Tubing Across America
Day 9 - June 23rd, 2010
Today started like pretty much every other day in that I woke up reasonably early, although I skipped breakfast this time.
My first stop of the day came about from the motel operator the evening before. He had asked how long I was in town for and when I told him I was passing through on my way to Grand Canyon, he highly recommended that I spend a little time at Horseshoe Bend - essentially the start of the Grand Canyon.
The pull off for this was only a few miles from town, so it wasn't a long ride and if it weren't for his suggestion I would have just passed on by.
I pulled into the parking lot probably somewhere around 7:30am, and as you can expect, there was no one else there. I decided to leave my suit on as it looked like a short hike up a small hill.
It wasn't.
It was already pretty hot, the sun beating down, and once I reached the crest of the hill, I saw it was more like a half mile walk, up and down hill, mostly in soft sand. Oh well, no sense in turning back at this point.
Some shots along the path...
My first stop of the day came about from the motel operator the evening before. He had asked how long I was in town for and when I told him I was passing through on my way to Grand Canyon, he highly recommended that I spend a little time at Horseshoe Bend - essentially the start of the Grand Canyon.
The pull off for this was only a few miles from town, so it wasn't a long ride and if it weren't for his suggestion I would have just passed on by.
I pulled into the parking lot probably somewhere around 7:30am, and as you can expect, there was no one else there. I decided to leave my suit on as it looked like a short hike up a small hill.
It wasn't.
It was already pretty hot, the sun beating down, and once I reached the crest of the hill, I saw it was more like a half mile walk, up and down hill, mostly in soft sand. Oh well, no sense in turning back at this point.
Some shots along the path...
Note the scale - you can see how small the path is in the distance in the lower right corner.
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As soon as I reached the ledge, it was quickly apparent that the walk was worth it.
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The view looking down - no guard rails here.
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The scale is just HUGE
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I sat around a bit, peered over the edge enough times to feel mortal, took some photos and headed back.
From the top of the first hill heading back to the parking lot (some other visitors had shown up by this point, bike is on the right of the parking lot).
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This is one my favorite shots of the S3T.
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At this point I was sufficiently sweating my balls off and immediately realized that I was traveling through the desert with no friggin' water. None.
I was feeling brave so I nutted up and got back on the bike and pressed on.
I was feeling brave so I nutted up and got back on the bike and pressed on.
The scenery from here was MUCH better than I had seen roadside thus far in Arizona.
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I stopped for gas just past the bridge in this photo.
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Just passed the bridge you see in the above photo I stopped for gas, stocked up on water and ate a fantastic breakfast of granola bars and Swedish Fish. When I came out of the store a burly looking dude on a Harley was gassing up and began making small talk. His wife walked up soon after and she was alarmed at the fact I had ridden from NY all the way to AZ (and going further) - she asked if it was something I read about in a book. These guys were pretty entertaining, and we chatted about the kinds of places we all grew up, riding with gear despite the heat and other random topics. They were looking for a real breakfast and I was looking to get moving again so we parted ways.
The road was straight from here, but I got a good stretch of twistys heading up in elevation and was reminded of the guys I talked to in Utah who mentioned that the roads heading into the North Rim were pretty good provided there wasn't any traffic. There wasn't. Life is good.
Now pay attention because things change fast here...
The road was straight from here, but I got a good stretch of twistys heading up in elevation and was reminded of the guys I talked to in Utah who mentioned that the roads heading into the North Rim were pretty good provided there wasn't any traffic. There wasn't. Life is good.
Now pay attention because things change fast here...
All of the sudden, you're in the middle of a pine forest.
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And just as quickly, that pine forest is all burned up.
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And then grassy meadows.
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It really felt like I was thousands of miles east. By this point the air had enough of a chill in it that I had to close up all of the vents on my suit just to be comfortable. It was a beautiful ride into the North Rim both from scenery and good sweepers.
I parked the bike and headed to the EDGE... The Grand Canyon is ABSOLUTELY FREAKING HUGE. The distance and height we're dealing with here was literally only matched by the Rocky Mountains. In fact, it was so deep that at no point was I able to see the Colorado River at the bottom.
I parked the bike and headed to the EDGE... The Grand Canyon is ABSOLUTELY FREAKING HUGE. The distance and height we're dealing with here was literally only matched by the Rocky Mountains. In fact, it was so deep that at no point was I able to see the Colorado River at the bottom.
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The historic lodge at the rim.
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I had ventured onto some of the paths you could walk on and out on the ledges that they allowed you to be on - which meant the views were hindered by fences, guard rails and, worst of all, people. So when I saw a small, narrow and challenging half-assed attempt at a path which led to an unofficial outlook point with none of the hinderances of the others, I jumped at the chance.
My private ledge.
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Coming out of the bushes, I noticed I'd have some company.
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Arms-length away.
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Some random scenic photos:
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Another private ledge - I realized I cell signal here and made a call to my honey - totally surreal.
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All in all, I spent nearly two hours here - much longer than I had figured on. I didn't regret any of it.
Heading back to the bike, I noticed a not-so-talkative owner of a Uly sharing my parking spot. We talked a little, mostly about the bikes, before he headed out. I was having another snack and getting some water in me and within minutes another bike pulled into my spot: the same couple on the Harley from earlier that morning! So, of course, we talked again for a while - this time it was mostly with the wife who wanted me to show off pictures of my girlfriend, and I proudly obliged. She asked how much I was being charged to have such a fine specimen hang out with me since it couldn't have been voluntary.
I packed it up and headed back out - some more traffic this time, but nothing I couldn't make quick work of. A quick stop for lunch at a cafe, some gas and a little top off of the oil and it was westward once again.
Heading back to the bike, I noticed a not-so-talkative owner of a Uly sharing my parking spot. We talked a little, mostly about the bikes, before he headed out. I was having another snack and getting some water in me and within minutes another bike pulled into my spot: the same couple on the Harley from earlier that morning! So, of course, we talked again for a while - this time it was mostly with the wife who wanted me to show off pictures of my girlfriend, and I proudly obliged. She asked how much I was being charged to have such a fine specimen hang out with me since it couldn't have been voluntary.
I packed it up and headed back out - some more traffic this time, but nothing I couldn't make quick work of. A quick stop for lunch at a cafe, some gas and a little top off of the oil and it was westward once again.
Gas station in Mesquite and a view of the Sierras (I think).
By this point it was mid-afternoon and hot as balls out. Recalling some things I had read about riding in hot weather, I made a stop to soak my t-shirt in water.
Ahh. Much better. But wait, 20 minutes down the road and I was bone dry. It was that hot and that dry out. Next stop I soaked it real good and closed up all the vents - not as cool but much more tolerable and things stayed comfortable for longer.
I would head up into St. George, UT, then back to cut the corner of AZ before crossing into Nevada at Mesquite.
Ahh. Much better. But wait, 20 minutes down the road and I was bone dry. It was that hot and that dry out. Next stop I soaked it real good and closed up all the vents - not as cool but much more tolerable and things stayed comfortable for longer.
I would head up into St. George, UT, then back to cut the corner of AZ before crossing into Nevada at Mesquite.
Still hot as hell, but finally I could see my destination for the night - LAS VAGAS!!!
Hmm... not as great as I'd thought - busy, lots of people, smells like a big dirty city. Anyway, stopped for gas and called around for a room and found the best deal at the Stratosphere.
Hmm... not as great as I'd thought - busy, lots of people, smells like a big dirty city. Anyway, stopped for gas and called around for a room and found the best deal at the Stratosphere.
View from my room.
After having to park my bike in the garage and lug all my stuff through the casino to my room, I went out for an evening stroll down the strip. As soon as I left my hotel I noticed a guy jumping from the tower:
JUMP!
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Bummer, no splattage today.
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Now, at this point let me point out the major difference between Las Vegas and most other destinations I've had on this trip.
When you enter Custer State Park, you pay $6 a get a map.
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When you enter Rocky Mountain National Park, you pay $10 and get a map.
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When you enter Grand Canyon National Park, you pay $12 and get a map.
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When you get to Las Vegas, however, you pay the homeless lady 75 cents and you get a parking ticket and a pile of catalogues for prostitutes.
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Instead of scenic vistas and wildlife, you get things like this.
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...and this
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...and for the BadWeB crowd.
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Okay, but seriously, Vegas is a neat town. I walked just about the entire length of the strip and got some nice shots.
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Dream cars for rent.
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After getting back to the hotel, I went up to the observation deck.
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Accommodations for the night.
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By this point it was late and I was beat - as much as I wanted to stay up and see more of the town, I knew I needed to head out painfully early in the morning to avoid passing through Death Valley in the middle of the afternoon. So I packed it in and got some needed shut eye. Tomorrow I would reach my final destination - San Dimas, CA.
Day 10 - June 24th, 2010
Ugh... I did not get going as early as I would have liked this morning. I was shooting to be awake by 4am, but that was pushed to more like 5:15 and I was on the road by 6 (I think, hard to recall at this point). It was great walking through the casino so early in the morning to find people sitting around gambling still. I should come back with friends at some point - I can see having a real good time here.
Packing up the bike got me my required cardio for the day since I was parked so far away from my room and it took a few trips to get everything down. The weather was comfortable right now and I headed south out of town and rode the entire length of the strip. Things were noticeably quieter than last night, but there were many more cops about detaining people on the sidewalks. I'm fairly certain this is a regular occurrence in this town.
Packing up the bike got me my required cardio for the day since I was parked so far away from my room and it took a few trips to get everything down. The weather was comfortable right now and I headed south out of town and rode the entire length of the strip. Things were noticeably quieter than last night, but there were many more cops about detaining people on the sidewalks. I'm fairly certain this is a regular occurrence in this town.
The scenery just outside of Vegas is great, and there are some mildly entertaining roads to be has as well.
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However, it didn't take long before I would find myself in the most baron and desolate area I had been in to date. There was NOTHING here, not even another car. NOTHING:
Fairly certain I could do whatever I wanted out here and no one would ever know about it.
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There was so much NOTHING that when I crossed into California, the only way of knowing was by watching the little blue arrow cross the dotted line on Gretchen's screen. I have never crossed a state line and not seen a sign welcoming me. But here, there was none.
I was getting some miles on the tank and was looking for a place to rest, grab some breakfast and fuel up since I got the sneaking suspicion that gas stations would be few and far between out here. I passed through 3 towns which all looked to be abandoned. Granted, it was still early in the morning, but it was a weekday. There were houses, cars, businesses, but everything was silent. No movement from anything, like everyone had just left the night before. Maybe they're all in Vegas. Three towns, all silent and none having gas. Uh oh. Thankfully I did come across one about 100 miles from Las Vegas - the longest I had gone on this trip without seeing gas.
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Gas was expensive here - well over $4.00/gal if I remember right. The only motion, the only sound in the entire town was the store clerk talking to a couple of guys about boxing or something. Everything else was dead. I was hoping to grab some breakfast at the cafe across the street but it was closed, so I headed into the store and got a pastry and Swedish Fish. I loves me them Swedish Fish in da mornin'.
When I was being rung out, I made a comment to the clerk along the lines of, "There ain't a whole hell of a lot out here, is there." She laughed and said, "Nope, where you headed to?"
"Death Valley."
"Yeah, there ain't gonna be much more until you get there, either."
Kinda cool, kinda disturbing.
I took off and the scenery was getting better and better and before I knew it I was on the heels of Death Valley.
When I was being rung out, I made a comment to the clerk along the lines of, "There ain't a whole hell of a lot out here, is there." She laughed and said, "Nope, where you headed to?"
"Death Valley."
"Yeah, there ain't gonna be much more until you get there, either."
Kinda cool, kinda disturbing.
I took off and the scenery was getting better and better and before I knew it I was on the heels of Death Valley.
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I stopped at a pull-off to check out some of the scenery and this time, having learned from my little hike the day prior, I immediately stripped out of my riding suit despite the hill I needed to climb looking unintimidating. It was 9:00am by this point and I'm guessing it was over 90 degrees already.
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Foreigners all up in my sheet.
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As I pressed onward I got a kick out of watching Gretchen's info screen inform me of my elevation. Sure enough, I found this. Please note that the road goes DOWN from here.
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Soon enough I reached a new elevation record, both for this trip and for me in general - Hard to read, but I'm at 243 feet below sea level.
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and this is what was there.
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The last photo I took during the ride.
I then began to gain elevation and rise out of the valley. There were some fantastic roads here (though they're not shown in the picture).
And that's the last photo I took on my ride that day. After this, believe it or not, it got even MORE desolate than it was before Death Valley. I'd ride down a straight road for what seemed like weeks, come to a mountain pass,, have a little stretch of good riding, and then when I got to the other side I would see the road continuing straight for MILES down in the valley.
There were even INTERSECTIONS! WTF. I'm having a real hard time understanding why the road I'm on is even here, but another road? Really?
I don't think I can effectively get across what it felt like to be here. No towns. No cars. No people. No traffic. I did 100 mph for 30 minutes and only slowed down because I got bored.
As I headed south, civilization started to pop up somewhat. I was able to find a place to get gas and rest up a little, and not far from there I'd find myself on a main road. I forget the number but it was a frustrating road for me. There was as much nothing as before, but TONS of traffic (for this kind of place). Slow moving trucks I needed to get around, slow moving cars, I even saw a Jeep flat towing a Ford Ranger with a cast-iron bath tub full of hay in the bed.
I found myself getting frustrated, anxious and annoyed and I decided I better take an impromptu lunch stop to just let myself settle down.
DEL TACO! WAY better than Taco Bell.
Anyways, the stop was uneventful so I pressed on. I was feeing better and actually felt a little relieved when I got on the highway. I think it was the combination of knowing I was close and being able to move along at a good pace.
After I took my exit and made a couple of wrong turns, I found my destination in San Dimas, California. I would be staying with Asbjorn (Doerman here on the board).
And that's the last photo I took on my ride that day. After this, believe it or not, it got even MORE desolate than it was before Death Valley. I'd ride down a straight road for what seemed like weeks, come to a mountain pass,, have a little stretch of good riding, and then when I got to the other side I would see the road continuing straight for MILES down in the valley.
There were even INTERSECTIONS! WTF. I'm having a real hard time understanding why the road I'm on is even here, but another road? Really?
I don't think I can effectively get across what it felt like to be here. No towns. No cars. No people. No traffic. I did 100 mph for 30 minutes and only slowed down because I got bored.
As I headed south, civilization started to pop up somewhat. I was able to find a place to get gas and rest up a little, and not far from there I'd find myself on a main road. I forget the number but it was a frustrating road for me. There was as much nothing as before, but TONS of traffic (for this kind of place). Slow moving trucks I needed to get around, slow moving cars, I even saw a Jeep flat towing a Ford Ranger with a cast-iron bath tub full of hay in the bed.
I found myself getting frustrated, anxious and annoyed and I decided I better take an impromptu lunch stop to just let myself settle down.
DEL TACO! WAY better than Taco Bell.
Anyways, the stop was uneventful so I pressed on. I was feeing better and actually felt a little relieved when I got on the highway. I think it was the combination of knowing I was close and being able to move along at a good pace.
After I took my exit and made a couple of wrong turns, I found my destination in San Dimas, California. I would be staying with Asbjorn (Doerman here on the board).
The view from Asbjorn's house (note, not HIS house).
And then no more photos for today. After getting in and settling down and shooting the breeze for a bit, we headed to a local Mexican restaurant to hang out and get some drinks. Feeling pretty good, we headed back to Asbjorn's where he made an AMAZING meal - tri tip on the grill, a fancy salad, I think there were potatoes involved, and beer. Oh yeah, and a shot of Irish Whiskey for desert.
I think I was going to like to like it here.
A bit more drinking, the best cup of coffee in my life (I still need to buy a french press) and a lengthy, half-in-the-bag conversation about music and it was time for bed. To the surprise of both of us, I had managed to stay up past 4:00pm.
It felt good to know I was somewhere I would be staying for a couple days. No more traveling, just enjoying where I was and the company of a new friend.
Off to bed. Tomorrow would be exciting!
I think I was going to like to like it here.
A bit more drinking, the best cup of coffee in my life (I still need to buy a french press) and a lengthy, half-in-the-bag conversation about music and it was time for bed. To the surprise of both of us, I had managed to stay up past 4:00pm.
It felt good to know I was somewhere I would be staying for a couple days. No more traveling, just enjoying where I was and the company of a new friend.
Off to bed. Tomorrow would be exciting!
Day 11 - June 25th, 2010
Finally a day to sleep in! We got rolling a little later than planned this morning, but no one cared - it was time for me to (mostly) relax and just enjoy where I was.
Asbjorn topped his performance the evening before with a fantastic breakfast and some more of that incredible coffee. Seriously, this guy can cook.
We took our time getting ready for the ride that day. We hung around the house a little in the morning and I started to get the bike shipment in order making arrangements with the carrier. Good news! It would cost about $167 LESS than I was figuring on! That made my day.
We got suited up and set out. Asbjorn was kind enough to let me take one of his bikes today and I elected to ride his 1125R while he rode his Firebolt. A quick stop for gas and we were headed into the mountains.
Asbjorn is a FAST rider - I mean, this guy is GOOD. Granted, he knows his bikes and these roads like probably no one else, but he just looked effortless. I can't think of a single person I've ridden with (no offense to anyone else here on BadWeB) who is as fast as this guy on the street.
We were three or four turns into the hills and that was the last I'd see of Asbjorn until I came up to him waiting for me at a pull off.
Asbjorn topped his performance the evening before with a fantastic breakfast and some more of that incredible coffee. Seriously, this guy can cook.
We took our time getting ready for the ride that day. We hung around the house a little in the morning and I started to get the bike shipment in order making arrangements with the carrier. Good news! It would cost about $167 LESS than I was figuring on! That made my day.
We got suited up and set out. Asbjorn was kind enough to let me take one of his bikes today and I elected to ride his 1125R while he rode his Firebolt. A quick stop for gas and we were headed into the mountains.
Asbjorn is a FAST rider - I mean, this guy is GOOD. Granted, he knows his bikes and these roads like probably no one else, but he just looked effortless. I can't think of a single person I've ridden with (no offense to anyone else here on BadWeB) who is as fast as this guy on the street.
We were three or four turns into the hills and that was the last I'd see of Asbjorn until I came up to him waiting for me at a pull off.
The views here are incredible, and only 20 minutes from his house.
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We continued up and I was getting a little more "in the groove" on the bike. I was still in "touring mode" after 4,000 miles of doing just that, so it was an adjustment for me to switch into sporting mode, in addition to getting myself acquainted with Asbjorn's 1125R (which felt VERY different than my 1125CR, remarkable, really) as well as these roads - we have curvy roads where I am, but NOTHING like this. In fact, I'd vote that these are on par with Suches, except the weather, at any given time, is always better here.
We continued up as far as we could go until the road was closed. I guess the road was washed out some years ago and just never repaired.
We continued up as far as we could go until the road was closed. I guess the road was washed out some years ago and just never repaired.
I think this is a yucca plant. Asbjorn said they sprout this top right before they die. I could be making that up.
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Asbjorn's favorite riding bike is the blue Firebolt. The black 1125R is my loaner from him for the day.
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We hit the restrooms here, turned around and made a stop at a local cafe to get something to drink, and then we were off again.
The road turned to one-lane affair with some debris here and there, but I was really starting to get into a groove. I was feeling good, the bike was feeling good beneath me and I was really enjoying myself.
Now, at this point, let's remember Asbjorn's hospitality thus far... He's offered his home to me, a complete stranger. Cooked two fabulous meals. Refused to let me pay for my drinks the night before. Allowed me to use one of his bikes for today's ride. Offered to help me with getting my bike on the truck for the shipper. Just an ideal host. So I repaid him the only way I knew how:
The road turned to one-lane affair with some debris here and there, but I was really starting to get into a groove. I was feeling good, the bike was feeling good beneath me and I was really enjoying myself.
Now, at this point, let's remember Asbjorn's hospitality thus far... He's offered his home to me, a complete stranger. Cooked two fabulous meals. Refused to let me pay for my drinks the night before. Allowed me to use one of his bikes for today's ride. Offered to help me with getting my bike on the truck for the shipper. Just an ideal host. So I repaid him the only way I knew how:
I threw his bike into a pile of rocks.
Gravel in the road coupled with over-confidence and some bad decisions on my part resulted in an easy low-side. After I got done cursing and yelling, I picked the bike up and crossed my fingers it would start, all the while feeling like a total ASS**** for wrecking this guy's bike. Asbjorn seemed a little surprised that I had crashed, but not all that upset (I hope he really wasn't and not just putting on a face for me...).
We took an easy ride to a place to get some lunch and went over the damage. Looks like I'd owe him a pod cover and a fairing stay. Funny - with shipping, both items would run about $167 from Erik Buell Racing. I broke even! Better odds than Vegas!
Lunch was pretty good, and once again, Asbjorn refused to let me pay for anything claiming I already had an expensive day - I was still a little shaky but Asbjorn assured me it was no big deal and he wasn't upset, and in fact seemed more bothered that I was bothered than about his bike.
Gravel in the road coupled with over-confidence and some bad decisions on my part resulted in an easy low-side. After I got done cursing and yelling, I picked the bike up and crossed my fingers it would start, all the while feeling like a total ASS**** for wrecking this guy's bike. Asbjorn seemed a little surprised that I had crashed, but not all that upset (I hope he really wasn't and not just putting on a face for me...).
We took an easy ride to a place to get some lunch and went over the damage. Looks like I'd owe him a pod cover and a fairing stay. Funny - with shipping, both items would run about $167 from Erik Buell Racing. I broke even! Better odds than Vegas!
Lunch was pretty good, and once again, Asbjorn refused to let me pay for anything claiming I already had an expensive day - I was still a little shaky but Asbjorn assured me it was no big deal and he wasn't upset, and in fact seemed more bothered that I was bothered than about his bike.
Flora at the lunch table.
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Wildlife at the lunch table.
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From here we rode back to his place to unwind and began searching for an ordering the parts needed to repair his bike. These things crash really well...
We headed back to the Mexican joint for some drinks (which I was still not allowed to pay for) and then relocated to a friend of Asbjorn's Italian eatery for dinner, where I was assured I could pay for a meal. The owner welcomed me to California with complimentary salad and a desert and the food was just great. At one point, Asbjorn excused himself from our table out on the sidewalk and I had a few minutes to myself to just take the town in. I had loved every place I had been to on this trip and would willingly visit every one of them again. But this was the first place where I felt like I could live where I was visiting. California isn't what many people, including me, expect. There aren't as many weirdos as I imagined - it was just like anywhere else, just prettier and less rain, and San Dimas was a nice, quiet town.
Asbjorn came back in time to eat desert and after some waiting I had noticed a check never came, so I excused myself to go inside to pay. I could tell from his grin that Asbjorn was up to something.
"There's no check", he says.
That son-of-a-bish paid when he went inside! I toss his friggin' bike in the weeds and this guy is still an unimaginably awesome host.
We headed back to the Mexican place for some more drinks and watch a local band play. They were pretty good, I got pretty drunk and proceeded to make a fool of myself on the dance floor until the place was closing up. I forget what time it was, but it had to have been 2am or later when we got back to the house, where I thought it a good idea to call my girlfriend back east, where it was at least 5:00am. Turns out it wasn't that good of an idea. At least she told me the next day that it was kind of cute, albeit at the WRONG time.
It didn't take long for us to retire to our respective sleeping quarters and hit the sack.
Highs and lows, this day had it all. California is great and I wasn't looking forward to tomorrow being my last day here.
We headed back to the Mexican joint for some drinks (which I was still not allowed to pay for) and then relocated to a friend of Asbjorn's Italian eatery for dinner, where I was assured I could pay for a meal. The owner welcomed me to California with complimentary salad and a desert and the food was just great. At one point, Asbjorn excused himself from our table out on the sidewalk and I had a few minutes to myself to just take the town in. I had loved every place I had been to on this trip and would willingly visit every one of them again. But this was the first place where I felt like I could live where I was visiting. California isn't what many people, including me, expect. There aren't as many weirdos as I imagined - it was just like anywhere else, just prettier and less rain, and San Dimas was a nice, quiet town.
Asbjorn came back in time to eat desert and after some waiting I had noticed a check never came, so I excused myself to go inside to pay. I could tell from his grin that Asbjorn was up to something.
"There's no check", he says.
That son-of-a-bish paid when he went inside! I toss his friggin' bike in the weeds and this guy is still an unimaginably awesome host.
We headed back to the Mexican place for some more drinks and watch a local band play. They were pretty good, I got pretty drunk and proceeded to make a fool of myself on the dance floor until the place was closing up. I forget what time it was, but it had to have been 2am or later when we got back to the house, where I thought it a good idea to call my girlfriend back east, where it was at least 5:00am. Turns out it wasn't that good of an idea. At least she told me the next day that it was kind of cute, albeit at the WRONG time.
It didn't take long for us to retire to our respective sleeping quarters and hit the sack.
Highs and lows, this day had it all. California is great and I wasn't looking forward to tomorrow being my last day here.
Day 12 - June 26th, 2010
This was my last day in California, and thanks to a 10:45pm departure flight it meant I had a full day there. The libations from the evening before didn't hit me as hard as I would have expected, but the pace this morning was none-the-less the slowest of any day on this journey. Breakfast was even better - I recall an herby-egg omelet, frittered potatoes, fresh fruit, toast, ham-wrapped cheese from the frying pan - just awesome.
The plan for the day was, in a roundabout way, the very last leg of my trip. We'd be hitting a few places in between, but the goal was to reach the Pacific, and as such no other bike but my own would suffice. Well, that and I didn't want to risk wrecking any more of Asbjorn's stuff.
Upon pulling the S3T out from the garage, I took this opportunity to outline what a coast-to-coast trip does to a motorcycle...
The plan for the day was, in a roundabout way, the very last leg of my trip. We'd be hitting a few places in between, but the goal was to reach the Pacific, and as such no other bike but my own would suffice. Well, that and I didn't want to risk wrecking any more of Asbjorn's stuff.
Upon pulling the S3T out from the garage, I took this opportunity to outline what a coast-to-coast trip does to a motorcycle...
15 states worth of wildlife.
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Only marginally squared-off tires (Pilot Road IIs are the BOMB).
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Caked on mud from Colorado road construction and South Dakota off-roading.
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Troubling but not detrimental oil leak.
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An important scribble mark.
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Some trip memorabilia that will stay on the bike until the weather removes it for me.
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Our first destination would be the Rock Store - a semi-famous motorcycle destination, though I don't really know why. The roads around the place are good, but other than that there's not much "motorcycle-specific" about it, but it sounded like a fun, landmark kind of a place frequented by celebrities so that's where we headed.
En route I got my first real taste of SoCal freeway riding - I had done some before, including a little lane splitting, but this was a whole nother story. It took a lot of mental convincing to tell myself that those W--I--D--E saddlebags behind me were no wider than the mirrors. Lane splitting while traffic was moving was neat - something new for me so it was a little exciting and added a new challenge to riding. When traffic was slow or stopped, however, it was a little stressful, but felt nice to still be moving. This was mentally tiring and by the time we got off the highway I was glad to do so.
The ride up to the Rock Store was nice - more traffic than yesterday, but the roads through the mountains here were none-the-less spectacular. The pace was much more relaxed than yesterday as well, I'm sure in part to my "event" and also because Asbjorn elected to bring along his S1, which I got the impression he loved more than any other of his bikes and he had affectionately named Elvira.
The place wasn't nearly as crowded as Asbjorn had expected, I think mostly due to a rather overcast looking morning (the first real clouds I had seen since Colorado, mind you) and cooler temps.
En route I got my first real taste of SoCal freeway riding - I had done some before, including a little lane splitting, but this was a whole nother story. It took a lot of mental convincing to tell myself that those W--I--D--E saddlebags behind me were no wider than the mirrors. Lane splitting while traffic was moving was neat - something new for me so it was a little exciting and added a new challenge to riding. When traffic was slow or stopped, however, it was a little stressful, but felt nice to still be moving. This was mentally tiring and by the time we got off the highway I was glad to do so.
The ride up to the Rock Store was nice - more traffic than yesterday, but the roads through the mountains here were none-the-less spectacular. The pace was much more relaxed than yesterday as well, I'm sure in part to my "event" and also because Asbjorn elected to bring along his S1, which I got the impression he loved more than any other of his bikes and he had affectionately named Elvira.
The place wasn't nearly as crowded as Asbjorn had expected, I think mostly due to a rather overcast looking morning (the first real clouds I had seen since Colorado, mind you) and cooler temps.
The Rock Store, and the only photo I have of Asbjorn (the bald guy talking with some Triumph riders about the Speed Triple in the foreground).
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We didn't stay long, and really didn't even check out the bikes - it was about riding today. Some more great roads through the mountains and we pulled over the moment you could see the Pacific in the distance.
Hard to see it, but that's the Pacific on the horizon.
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and from whence we came.
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Not much longer and we found ourselves in Santa Monica and pulled off at a public beach.
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I'm told the sky always looks like this until late afternoon this time of year.
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In the Pacific!
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A pretty pair.
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No mosquitos in California, but plenty of these guys.
We cruised down this section of 101 (the Pacific Coast Highway through this part) before diving back into the hills to find some lunch. After a failed attempt at a place that was unlocked but not open for business, we found a nice little cafe where we both had some Mexican fare. Most importantly, I paid! I'm not sure if Asbjorn changed his mind and decided I owed him something for ditching his bike or if he knew I just really wanted to treat him, but they took my card this time.
We headed back to the house, making a pit stop in Pasadena. I'm actually kind of glad we stopped here as I found main drag through town with the interesting motels and tall palm trees to fit that "typical" California town that I had stuck in my mind.
Back at the house I pretty much just got the bike and my things packed up for the journey home and took some time to relax with Asbjorn before we headed to the airport.
On the way, we made a dinner stop at my request:
Back at the house I pretty much just got the bike and my things packed up for the journey home and took some time to relax with Asbjorn before we headed to the airport.
On the way, we made a dinner stop at my request:
Accommodations for the night, the last of my trip
If anyone is curious, it's pretty much like a Five Guys but without bacon and a smaller menu.
We got to the airport and said our goodbyes. I was content with a handshake but Asbjorn wanted a bro hug, so that's what he got.
*DISCLAIMER*
A 'bro hug' is a hug between two males and which must include each participant in the hug patting the other participant three times on the back. Three times is essential as it translates to "I'm not gay." Any more or any less than three pats, or a hug lasting longer than is reasonably needed to complete three pats could possibly confuse the recipient of your intentions.
Like I said, Asbjorn and I bro hugged.
Things in the airport were a change of pace for me - for nearly two weeks I had been traveling at a relaxed pace and now I'm being shuffled through this line and that line. While waiting for my flight to board, I realized I left Gretchen on the sidewalk outside Asbjorn's house, and when he got home he was unable to find her. The love of my life... gone... because of a stupid oversight on my part. But alas, the day after my return home I'd get a phone call from a woman who found it and returned it to Asbjorn to put with the bike. Thank goodness.
This flight was crowded, and being at a big, major international airport is always a good way to people watch. I'll be keep my observations to myself, but they're damned funny.
I think I slept for some of the night, but not much. On my connection between Newark and Albany, I was hit on by a most fabulous flight attendant who reminded me of Bat Boy from the tabloids.
Anyways...
Eventually I'd find myself walking down the terminal and across security to the best welcoming party I could think of. My sweetie pie had even done herself up nice for my return and had a box of home-made cookies waiting for me in the car. We got home, zonked out for most of the day before I headed up to my mom's to pick up my dog.
Epic Journey. Over.
Now I know what I did, while daunting to many, is child's play to many as well. I was only on the road for 12 days where some are gone for weeks or months at a time. But I did what I could do with the time and funds I had to work with. And many "hardcore" tourers will tell you it takes almost three months just to get into a "travel" groove, but I got a taste of it. It was good to be home, and for the first day or so back things were exciting; to see people, my house, my dog, etc. But by the time I was back at work, real life, quite frankly, was a little depressing. All I could think about was the trip and how I wished I were still on it. Sitting on the stationary bike at the gym and looking at the little red L.E.D. graph thing on the screen just reminded me of the topography in Utah. I'll be honest - it wasn't anything I'd throw on a Coldplay album and cut my wrists over, but I felt a little depressed. Obviously it was to a much lesser extent, but the feeling was akin to losing a relative or a friend, in that a part of your life is now gone and can't be had again.
Except this can be had again, and I fully intend on doing more traveling as soon as my ass and my wallet recovers. I learned a lot (like not to pack as many clothes) and could definitely do this better next time (and maybe with some company?). Who knows what will be next - I'd still like to see Northern California, Yellowstone, the Tetons... we'll see. But I know I'll be out west again sometime soon, maybe with a bike, but maybe not.
Later, amigos.
We got to the airport and said our goodbyes. I was content with a handshake but Asbjorn wanted a bro hug, so that's what he got.
*DISCLAIMER*
A 'bro hug' is a hug between two males and which must include each participant in the hug patting the other participant three times on the back. Three times is essential as it translates to "I'm not gay." Any more or any less than three pats, or a hug lasting longer than is reasonably needed to complete three pats could possibly confuse the recipient of your intentions.
Like I said, Asbjorn and I bro hugged.
Things in the airport were a change of pace for me - for nearly two weeks I had been traveling at a relaxed pace and now I'm being shuffled through this line and that line. While waiting for my flight to board, I realized I left Gretchen on the sidewalk outside Asbjorn's house, and when he got home he was unable to find her. The love of my life... gone... because of a stupid oversight on my part. But alas, the day after my return home I'd get a phone call from a woman who found it and returned it to Asbjorn to put with the bike. Thank goodness.
This flight was crowded, and being at a big, major international airport is always a good way to people watch. I'll be keep my observations to myself, but they're damned funny.
I think I slept for some of the night, but not much. On my connection between Newark and Albany, I was hit on by a most fabulous flight attendant who reminded me of Bat Boy from the tabloids.
Anyways...
Eventually I'd find myself walking down the terminal and across security to the best welcoming party I could think of. My sweetie pie had even done herself up nice for my return and had a box of home-made cookies waiting for me in the car. We got home, zonked out for most of the day before I headed up to my mom's to pick up my dog.
Epic Journey. Over.
Now I know what I did, while daunting to many, is child's play to many as well. I was only on the road for 12 days where some are gone for weeks or months at a time. But I did what I could do with the time and funds I had to work with. And many "hardcore" tourers will tell you it takes almost three months just to get into a "travel" groove, but I got a taste of it. It was good to be home, and for the first day or so back things were exciting; to see people, my house, my dog, etc. But by the time I was back at work, real life, quite frankly, was a little depressing. All I could think about was the trip and how I wished I were still on it. Sitting on the stationary bike at the gym and looking at the little red L.E.D. graph thing on the screen just reminded me of the topography in Utah. I'll be honest - it wasn't anything I'd throw on a Coldplay album and cut my wrists over, but I felt a little depressed. Obviously it was to a much lesser extent, but the feeling was akin to losing a relative or a friend, in that a part of your life is now gone and can't be had again.
Except this can be had again, and I fully intend on doing more traveling as soon as my ass and my wallet recovers. I learned a lot (like not to pack as many clothes) and could definitely do this better next time (and maybe with some company?). Who knows what will be next - I'd still like to see Northern California, Yellowstone, the Tetons... we'll see. But I know I'll be out west again sometime soon, maybe with a bike, but maybe not.
Later, amigos.
