Motorcycle Forum / General / Motorcycles / June 2007

Amazing how the temptation to hit 1000 miles disappears after so many
previous miles, huh?

Kudos to you.  That's a LOT of miles on a KLR.

Joe in Northern, NJ  -  V#8013-R

Currently Riding The "Mother Ship"
http://yunx.com/valk.htm

Ride a motorcycle in or near NJ?
http://tinyurl.com/5apkg

Damn!

I only did 550 and damn near died of heat stroke along the way.

BTW, I did the Utah 12 on the way home.  Man what a ride!

Nap done.

I am NOT a morning person. It's weird how people who are on vacation
still get up early enough to milk cows. So it wasn't unusual that I
was the last to leave the paradise that is the PCR, our appointed
Reeky convention center outside Moab. It was a little strange, the way
people had filtered off - some leaving in the dead of night, others
escaping at first light with no real group hugs and farewells. It was
down to me and Dexter the cat. He really seemed forelorn that we were
all going. I sure was. It's a nice place with a lot more to explore
than we had time to do.

I hit the road a few minutes after Lyle and caught up with him at the
first construction site. We rode together until Blanding, where we
made our final farewells. The plan was to head due South, then cut
over to Flagstaff and ride the same roads through Sedona and Prescott
that Thumper & I had ridden earlier.

Don talked about being in a zone - where you felt you could ride
forever. For me, yesterday's ride wasn't so much being in a zone, but
being a zombie. Even with a cup of Thumper's good coffee, I wasn't
awake yet. I stopped at Mexican Water for breakfast and fell asleep at
the table. Some mediocre huevos rancheros and the strong coffee the
nice Navaho waitress poured got me going, though. By then, it was
already hot. Much of the day was spent in 100+ degree weather. One
thing about the entire northeast quarter of Arizona - there is no
shade. Really. I rode forever looking for a tree to park under and
rest. Nada. The only shade in that part of the world is at gas
stations covering the pump slabs. No overpasses, no awnings, no trees,
zilch. Hundreds of miles with nothing. The droning vibration of the
bike and intense, incessant heat in the barren, mindnumbingly boring
landscape drove me bonkers. I considered doing a head-on into a semi
just to alleviate the pain.

It was about that time that it hit me. Ahead was far more of the same.
From Congress, Arizona, to Ocotillo, California is nothing but dumb,
excruciatingly boring desert. Why should I spend the night in Prescott
and face that in the daytime? I could just press on and get through it
in at night in one long ride. Heh.

The stretch of Arizona 89 from Flagstaff to Congress is one of my
favorite roads. There are at least 4 long sections that are just a gas
to ride. Some real twisties, a lot of fun sweepers and an
unpredictable trajectory on good, clean road surface. All that and a
few interesting towns, too. Sedona is shot to hell, though. It used to
be a fun place, but it's far too crowded with tourists and nouveau
riche retirees now. Jerome, in spite of its touristy fell, is still
funky. All the old whorehouses have turned into boutiques and antique
stores, but they're still staffed with sweet young things as in the
old days. I stopped in Prescott to eat at 129 1/2 . It's a jazz
restaurant that serves _great_ food. I'd eaten there on the way up and
wanted more. The seared ahi with bok choy, mango chunk sauce and a
black grain was delicious. Their mango marscapone mousse in a filo
dough shell with a chardonney cream sauce is unbelievable. I've never
had a desert like it. The jazz trio played mellow dinner jazz, but the
guitarist showed flashes of brilliance, in a Coryell sort of way.
Afterward, I walked around and found a  rock band playing in the
courthouse park. Prescott is a cool town - an Arizona Asheville, if
you will. I had more thoughts about spending another night there, but
then I thought about the desert below.

It was just sunset when I left with plenty of light. The road south is
a long stretch of fast turns going down the mountain. I was taking it
easy, thinking about the guy who told me about 4 bikers who'd been
taken out by one passing truck a few days ago. Then I saw the little
sports sedan that came up behind me. Obviously someone who knows the
road better than I.  I love chasing "rabbits."  They run interference
for you and show you the way at night. The most important thing for a
rabbit, though, is pace. They have to set a good pace. I let this
rabbit past, and it took off. I kept it about 10 car lengths ahead of
me. Where I was averaging ~50-55, it was doing ~60, seldom braking.
Nice bunny. It finally pulled into a church parking lot.

From Yarnell, the road drops down to the desert in a fun roller
coaster ride. From there on, it's all straight flat roads. When I got
to Congress, the last light was fading. The fun was over. Just
focussing on the white dotted line, I'd shift positions to move the
pain from one butt to the other, or shake out my one free hand. And
curse the a.sholes who refuse to dim their high beams. My next bike
will have two add-ons: a Throttlemeister and PIAAs. I'm fed up with
these inconsiderate bozos. I will flash them twice, asking nicely if
they will turn down the lights, Then, they will understand what it
means to face high beams. I will singe their eyebrows, I will wrinkle
their paint, I will illuminate the landscape like daytime on the
planet of Scorch. I think at least two sets of PIAAs. One for normal
nighttime back-country riding. Another set aimed at a point ~150 yards
away, where an oncoming driver's eyes would be.

I gassed up in Yuma and had a green Monster energy drink, but that
wasn't really necessary. It was after midnight, but I was more awake,
more alert than at 10 o'clock in the morning. Day people, huh. Finally
made it back to San Diego County. Almost home. but there was one last
adventure. The county line passes through In-Ko-Pah gorge. that's a
steep stretch of Interstate 8 that's as close as Interstates get to a
twistie road. It's also a wind tunnel. The road climbs from 500' to
3200' and there are sometimes gusting winds that can turn over semi
trailers and shove a motorcycle 10' sideways in an instant. It was
howling. I hunkered down and persevered. Thank Ged there was no
traffic. The only time on the whole trip where it really seemed scary.
At the top, the weather turned. For the first time in a week, it was
cold. After so much sweat, it was freezing. At Yuma, the low
temperature last night was 80 degrees. This was like 50. I pulled over
to put on more clothes and discovered that my tank bag had been ripped
open by the wind. The map case was gone and my journal had
disappeared. That's the big loss on the trip. It had reports and names
and contact info from at least 3 other trips. Oh well. Other than
that, I made it home safe, sound, and absolutely ecstatic to have been
able to join the other Reekyites on this adventure.

(But FWIW, Whoever decided this meet should be in late June should
have his/her brain fillited and fricasseed, because it was the _wrong_
time to schedule this romp in the Great Sonoran Desert. Let's do it
again, say, in April.)

Pthhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

I'm sitting in a room in Council Bluffs, IA after three back to back
days well in excess of 500 miles each, with two more to come.  I
shoulda just stayed there in Utah.  ;)  Mark was a trooper yesterday,
putting up with me pushing us on to Douglas, WY and finding the very
last available room in the entire area.  Same damn thing happened
today for me.  I get into IA and the College World Series is here.
Last room in the area cost me $139 plus tax.  Aughhhhhhh!