Well, that plan didn't work out very well. I decided I was going to start this journey about a month and a half earlier than the past two years to avoid the heat. It didn't work, since I began the trip on the second hottest day of the year.
It didn't make for a very pleasant ride. I met up with Ken in St. Leon after finishing up some things at work this morning. We were on the road by 11:30, and the ride was pretty uneventful. All interstate. And hot.
After meanadering along the cornfields through Indiana, we got to meander through some soybean fields in Illinois. See, aren't you glad now that you decided to follow this blog?
The weather did provide us with a little bit of excitement. We had just crossed into Illinois, and as I passed a semi to my right I was smacked with a large raindrop to the right side of my face. It was either that, or the trucker hit me with a lugie just as I passed. I am going to go with raindrop. It was cool and refreshing, smacked me right on the cheek.
Then, after about another ten miles or so the winds picked up. Soon, the temperature dropped about 15 degrees. I looked to the south and it was raining. I looked to the north and it was raining. I thought we might have a nice refreshing downpour to ride through to cool things down. We ended up riding through a storm front without another drop of rain. We get through the front and the sun starts beating down on us just like before. Only now, it is humid as hell.
But, I tend to look at things on the positive side. It could have been worse. I could have been riding through the heat and humidy after I soiled my pants. Yep, I am sure that would have been worse. Or I could not have been riding at all. That would have really stunk.
Overall, it was a good day on where we ended up. 350 miles under our belt on Friday when the original plan didn't have us leaving until Saturday. Looking to get in about 450 miles or so tomorrow and planning on being on the road early to get as many miles as we can behind us before the sun gets too high in the sky.
For now, I am off to the heated indoor pool at the hotel. I need to rinse that raindrop off of my face, just in case...
Friday, June 29, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
Knocking Out the Last Two
Up until this point, I have ridden my motorcycle in every one of the 48 contiguous states (plus Alaska) with the exception of Oregon and Washington. I plan to complete the goal of riding in every state except Hawaii in 2012. Ken Wilson, a veteran of my rides over the last two years, has plans to join me.
The first part of the trip will be uneventful, as we will have to hop on the interstate and ride nearly 2250 miles over five or six days in order to get to the Columbia River Gorge, which runs along Oregons northern border with the state of Washington. Then, it will 7 or eight days of riding some awesome motorcycling roads through some of the most beautiful places in our western states. The last three or so days on the trip will be interstate again as we wrap things up and head for home.
We will visit the Grand Coulee Dam in Washington and the Hungry Horse Dam in Montana. The Going to the Sun Road through Glacier National Park, which finally opened on June 18 after 35+ inches of snow that fell after Memorial Day, should prove to be a fantastic ride and I am hoping that much of that snow still blankets the slopes along the road as we pass through. We'll stay in Montana to ride the famous Beartooth Highway, a route we took two years ago although this time we'll head over the 10,500 foot pass in the opposite direction we took back then.
From there, we will head into Cody, WY over the Chief Joseph Highway, a highly rated scenic byway. After hanging out where Buffalo Bill Cody called home for a few hours, we head east on US-14 through the Bighorn Mountains in Wyoming. The last of the scenic routes will take us into the Black Hills of South Dakota where we will enjoy some awesome roads without all of the crowds that the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally brings.
That is where to road trip really ends, although we will still need to hit the interstate for about 3 days until we arrive home. There will be, hopefully, enough time to stop and vist the Harley-Davidson Museum in Milwaukee before I have to be back at the desk in my office later in July.
5300+ miles of smiles...
The first part of the trip will be uneventful, as we will have to hop on the interstate and ride nearly 2250 miles over five or six days in order to get to the Columbia River Gorge, which runs along Oregons northern border with the state of Washington. Then, it will 7 or eight days of riding some awesome motorcycling roads through some of the most beautiful places in our western states. The last three or so days on the trip will be interstate again as we wrap things up and head for home.
We will visit the Grand Coulee Dam in Washington and the Hungry Horse Dam in Montana. The Going to the Sun Road through Glacier National Park, which finally opened on June 18 after 35+ inches of snow that fell after Memorial Day, should prove to be a fantastic ride and I am hoping that much of that snow still blankets the slopes along the road as we pass through. We'll stay in Montana to ride the famous Beartooth Highway, a route we took two years ago although this time we'll head over the 10,500 foot pass in the opposite direction we took back then.
From there, we will head into Cody, WY over the Chief Joseph Highway, a highly rated scenic byway. After hanging out where Buffalo Bill Cody called home for a few hours, we head east on US-14 through the Bighorn Mountains in Wyoming. The last of the scenic routes will take us into the Black Hills of South Dakota where we will enjoy some awesome roads without all of the crowds that the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally brings.
That is where to road trip really ends, although we will still need to hit the interstate for about 3 days until we arrive home. There will be, hopefully, enough time to stop and vist the Harley-Davidson Museum in Milwaukee before I have to be back at the desk in my office later in July.
5300+ miles of smiles...
Are You Crazy?
That has been the number one question I receive whenever I tell someone (and I WILL tell anyone who wants to listen) about the annual road trips I have taken on my Harley since 2002. I guess if you are asking, you wouldn't understand. But, I'll try to articulate as best as I can and maybe you'll start to get a grasp on why I indulge in such 'crazy' adventures...
It all started back in 1990, when my brother had asked me to drive him out to the repair shop so that he could retrieve his 1985 Softtail Classic that had undergone, I am assuming here, some sort of repair.
But something happened as I watched my brother strap on his helmet (he was, afterall, riding over to mom's house) and throw his leg over the saddle of his newly fixed Softtail Classic. As I followed him down an old country road, my mind began to wander. I thought about the sensations that he must be experiencing. I wondered if he was smiling. As soon as he finished his ride, I asked him to help me find a used bike so I could determine if riding was something I could enjoy. Two weeks later, I was the proud owner of a 1971 XLCH Sportster model.
Had I stuck with riding the Sportster for too long, I don't think that I would be writing this today. The motor is bolted directly to the frame and every time I went for a ride, a screw or two would vibrate loose and pieces would start flying of off the bike. If I rode too long, the fillings in the back of my mouth would start to fall out. It was a kick-start only and most times the bike would kick back. And, although the 'H' in XLCH stood for 'high performance', there wasn't much performance at all in this bike. It certainly wasn't the type of bike that I would think about taking on a very long road trip.
In 2001, I upgraded my ride to a 1999 FLHR Road King. That is when riding took on a whole new meaning for me. I began to set a week or two or three aside each year to set out to some destination. My first ride was to the northeast, and was really just a search for a long lost love of mine. While the girl wasn't found, I did find a new love. Long distance riding. Something about getting on some lonely country road to anywhere, with nothing but your thoughts and beautiful scenery for hours on end really did appeal to me. With the exception of 2005, over the next ten years I would seek out a destination and head out with my camping gear strapped to the Road King and, later, a new Electra Glide Ultra Classic.
At first, I was going solo. Not because I was being antisocial; it is hard to be antisocial on a cross country trek on a motorcycle. It is amazing to me how so many people are interested in the trips I have taken. Complete strangers are willing to make you a breakfast, serve you a cup of coffee, or even lend you a spare bedroom in exchange for hearing your story. Other bikers offer up their favorite routes as you ride through their neck of the woods. You would have to try real hard to be antisocial on a bike. The reason I started riding these trips alone is really quite simple. Those who I have ridden with locally all thought I was crazy!
Eventually one, then two, then more riders decided they would join me. While I do enjoy the solo trips, I think that having others travel with you is much more rewarding. I think that has something to do with the camaraderie that bikers have. You have someone to share the memories with and believe me, when the snow is deep in the winter, reminiscing about the road trip you took a few years back really does ease the depression.
Most years, I begin planning the year's trip in January. I usually pick a destination that has some sort of historical or geologically significance and then determine how to get there, preferably on the back roads. Throw in some research on the areas that will be travelled and before I know it, I have spent an inordinate amount of time planning a trip and then begin building a large amount of anticipation. I find the entire cycle a bit curious, since I never really had much of a desire for history when I was growing up. Now, I can't seem to get enough of it. Go figure...
Add to the mix that we have an absolutely beautiful country! You can summit mountains at over 12,000 feet in the Rocky Mountains National Park and cruise inches above the water on your way to Key West, Florida. There is nothing prettier than riding into the sunset (or sunrise) over the prairies in the high plains of Iowa or the high coastal cliffs along the shores in Maine. Riding past cacti or petrified trees through the tortured deserts in the southwest is awe-inspiring. Sure, you can do all of that in an automobile with climate control. But, there is so much that you'll miss if you do. You never smell the salt air along the coast the way you will on a motorcycle. You won't feel the temperature swings as you round the back side of a mountain pass. You have a 180-degree, unobstructed view of what this country has to offer. And you will never feel the fatigue that comes with riding in an enclosed vehicle.
So, that is why I have chosen to spend my annual vacation days in the saddle of my Harley. I love putting on the leathers for a ride in the crisp morning air and start peeling away layers as the rays of sunlight warm my skin. Generally, from sun up until sundown I ride. For days on end.
Yes, I am crazy. I am crazy about the joy that my motorcycle gives me!
It all started back in 1990, when my brother had asked me to drive him out to the repair shop so that he could retrieve his 1985 Softtail Classic that had undergone, I am assuming here, some sort of repair.
"Sure", I replied. "But what is a Softtail Classic?"I had never thought much about motorcycling and never really had an opportunity to ride before, other than jumping hills in back of our house on a friend's 125 Kawasaki enduro when I was growing up. That was a good fifteen years prior to that trip to the repair shop with my brother and, after a failed attempt at earning a college degree followed by a 4-year stint in the US Navy, any itch I had for riding an 800-pound, 2-wheeled vehicle had long been left unscratched.
But something happened as I watched my brother strap on his helmet (he was, afterall, riding over to mom's house) and throw his leg over the saddle of his newly fixed Softtail Classic. As I followed him down an old country road, my mind began to wander. I thought about the sensations that he must be experiencing. I wondered if he was smiling. As soon as he finished his ride, I asked him to help me find a used bike so I could determine if riding was something I could enjoy. Two weeks later, I was the proud owner of a 1971 XLCH Sportster model.
Had I stuck with riding the Sportster for too long, I don't think that I would be writing this today. The motor is bolted directly to the frame and every time I went for a ride, a screw or two would vibrate loose and pieces would start flying of off the bike. If I rode too long, the fillings in the back of my mouth would start to fall out. It was a kick-start only and most times the bike would kick back. And, although the 'H' in XLCH stood for 'high performance', there wasn't much performance at all in this bike. It certainly wasn't the type of bike that I would think about taking on a very long road trip.
In 2001, I upgraded my ride to a 1999 FLHR Road King. That is when riding took on a whole new meaning for me. I began to set a week or two or three aside each year to set out to some destination. My first ride was to the northeast, and was really just a search for a long lost love of mine. While the girl wasn't found, I did find a new love. Long distance riding. Something about getting on some lonely country road to anywhere, with nothing but your thoughts and beautiful scenery for hours on end really did appeal to me. With the exception of 2005, over the next ten years I would seek out a destination and head out with my camping gear strapped to the Road King and, later, a new Electra Glide Ultra Classic.
At first, I was going solo. Not because I was being antisocial; it is hard to be antisocial on a cross country trek on a motorcycle. It is amazing to me how so many people are interested in the trips I have taken. Complete strangers are willing to make you a breakfast, serve you a cup of coffee, or even lend you a spare bedroom in exchange for hearing your story. Other bikers offer up their favorite routes as you ride through their neck of the woods. You would have to try real hard to be antisocial on a bike. The reason I started riding these trips alone is really quite simple. Those who I have ridden with locally all thought I was crazy!
Eventually one, then two, then more riders decided they would join me. While I do enjoy the solo trips, I think that having others travel with you is much more rewarding. I think that has something to do with the camaraderie that bikers have. You have someone to share the memories with and believe me, when the snow is deep in the winter, reminiscing about the road trip you took a few years back really does ease the depression.
Most years, I begin planning the year's trip in January. I usually pick a destination that has some sort of historical or geologically significance and then determine how to get there, preferably on the back roads. Throw in some research on the areas that will be travelled and before I know it, I have spent an inordinate amount of time planning a trip and then begin building a large amount of anticipation. I find the entire cycle a bit curious, since I never really had much of a desire for history when I was growing up. Now, I can't seem to get enough of it. Go figure...
Add to the mix that we have an absolutely beautiful country! You can summit mountains at over 12,000 feet in the Rocky Mountains National Park and cruise inches above the water on your way to Key West, Florida. There is nothing prettier than riding into the sunset (or sunrise) over the prairies in the high plains of Iowa or the high coastal cliffs along the shores in Maine. Riding past cacti or petrified trees through the tortured deserts in the southwest is awe-inspiring. Sure, you can do all of that in an automobile with climate control. But, there is so much that you'll miss if you do. You never smell the salt air along the coast the way you will on a motorcycle. You won't feel the temperature swings as you round the back side of a mountain pass. You have a 180-degree, unobstructed view of what this country has to offer. And you will never feel the fatigue that comes with riding in an enclosed vehicle.
So, that is why I have chosen to spend my annual vacation days in the saddle of my Harley. I love putting on the leathers for a ride in the crisp morning air and start peeling away layers as the rays of sunlight warm my skin. Generally, from sun up until sundown I ride. For days on end.
Yes, I am crazy. I am crazy about the joy that my motorcycle gives me!
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