Thursday, December 27, 2012

And finally ... Portland!


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After two hours of riding north on the coast I got out of the fog and enjoyed some of the best coastal sections between Florence and Waldport. I stopped for some photos and chatted with a couple guys from SoCal, who rode to El Paso to Nelson, BC, to Vancouver and now down the Oregon coast. One guy was on a older BMW R70 (I think) the other on a new gold wing with a rear platform holding a cooler and a giant suitcase strapped to the back seat. For one guy. I wonder if he was moving? Anyway the road was nice and smooth, albight it was a cool 60F.

By 10:30 the traffic had increased significantly, and It was time to head inland on 34 to Corvallis. Unlike two years ago when Paul and I rode it and sat in construction traffic, this time, with the exception of a car and a logging truck quickly dispatched, I had the road to myself. As I went inland the temperature rose quickly.

The primary reason to take this road because it is a nice road. The secondary reason was to have lunch with Chuck. But as he is in Montana, I skipped lunch and went north to Portland, and checked into the hotel, the Embassy suites near the airport.

3600 miles in six days! Now I get 4 days off the bike, with Jennifer, until I head east on Monday. I asked the hotel about parking the bike in the back of the lot until Monday, but they suggested that I park it under the awning in front of the entrance. Bonus! Awesome customer service from these guys!

I looked the bike over and realized that two things were wrong
 
1. No laminar lip. I had removed this from the windshield and strapped it to the Motofizz  bag someplace in Nevada. Now that I think about it, I am not sure I remember seeing it since then. Bummer.

2. One of the front forks is leaking fluid, slowly. I've got a Seal-mate I will try to remove whatever is in there if it gets bad, but at this point, with 50k miles on these seals and bushings and the fjr having pretty good fork protectors, I suspect that the seal is bad rather than stuff getting into the seal. I don't want to try to fix it and make it worse... as it will get me home in the current state. My biggest fear is having a catastrophic failure and coating the brakes (and I will at least have two more discs to stop me).

Stayed tuned... more updates next week!

Sunday, December 23, 2012

You know you're a midwesterner if ...


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...you need to take a break because there are just ... TOO ... MANY ... CORNERS!


...you can't seem to get used to slower cars pulling over to let you pass.

...your shoulders and palms hurt from countersteering for 500 miles.

...you can't shake the CBR-250 following you despite having 1050 more cc (last year)

What can I say? Northern California offers some of the best riding in our country. From my camp-site at Whiskeytown national rec area to the coast was 115 miles of all sorts of curves and very little traffic. A 20 mile jaunt to Willow Creek on 299 yielded more traffic but lots of sweepers and passing zones. 96 to Happy Camp was 89 miles of bliss following the Klamath river with astounding views... and traffic was nonexistent. I only had to pass two vehicles. I could have stayed on 96 another 60 miles, to Yreka, but I needed to go north, not east. So I took Indian Spring road to Oregon, then 199 to Crescent City and 101 north.

It was 90-97f inland. It was 49f and foggy on the coast. I chose fog, banking on a nice day tomorrow.





I camped at Humbug Mtn state park. Exhausted.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Nevada


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By 7:30 I was streaking across the desert at 80 mph.

Hwy 50 is supposed to be 'Loneliest Road in America' but I think hwy 212 through south dakota beats it. There was a car every couple minutes, a town every 50 miles. Pffft.

I was expecting the desert to be hot, boring and featureless. It was nothing of the sort (whereas Nebraska is ... sorry Tim!). It was 54f and slowly crept up to 81f. There were mountains all around... 319 mountain ranges in Nevada, supposedly the most of any state. And the road was straight for 10-15 miles at a time as it crossed the desert valley floors, but it passed over a mountain range for another 10 miles. Rinse, repeat, 10 times.

The recent rain has caused the sage to bloom in shades of yellow and release pollen, a quite palpable odor. I didn't expect any odors at all.

The fun ended at Fernley. That's when I re-entered civilization, and with it, people and traffic. This continued until Truckee, which is in California. Truckee is a cute mountain town and that means tourists go and drink wine, look at art, and generally get in my way. Therefore, I felt it was prudent to avoid Truckee. But my GPS took me there anyway. Who in tarnation programmed this route....

I went north on 89. Despite 40- and 35-mph corners I maintained 65-70 mph except through the towns. I was back in the pine trees, ponderosa this time... which has a distinct odor. I love it!

Hwy 70 was where the fun started again! One of the things which makes California the best motorcycling state is their speed limits. Hwy 70's statutory limit is 55mph (except in towns) and they don't mark it down for the corners. Thus corners with 25mph yellow signs can be legally ridden at 55mph, or 65mph, assuming the typical cop fudge factor. And 70 has 50+ miles of curves, smooth pavement, and almost no traffic. I think I saw ten cars total.




70 brought me to Chico and 97F and more traffic. A quick jaunt north to Redding, then west on 299 with the sun in my eyes, placed me at the Whiskeytown reservoir for the evening.

Friday, December 21, 2012

Utah


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Ahhh where to start?

Ok how about the morning!

There was a morning, and I was up before it, due to an early night and a light dinner of a banana and something else (corn nuts, I think), I was ravenous. Breakfasted and packed up and had a cup of coffee overlooking Grand Junction, thousands of feet below me.

First riding order of the day was to replace the burned out headlight. Not having girly hands this took me a friggin half hour, during which I chatted with my neighbor who was from southern California, with one hand in the FJR fairing. Nice guy, reminds me of a retired engineer. Then I went to find bandaids for my skinned knuckles.

8am and I was a-rollin! Since I was behind schedule I decided to skip Arches NP, having been there before. With half a tank and 150miles on the odometer I passed through Spring Green valley or some-such (where the Thors and I stopped for the night last year). Five miles later I was down to 3/8 tank. 'I really should go back' methinks. Nah, I got 70 miles of fuel I will be good. The scenery was awesome, just like last year. Even though this was the interstate and I was doing 83 mph, the rock formations kept my attention.

Until I saw a '40 miles to next services' sign and looked down to see I only had 20 miles of gas. Shitpants! I must have missed the 'no services for 90 miles' sign earlier.

After our 'incident' on the Walt Ride earlier this year, I had purchased and stashed under my seat a fuel siphoning device. I now envisioned myself standing on the interstate shoulder, gas cap open, holding the tube up to passerbys. At least there are a few vehicles on the road.

The next exit had three signs:
- straight (35 miles to services)
- right (27 miles to services)
- right (12 miles to gas)

I can't go 35 miles, 27 .... maybe, 12, no problem. But that means leaving the interstate where I can siphon out of someone's tank, or turning right and going off into the boonies. Boonies it is! Soon as I got on the ramp my low fuel light came on and started counting down. I sure hope that gas station exists!

And it did. 12 miles later I was shoving a nozzle into my tank and thinking about lunch. And then I thought... I am 12 miles off the interstate, I wonder if there is a good alternate route back? Sure enough I found one, on hwy 31, the Energy Loop, a scenic byway. Yay!

It rained a little, and I went through some towns with nice flower baskets, and a home of the 'watch tower something', probably a mormon thing. No problemo! And I got gas on a regular basis.

There was a section of road which went straight as an arrow across the desert for 50 miles before I crossed into Nevada and pacific time. I skipped the Great Basin NP because there was lightning over there and zoomed west onwards on hwy 50, enjoying Nevada's higher speed limits. Civilization has gone missing, all I have is the road coursing through the desert and sweeping through the mountains.

I passed a wind farm. I dodged thunderstorms. At 80 (in a 70) I was overtaken by the Sheriff. I was digging it.
 
At a rest stop (more corn nuts! Thank god I didn't buy a big bag) I read about the Great Basin, stretching from the sierra nevada's to the rockies, from Oregon to Mexico, where no water drains to any ocean. It either evaporates or sinks into the desert. And then there is the Great Basin Desert, where I am.

Ely. Gas. And thunderstorms ahead. Crap, I think I will have to cross the mountains... and lots of lightning. I resolve to find a hotel room, as the local KOA wants $25 and then I will be in the rain anyway. Online I find one smoking room at the Ramada, for $110. Dammit! But they have a business office, and I have stuff to do, which means I won't have to stop at fedex in Reno tomorrow. I get there and ask about a gov't rate (military spouse, remember?) and get a room for $82. Still smoking, but the alternative is a suite for $155. Smoking it is. And they don't have a business office despite the booklet in the room claiming they do. However, the receptionist says I can use the managers computer in the back and I do. Sweeet!

Dinner? Oh yeah, had a great blue cheese and bacon burger and two Rotator IPA's while thumbing this up. I think that 'splains my style.

Tomorrow I continue west on hwy 50, dubbed 'the loneliest highway in the us' and will enter motorcycle mecca, I.e. California!

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Colorado has Mountains, in case you didn't know ...


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No really, there are mountains here! I found a whole bunch, propped up tightly against each other, so close in fact that nary a stream can squeeze between them.

There was this one place called 'deep river gorge' or something, I followed the signs to it, they promised the highest and longest single span suspension bridge and my gps showed a road going over it, so I left hwy 50 in CaƱon and rode 4 excruciatingly slow miles behind a Floridian q-tip. Then I retraced my steps because they wanted $26 just to SEE the bridge and walk on it, as it is closed to vehicles. What a ripoff... but one of the joys of capitalism is being the consumer who can say NO! and go ride someplace else. So I did. But not before stopping a little town to buy a new bulb and successfully avoiding the salesmans attempts to sell me the $40 silver super duper star bulbs when the $9 one works just fine.

Then on my way to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. But first a smoked beef burger in Gunnison, and btw for some reason both my earbuds work today. All day.

Somewhere around here I went over Monarch Pass at 11,000 feet, leapfrogging slower cars going the ridiculously low speed limit. At the summit it was cool... 61f maybe? And once in a while I passed aspen groves changing their colors. This is the first time I have seen them in the fall, and the yellows and greens are so bright it hurts to look at them. I don't know if the camera managed to capture them...

Ok. The canyon. Wow. That is one long and steep and black canyon. I took 50 along it then went north on 92, the north rim. It was difficult to capture the whole thing with a camera so I got little bits and pieces of it. 92 itself was posted at 35 mph most of the ways which is too low, so I went 60mph most of it. Super duper twisty road with lots of 25mph corners and not much traffic. Put this on your list of roads to ride!

92 straightened out, but instead of going straight to Grand Junction I went right on CR2100 through a dumpy ass town called Cedar Orchard or something. Its the sort of town where most homes are trailers and there are broken things on the lawn and people furrow their brows when they look at you. The kind of town you'd expect skinheads to put together and be proud of. Fortunately the FJR didn't break down and the road went through to hwy 65 and I went north on that.

It took up to a Grand Mesa national forest. Beautifully smooth and curvy roads with little traffic, I could actually get a lean on as the speed limits weren't stupid low. Out of the desert into an alpine wilderness at 7800 feet. There were lakes and rec areas etc up here. Staying on 65 north it went back down right next to Powderhorn ski area, then right before it joined I-70 it took me on a couple miles of sweeping deep canyon roads.

I-70 to Grand Junction to Colorado National Monument. More super twisty 15mph corners for 20 miles hugging the canyon rims with 1000 feet drop-offs. But being a national park means 25 or 35 mph speed limit, enforcement, and tourists. And this is where I camped for the night.








I was hoping to make it to Arches National Park but that didn't happen, so I will skip Utah tomorrow and make a beeline for Nevada and California. After all, California has the best roads in the nation!

More fun in Guatemala

[Note: I found this was unpublished, so I am publishing it now. It is irrelevant and old (sort of like me, but doesn't smell bad) but I really like to finish things up so here it is]:

 
Today it took an hour to get to the client, traffic was pretty bad. 


Once again I taught.


Lunch was nothing special ... Pizza Hut of all things. yay. At least they had a spicy pollo chipotle with corn on delgado (thin crust) which was pretty good ... Then the fun started. 


My customer (also my students) will only be reimbursed for the amount on the receipts they submit. However, the receipts do not tips, so that comes out of the student's pocket. Not a big deal, even though the cost of eat here is the same as the US. The bigger problem is that Pizza Hut put it all on a single tab and they couldn't split. Thus, we get to stand there for 20 !!!! minutes while the manager figures out how to a) hand-write receipts for us, and b) split our tab. Jeebus.


Then, on the way back to work we nearly ran over one of many stray dogs when we weren't stuck in traffic. At one point we shut off the car for 15 minutes. Did I tell you there were SIX of us in the Pontiac Sunfire? Luckily we don't smell bad. We spend the time showing each other photos we had on our phones. Oh .. if I hadn't mentioned it yet .. these Costa Rican's and Guatemalan's are very warm and friendly. They are a pleasure to work with!


Dinner was, once again, excellent. Sole stuffed with spinach in a caper relish with potatoes. Once again I asked the waiter to select a wine for me, his choice being a Chilean CarmĆ©nĆØre. I'm starting to dig this stuff ... not as dry or 'big' as a cabernet sauvignon (my favority style of wine) yet much more so than a merlot. Sort of a happy medium which did not overpower the food.


And in walks an old'ish American man (easy to tell since he's loud) with a knockout young Gautemalan girl in a tall dark dress showing a lot of leg (and she had a lot of leg to show!) following him. Hm, an escort, perhaps?


Post-dinner I 'enjoyed' a local beer, call "Gallo". Definitely a pilsner style, some DMS and sulphur notes. Much more balance and body than the macro-beers in the US but not really all that great. I opted against a second one. 


BTW .. did you know that Anheuser-Busch (Budweiser) is owned by Inbev, a Dutch company? And that Coors is owned by SABMiller (originally south-african, now based out of London) and Molson, out of Canada? Hmm...  I wonder if the "buy American" crowd guzzling these brews know they aren't 'merican?

Sunday, December 16, 2012

My Butt is made of Iron


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So there is this thing called the "Iron Butt Association".  In case you aren't familiar with it, it's a group of motorcyclists who like to ride long distances. Every other year they host a rally across North America where they will typically ride 10,000 - 12,000 miles in 7-10 days. They also certify rides like the CC50 (coast to coast in 50 hours), CCC100 (coast to coast to coast in 100 hours). Famous people are in this club, like Ron Ayres who rode rode in 49 states in 6 days and 31 minutes. To be a member, one must plan, ride and document at least 1000 miles in under 24 hours.

Well, I did it!

It wasn't too bad either. The only hiccup was when I tried to leave at 0430 I kept remembering things forgotten, and couldn't find the Spot etc so I didn't roll out until 0515. First order was to get a gas receipt, so I went to Joe's Mobil to get the non-ethanol-stuff. First thing I noticed was that my remote heated liner and glove controller wasn't working.... great, batteries are dead. I figured I will stop by home and change them as I have some in a drawer and I need to unscrew a cover to get at them. If I were smart I would have checked this the night before.

So. Joe's. The pumps are on, but it wasn't until I had run my card and tried to put fuel into the tank that I realized I had no lights. I was filling in the dark! Thus, I rammed the nozzle all the way down and hoped the auto-shut-off worked. If I were smart I would have gone to another gas station and not risked gas-in-lap-syndrome. But it worked, partially filling my tank, but I didn't get a receipt because I wasn't quick enough to push the requisite button. Dammit!

Ok. Batteries. It was 55f so not totally necessary to get the liners working, and I still needed a receipt, so I resolved to just stop at KwikTrip and get both. Done.

On the road. Finally.

Of course it got colder, 43F by the time I was on I-35. Still OK though, the long undies and wickers turtleneck and the heat from the FJR was sufficient, and with no remote the heated gear reverts to 1/3 power. I wasn't totally comfy, but enough to avoid stopping just to swap batteries. As dawn was .. um ... dawning... I figured it would get warmer.

At the Iowa welcome center it was only 45f and I changed the battieries. Only thing is I bought AA and needed AAA. I had two partially used AAA (a duracell and a super pricey lithium) so I put them in. This will bite me later.

And so I traveled around Des Moines and snacked on a granola bar and a banana. In Omaha I changed to shorts and a t-shirt, and opened a 10 year old MRE.... ewwwww the grilled hamburger patty had leaked all over. Garbage! I ate some beef jerky instead.

And on I rode, through Lincoln, Kearney, and it was pushing 86F. The GPS sid "turn in 299 miles". yay ... ?

TheFJR  was running great, engine purring and the suspension soaking up the road. I tried to keep it at 83 mph but would occasionally find my speed creeping up 95mph. Yikes! Lots of enforcement in Nebraska and Colorado.

Surprisingly I was not tired. The beaded seat cover worked great with the Target-brand wicking performance briefs and about every 30 miles or so I stood on the pegs. Also did my physical therapy on the bike to keep my lumbar limber (so if you see me hump my gas tank, you'll know its not just love for the Yamaha....)

In Colorado I realized that I would not make it to Pueblo KOA before their office closed at 7pm so called them and asked about a late check-in. I figured I could always scare up another camper for a signature. But Carolyn said I could call their number and they would walk over and be witnesses for me .... sweet!

And so I rode, mile after mile. I passed through Aurora while, coincidentally, listening to a podcast (APM's The Story) talking with a high school chem teacher who was at the school the day of the theater shooting.

The interstates flowed smoothly at 80-85 mph. The pavement was perfect. I was on I-470, a toll road with license plate readers. If all toll roads were like this I would so totally support them, as opposed to the ones out east which you pay a fortune for, dig for change, and then dodge potholes and oil slicks.

As the sun set behind the rockies the temps dropped quickly and I needed fuel and more layers. But once off the interstate the road quality tanked and speed limits were redonkulously low. But I was on the home stretch!

Ok the batteries in the remote heat controller have run out. Dammit!

And then I lost audio on the right side. Dammit!

As I neared the campground I thought, ok I should get a final receipt. So I rode four miles past the Pueblo KOA into Pueblo, found a gas station and bought a banana. Back outside I couldn't find my keys... Dammit!

I went back inside and the attendant had them. Whew! Back to the campground. I started to smell race gas....

Carolyn and her husband were waiting there, ready to be my witnesses and they even upgraded me to a cabin so I could "get a good night's rest". That was awfully nice of them! Once again it proves that KOA folks are some of the best folks around - a bit pricier than state parks, but closer to towns, less than hotels, and they often have decent beer in their stores.

Walking to my cabin I realized there was a racetrack across the highway... what I couldn't hear with my earplugs in. The cabin blocked some of the noise.

So now I am just as tough of a rider as y'all!

Monday, December 10, 2012

The Golden Circle

The Golden Circle has nothing to do with pee. It is a tourist route that is drivable in a single day from which we can experience some highlights of the Icelandic landscape.


We rented a car and drove off across the volcanic landscape! First we saw sheep.


Then piles of rocks.


 Then we moved some rocks around.


Then we stood on the edge of the North American plate and looked across the rift zone to the European plate. These plates drift apart about 2 cm per year, increasing the size of Iceland. In the rift zone there was an old church and graveyard.


We found a super clear gorge.


Jennifer climbed up. It's not a HUGE gorge, just a little one.


And then ... geysirs! We witnessed several eruptions, which occurs every 5-8 minutes.





We saw some gnarly BMW's from Europe. There must be a ferry or something.


And then .. Gullfoss! This is a fantastic waterfall with tremendous amounts of water (more than Niagara even!). First we hiked to the bottom overlook, then the top, and took photos. Note the rainbows!


Before going back to Reykjavik we drove south to the coast and visited another waterfall.


We walked behind it and posed in front.


The drive back to Reykjavik was sort of boring until we passed over the mountains and the little car struggled ... we floored it and gave it everything it had trying to keep up with traffic. We were worried for a little while, but it made it.

The beautiful weather we experienced in Iceland offset the dreary rain in Norway. In hindsight we should have shifted our trip two weeks later. Oh well.

One thing I did in Iceland was learn about other parts of Iceland. There are vast interior tracts accessible only by jacked up offroad vehicles, and myriads of fjords on each end of the iceland waiting to be explored. Some day ...

And that's the end of our trip to Europe in 2012. What's next .... ??

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

The Land of Ice

One of the benefits of flying on Iceland Air is the ability to plan a layover. So we did. We booked three nights in Reykjavik at the Hilton, courtesy of Hilton Honor's frequent stay program. As evidence that I travel too much, we had access to the executive lounge which includes breakfast, all day snacks and beer. This saved us a lot of money during our stay in Iceland. 


Visiting the Blue Lagoon was high on our list but we opted to skip it because Jennifer would not be able to enjoy it fully. We determined it would be a waste of money (transportation, food and the $40 entry fee ... each) for her to dip her toes. So we skipped it and spent a day in Reykjavik instead.

We started with ... what else? The Icelandic Phallological Museum.


Yep, and entire museum dedicated to penii from all sorts of animals, including humans. This was not in the tourism literature but very easy to find online. It was ... interesting.




They had a ghost penis and even a merman penis. Now I feel inadequate.  


Next up was a giant church with someone inside playing the organ (a different kind than in the museum...) and a violin. We skipped the trip up into the tower. Although the tower was sort of phallogical too ...


Once more strolling around downtown, we stopped at the only brewpub in the country, and was pleasantly surprised at how good the beer was - both the IPA and the stout, and played a game of backgammon while listening to the young average-looking girl going gaga over the attractive icelandic boy at the table with her. And wondering if this was the gathering place of the wandering youths of Europe.


A quick stroll around the town hall and pond then we were on the last shuttle back to the hotel. Yep, last shuttle, and it's bright daylight ... the sun does not set here in the middle of the summer. It was time for dinner, beer and chess in the executive lounge, on the ninth floor of the Hilton, overlooking Reykjavik and the fjord.