzling and supposed to start raining at any moment, but we decided to go to the park and see Lake Itasca anyway. When we got there, I saw this sign and couldn't help but think of all the 'FJR is too big to be a sport touring bike' comments on here, so I snapped this picture.

We were nearly eaten alive by the mosquitoes (I didn't think they'd be able to bite right through my motorcycle jacket...), but got a surprise reprieve from them when it started pouring.


(http://i937.photobucket.com/albums/ad219/brockep/Wisconsin_2010/DSC01835.jpg)

Fall 2010 ride in Southwestern Wisconsin.   Great sunset over the Mississippi River Valley.  Picture taken from the overlook at Nelson Dewy State Park near Cassville, WI.

This was a great long weekend trip, the weather was perfect and the camp grounds in Wisconsin are really nice and everyone was very friendly.  Next fall I am planning on doing a similar trip.


Did you camp at Nelson Dewy? My wife and I camped in one of the 'walk in' or 'cart in' sites or whatever they call them. It is right on the edge of the bluff, looking out over the river. Simply amazing.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: brockep on February 01, 2011, 08:25:33 am
Yes I camped at Nelson Dewy State Park, which is right on the Bluff as you said.  The only thing was the train runs along the bottom of the bluff and they run all night every 45 min. or so.  You can hear them coming for a long time and in your tent if you get a site close to the edge of the bluff you almost thing they sound like they are going to run over your head.  Other than that it was a great camp ground.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: ZenMoto on February 04, 2011, 04:34:34 pm
(http://i.pbase.com/u36/dwagler/upload/23709169.27.jpg)

Thanksgiving 2003 was spent at a friend's house, in very good company, but my family was all back home in Chicago and I was unable to make it back to visit and felt "in a funk".  I went home to my apartment, and with nothing to do fell asleep early, only to wake up at 5am; extraordinarily early for me.  ...on a whim, and despite the cool temperatures (40f) I decided to jump on the VFR and go for a ride.

The route wasn't planned, but I ended up heading north through Ojai and Hwy 33, Lockwood Valley Rd, and west to Pine mountain; much of this with snow lining the roads and sub freezing temperatures.  ...but as cold as it got, my smile just broadened.  

As the day went on, and the miles ticked into the hundreds column I decided to explore an area I'd never been.  Just west of where Cerro Noereste and 33 meet is Soda Lake Rd., a mostly unpaved strip of road that leads out toward Morro Bay, intersecting Hwy 58.  After blasting down this gravel road for more than 30 minutes, noticing the storm front that was hovering just over the mountains to the south, and the warmish breeze that was sweeping the dust off the road, I cut the throttle and coasted to a stop.

Here I was, miles from anywhere, on a road only occasionally traveled, and I was in nirvana.

Just hours before I had been in a funk, missing my family, and generally just feeling out of sorts.  Here I was, in the middle of nowhere, hadn't seen another human being for an hour or more, under threat of a storm rolling over me, ...and I couldn't be happier.

This is what motorcycles are for me.  !  

This ended up being roughly my half way point for the day, and the smile never disappeared.  In all, it was a little over 520 miles from sun up to sun down, and it was just what I needed!


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: JimWilliamson on February 04, 2011, 04:46:55 pm
 :bigok:

Is that where your avatar pic was taken?


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: JimWilliamson on February 04, 2011, 05:05:05 pm
I'll toss one in...

(http://www.jimwilliamson.net/motorcycle/2005-09-us-n-canada/09-22/pfo-img_2591.jpg)

On an Alaska trip I make a decision to ride the Dalton Highway as far as I felt comfortable [the plan was to ride to the northern end but a snow storm was rolling in and I didn't feel like waiting around until after things cleared. It's a destination on my "some day" list.]

I ended up at the Arctic Circle turnout and pulled in a bit behind a couple other vehicles traveling together. In the end, they are what I call the French equivalent of our Discovery Channel. They were up producing a show on Alaska - and I found myself being filmed.

After we spoke for a few minutes, they asked if I'd ride in so they could film me. I obliged as they wished and their camera kept rolling. At one point, I pulled one of my contact cards out of a pocket and handed it to the gent I was talking with (not all knew English, I know no French). I said, my photos are here on my web site, if you wish to see them.

Well, it seems that segment was included in the show. My web site started getting hits from France. I looked through the web logs and found some forums over there where my segment was being discussed. Good times. From that rolled a kind request for a copy of the show. They mailed me a DVD of it and I enjoyed the scenery. All commentary in French, but some interviews were in low volume (translator talking) English. Great scenery and filming.

Pix from the day, with more of the event:
www.JimWilliamson.net/motorcycle/2005-09-us-n-canada/09-22/


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Kneescrubber on February 05, 2011, 12:38:06 pm
That is GREAT stuff Jim! So how long did it take to clean the bike?  :lol:  Don't ya just love Hondas?  ;)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: JimWilliamson on February 05, 2011, 04:13:42 pm

So how long did it take to clean the bike?


As much as I don't look for rain to ride in, the next decent rain did the bike right!

After the whole trip was over, several rags were sacrificed removing the tan film from everywhere on the thing. `twas a great trip - glad I did it.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: kurtw on February 10, 2011, 10:18:00 pm
Hi Jim, is the segment online anywhere?


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: JimWilliamson on February 11, 2011, 01:22:05 am

Hi Jim, is the segment online anywhere?

Pix from the day, with more of the event:
www.JimWilliamson.net/motorcycle/2005-09-us-n-canada/09-22/


I think you'd be happy with the segment listed on my web site. Hit the link, above, and about 40% down the page there's a bit of info.

If you wish to jump directly to the vid... (18MB, 2m21s)
www.JimWilliamson.net/motorcycle/2005-09-us-n-canada/09-22/2005-09-22-arctic-circle-tv3.mpg

The computer rolls through desktop background photos from my photo set. A few days back it rolled through the two smiles of you and your wife. Good Times!

When ya visit Colorado - the door's open!


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: kurtw on February 11, 2011, 02:11:18 am
Ah Thanks. I missed the video on your site. That whole trip is a great story.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Pfloydgad on February 12, 2011, 10:09:55 am
A great thread, here's one from a few summers ago. "The Intrepid 6"
6 Kawi Concours and their drivers on a mission, 3 days off work and 10 Riverboats.
July 2009 our goal was to head S. to the great state of Kentucky. With 10 Riverboats to cross and multiple rivers to traverse.  We crossed multiple rivers, including thr Big Muddy, as well as touching in 5 states along the way.
As a group we ammased a little over 9000 miles between us. So with easy math, we all hit 1500 miles ea. plus or minus a few. Campimg out in a field, cruising through the torential rain in the mountains, working down a gravel road with water running sideways, Rt. shoulder running to to get the exit off the bottlenecked freeway at 95 degrees. Letting GPS take us into Deliverence area with banjos playing in the distance. Just a ton of memories and just great friends and great riders to enjoy all of it with.
Everyone ride safe out there.
Greg


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: prkultr on February 16, 2011, 10:37:56 am
(http://i231.photobucket.com/albums/ee142/Jdog1129/IMAG0315.jpg)

This was a weekend to remember for me.  The trip was just a four hour jaunt down state to meet with a couple buddies who I hadn't seen in a while.  We named the weekend "Brew Ha Tour 2010".  Throughout the weekend we visited a bunch of microbreweries in Southern PA.  It was a weekend where we forgot about our wives and our employers and served as a reset button for us.

The trip back was my first time in a really bad storm.  It was the kind of storm where the rain was coming down sideways.  While on a highway coming north, I found myself hanging off the left side of the bike.  Then, a semi would come up next to me which caused me to shoot towards him.  By the time I compensated, the semi had passed and I was rocketed to the other direction.  I had 40 minutes of this.  Not fun!  The photo above was where I finally decided to call it quits for a bit.  When I went into the TA they were on a tornado watch.  When I walked out of the TA, I was greeted by blue skies!  It only took one trip up Wycoff Run to get me back to enjoying the ride.

(http://i231.photobucket.com/albums/ee142/Jdog1129/IMAG0309.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: BigBeavk on February 21, 2011, 07:34:40 am
Coming back from our first trip to the Dragon we had to make a run for it to dodge some storms. That morning we left Middlesboro, Ky and headed up Rt119 to Deep Creek Lake in Maryland. Hitting small patches of rain on and off throughout the day we made it in about 10 hours. Right before we entered WVa on RT 119 we topped Pine Mt running in fog and decided to take a quick break. It was quite harrowing as we dodged logging trucks going up the mountain taking up our lane and slinging mud all over us.

(http://i654.photobucket.com/albums/uu263/BigBeavk/PineMountain.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: olderigetfasteriam on April 13, 2011, 03:55:05 pm
.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: brockep on April 15, 2011, 08:04:48 pm
(http://i937.photobucket.com/albums/ad219/brockep/DSC01455.jpg)

Canyon carving on Colorado 141 south of Grand Junction.  On my way from Edwards, Co to Cisco, UT for two days of rafting on the Colorado River.  Then headed up to Jackson, Wy Yellowstone, Billings and then back to Iowa.  Great trip and great memories last summer.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Bill-Z on April 19, 2011, 08:46:37 am
I have been riding since I was 14 years old (a long time) and always wanted to ride off-road.  This year I bought my new dream bike: 2011 Vstrom DL650A.  As I researched my goal of riding more adventurously, I found a group of guys that we gathering for a ride not too far from my home and I jumped in with both feet.

When I arrived at the meet up point I found three other riders discussing the merits of their bikes as well as the handicaps: i.e. bikes that were too heavy for any serious off-road adventures.  I was getting more nervous by the minutes because my sparkly new bike weighed as much as two of their full on dirt bikes.  I had no idea what I was getting into because I had never been off-road in my life but I had been practicing in my yard.  hahaha  Boy, was I unprepared.
(http://i.imgur.com/DZJ1o.jpg)
The shot you see here was taken immediately after I fell into the first real mud hole that I could find, about 20 minutes into the ride.  It became crystal clear to me that I had the wrong tires on the wrong bike on the wrong trail with a woeful lack of experience.  Needless to say, I bailed.  The guys I was with were great because they helped me lift my new bike out of the mud, without laughing, and followed me back to more stable terrain.  I had a great time and I consider this my "baptism" into off-road riding.  I don't think I will take my Weestrom out again soon into that kind of serious dirt riding, but it was an experience that I will value forever.  Ride on!


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: 1KPerDay on April 19, 2011, 03:07:42 pm
Great pic. :bigok:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: stromgal on April 19, 2011, 05:31:04 pm
Way to baptize the Wee!  :bigok:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: aks801 on April 21, 2011, 03:26:08 pm
(http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk40/aks801/Thegirlhasgoodtaste.jpg)

Mine doesn't involve a trip so much, but is just a point in time.  To date, that's the only bike I've ever owned, and I only had it for a fairly brief time, selling it about 6 years ago.  It sure was gorgeous, though.

What really gets me about this one is the sense of time passing.  That ivy on the wall is now about 10 feet high.  And that little girl?  She wraps up 8th grade in just weeks, and then it is on to high school.

It's one of my favorite pictures of her, as it reminds me of how much she's grown, and of how much my kids (we have 4, the 3 others being younger than this one!) used to like to see me ride about on the bike.

Bike #2 will probably be acquired next year, and I look forward to really putting some miles on one, and of taking more pictures of kids with bikes.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: MK96xj on May 02, 2011, 10:43:03 pm
It started out as one of those days. The bigger dog ate another chocolate bunny and puked on the carpet, the smaller dog peed on the floor and the cat coughed up some nasty cat yack! All this before my first cup of coffee.  :hurl:

My youngest daughter, her friend and mom made cupcakes for the Spring Fling competition with edible flowers on top and mint in them. I hate mint! :bluduh:

The cupcakes had to be at the school before noon. My daughter and I hop in the car, she on the passenger side with the tray in her lap. An eight year old that inherited her father’s inability to sit still. I stop the car at the front door to the school and instead of waiting for me she throws open the door and I come around to cupcakes in the street. WTF CHILD!!!!  :mad2: I am thinking, trying to not blow my top. We get that sorted with extras.

I come back home to find my oldest daughter still has not done what her mother asked her to do 4 days ago…  She is on the receiving end of my frustration.  :firedevil:

I was suppose to go with the family to this Spring stupidness but not today. There is no way I could deal with stuck up PTA moms in this mood!!

It was time to clear my head in a very nature’al way. Let’s test myself and the Multistrada’s name.

A silent forest was just what the psychiatrist ordered.

(http://i214.photobucket.com/albums/cc19/mikekaiser/Moto%20Generic/0430111511.jpg)

Now on to EBay to order a replacement shifter for the one I snapped off lane splitting two boulders.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: jeepinbanditrider on June 14, 2011, 02:05:00 pm
My favorite spot on the "river road" between Terlingua and Presidio.  This picture was actually taken on a group trip with my dad and some of his friends.  We actually found a geocache up there with a bottle of booze in it.  It was placed there by some college buddies who promised eachother to make the trip back after a few years to drink the bottle.  The last time I was up on the hill it wasn't there anymore.

 But probably about 6 months after this I did a trip down there solo and sat on this hill for probably 2 hours (kinda lost track of time) just looking out over awesomeness that stretched out before me.   I've seen very few views past this one that makes me feel so insignificant.  I the pic I'm actually sitting on the edge of the cliff.

(http://a6.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2820/198/111/1416956060/n1416956060_30389164_2577046.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: hovmaven on June 14, 2011, 08:53:04 pm
Coming back from a morning ride with friends, many twisties, no deer and no performance awards awarded.  We were headed for pie,  :drool:, and ahead I see what I make to be a pirate, with what looks like a squirrel tail hanging out the back of the ride.  I get closer, set the thottlemeister, reach for the camera, feather the brake, and voila,

I call it Doggles:

(http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b76/hovmaven/harleyhwydog.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Justin on June 14, 2011, 10:25:21 pm

Coming back from a morning ride with friends, many twisties, no deer and no performance awards awarded.  We were headed for pie,  :drool:, and ahead I see what I make to be a pirate, with what looks like a squirrel tail hanging out the back of the ride.  I get closer, set the thottlemeister, reach for the camera, feather the brake, and voila,

I call it Doggles:

(http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b76/hovmaven/harleyhwydog.jpg)


I like the license plate .. "suuuueeeeee!!!"


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: hovmaven on June 14, 2011, 10:43:06 pm
A classic.   :thumbsup:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Orson on June 15, 2011, 02:00:39 am
Sardinia 2007

Riding through the Monti del Gennargentu region, the twisties seemed to go on forever! Entire tanks of gas were ridden in third gear. Every now and then I’d have to engage 4th gear to punctuate a short straight or dab down into 2nd for a tight switchback. The rest of the time, the Guzzi's broad torque curve allowed 3rd gear to take on the brunt of the load.

I couldn’t get over how little traffic there was! It was if someone had set off a neutron bomb. I might encounter 1 car every 15 minutes. Quite a change from the chaotic traffic on the Italian mainland! Roads didn’t seem to last for very long before they merged into other roads. It seemed like I had to stop every 5 km to check the map. Lots of head scratching.

There was no respite in the twistiness, no straights to allow any moment of relaxation. A magnificent preponderance of twisties, mile after endless mile. With temperatures in the mid-80s, by 5 o'clock, I was thinking about some relief. Almost as if on cue, a sign on the side of the road alerted me that there was a hotel 300 meters ahead. Within 30 minutes, I was dipping in the hotel pool and sipping a beer from the poolside bar. Bliss.

The perfect ending to a perfect day  :)

(http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b173/Orsoni/Picture023.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Raptormn on June 22, 2011, 01:18:50 am
October 2009
(http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5021/5858708875_c9bdfbb107_z.jpg)
FJR at the Pacific Ocean.

This trip has a lot of meaning for me. I had just suffered the heart break of my ex calling off our engagement and relationship. I also had decided to head back to afghanistan again so i needed some much needed road therapy. I was talking on the phone with my Aunt about everything and she suggested i come out and visit her in San Diego for a few days. So instead of taking a plane i said you know what i am just going to ride out there. The next day i left on my FJR. This was my first big trip like this. I ran into all sorts of things along the way. Down pour though most of the state of Oklahoma, wind and cold through northern new mexico, heat and wind in southern new mexico, bone cold ride from colorado springs to kansas. While sitting at the Big Texan having dinner i decided in the morning i was just going to ride till i couldnt go anymore. At the end of the day i ended up in Yuma having done my first unofficial SS1000. i could have went on to San Diego but i wanted to see the sites as i rode through. The trip showed me things i knew my heart knew but my mind wasnt sure about and that is long trips on the bike are things we work our jobs for. Other non bikers think i am crazy when i tell them these things only the ones who ride understand. i leave in a few days for vacation and i have a motorcycle trip planned out while i am home.  :)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Lawn Dart on July 10, 2011, 11:38:53 am
(http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j288/rnovielli/DSCN0734.jpg)

Friendship is...

It was supposed to be just a normal, easy going breakfast ride.  No railing, just a chance for some old friends to get together and hang for a bit, BS each other with new stories, create a few new tall tales and make some plans for the coming months.

Instead I found the back of a Jetta at 25mph and smashed my body quite nicely.  Seven bones broken in ten places meant I wasn't going anywhere.

Greg (1moreroad) put his skills as a volunteer fireman to work, controlling the situation and more important, managing me such that I don't do the wrong thing as a mashed up patient.

Friendship is...sacrificing the rest of your day for the comfort of an ailing friend.  Greg, I owe you one.  Hopefully I can repay it some other way than with a crash!   :bigok:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Mr.Black on July 10, 2011, 08:34:23 pm

(http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j288/rnovielli/DSCN0734.jpg)

Friendship is...

It was supposed to be just a normal, easy going breakfast ride.  No railing, just a chance for some old friends to get together and hang for a bit, BS each other with new stories, create a few new tall tales and make some plans for the coming months.

Instead I found the back of a Jetta at 25mph and smashed my body quite nicely.  Seven bones broken in ten places meant I wasn't going anywhere.

Greg (1moreroad) put his skills as a volunteer fireman to work, controlling the situation and more important, managing me such that I don't do the wrong thing as a mashed up patient.

Friendship is...sacrificing the rest of your day for the comfort of an ailing friend.  Greg, I owe you one.  Hopefully I can repay it some other way than with a crash!   :bigok:



/thread


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: MK96xj on July 10, 2011, 08:48:30 pm
 :beerchug: Greg is a good Man.


(http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j288/rnovielli/DSCN0734.jpg)

Friendship is...

It was supposed to be just a normal, easy going breakfast ride.  No railing, just a chance for some old friends to get together and hang for a bit, BS each other with new stories, create a few new tall tales and make some plans for the coming months.

Instead I found the back of a Jetta at 25mph and smashed my body quite nicely.  Seven bones broken in ten places meant I wasn't going anywhere.

Greg (1moreroad) put his skills as a volunteer fireman to work, controlling the situation and more important, managing me such that I don't do the wrong thing as a mashed up patient.

Friendship is...sacrificing the rest of your day for the comfort of an ailing friend.  Greg, I owe you one.  Hopefully I can repay it some other way than with a crash!   :bigok:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: JonS on July 11, 2011, 07:48:51 am
Last October, it was time for me to go on a trip and I left for CA, early in the morning. After a long day riding, I stopped in Congress, AZ for the night. The motel was from the 40s or 50s, but it was very well cared for. I love these small towns in the desert and took a couple of photos. WHen I returned home, 10 days later, after an very eventful trip to find that my camera or card :headscratch: had not been taking the images. Most shots didn't work and the ones that had a picture were. With no pictures, I didn't do a ride report. :( Here is the motel from the first night.

(http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y25/jons/IMG_0384.jpg?t=1310384191)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: XLR8 on July 12, 2011, 12:58:03 am
One of the best threads on ST.N  :thumbsup:

I always like this picture because it represents the end of a perfect day of riding. Here we have friends sharing stories from the N. Cascades Hwy and very essence of motorcycling, including topics like:
Why did Ol Rocket ditch us in Winthrop? Did you check out Greench440's Garage Mahal? Dude, where's my oil? Why are there no rooms in this town? There are always rooms in this town. I didn't know you had to pay a registration fee to come in the park. Do you know why I am pulling you over? Are you packing a firearm? You should tell us if you are packing a firearm. Are you sure you aren't packing a firearm? I wasn't packing a firearm.

This of course is Grand Coulee Damn and it is magnificent. The nameplate generation capacity is 6,809 megawatts! For whatever reason on this August evening, we almost had the entire place to ourselves.

(http://enzo.zenfolio.com/img/v2/p119476541-4.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: brockep on August 06, 2011, 11:45:08 am
At the top of the Beartooth Pass during this years trip to Montana and Glacier National Park.  I was traveling light this day as I had left most of the gear at the hotel in Billings.  This trip was at the end of July during the heat wave that went across the country.  It was nice to be up on the Pass with 50 degree temps after several 90-100 degree days.

I went to Cooke City and then back to Billings just in time for dinner.

(http://i937.photobucket.com/albums/ad219/brockep/Glacier_2011/DSC01916.jpg)



Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: miles on August 08, 2011, 11:26:40 am
(http://75.80.141.205/~milestodd/SethWins.JPG)


DagoR6, Atypical1 and I planned a ride for yesterday morning, but Atyp bailed on us, so it wound up being just Dago and I.

I was exceedingly jazzed to be out, since I had just gotten my S1000RR back after loaning it away for almost 18 months (See the 'Great Start' thread in Pit Row for more details).  Its conversion back to street bike was completed on friday, but I had too much to do to get the bike out before sunday morning.  Anyhow, for me this was essentially a new bike.  I'd only ridden it on the street one time, the day I got it.  I did a 600 mile ride to break it in, then handed it over to the race team.  I'd ridden it a handful of times on the track, but that's a different animal.

The ride had its exciting moments from the start.  As I was tooling my way up the freeway, rolling along with traffic at around 80 mph, I went to look back behind me, taking my left hand off the bar to put it on my hip.  Leaning back a little as I looked back behind me, I accidentally gave the bike a little throttle.  As the bike surged forward, I got tossed back, yanking a bit more throttle. The resulting power wheelie got my attention, and my left hand flew back to the bar with lightning speed, I can assure you.  When I got to the meeting point, I switched the bike's power and TC mode from "slick" (as in race tires) to "sport", for wheelie control and softer power delivery.  After all, a 200 rwhp super bike motor can be a handful in the tight stuff...

Anyhow, Dago showed up a few minutes later sporting a set of racing slicks on his GSXR 1000.  "They're feeling a little sketch" he said.  "I think they have too match air pressure."  We tiptoed through Highland Valley Road, a very technical and tight chunk of goodness, then stopped at a gas station in Ramona to fuel up and check his tire pressure.
"I think the gauge on the pump isn't working," Dago said.  "It reads 60 psi."
We went across the street to the auto parts place and bought two different piece of junk pencil gauges (to compare them against each other).  As it turns out, the gas station air pump gauge was reasonably accurate.  Dago's front had 55 psi and the rear was at 60 psi warm.
We shot a quick video of Dago checking the air pressure and the gauge shooting out to it's full length, then let out a lot of air- down to 25 psi red and 30 front.

Dago felt a whole lot better about the way the bike handled after that.  We took turns leading and our speeds were pretty good.  On the wooded section of Mesa Grande, Dago was about half a turn ahead of me (It is very, very tight through there) and when I came around a turn, I saw his bike skidding to a stop with him under it.  I parked, then rushed over to get his leg out from under the bike.  His knee was squashed pretty well, but he saved some damage to the bike!

It turns out he had tipped into the turn (A very sharp left hander) at about 25 mph (which is about as fast as you'd really ever want to go) and ran over a squirrel at high lean.  His front stepped out and he lowsided.  

Thankfully, the bike was still functional, so we resumed our ride.  We hit Palomar, then Rice Canyon and De Luz up to lunch at Texas Lil's in Temecula.  After that, we hit the slab and headed home.  A great day of riding marred by one suicidal rodent.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: stromgal on August 08, 2011, 05:41:23 pm
Oy!  If he'd had Anakees on that thing he woulda rolled right through the nutlover....  :D  

Glad he's okay.   I was gonna post a pic but the above deserves some time/space.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: kevin_stevens on August 09, 2011, 01:06:04 am
I squished a ground squirrel (ok, not ground, just flattened) on Old Julian awhile back.

So the throttle response in Slick mode got you to dial it back TWO clicks to Sport?  What happened to Race?

KeS


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: miles on August 09, 2011, 01:11:58 am
It was the wheelie control I wanted, more than the throttle softening.  And the TC.  I wanted all the help I could get until I got used to the bike.



Title: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: MisterSmooth on August 10, 2011, 08:07:03 pm

(http://enzo.zenfolio.com/img/v2/p119476541-4.jpg)




This is one of my all time favorite STN photos.   :cool:

There's something essential and beautiful about the composition of the bikes and riders, the majesty of the dam, the quality of the light.  It was my wallpaper for a while.   :thumbsup: :thumbsup:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Kootenanny on August 11, 2011, 12:07:04 am
I just found this thread.

Here I am, circa 1983:

(http://photoshare.shaw.ca/image/b/d/2/54398/closeup1983-0.jpg?rev=0)

I was 22 years old, and had just returned from a week-long trip--my first extended trip (and the only long trip I took until many years later).  To this day, I can recall many elements of that trip...for example, riding Hwy 6 up the Slocan Valley, when part of the road was only a single lane clinging to the side of a cliff...

And yes, I wore a FF helmet even back then...gotta like the leather "police" jacket, but it did have thick leather and shoulder/elbow padding...I also owned a pair of proper riding gloves and boots, but as I recall, the pics were an afterthought and I just threw on a pair of work gloves when I went back out for them.

The bike in the pic was my pride and joy, a 1981 Yamaha XJ550 Seca with some mods done by the previous owner (a privateer racer--yes, this had been his race bike).  It was not my first bike or my last, but there was something special about it...


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: MonkeyNuke on August 12, 2011, 04:12:32 pm
(http://i193.photobucket.com/albums/z229/MonkeyNuke/Misc/100_1517.jpg)
A few years ago, My brother Tom and I rode our bikes to our annual family vacation spot.  The plan was simple,  we ride and the women of our lives drive separately.  
We stopped in Vassar Mi. for a little break and some gas.  After socializing with the local patrons, we left about 45 minutes later. We then stopped in Frankenmuth to meet my wife and son for lunch.  Tom soon discovered his wallet was missing. We knew he used it in Vassar, so we headed back retracing our route and scanning the roadway for a lost wallet.
When we returned to the station, we looked all around where we were parked and asked the attendant if a lost wallet was turned in.  No luck.  We then went across the street to a police station to report a lost wallet.  We knocked on the door for several minutes but there was no answer.  We went back to the station to decide our next move.  Tom was in a pickle.  He had a large sum of cash in his wallet along with his credit cards and license.  He decided that he would have to go back home and take care of everything on the coming Monday morning. this is a major disappointment.  But before we leave, we called the police station and left a message about a lost wallet and how to contact the owner.  With that done, we moved to get our helmets on and it started to rain HARD.  So we waited about 30 minutes for the rain to let up.  Just as we were about to leave for good, a police cruiser pulled into the gas station.
The officer gets out of his cruiser and hands over the lost wallet to Tom.  As it turns out, a friend of the officer found the wallet in the parking lot of the gas station.  Since he knew his friend was on duty,  he called him and turned in the wallet.  The Officer was the only person on duty that day.  He just got done with some polic.e business and called his office to check the voice mail. That whe he got the message that the owner of the wallet was still around
All the money was there and Tom left a reward for the finder of the wallet

This is a story of a good cop doing the right thing for a good person with a good ending.

 Praise the Lord!


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: miles on August 14, 2011, 09:54:30 pm
Sorry for the crappy low-light iPhone pic.  I'd planned on bringing a good camera along for this ride, but couldn't figure out how to rig a tank bag in time.

This is the bottom of Nine Mile Road and Highway 395, east of the Sierras, north of the Mojave desert.

(http://75.80.141.205/~milestodd/395.jpg)

VifferVern and I got out for a ride yesterday- a good, long one.  I left my house at 5:00 am, and returned at 1:30 am the next morning.  Besides a few gas, photo and fast food stops, the rest of the 21 1/2 hours was saddle time.
Our pace was so slow (I only did 750 miles) because we rode over Portugese Pass and Sherman Pass at the southern end of the Sierras, both of which were absolutely covered in dirt and loose pea gravel.  It's hard to maintain a high rate of speed when cornering is an iffy proposition!  Seriously, it was really sketchy.  At one point we took a six mile shortcut on a loose gravel road, made all the more fun by its steepness and tons of switchbacks.

Anyhow, the photo was at the end of the fun stuff.  From this point it was 250 miles of slab for me to get back home.

Ah, the price we pay.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Lawn Dart on August 14, 2011, 11:18:45 pm
750 miles and a 1:30am arrival time at home...   :lol:

So glad some things haven't changed!   :bigok:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: miles on August 14, 2011, 11:30:04 pm

750 miles and a 1:30am arrival time at home...   :lol:

So glad some things haven't changed!   :bigok:



It was a nice day ride.



Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Major 662 on August 15, 2011, 12:30:45 am

Sorry for the crappy low-light iPhone pic.  I'd planned on bringing a good camera along for this ride, but couldn't figure out how to rig a tank bag in time.

(http://75.80.141.205/~milestodd/395.jpg)


Hey, nowadays we pay $3 for an iPhone/Android app that'll yield a pic like that.  Move the Grainy Effect slider to *here* and the Side Blur slider to *here* and voila...


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: miles on August 15, 2011, 12:43:41 am
I just got this new iPhone and the camera is crap.  The photos are all blurry and smeary.  My old iPhone took much better pictures- I may need to send this one back and have it fixed.

Here's an undoctored photo taken with the iPhone:

(http://75.80.141.205/~milestodd/blurrybike.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Mr.Black on August 15, 2011, 05:38:22 am

I just got this new iPhone and the camera is crap.  The photos are all blurry and smeary.  My old iPhone took much better pictures- I may need to send this one back and have it fixed.

Here's an undoctored photo taken with the iPhone:

(http://75.80.141.205/~milestodd/blurrybike.jpg)

That was a crappy story.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: miles on August 15, 2011, 10:37:11 am


That was a crappy story.



Yes, it was.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: JimWilliamson on January 05, 2012, 11:47:40 pm
.bump.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Lawn Dart on January 09, 2012, 10:39:04 pm
(http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j288/rnovielli/photo-1.jpg)

So...this is a bittersweet day.  January 9th, 2012.  I just waived goodbye to an old friend that never did me wrong.  I never quite got along with him, but he always brought me home, took me on adventures, always had gas when others ran out (Ken...Miles...random Harley guy on the road).  Took me on my 50cc...brought me to Prudhoe Bay and back.

For the past 8 years a BMW Boxer has graced my garage.  It was at first my beloved R1100RSL.  She was replaced by the R1200GS - not for reasons I wanted but out of time-driven desperation.  I love the boxer motor - easy to work on, reliable, a strangely comforting bike.  I always knew what to expect...  

My Wife isn't up to riding 2up these days...and with the sale of the GS I don't have a 2up bike in the garage anymore.  This is a very, very big deal.  I...I'm not prepared for not riding 2 up...  

It's the end of an era.  Trina and I used to burn up sport-riders, chase down wannabe squids...show people that BMW's aren't "old-fart bikes".  Gawd, we loved that bike, the R1100RSL that is.  The R12GS - it had shoes to fill that it never could...but it took me places the RSL never could.

It's not the R12GS I miss...it's the memories of riding 2up that mean the most.  My Beloved wife is next to me now...the dogs are chewing on squeaky toys...Marco's thrashing one of them about right now and Audrey really couldn't be bothered by anything except food and the occasional scratch behind the ear.

And my garage is empty.  Devoid of life.  No Soul.  Perhaps.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Except for that Italian Mistress in the corner demanding some sort of attention.  

For the first time in 12 years I've only thought of myself when it comes to riding.

It's truly a new era.  A new day dawning.

I ride.  

Alone.

Solo.  

But not without Friends.



Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: stromgal on January 09, 2012, 11:24:00 pm
  :newcry:

:clap:

:banana:

 :burnout:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: CMS_Sprint on January 12, 2012, 07:11:46 am
(http://a5.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-ash1/v360/124/94/762724495/n762724495_894833_3482.jpg)

It's a few years old, but this shot has been my desktop image since I took it. I was out on a solo ride in NC/TN mountains for 4 days. I was completely used up at work and just needed to get away. Rode from Daytona to Franklin NC in a day and then spent 3 days just cruising around the area and enjoying the view from inside a helmet. Fond memories of a great trip for sure.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: bassjones on January 14, 2012, 08:18:20 am
(http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o6/bassjones/IMG_0006.jpg)

My kid brother with his new (to him) old school Connie. I had just ridden it home for him in the rain from the Northwest Chicago burbs to Lafayette, IN because he hadn't ridden much and the thought of riding in Chicago traffic was pretty scary, especially with the rain. We had some grand adventures planned, the two of us... And then, his wife split, and he lost his shirt in the divorce and had to sell the bike that next Spring... And he won't be affording another anytime soon.  I have a dream of doing a MC trip with my dad and brother some time before dad gets too old to do it, but dad and the kid don't have bikes right now and I'm not sure dad ever will again.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Atitalongtime on January 14, 2012, 02:14:39 pm
Met a bunch of old dirt bike enduro buddies mat in Broken Bow OK for a 3 day Ozarks tour.
At dinner before the start a friend brought a friend who was boasting about how fast his new FJR was.
He had just moved up from a slower bike, I don't remember what, and had that "I'm the King of the World" attitude.
His friend, and a few others in the group, told him to just tale it easy and take his time in the mountains before charging off.
The next morning, route sheets were distributed (enduro riders remember) the dozen riders headed northeast into the hills.
The road began with mikes of 50mph indicated sweepers that were taken at the speed limit plus 5 or 10, so not agressive at all.
We came to the first hard left turn, marked at 20mph, giant sign, flashing yellow lights, rumble strips across the lane... everything.
The FJR guy had jumped to the front of the group, behind the leader on another FJR, I had the ringside seat right behind.
The leader rolled into the sharp bend at a conservative 40mph of so, new boy leans in a bit and starts moving wider and wider.
I thought at first he was pulling off for a  scenic overlook or something... but no, he took it all the way to the concrete retaining wall and ate it!
Target Fixation Maxamus.
Here we are at the start of a 1200 mile 3 day event... looking down at a broken collarbone, road rashed big mouth (he didn't have his jacket zipped so he slid half out of it) and a totaled bike with 2k on the clock.
Being old enduro riders, we did the right thing, got his butt in an ambulance, bike on a hook, called his wife in Houston with the news and his hospital destination... and continued on for a fantastic, uneventful, totally cool, Arkansas 2-lane tour.

 


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: hovmaven on January 14, 2012, 04:31:59 pm
at least the luggage looks fine.   ;)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: stromgal on January 14, 2012, 06:42:50 pm
Faaaaaaack..... at least he lived to learn.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: mxvet57 on January 14, 2012, 09:45:27 pm

Met a bunch of old dirt bike enduro buddies mat in Broken Bow OK for a 3 day Ozarks tour.
At dinner before the start a friend brought a friend who was boasting about how fast his new FJR was.
He had just moved up from a slower bike, I don't remember what, and had that "I'm the King of the World" attitude.
His friend, and a few others in the group, told him to just tale it easy and take his time in the mountains before charging off.
The next morning, route sheets were distributed (enduro riders remember) the dozen riders headed northeast into the hills.
The road began with mikes of 50mph indicated sweepers that were taken at the speed limit plus 5 or 10, so not agressive at all.
We came to the first hard left turn, marked at 20mph, giant sign, flashing yellow lights, rumble strips across the lane... everything.
The FJR guy had jumped to the front of the group, behind the leader on another FJR, I had the ringside seat right behind.
The leader rolled into the sharp bend at a conservative 40mph of so, new boy leans in a bit and starts moving wider and wider.
I thought at first he was pulling off for a  scenic overlook or something... but no, he took it all the way to the concrete retaining wall and ate it!
Target Fixation Maxamus.
Here we are at the start of a 1200 mile 3 day event... looking down at a broken collarbone, road rashed big mouth (he didn't have his jacket zipped so he slid half out of it) and a totaled bike with 2k on the clock.
Being old enduro riders, we did the right thing, got his butt in an ambulance, bike on a hook, called his wife in Houston with the news and his hospital destination... and continued on for a fantastic, uneventful, totally cool, Arkansas 2-lane tour.

 



Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Atitalongtime on January 15, 2012, 12:15:14 pm
Yep... same event
Here's the "before shot" at the hotel...


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Head on January 18, 2012, 12:14:54 pm
 2009.  Seems like ages ago.  I had just got back in touch with an old friend after a 15 year blank spot. It involved me moving and him moving unexpectedly the same week.  Fast forward and the magic of Facebook and a few other coincidences we meet up again when we went to visit another friend in PA.  This was in April.  In May was my long lost friend's 30th birthday.
 
 At the time my wife was 8 months pregnant with our second lil' red headed deamon.  Love her like crazy.  I had plans at the time to go down to the Dragon the first week in May with a riding buddy from downstate MI.  That fell through when he was invited to go do a track day at a newly opened facility somewhere I don't recall.  So I now had an open window on the exact week of my friends 30th.
 
 The wife said do it.  1200 miles one way from Copper Harbor, MI to Tobyhanna, PA.  The first of May I left at 6am.  It was 28 outside.  My balls still wonder why I didn't put on another pair of pants.  The picture is me just south of the Mighty Mac a little after noon that first day, I had taken my time hitting all the best I could in the UP that wasn't to far out of the way.  Pure fu&^ing bliss.

 It was my first and best trip yet of my riding life.  Excitement, nostalgia, exploring, near death 18 wheeler merges, stupid nuts PA, OH, MI drivers, boring interstate drones, old friends and good times.

I need another.

(http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c393/Green_Head/IMAG0032.jpg)
 


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: PatM on January 22, 2012, 02:08:28 pm
July 2006. I had been assigned to a Powerpoint droning session AKA product training event in Leesburgh, VA by my boss.
Instead of flying in to DC as I normally would do, I opted to ride. This would be my first long distance ride since I'd got back on a bike.
My trip was to get me across the border in NY State near Malone, down the Adirondaks, then into PA and finally in VA.
The plan was to take back roads, avoid cities and traffic. I had a few maps and a MS S&T strips to guide me.

The first day went without any hitch. I was mild and cloudy but fortunately no rain. I rode US11 across the top of NY State then down 812 and US12 to Binghampton. By that time, it was getting late, I stopped and stayed in a cheap motel for the night. There was a group of bikers staying there so it couldn't be a bad place, right? Well the place had been flooded the weeks before and I had to drink water from a jug as there was no running water.

In the morning, I woke up early, around five, and decided since I couldn't have a shower, to make it an early day on the road.
Outside there was heavy fog. I left around six, to ride for a while before having breakfast.
It's no fun riding in thick fog. I stopped somewhere along US Route 12, at a rest area where I took this picture.

(http://inlinethumb40.webshots.com/50599/2465642060085843885S600x600Q85.jpg)

I waited for a while to let the fog lift then rode in perfect sunny weather the rest of the way to my meeting.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: BentAero on January 31, 2012, 11:19:00 pm
In the summer of 2009, my pal Louis and I rode our bikes from western NC to western Wyoming, his first-ever 'big trip' on a bike. Believing you can't see America from the freeway, I insisted that we make as much of trip as possible via two-lane.

We rode across the nation as planned, came into SW Colorado, then worked a very non-direct route up to SW Wyoming for our Mission Project. When the project was completed, Louis said he wanted to go straight home and was going to ride the freeway. "See you back in North Carolina" was my response. He went east, and I went south into Utah. The shot below is just after sun-up on Hwy 191 in NE Utah.

I headed for Grand Junction, CO, then down CO 141/145 to Ridgway, then down US 550 to Durango, then finally east to Pagosa Springs for the night.

The next day on to Taos, NM, then across the Texas panhandle and Oklahoma to the twisteez of NW Arkansas. Finally finishing up by crossing the Cherohalla Skyway on the way to the house.

I got home a day before Louis did.  :sleepy:

(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r61/BentAero/Wyoming-Colorado%202009/123.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Kneescrubber on February 04, 2012, 04:41:25 pm
I first met Mike when I moved back to Dallas from Austin in '97. He was an original employee at the company I went to work for dating back to the mid '70s. At the time I owned 3 bikes. A 1983 BMW R80ST, 1986 BMW K100 & 1982 Honda XR500 (bought new). I rode to work most of the time and he would comment about my BMWs and tell me about his 1985 BMW K100RS (bought new), but he never rode it to work. Since he worked in another building and his building had "the coffee pot" we would have discussions about different bikes, good places to ride, past experiences...but I still never saw the bike. I was beginning to have doubts about whether he actually had a bike at all and told him so. Finally after several months he invited me over to his house to see his bike. Sure enough, he had the bike, and it ran. But it never left the garage.  :headscratch:  WTF Mike, let's go ride! "Naw, the bike needs this or the bike needs that" were his typical responses. Well, I guess after more than a year of me goading him and talking about my weekend trips out to wherever was close enough, he finally committed some time and money to getting his bike into "roadworthy condition". He's a perfectionist to a fault.

From that point on Mike and I were gone at least every other weekend. Hill Country (my old stomping grounds) or Arkansas (his) and even a couple of trips to New Mexico/Colorado; for the next 10 years Mike and I were riding buddies. One of our favorite day rides would be to Mena for lunch and back. Riding the length of the Talimena Byway there and back. Our favorite place to stop was also the place we'd camp for weekend trips. Winding Stair Mountain campground. The view is awesome and it's an unimproved campground so there's very little traffic and even fewer campers in it.

This pic was taken in late April '07. Probably one of our first warm rides of the new year.


(http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f361/pak714/windingstair.jpg)



Since I moved to Amarillo I've been really missing Mike. We talk and email but haven't ridden together for 3 years. And Mike seems to have gone back to letting the back sit in the garage.  :(


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: JonS on February 07, 2012, 10:43:01 am
For the last few years that I lived in the Seattle area, I made it a point to ride the North Cascade Highway, from Arlington, in the west, to Winthrop, in the eastern side as often as I could. This is a picture of the last time I managed to take the ride before we moved to Utah. A round trip is a great way to spend a day. This was soon after the pass was opened and during the week, so the traffic was very light. It's a beautiful, flowing road with an abundance of great views. I hope someday I will be able to do it again. :inlove:

This photo is just after Washington Pass, heading East.
(http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y25/jons/IMG_0432.jpg?t=1328628198)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: bungie4 on February 07, 2012, 01:17:15 pm

For the last few years that I lived in the Seattle area, I made it a point to ride the North Cascade Highway, from Arlington, in the west, to Winthrop, in the eastern side as often as I could.


 :thumbsup: :thumbsup:

One of my all time favourite scenic rides. Especially around Diablo Lake.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: miles on March 04, 2012, 11:46:23 pm
(http://75.80.141.205/~milestodd/Robert1.jpg)


Lawn Dart and I went for a ride yesterday, and saw some really pretty scenery and some very, very empty roads (In fact, we rode The Loneliest Road In America™).  This photo was taken a few miles south of Caliente, NV, which is a lovely little town in the exact center of BFE.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Bad Dad on March 06, 2012, 10:06:13 am
       First day riding in Colorado, knee down south of Ouray. We were limited on time so we trailered the bikes out :rolleyes: We were going to drive in shifts but I ended up soloing the drive to the tune of 1520 miles from home to Ridgeway state park:crazy: Totally worth it!!    (http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o117/Hinterlan/IMG_0504.jpg)  


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Cafe Racer on March 15, 2012, 02:19:13 pm
I see this image daily.  And each time it brings a feeling so strong.  And on those rare occasions, an intense feeling of anticipation.  I know that when I see this image, I am going to experience something magical.

Just me and my moto.

As the key is inserted and turned, the familiar electronic chirp... the translucent glow of the LCD... This very moment of calm which lasts a mere few seconds, stirs my physical being into a restrained emotional frenzy.  I feel it in my chest as it rounds under my arms and towards my back.  Others refer to it as a "chill".

But I don't shiver.   I gently slow my breathe and press the ignition.  

Miguel


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Lawn Dart on December 28, 2012, 01:58:10 am
December 27th, 2012.  I played a bit of Christmas Hookey...

Or, maybe I gave myself a great little present?

I took today off and decided to run out to the BIG Sweepers of Palms to Pines.  This would be somewhat risky...it's been raining of late and that during the winter would mean snow and potentially ice.  I opted to take a late start in the name of safety and didn't thumb the starter until nearly 9:30am.

Every now and again there is that one moment in a ride where pulling over to take a picture is just the right thing to do.  Today my camera came out only once...

(http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j288/rnovielli/IMG_2615_zps40aa7052.jpg)

The roads were clear of debris...clean and theoretically fast.  'Cept it was about 40 degrees.  At 11am.

I kept wishing my e-Vest went to 11...

I barely cleared 250 miles but it was worth every cold minute.  Life is good.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Orson on February 03, 2013, 08:03:24 am
In all my journeys, I am always on the lookout for the Holy Grail. That one road somewhere out there that might surpass the majestic ribbon of road known as California's Highway 1. Some have come close. The Adriatic coast road in Croatia. Highway 17 in Norway. The road along False Bay in South Africa or the magnificent ride along the western coast of New Zealand's South Island.

Then in 2011, I happened along a road in southern Italy that I hadn't previously heard about. The stretch between Sapri and Praia a Mare, known as the Strada Statale 18. Right where the boot of Italy turns towards the toe, I happened upon a fantastic ride. For almost 20 glorious miles, the scenery is every bit as dramatic as Big Sur. Sadly, in contrast to the endless nirvana that is Highway 1, this stretch ends all too quickly.

(http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b173/Orsoni/L1000663.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: owrstrich on April 03, 2013, 11:34:37 am
once upon a time in the recent past there was an experiment in motodebauchery (http://www.pashnit.com/forum/showthread.php?t=33328)... lumbering cruisers piloted by lifestyle riders no show after waiting 15 minutes at lockwood from the phone booth.. no show after waiting 60 minutes at the mckittrick market... well they did show at 61 minutes but we were rolling... and only after catching up with a 12 moto group stopped on rossis driveway for group photos...

i present to you a photo recollection of what happens when a lifestyle rider pilots a lumbering cruiser at 1/2 of the posted speed limit on the pozo loop (https://maps.google.com/maps?saddr=Parkhill+Rd&daddr=35.310641,-120.357638+to:CA-58+E%2FCalf+Canyon+Hwy&hl=en&ll=35.348456,-120.433846&spn=0.149816,0.338173&sll=35.352656,-120.261154&sspn=0.299616,0.937958&geocode=FexPHAIdknnQ-A%3BFTHMGgId-nzT-CkT-h8VvYjsgDGjKt3If75yLg%3BFUz_GwIdmRjQ-A&mra=dpe&mrsp=1&sz=11&via=1&t=m&z=12)... turn into a non turn too early and the trajectory puts you off in the turf at the exit of the non turn... we call this lumbering cruiser the motor companies world famous turf king...


(http://i236.photobucket.com/albums/ff192/owrstrich/2013/13-03-16%20Jockos/OldTurfDog_zpsa6e46d0a.jpg)


j o



Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: stew71 on April 03, 2013, 01:21:40 pm
Last week....I was hungry around noon and decided to ride somewhere for lunch.   :bigok:

(http://i537.photobucket.com/albums/ff334/stew71/IMG_20130222_125546_998_zps39d0a60e.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: NitroRoo on April 03, 2013, 03:09:38 pm
Like many in this thread, one of my most memorable rides for me was one where the stress level had reached a melting point, and I decided that I really needed to spend some time on my motorcycle.  It was July 2010, I was living in Lubbock TX at the time.  Any that are familiar with that area know that it's very flat with not much to look at for miles around.  I had heard the mountains of New Mexico were beautiful.  The original plan had been to spend the whole weekend moto camping, but severe stormy weather had dashed my plans.  My wife and kids were out of town that weekend, so time was on my side, but the weather wasn't.  I tried to make the best of Friday and Saturday, but with the bad weather and nobody home, coupled with the fact that I wasn't riding - by the time Sunday rolled around I decided to just say screw it and I took off first thing in the morning.  I had very little plans other than head west and explore.  The bad part: I had to be at work on Monday, so I really only had one day.  I threw a few items in a tail bag and took off.  I made it to the mountains in about 4 hours, and then the rain started.  Just a slow, steady rain that kept my pace down in the curves.  I stopped in Cloudcroft for a bite to eat and the World Cup was on TV.  I enjoyed watching that and cheering on with complete strangers.  After killing a couple hours watching the soccer, it was time to make it back home.  I stopped in Roswell and bought some little bendy aliens for my kids.  Continuing on towards Lubbock the skies were looking very, very angry.  The radar on my phone confirmed several very dark red spots.  With very limited route options and no cover, I was forced to ride through some of the worst rain and wind I've ever encountered on a bike.  I made it into lubbock well after dark, and several streets had up to a foot of water flowing down them.  It was like riding through a fast moving river that was a foot deep.  Pretty wild.  I finally made it home, took a hot shower, and hit the sack with a smile on my face.  It's amazing what a day on the bike will do for your soul.

(http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y207/swimybug/MyBike/Cloudcroft710/IMG_0784.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: cyjo on April 03, 2013, 10:39:57 pm
In 2006 I decided to attend my first STN meet. That year the meet was in Canaan Valley WV where I will be again in a few weeks. This was to be my first solo overnight trip on a bike. I had done plenty of alone day rides and a few long distance rides with a friend but this was my first time going alone. I had a week of adventure planned going from Tampa to WV and back. I started the trip in blistering heat. I slabbed out of Tampa and up through Georgia to the Georgia mountains and a little over 600 miles I was there for the night. The next morning I was still worn out from the humid 100 degree heat from the day before and the mountain air was decidedly cooler. I motored out of town and hit the first of several hundred miles of backroads that would occupy this trip. I admit I was intimidated. I'm from Florida, they don't have curves except for on-ramps and I'm on a way over-loaded bike. After I few miles I calmed down and went through small towns on little roads eventually hitting the dragon. I had picked out a couple of places to see on this trip but mostly I was going to follow my intuition and let fate decide. The picture below is from Cumberland Gap, a place I didn't plan on seeing. I was preparing to camp someplace or another the night before at one of those honor places and just after beginning to set up camp, the ranger pulled through and asked if everything was ok. Sure it is I say. Well he says you know that some bad weather is coming through tonight right? I didn't and I thought well how bad could it be but I looked around and I noticed the only others in the campsite were full on RV's. No tents, no pop-ups. I hit the road and eventually ended up just on the other side of the Cumberland Gap in KY. I found a hotel next door to a southern buffet. That night the weather was so bad, that the power and cable were knocked out most of the night. The next day it was damp and raining and I was not eager to hit the road. So after breakfast, I did suit up and go to the walmart for a few things and then backtracked through Cumberland Gap and decided to visit the park and let the roads dry a bit. I went into what amounts to downtown to look for a gift for my daughter and something struck me about this town. Nothing like what I see on a day to day basis. It's Americana and at it's heart is why I am on this trip, to discover new places and make conversation with the people along the way. The photo is not breathtaking but holds power with me. To the undiscovered  :)

(http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8529/8618428586_0b57185e7b_c.jpg) (http://www.flickr.com/photos/joeyschmitt/8618428586/)
Cumberland Gap, Tennessee (http://www.flickr.com/photos/joeyschmitt/8618428586/) by joeyschmitt (http://www.flickr.com/people/joeyschmitt/), on Flickr


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: vfrrider on April 04, 2013, 10:25:39 am
Found those keys you lost. :facepalm:

Larry
VFRrider


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: cyjo on April 04, 2013, 09:54:46 pm
The mystery finally solved!  :lol:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: miles on April 21, 2013, 10:30:03 pm
Big Jim (james_g) just bought a new bike yesterday, so of course the first place he rode to after leaving  dealership was my place to show it off. Now, I'd been thinking about buying this particular model, so of course I had to drool on his bike for a bit. We made plans for an early morning Sunday ride, since my bike was finally back on the road thanks to a motor transplant.
We met at the start of the twisties at 6 AM, and it was a whole lot colder than I expected for an April morning. Heck, it must have been down in the 60s!

Anyhow, we had a great shakedown ride, including a run up and down Mt Palomar. This is a shot near the top on the fast side at a turn out with an amazing view. This was 7:30 in the morning and facing west with the sun behind us. Off in the distance you can just make out the Pacific Ocean.

(https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/107856943/IMAG0302.jpg)






Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: james_g on April 21, 2013, 10:45:42 pm
 :lol: I was just going to post the same pic Miles. Great shakedown ride for sure.

james


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: miles on April 21, 2013, 11:16:52 pm

 :lol: I was just going to post the same pic Miles. Great shakedown ride for sure.

james


Post anyway!


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: DestinationUnknown on May 03, 2013, 05:26:51 am
 I had seen photos of this place and decided to stop at this overlook if ever in the area. I was close and stopped by while doing a ride of the southwest states recently. I laughed out loud to myself while taking in the epic view.

Muley Point, Utah

(http://i1356.photobucket.com/albums/q731/TravelAmerica2Wheels/DSC03599_zpse8e5bebb.jpg) (http://s1356.photobucket.com/user/TravelAmerica2Wheels/media/DSC03599_zpse8e5bebb.jpg.html)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Lawn Dart on May 03, 2013, 09:58:35 am

 I had seen photos of this place and decided to stop at this overlook if ever in the area. I was close and stopped by while doing a ride of the southwest states recently. I laughed out loud to myself while taking in the epic view.

Muley Point, Utah

(http://i1356.photobucket.com/albums/q731/TravelAmerica2Wheels/DSC03599_zpse8e5bebb.jpg) (http://s1356.photobucket.com/user/TravelAmerica2Wheels/media/DSC03599_zpse8e5bebb.jpg.html)


NICE!


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Orson on July 10, 2014, 04:52:31 am
Team orson headed to Italy with no clear destination in mind. Left Parma heading for the coast where I would find a hotel before deciding whether to head north or south. I had been leaning towards Tuscany however, the weather forecast was calling for a week of blistering hot 90 degree weather so, the decision wuz made for me. The mountain passes of the Maritime Alps might provide some respite from the heat.

I headed north along the Ligurian coast before heading inland at Savona. Entering the picturesque Langhe area of Piedmont, I found a nice hotel nestled among the almond groves. The Langhe area bears a resemblance to Tuscanny with hilltop towns and vineyards except there aren't as many tourists. The hotel clerk handed me a list of about 10 Michelin-starred restaurants within about a 20 km area. The next day, I picked one of the restaurants on the list in the town of Grinzano. On the way, I stopped to take a picture overlooking the town of Rodello. Immediately after taking the picture, the low battery warning light began to flash. D'oh!  :eek: I could have sworn I had fully charged the camera before leaving but, maybe not  :mad2:

Hence, this trip report goes in the One Picture, One Story thread :bluduh:

(http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j231/Orsono/DSC00335_zps9492e792.jpg) (http://s81.photobucket.com/user/Orsono/media/DSC00335_zps9492e792.jpg.html)

After thoroughly enjoying a three hour lunch, I was in no condition to ride much more. I headed back to the hotel and loitered by the pool. I think I rode all of 30 kilometers that day  :o

The next day, I headed towards La France via la Colle della Maddalena. Stopped for lunch near the summit where almost all the customers were bikers. I had a ploughman's lunch of polenta and wild boar. The guy brings out the dessert trolley. I point out the chocolate custard. He takes a scoop of the chocolate custard, cuts off a piece of pie, throws on a dollop of tiramisu and another dollop of creme brûlée. Alora!  :lol: I ended up the day in Briancon.

Given all the squiggly green lines on the Michelin map, I decided to make this my base camp for a few days. The first day, I took in the Col du Galibier and the Col de La Croix de Fer. The high altitudes worked a treat offering cool temperatures compared to the heat in the valleys. On the way back to Briancon, I took a side detour up the infamous Alpe de Huez. Respect for the bicyclist who were riding up the hill as even the mighty Goose seemed to be a bit winded by the climb. Late in the afternoon, thunderstorms appeared and I had to ride the final 60 kilometers in the rain. I had gone from blistering heat to cold rain in a matter of hours.

The following day dawned crisp and blue, promising more high temperatures. I headed towards Grenoble before turning south towards Gap. All marked as green scenic routes on the Michelin map. Passing thru the small town of Corps, I spotted a restaurant with waiters wearing ties. I decided that any place with fancy waiters must have good food so I pulled her over. I wasn't disappointed as I enjoyed a thoroughly delicious lunch with all the trimmings. Heading into Gap, I found all the roads to Briancon blocked for the Criterium du Dauphine bicycle race, the last warm up before the Tour de France kicks off. Nothing to do but pull up and watch the race. I didn't recognize any of the racers although I'm assuming most of the big stars were there. After about 30 minutes, the race convoy had passed and the Gendarmes reopened the roads.

After three days in Briancon, I continued northwards following the Maritime Alps. It would be a thoroughly enjoyable day as I took in three major passes before arriving in Courmayeur, Italy at the foot of Mont Blanc; Col du Mt. Cenis, Col de l'Iseran and Col de Piccolo San Bernardo. The next day I rode the cable car up the mountain and enjoyed the view while having lunch at the top.

From Courmayeur, I headed back towards Parma, riding around Turin and back down thru the Langhe region, down the coast and across the Apennine Mountains to Parma.

Trip Statistics:
Riding Days: 10
Rest Days: 3
Distance: +/- 3000 km
Police Sightings: 0
Deer Sighting: 0
Bee Stings: 0

Route Map:
(http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j231/Orsono/image_map_zps6a5cfd15.gif) (http://s81.photobucket.com/user/Orsono/media/image_map_zps6a5cfd15.gif.html)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: stromgal on July 10, 2014, 11:57:29 am
Oh My!  :inlove:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Scoop on July 20, 2014, 09:00:26 pm

Oh My!  :inlove:


I second that.  What a ride that would be.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: 02Tac on August 25, 2014, 07:38:34 pm
First picture of a day trip through 15 covered bridges (2, including this one, were in Delaware) and Valley Forge.

(http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee34/02TAC/Bandito/Cover%20Bridges%207%20Apr%202012/IMG_4620.jpg) (http://s228.photobucket.com/user/02TAC/media/Bandito/Cover%20Bridges%207%20Apr%202012/IMG_4620.jpg.html)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: bubba zanetti on August 28, 2014, 04:12:40 pm
(http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d1/JimFisher1956/DSC02327_zpsc227fc7d.jpg) (http://s32.photobucket.com/user/JimFisher1956/media/DSC02327_zpsc227fc7d.jpg.html)

Heading into The Palouse country of south west Washington in Sept 2013. Today I was looking for Palouse falls but along the way, I was seeking some isolated roads and the stark but beautiful country that is this part of Washington. After noting many of the signs along the way and repeatedly seeing the word "palouse" I began to read it as appaloosa, like the horse. The pic is one of the many small creek canyons in the area with a great set of corners heading up the other side. Beautiful.

Later, at my motel in Baker City, I looked up Appaloosa and Palouse and low and behold, there is a story of that colorful breed of Mongolian horses originating here. http://www.trueappaloosas.com/palouse_horse.html

Great day of solo riding and a little learning along the way. Gotta love that.  :thumbsup:


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: bubba zanetti on August 28, 2014, 04:28:18 pm
See if we can keep this great thread going  :bigok:

(http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d1/JimFisher1956/DSC00343-1.jpg) (http://s32.photobucket.com/user/JimFisher1956/media/DSC00343-1.jpg.html)

Douglas Lake Ranch near Merritt BC.  Douglas Lake ranch still holds the distinction of Canada's largest working ranch. But notably there is a road open to the public that runs through the ranch and comes out in Falkland BC, just between Vernon and Kamloops or head east to the shores of Okanagan Lake.

Had a great ride through there and stopped to explore some of the abandoned buildings and interesting terrain. Nearby stands the Quilchena Hotel where you can still see bullet holes in the beautiful bar that speaks to the days of outlaw Bill Miner.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: DDFZ1 on August 01, 2015, 01:47:42 am
My older Brother bought his first street Bike in 1966, I got mine in 1971.  We are 4 years apart.  We grew up on a Farm in central Kansas.
He moved to Arkansas in 1978 and I moved to Denver, CO in 1979.
 In 1984, I had 2 motorcycles and convinced him to fly to Denver for a ride (the long way) to Steamboat Springs, CO for the September motorcycle races through town.  He brought all his stuff in a large Tank Bag.  We left Denver in the Fog and drizzle heading west on Interstate 70.  We took the El Rancho exit and drove to Squaw Pass where I took this photo.  We drove to Wolcott thinking we could get a motel there.  I was wrong.  The only building there was a General Store/Post Office. A Gal in the store called to Eagle, CO and found us a motel.  It rained most of the night and the next day.  The Sun finally dried the streets of Steamboat and it was an interesting set of road races.  A rider by the name of Sass won most of the races on a 550 Kawasaki.
I rode the 1982 Seca Turbo and my Brother rode the 750E Kawasaki.
For years my thinking was that 750cc was enough power until I moved to Denver.  You lose an average of 15-20% power above 5000 feet.
The Seca Turbo weighed about 550 lb. and the 750E weighed 500 lb.  No one cared about how much a motorcycle weighed back then.
This was our first motorcycle trip together.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Skee on August 23, 2015, 01:38:56 pm
Snapped this while waiting for the ferry from Villa San Giovanni to Messina; love the kerchief, and the red bag overhanging the bars

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/688/20632322578_7283b3037f_c.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: ducatosh on October 12, 2015, 09:57:30 am
I made a 9 day, 5500km trip to the eastern side of NCal in the 3rd and 4th week of June where I met up with a bunch of fellow Ducati sport tourers(we try to get together every year).  The route down was 4 fairly leisurely days from Nelson to Lake Topaz through Eastern Washington, central Oregon, Western Nevada and into NCal just south of Reno.  On the way back it was through Nevada and back up on OR205 in Eatern OR before heading a bit East and through Central ID finally into Eatern WA.  The image is from Fields, OR, pretty well the middle of nowhere except that Fields Station has the best milkshake I've had in years.  It also helped that it was about 36C!
(http://)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Orson on March 25, 2016, 11:13:08 am
Spring has sprung  :)

With nice weather in the forecast, I decided it was a good time for a shakedown cruise on my new bike. From Asheville to the Cherohala Skyway via Deals Gap and back again can be done in about 8 or 9 hours but, I decided to make it an overnight trip so that I could take my time. I'd driven the route before in a sports car but, it's a lot better on a bike. Traveled light with just a tank bag stuffed with shaving kit, i-Pad and thermal undershirt in case of cooler temps.

Took NC-19 down to Robbinsville under blue skies and 60 degree temps and got a room at the Microtel. Onwards thru Deals Gap then south on TN-360 to connect with the Cherohala Parkway. A mid-week trip ensures light traffic and I make it thru the Gap without encountering any traffic. As others before me have commented, I find the higher speeds on the Parkway make for a more entertaining ride than the tight twists on Deals Gap although both are enjoyable. Even TN-360 was a nice ride. Only 4 cars and 2 bikes encountered on the Parkway and all dispatched without too much hassle. A bit of sand on the road and a bit of snow on the roadside at the highest elevations. Won't be long before it all melts away.

Wake up the next day to overcast skies and cooler temps. Enjoy a waffle breakfast courtesy of the help yourself waffle griddle in the Microtel lobby. Return to Asheville via the Wayah Road to Franklin then, the Ellijay Road to Tuckasegee although a wrong turn sees me arriving in Glenville (sometimes I got lost and had to check the map). No big worry as it's all excellent two lane twisties and I grab a cheeseburger and onion rings at a gas station but, no jukebox on which to play a hillbilly song. After reaching Tuckasegee, I hang a right on NC-281 then take NC-215 back to Asheville.

New bike, great roads, nice weather. I couldn't ask for more.

Blossoms along Highway TN-360

(http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j231/Orsono/L1000719%20copy_zpscnyho14c.jpg) (http://s81.photobucket.com/user/Orsono/media/L1000719%20copy_zpscnyho14c.jpg.html)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: hppants on July 24, 2016, 09:00:01 am
Ok, I'll admit it.  I'm a tree hugger.
 
I have always marveled and wondered at trees.  What a wonderful resource for us!  The uses for trees are endless.  I could hardly cover half of them in 1000 words.  I'm not much of a wood worker or a carpenter.  But I'm certainly appreciative of all that is made with wood, especially well made furniture.  I'm also enamored in old wooden structures, and thoroughly enjoy looking at their architecture and construction.  Back in the day, carpentry was quite a skill, done by people with very primitive tools and limited resources.  Things were built to last - and last they most certainly did.
 
However, I think I enjoy live trees far more than dead ones.  There is such a diversity of trees in our land that I can hardly understand how mother nature finds room for all of them.  I have often wondered about what makes a particular tree grow (or not grow) at a particular place.  I know that climate, soil conditions, and other scientific factors must play into this.  But sometimes when I'm in the right state of mind, I think that the statistical odds of all of this just falling into place are astronomical.  Surely to some extent, there must be a divine intervention at work here.
 
I love eating seasonal ripe fruits and picking it from a tree is a blessing beyond my words.  Once my wife and I drove though the Sacramento Valley during harvest season and she got so frustrated from me stopping at EVERY road side fruit stand I could find, just to purchase 1 or 2 individual fruits and eat them right on the spot.  Of course, that was accompanied with 10 minutes of wonderful conversation with the orchard owner, glued to his or her every word like a 5 year old at story time.
 
With respect to riding, trees inevitably play a part in my adventures.  I look forward every Fall to some kind of leaf peeping ride, where I hope to witness the initial drying of leaves within some kind of hardwood forest.  In 2013, some friends and I spent a week in the Appalachians during the peak of color and it was truly amazing.  Every shade on the pyramid between brown and green was represented in an oversized palette that can only be described as spiritual.  I spent 30 minutes sitting on top of Grandfather Mountain on the Blue Ridge Parkway completely immersed in the landscape beneath me.  In early October 2015, I rode through western Colorado during the peak of the Aspen change.  In my 50 years, I'd never seen such a golden landscape.  There is no picture that can do this justice.  No lens possess enough depth of field to capture the beauty of a peaceful forest in season. No, you honestly have to see this to believe it.
 
Trees have a part in my riding bucket list.  For example, to date, I have never seen a Walnut tree.  This is something that I hope to rectify soon.  Also in my future is a ride to north Georgia during the apple harvesting season.  I'm told there are hundreds of varieties there, and I hope to try as many as I can.
 
At home here in Louisiana, we have our own varieties of beautiful trees.  Our swamps support Cypress, Tupelo, and Willow trees.  These species grow and thrive while submerged in water.  In the central part of the State, pecan trees are prevalent.  The produce nuts every other year, as I assume the energy to do this is taxing to the overall health of the tree.  There are many kinds of pecans, but I particularly enjoy eating the short, fat, oily ones.  They kind of taste like butter.  And butter is good, any way you can get it.
 
But by far, my favorite tree is the majestic Live Oak.  A relatively short species, this variety is not good for lumber.  No, the Live Oak was given to us for shade.  It can grow incredibly large, with its leaf canopy spanning well over a hundred feet.  Spanish moss clings to it like a magnet, providing even more shade on a hot summer day.  The live oak sheds its leaves in March, and even so, only sheds a small portion of them.  Thus, it maintains a leafy branch all year round, perhaps giving some credence to its name - it looks "live" all of the time.
 
But for me, the Live Oak tree means so much more.  It can live to be over 300 years old.  Nothing gets that old without adapting to its environment VERY well.  A closer examination of the Live Oak's structure tells volumes about this.  The trunk twist as it grows, lending more leverage and structural support to the heaviest of branches.  The large branches are quite flexible for their massive weight.  They have adapted to survive our strongest hurricanes, with winds of 100 mph or higher.  In storms, these branches bend, lean, and give to avoid snapping and breaking.  I find this fascinating.  In my own life, I try to learn from the Live Oak's example.  When conflict finds me, especially when it's uncompromising, I get through it best when I lean a little.  Bend a little to avoid "snapping".  Looking at these beautiful trees reminds me of this lesson, and I am very grateful for it indeed.
 
Hwy 3000 near Ramah, Louisiana.  Enjoying some shade among a 250 year old Live Oak Tree.
 
(http://i1281.photobucket.com/albums/a511/hppants1/One%20Picture%20Report%20Shots/Joey%20Pons%20Swamp%20People%2011_zpsbz1myque.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: hppants on July 24, 2016, 09:01:45 am
July 2016

Every heard somebody say “I’m about to come uncorked”?  I liken that to a champagne bottle.  The contents are under extreme pressure, begging to be let out.  The wrapper is removed, followed by the wire tie.  At this point, something has got to give.  As the cork is wiggled, the contents start the path of least resistance.  Finally, the cork flies and immediately thereafter is the explosion.  As fast as it starts, it’s over and things return to some sense of normalcy.

It’s been one of those kind of weeks.  My Assistant Director and right hand man was on vacation.  Everybody deserves a vacation, but when your stable only has a few horses, everyone counts.  From the word go on Monday and through the end of the week, I was running like a headless chicken, putting out proverbial fires left and right.   At times, it seemed like a blur.  My A/D earns his money, that much I was re-assured this week.

Of course, the usual vocational B.S. doesn’t stop either.  Weekly meetings, deadlines, reports, phone calls, an endless electronic sea of emails, and just about anything else you can think of.  At one relatively large gathering of colleagues, I’m struggling to keep my shit together.  My phone is blowing up, I haven’t had lunch yet, and this guy is foaming at the mouth and for the love of Pete, he simply will not stop his dribbling vomit.  I faked a phone call, excused myself, and by the grace of the all mighty, saved myself from going postal.

Needless to say, when the whistle blew on Friday, there was no rest for the weary.  Down here on the Gulf Coast, at this time of year, the yard work will not relent.  The grass needs cutting and the beds weeding.  In an act of total stupidity, earlier in the week, I told SWMBO that I would help clean the house this weekend.  We did a little horse trading and even a round of “rock, paper, scissors” to divvy up the chores.  I got bathrooms and the floors.  Could be worse, I guess.

I get home Friday and start inside, before moving out to the sauna to cut the grass and clean up the yard.  Two hours later, I’m sweating like a hooker in church.  No joke – I could not be more wet if I jumped in a swimming pool with my clothes on.  I turn the box fan on in my shop and sit down next to the FJR with a cool glass of water.  The fan is blowing against my stinky wet torso and providing a little evaporative cooling in the humid shop.  I look over toward my bike and I’m thinking “Boy, I’d sure like to go for a ride tomorrow”.

About then, the skies unzipped and a heavy summer shower dumps on top of me.  In 5 minutes, the temperature dropped 20 degrees and it felt like Mother Nature turned on the air conditioner.  I took my shirt, socks, and shoes off, and stood in the driveway like a little country boy, cooling off in the cool rain.

Refreshed, I toweled off in the carport and walked into the house with one word clearly on my mind – BEER.  I grabbed a cold one and mosied to the bathroom.  As I reflected back on my week, I remember thinking “well, at least it’s over.  I’ve got the rest of the weekend to play, to do whatever I want!!”

Not so fast, Pants.

Out of the shower, I grabbed another cold brew and moved toward the office to sit down at the computer and relax.  SWMBO comes into the office and politely declares that we are double dating with my sister and her husband.  We are going out to eat and then walk next door to a small bar that has team trivia.  Oh joy, just what I friggin need.  I’m not totally shocked.  She did mention something about this earlier in the week.  I just hadn’t heard much in the last day (or perhaps I wasn’t paying much attention), and I figured it fell through.  I love my sis and BIL, and they are great company on a double date.  
It’s just I was so looking forward to about 3 more brewskies and some snacks, followed by a simple quiet meal and maybe some boob tube.  Besides – I hate trivia games.  I don’t remember any of that crap.

Oh well, no point in sucking my thumb.  What’s done is done.  I put a shirt on and some sandals and of we go.  We had a great time.  Food was delicious, and I tried a couple of new beers at the trivia bar.  Our team (Tequilla Mockingbird) did pretty good, even though it was obvious we were sitting in a crowd of intellectuals.  I even contributed; getting two questions correct for our team the others had no clue about (German word for light beer that also means Grocery Store – Lager, Where is the rock group ABBA from – Sweden).

By the time we got home, I was pretty tired and had mostly written off the ride for tomorrow.  I figured I would wake up whenever I felt rested, and whatever happens after that we will just have to see.

This morning, I’m woken up about 5:30 am rested and hearing a different kind of bird peeping on the back patio in the daybreak light.  The nest of 3 cardinal eggs have hatched during the night and the momma is peeping at her triplets.  I made some coffee and watched them in the low light for a few minutes.  I walked out the front door to get the newspaper and was pleasantly surprised to feel the temperature just a little bit cooler than it normally is.  That frog strangler rain yesterday evening did a nice job of cooling things off.

Inspired, I decided to gear up and go for a ride.  As I taxi out of the neighborhood, Green Onions by B.B. King comes into my ear buds.  The catchy organ rip gets me moving and excited about the ride.  I turn onto the highway and twist the wrist.  I have NO idea where I’m going.  I decide to play a little game of “left/right/left/right”.  I ride the road I’m on until I either get to the end of the road, a stop sign, or a signal light, whichever comes first.  Then I turn left.  At the end of that road, next stop sign, or next signal, whichever comes first, I turn right.  Then left.  Then right, and so on….

The game takes me well out to the west of the city in the sticks.  The summer crops are in full swing now in the deep south.  The milo is headed out on top of the plant, and from what I can tell, no cow is going to go hungry this winter.  Soybeans are set on the plant, and harvesting for these is only a couple weeks away.  The sugar cane is tall, perhaps 6 feet or higher now.  But the stalks are thin and it will be a few months before the sweet juice inside them is ready for processing.  The rice fields are dry, having been drained for a couple of weeks.  The rice is ready to be cut now.  The nutty aroma emitted by the dried rice plants is very nice, coming up through my helmet.

I quit playing my game and started riding more familiar and desirable pavement.  It’s still very early in the morning, and the roads are basically desolate.  The temperature is slowly rising, but so far it’s not too bad under my mesh jacket.  Yesterday’s rain has cleaned up the roads very well – plenty of grip all around today on my worn, but not worn out Michelin PR2s.  I run through several small towns:  Ridge, Rayne, Crowley, Eunice, and Mamou.  Each town is basically quiet, except at the convenience stores where people are buying supplies and fuel for either their work day, or as in my case, play day.

Just outside Mamou, I roll up on the intersection of State Hwy 1161.  What an unbelievable blessing!!!!  This is one of my favorite roads in the entire region.  Basically a freshly paved farm road, Hwy 1161 has some very high speed banked sweepers that are wide open with great visibility.  Just off the intersection, I pull off and stop to drink some water.

(http://i1281.photobucket.com/albums/a511/hppants1/IMG_2684_zpsw2drb1dz.jpg)

A couple of farm hands are hacking on an old rice combine across the way.  On my side of the road, a dried rice field is swaying in the light breeze.  Down the road in another field, I can see a handful of cows having breakfast on some tall grass.

Refreshed, I gear back up and hit play on my MP3 player:  AC/DC – Thunderstruck.  Oh yeah, that’s the right song and the right road, baby.  I’ve had a hell of a week.  It’s time to uncork this bike right here, right now!!!

I crank the volume up and run the big girl up the gears aggressively, shifting at about 7,000 rpm.  By the time I get to the first curve, posted 40, I’m running 65-ish and my crotch is up against the tank.  I lean the bike over in 3rd gear and the suspension plants beautifully.  The road is clean and wide open.  No cars coming, no dogs, no nothing.  Past the apex, I twist the throttle hard as Brian Johnson starts verse #1.  I get a rush of adrenaline as the bike is pulling hard.  For the next 4 miles, I hit the high speed sweeper with the precision of a Moto GP racer.  My lines are absolutely perfect and it’s like somehow the bike knows what I am thinking.  At times, I add a smidge of counter steer to the bars and she flops over with huge confidence.  For 2 or 3 curves, I’m treated to Angus’ solo and it fuels me like some kind of high octane race gas.  At one point as I’m accelerating out of a very fast left hander, I glance down to the speedo.  I lifted my eyes back up to look through the next curve before I could accurately read my speed.  All I remember is that the first digit was a “1”.  Enough said…..

Too soon, the curves end.  I pull up and back off the throttle.  The bike slows down well below “going to jail” speed and after about 1 mile of straight pavement, Hwy 1161 dead ends at the intersection of Hwy 29.  The boys are wrapping up their song and quite appropriately, I’m feeling pretty electric.  I’ve got a little tingle in my fingers and my heartbeat is elevated.  I turn the music volume down and immediately start to calm.  I turn right on Hwy 29 and set the GPS for home.  Of course I know how to get there, but I like gadgets as much as the next guy.  It was a very nice and easy 50 miles to the house.

The cork is out now.  All pressures are back to normal.

Stay thirsty, my friends……


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: 02Tac on August 29, 2016, 11:26:51 am
The ole Bandit was having starting problems. Seemed like a battery going south. Replaced the battery; nope, not it.  Inspected everything down to the starter. All good. Pulled and disassembled the starter and found this.

(http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee34/02TAC/Mobile%20Uploads/image_205.jpeg) (http://s228.photobucket.com/user/02TAC/media/Mobile%20Uploads/image_205.jpeg.html)

Cleaned it all up, reinstalled it and all is well.  :D


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: jay547 on April 05, 2017, 08:50:58 pm
Last Saturday, I had a nice ride planned on my DR650. A bunch of country roads, one highway, a few trails, then back. Approximately 120 miles - should be hitting reserve just before home. Twenty miles into the ride, I slid out on some slick concrete. I landed on my left shoulder, elbow, and wrist. I hurried and picked up my bike while I still had some adrenalin flowing. I did it one-handed - I wasn't sure if that was even possible as heavy as this pig is. I had to lift my left hand with my right hand and put it on the clutch to get going. I never took it off all the way home because I was afraid it wouldn't go back. I got the hot flash and starting feeling sick and had to unzip my jacket. After about five miles, it went away. Then I got hungry - weird. Even though I was in pain, I actually thought about stopping to get something.  I iced down my shoulder and Lisa made me a grilled cheese. A new shifter arrived today. My wrist and elbow have recovered but it's not going so well for my shoulder. I might have to sit out this weekend - and the weather is forecast to be wonderful.  :(



(http://i.imgur.com/4qgSZGa.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: aviationfred on April 06, 2017, 10:47:16 am
Living in Kansas, our choices of twisty roads are slim to none. I usually tell folks from other areas of the country, that the Kansas curved roads are 90 degrees and usually have a stop sign or red light involved. An easy trip 500 miles to the West or 300 miles Southeast puts me into some of my favorite roads.

This was June of last year just north of Ridgeway, Colorado on Highway 550 (Million Dollar Highway) on my way to Ouray, Colorado. The San Juan Mountains are in the background. I try and get to at least one FJ rally a year. Having to cross the Continental divide to get there is a treat in itself. Highway 50 from Canon City, CO. over Monarch Pass, Elev. 11,312 Ft. The ride past the Blue Mesa Reservoir and through the Black Canyon is one of my favorite rides.



(https://www.sport-touring.net/forums/gallery/8/22861_29_07_16_10_50_10.jpeg)


Fred


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: jay547 on July 02, 2017, 05:48:52 pm
January, 1988, Allen Ranch, Bixby, Oklahoma, back in my motocross racing days. The temps were well below freezing in the morning. My friend Earl (a good Okie name) talked me into going. Only seven riders showed up. They delayed the races until it warmed up enough to disc the track which turned it into a mudfest. It was a struggle just to stay upright. I was just happy to finish and did a little sarcastic victory sign over the final jump - which was too muddy to jump.

(http://i.imgur.com/ZHycn1U.jpg)

They gave us all a trophy and a tee shirt. Earl scraped the mud off his bike into a bucket before he washed it. It weighed sixty pounds.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: jeepinbanditrider on October 18, 2017, 07:44:31 pm
So a little quick backstory

17 and a half years ago my great grandfather passed away.  The only thing physically I have left of him is a 1978 Suzuki GS1000E.  At the time I was 15 years old.  I honestly think the only reason I got it was because his second wife (my "step grandmother") figured it wasn't worth anything and wanted to clear space in the basement.  We brought it back home to Texas and proceeded to spend a few weekends working on it and got it running.  I rode it to the ROT (Republic of Texas rally) without registration because we were unable to find ownership info such as title and whatnot after my greatgrand father's death and I didn't know about bonded titles at 15.  

Fast forward to me joining the Marine Corps and the bike stayed in Texas while I went off gallivanting.  It fell into disrepair again.  I got orders to an area back home and got it running again and started the bonded title process.  Things happened with my then marriage at that point and the GS1000 fell to the wayside and fell into disrepair again and the bonded title process left my mind.  I started both processes again and got the bike running.....again.  Shortly thereafter I got orders to California and again both items fell to the wayside.  

Well I left the Marine Corps late last year and early this year got a job with a DFW area Fire Department.  At this point the GS entered my mind again (I've owned motorcycles since I was 16), and I made a special effort to retrieve it from my mom and dad's house and transport it to my new house and my efforts in getting this bike running......yet again, and getting the bonded title done on it picked up a new pace.  I wasn't going anywhere in the near or far future of my life and I felt like I owed it to not only my great grandfather but myself to get this damn thing road legal both mechanically and paperwork wise.  f

I spent far more than I needed to on Partzilla, about 500 dollars on taxes and a bonded title and neglected some other things to focus on at least getting the big stuff done and getting it back on road legally.  This wasn't nearly a full tear down and rebuild as the bike had already been gone though many times.

First time we redid it required a lot of work,  biggest of which was finding a replacement gas tank since the original one had rotted though after spending 13 years in a Tennessee earthen basement and looked like a cartoon with gas coming out of it at various places.  

As "rebuilds" went on it required less and less work to get it back road worthy.   Parts that I can remember replacing right off are, fork seals, spark plugs, gas tank, battery, replaced carbs with rebuilt units, valve adjustment, shock replacement, tires of course, tachometer, blinkers on front, tail light lens, brake pads, brake lines with braided steel, replaced rotted out stock exaust with a Delkievic 4 into 1 system.  I'm sure there's a lot more that I can't remeber but honestly after so many years in a basement I was expecting a lot more work to be done.  These bikes are quite tough.  

The first time it has been road legal with inspection and registration in 30 years.  Last time it was registered was in Tennessee in 1987.

(https://scontent-dft4-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t31.0-8/22339399_10214816485711840_5515225129716764134_o.jpg?oh=bdb86c6fcd9f90bb27bb9a38c61f1daa&oe=5A78F6C8)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: viffergyrl on October 18, 2017, 09:07:03 pm
Yay motorcycles!


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: jay547 on June 07, 2018, 09:41:12 pm
Well, someone's gotta keep this thread alive.

I went for a dual-sport ride Saturday. The afternoon high was forecast to be 93° so I hauled my bike over to the chosen area - I didn't want to be droning down the highway for endless miles on that bike in the late afternoon heat. I unloaded and started getting my gear on. Doh!

(https://i.imgur.com/bjUNDnU.jpg)

Of course, I was in a small town with no stores that would have anything suitable. I had to go about twenty miles out of my way to get some gloves. Luckily, there was an O'Reilly's there.


Now, I have an extra pair of Mechanix gloves.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Hueyf4i on June 11, 2018, 07:24:40 pm
It's a simple job. . . .

Ever decide to do something that seems simple.  This was me replacing my power windscreen adjuster.  The adjuster itself is only held by 4 bolts.  Getting to it, as you can see from the pic, is a different story.  I saved myself hundreds of dollars in labor, but I can't say the same for my frustration.  Did I mention that this was my first time removing the plastics from my ST 1300?  From start to finish this was a 5 hour job.  I was excited to get it done and went for a ride with my wife for several hours.  Well. After about 2 hours I noticed that the adjuster wasn't working again.  So, after the ride I spent an hour using a short cut and found that I apparently didn't seat one of the four electrical connectors. 100% and it had come loose.  Problem solved and hopefully the new adjuster lasts for a long long time. . . (https://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/20180611/f20b6d1dcfffe17ef28763f1c2b829ef.jpg)

Sent from my SM-G955U using Tapatalk


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: aviationfred on June 12, 2018, 12:40:43 am
2018 Central FJ Rally, Day #2 ride.

A ride into Missouri to the Rainbow Trout & Game Resort. The food is great, (The Amaretto Trout Florentine was amazing) good, and the ride there and back is spectacular. One of the highlights of the ride was crossing Bull Shoals lake on the last remaining ferry in Arkansas. On the way back to Arkansas, it got quite warm and everyone had thoughts that a few rain drops would be welcomed to help cool things a bit. We ended up with buckets of raindrops the size of dimes falling from the sky. My friend Ron and I had flashbacks to the 2015 Black Hills FJ Rally and the flash flood in Hill City. The rain let up a bit and we headed out for the final 60 miles back to the Cliff House. Not far along, we got hit by another round of heavy rain. We were all already soaked, so we just kept going. Nothing like a bit of adversity during a ride.

(https://www.sport-touring.net/forums/gallery/9/22861_12_06_18_12_39_45.jpeg)

Fred


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: jay547 on September 15, 2020, 09:15:55 pm
Thirty years ago today, I crashed and broke my leg.


(https://i.imgur.com/b1HiAVZ.jpg)

I was racing a night race at a motocross track 150 miles away from where I lived. They had a small triple-double section following a 180° turn. I was going outside in the turn to get enough speed to make the section. On the third lap, a guy got outside of me in the turn so I took the inside. Since it was a shorter run, I hit the throttle harder. Unfortunately, I had a little too much throttle, cleared the first two, and landed on the face of the third. This bounced me straight up in the air about five feet above my bike. I remember looking down and seeing my handlebars coming up at me as the bike hit the next jump. My shin landed directly on the crossbar, flipping me through the air, and breaking my tibia. I managed to crawl off the track and waited for the medics. They took my boot off and told me they thought I had a broken leg. I was sitting up and said, "Maybe it's okay." I lifted my leg and I could see the bone poking on the skin from the inside. I dejectedly said, "It's broke." They asked me if I wanted an ambulance. I asked, "Do I have to pay for it?" They replied with, "Yes." I said, "Put me in the back of my truck." My wife drove me to the local hospital where they confirmed that it was broken. They put a splint on it and told me to visit my local ortho doc. At the time, I had a regular cab, small Toyota truck. With the splint on, I couldn't fit in the cab. I had to make the 150 mile drive home in the back of my truck. It got down to about 50° that night and was a long, chilly ride home.

I wore a full length cast for eight weeks then the one in the pic for 12 more. It was my first serious racing injury but certainly not my last.


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: rajflyboy on September 16, 2020, 06:11:17 am
Nice trophy’s  :bigok:



Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Blue is Best on September 16, 2020, 05:33:53 pm
Who is that with all the trophies? Can't be you that guy is good looking!!!!!!!!!!!


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: jay547 on September 16, 2020, 09:33:01 pm
And I thought I was old then...


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Grnarrowe on December 28, 2020, 10:39:34 pm
Why did the bear cross the road?

Happy Valley Road in Tennessee. September 2020.


(https://photos.smugmug.com/photos/i-xCBVWtg/0/XL/i-xCBVWtg-XL.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: jay547 on February 23, 2021, 10:52:04 pm
Back in '73, when I was 14, I lusted for a Yamaha 125 Enduro. Of course, dad said no. Fast forward to 2000, I was on Ebay casually looking at old bikes. I ran across a '73 Yamaha 125 Enduro, not running, not tagged, no title, up for auction in Omaha - I live in Oklahoma. It looked like it was in pretty good shape otherwise. I put in a low bid as a lark and logged off. The next day, I had a notice that I won the auction. I told my then wife, "I guess we're going to Omaha this weekend." I hauled it back in my truck, put a few hundred bucks into it, got it tagged, and rode it for years. I still have it.

My daughter just loved this bike. Ironically, she was 14 in this pic.

(https://i.imgur.com/I5twwXB.jpg)


Title: Re: One Picture. One Story.
Post by: Mrs. DantesDame on February 24, 2021, 10:27:36 am

Back in '73, when I was 14, I lusted for a Yamaha 125 Enduro. Of course, dad said no. Fast forward to 2000, I was on Ebay casually looking at old bikes. I ran across a '73 Yamaha 125 Enduro, not running, not tagged, no title, up for auction in Omaha - I live in Oklahoma. It looked like it was in pretty good shape otherwise. I put in a low bid as a lark and logged off. The next day, I had a notice that I won the auction. I told my then wife, "I guess we're going to Omaha this weekend." I hauled it back in my truck, put a few hundred bucks into it, got it tagged, and rode it for years. I still have it.


That's a pretty cool story.  :thumbsup:


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