I’ve Been Back Too Long!

In 48 hours I will have been back from my journey for 4 weeks. Wow time flies! I have been meaning to write a follow up to close this blog ever since I got home – but just never really got to it. Got to spend a little time with each of my sons. Added more shelves to my place which opened up the floor space again. Killed another rattlesnake outside my door and saw the Tarantula in the photo in my driveway. The community had a wonderful classic car show and outdoor concert last week. And yes, I have been sending out some resumes to jobs that sound just awful! By now I have forgotten most of the wonderful little bits of wisdom that seemed worthy of sharing, but I will recant a couple I remember.

Texas, Arizona and New Mexico have the toughest trucks. I spent some time (well over a decade) playing amid the off road crowd in the South West. During that time I had and got to see some pretty tough vehicles. That said, there is something about those real ranch trucks you see in TX, AZ & NM that just screams TOUGH! Haven’t seen anything else that even comes close.

On the topic of cars, it was interesting to see regional trends – the equivalents of Los Angeles’ low rider groups. While traversing towards Savannah, GA, I saw three different cars that were full size vehicles that had been raised to shove huge chrome wheels with low profile tires into the wheel wells. Looked odd to me – but probably just because I have never seen anything like that before. FL has their super lifted swamp buggies with most any kind of body perched on top. And in another part of GA I noticed almost every driveway had a retired police cruiser that had been fixed up – hood scoops, wide tires, etc.

I have given a lot of thought to the appropriateness of a motorcycle for long distance travel. Parking was easy and you are forced to prioritize on your packing. Most importantly, it is economical for an individual. My wife had been thinking about getting her own motorcycle to ride with me on trips. I have no problem with that, but it occurred to me that we lose all economics at that point. My current bike runs right at 40 mpg. The bike she was looking at is supposed to get 60 mpg. If we ride together, it doesn’t average out to 50 mpg, it actually drops to 25 mpg because we are running both vehicles at the same time. The economies of motorcycle traveling are lost. I am also wondering if I would stop when I needed to like I did when traveling alone. While on my own, the only expectations were my own. I know the ride experience would be completely different with a second biker.

A more important lesson I learned (in retrospect) is that you can not let frustrations create regrets. I made some decisions when the bike began failing and the temperatures where reaching record highs all around me that pushed me to stop seeing the area and just shove my way home. I ended up not making a loop North an extra hundred or so miles to visit a good friend – a stop that would have cost me probably a day and a half of travel time and put me on roads that were not detailed on my map when the GPS failed. I should have pressed on with the original plan. But no, when things started falling apart I began longing for the security of home. Coincidentally, I crossed over I-40 and recognized that as a direct route home. A quick u-turn and the decision was made.

A few minutes ago I finished the book “Two Wheels Through Terror” by Glen Heggstad. It is the story of his harrowing 25,000+ mile journey from California to the southern tip of South America and back on motorcycle. I actually met Glen a few years ago outside an In & Out Burger in Temecula. My son and I were returning from a trip to Anza Borrego and stopped for a meal. I saw a well dressed BMW GS motorcycle parked outside with a variety of travel stickers on it and started inspecting it pretty thoroughly. Next thing I know, this tall, tough looking guy strides up and we have a too brief conversation about his bike and adventure. I am taken off guard and really blow an opportunity to learn more about a very interesting rider. Once I got home and do a quick internet search, I realize just who I had casually met. I have seen his book pop up several times since then. On May 4^th, just a few weeks prior to my Florida trip, our paths crossed again at a local BMW event. That is where I bought his book. I took it with me to Florida planning to read it in the evenings. I never even opened it since I rode until I was tired and went to sleep right after writing in this blog. You can learn more about Glen at www.StrikingViking.net.

That story is important. Not because he is a long distance motorcyclist. Not because I have his book. It is an important story because when I met him I blew the opportunity to learn more about him and his life. When I look back at my trip to Florida and back, the adventure should never have been about reaching a destination. People often say the journey is the part that is important. A key part of any journey is the people you meet along the way. I met some very neat people on this trip. Had some great conversations of which some were quite inspiring. You know what? I didn’t get any of their names. Will our paths cross again in a few years just as I ran into Glen again? Will I be aware enough moving forward to ask more questions and focus more on the people? Guess we will learn that answer on the next journey!

Day Thirteen: End of the Road

This evening’s post is being typed a little slower than normal because my dog Maxx is sitting on my lap demanding more attention. I wouldn’t want it any other way!

The day started with a ride through Williams, AZ, before getting on the freeway. Again I ran into a set of gas pumps with no credit card slides. The sign said to pay first but the woman inside yelled out to go ahead and pump. I am good with that!

The photo above is from Seligman, AZ. This small town at the far west end of the state has all kinds of signage proclaiming themselves as the start of the historic Route 66. Have they not heard of California? Perhaps they were just a little ahead of themselves in expecting “the big one” to hit and drop California into the sea?

Crossing the deserts of AZ and CA today found me back on my quest to stay cool. The best solution to date was soaking my scarf and cotton shirt in water just before restarting the ride.  This works incredibly well in the hottest temperatures – for just about 10 minutes. By then the shirt is completely dry.  The solution would be to slow the evaporation some. To accomplish this, I tried wearing my jacket over the wet shirt. This blocked too much of the wind so the cooling evaporation was replaced with a feel of hot stickiness.

If I could not slow the evaporation, perhaps more water could be added. To accomplish this, I rewet the scarf and shirt, along with my heavy fleece jacket. I then placed the fleece inside the shirt, reasoning this configuration would slow but not stop the evaporation. This set up actually worked quite well! Contrary to basic reasoning, putting on the heavy fleece (wet) actually kept me cooler for a longer period of time. The downside is that the fleece I had with me is one of the typical man-made materials that really doesn’t absorb and hold water. Most of the water drained out almost immediately all the way down my legs. Thinking a heavy cotton sweatshirt may ultimately provide the best solution.

Once my triple layer solution dried, I stopped to get gas and rewet the clothes. As I walked in the small store I was confronted with a freezer full of ice. Next thing you know I was cruising into CA with a ten pound bag of ice shoved between the shirts. This did not work as well as expected. The bag’s bulk means it did not spread wide across my body so there was a central cooling sensation around my midsection but the shoulders were quite warm. Worse, the bag was leaking. My lap was frozen (use your imagination) and my entire seat area was soaked. When skin soaks for a while, it gets soft. This made my tender butt even more sore astride the seat. Somehow this never completely dried. Any time I walked into a store for the remainder of the trip, people stared at me as if I had pissed my pants.

About 60 miles before the CA border I spotted a sign at a truck stop for a Dunkin Donuts. Here is the last vanilla cream filled donut I am likely to have for quite a while. The star shape odd and it was a little under filled. Still good!

The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful with a focus on just getting home! Wonder where my next journey will be?

Day Twelve: Riders on the Road

This sign almost makes you want to get out a marker and go at it – but the red rock formations were way to beautiful just as they were.

Today was another 600+ mile day which means I am just 430 miles from home. Tonight I am enjoying my first KOA Kampground experience. It is a little more expensive than the State Parks I have been frequenting but has proven to be a great example of logistical design. I like that!

This entry was originally going to be titled “Pink Mist” which was replaced by “New Mexico, Land of Disaster.” I have seen no real accidents this entire trip – only a couple cars here and there pulled over from a small fender bender. Just a few miles into NM a deer jumped in front of a truck running about 1/8 mile ahead of me. Hence the “Pink Mist.” Perhaps Vegematic would have been more appropriate as the poor deer was sliced and diced by the impact and then the truck’s tires. I had to complete a few trick swerves to get around the chunks. No Nate, I did not stop and pick it up. Yes, I know fresh road kill of a healthy animal is a good source of meat but I really did not have a good way to transport that rear quarter that looked so appetizing!

Not more than 30 minutes later I see a trailer’s rear tire lock up causing it to swerve suddenly into a passing mini van. Now I am steering around tire and car debris but can see that everyone appears OK. I continue on.

Aside from those two incidents, the day was progressing quite well. Then I hit Albuquerque. Some kind of maintenance required that the four lane highway be reduced to one lane. There I sat in a large traffic jam at 12:30 – with the sun beating down on me in this heat wave. Why couldn’t this be CA where lane splitting is legal? By the time I got through the traffic there was no choice but to park. I was feeling quite ill from the heat. After about an hour of drinking Gatorade, snacking on trail mix, and just sitting in an air conditioned building with a wet towel around my neck, I was feeling up to giving the road another shot. Guess God was looking after me because the perfectly clear sky now had big puffy clouds which provided merciful relief from the direct sun. I was able to get back in the swing and comfortably reach my destination.

So now we get to the Riders on the Road. Sure I have been seeing other riders over the past several days with their bikes packed up for a road trip – but they were all on the highway. Today I crossed paths with 4 other distance riders at gas stations. Three of us ended up at the same gas station at the same time, even though we were all headed completely different directions. We all kicked back a while and shared our story of where our travels were taking us. I was feeling pretty good about myself as the other two were not taking on the miles that I am on this trip. We parted with good wishes.

Later I meet a young man on a perfectly set up GS Adventure. I believe his name was CJ. CJ appeared to be in his mid to late 20’s and is an engineer managing some project on Alaska’s North Shore. Seems he works two weeks then has two weeks off. What to do with two weeks off? Flew to Portland and picked up his cycle which he is now riding to Florida. Then I guess he flies back to Alaska for two weeks before flying back to Florida to grab his bike and drive to a different location. That is a great set up! I have now been put in my place.

In case I am still feeling a little smug, I meet one more rider just East of Flagstaff. This man is a true Iron Butt rider. For those not familiar with the term, Iron Butts are the guys that ride incredibly long distances without stopping. This guy considers anything less than 1,000 miles a day to be a waste of good riding time. Geesh, my butt is hurting and I think I am doing really good with a couple 600 mile days! A couple weeks ago this guy went from California to Washington, DC, and back – allowing only two days travel each direction. This weekend he is just doing a quick loop through Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona. I learn that he lives within 30 minutes of me. Doesn’t matter, we will NOT be riding together!

I have had the opportunity to see a good slice of our nation over the past few weeks. Somehow this 50 mile stretch of road through Flagstaff and Williams, AZ, has drawn me in. Williams was added to a short list of places I would consider living a few years ago, sight unseen, due to a post on some on-line bulletin board. Then in May I passed through here on the way to the Overland Expo just South of Flagstaff. Hmm, looks better than I pictured. After miles of desert in each direction, the tall pine trees in this region add wonderful fragrance to the cool air. It is time to close tonight’s blog and crawl into my bivvy to enjoy my night in Williams.

Day Eleven: If it’s clear you have nothing to fear

Yes, this photo is real. You know you are in Texas when the posted speed limit on a narrow two-lane road is 70 MPH! But who am I to argue with the experts at the TX DOT? I had little choice but to attempt to maintain the posted limit.

And what a difference a day makes. Today I racked up 642 miles which should resolve yesterday’s shortfall. Beginning in Little Rock, AR, I am now in the little town of Vega, TX, about 30 miles from the NM line. An early start obviously helped, as well has higher speed limits in TX. The real key was making it through the hot part of the day by taking numerous breaks of about 30 minutes each. That helped reenergize me.

“If it’s clear you have nothing to fear; if it’s yellow you’d better mellow; if it’s brown you’re going down.” Yes, I am talking about urine. This saying has been around the outdoor activities and survival community for a long time. Basically, it is a gauge of how well hydrated you are. Yesterday when I arrived at the Mississippi rest stop after just 100 miles, I was seeing brown. Passing out from heat exhaustion is not a great thing when you are screaming down the highway on two wheels. That is why I needed the nap. Today I kept my camelback on and repeatedly sipped from it while riding. Great improvement!

The bike performed flawlessly today. Well, except for the fact that the Brake Failure light never stopped flashing and the Speedometer sat on zero all day and the odometer says I have not moved an inch. Hey, do you remember that movie with Bruce Willis a few years back where he died and didn’t know it? Could that have happened to me? Perhaps that is why the speedometer and odometer say the bike hasn’t moved. Could the last two days have been some state of purgatory that didn’t actually happen? Hmm, with the intense heat I have experienced over the past two days I am going to hope I am still alive. You better hope that too because it is just plain creepy to think you may be reading a blog from “the other side.” Hope no boys come up to me and say “I see dead people.” Robbie – don’t get any ideas!

The road temperature was a bit more bearable in OK. The road work in OK is being done with concrete instead of asphalt. The new concrete was so white that the white lines for the lanes only showed up because they were a different texture. I have never seen a road surface that white (without snow on it). In addition, there was a strong cross wind most of the day which blew the surface heat off the road. Big help!

Most of you know that I love bread and simply cannot resist a good biscuit. Since I committed to eating only at local type restaurants for this trip, there was no way I could pass up the Biscuit Hill Restaurant somewhere west of nowhere in OK. Had a great Chicken Chef’s Salad with NOTHING! They were actually OUT OF BISCUITS! To be fair, I was their last customer of the day, hence the closed sign in the window as I was leaving. Fortunately, that was the low point of the day.

I spent much of my youth watching old western movies. Seems Oklahoma is the home of every Indian tribe known to Hollywood. The signs reading “Leaving Nation Of _____” and “Entering Nation On _____” almost seemed like old Burma Shave signs lining the highway. Then I even crossed the Chisolm Trail. Of course, most of those old movies were shot on a Studio Ranch in Simi, CA. I don’t see any terrain here in OK that looks like those movies! Digressing for a moment, when the studio stopped actively filming there, the main ranch was rented out to an infamous person. Any guesses? Charles Manson. But back to today’s journey.

When was the last time you saw gas pumps like these? I stopped to fill up at the last exit in OK before crossing into TX. These old pumps had no credit card input or selector buttons. Come to think of it, I don’t even know what octane it was as there was no choice. The numbers were the old roll kind that just flip past the little viewing window. Just drive up, put the nozzle in the tank, flip the lever on the pump and let the gasoline flow. Remember to wonder into the old building to pay for the gas before you drive off.

That was a bit of an odd collection of observations but it was one of those days. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

Day Ten: Good is Bad

Last night I decided to stay as close to the BMW dealer as possible. This obviously required me to drive to the dealer to know exactly where he was. A quick look at the internet scored the address with directions. I was tired and decided to just remember the highway number and exit. I would stop if I got that far and get the actual address. With that plan I found the exit and pulled over in front of what appeared to be a vacant building. As I was digging in my pockets for the actual street address, I look to my right and see motorcycles lined up inside the window. I had driven right to the dealer. Next time the place will be easier to find since the signs were being put up this morning as my bike was being checked out.

The people at the shop were great. Took my bike in immediately and began running diagnostics and updating software. Turns out the problem with the speedometer and odometer was a worn out connector to a sensor on the rear wheel. With none in stock, the mechanic did what he could to fix the existing one. And it held! Well, it held for exactly 104 miles which is how long it took to hit the Mississippi border! A quick call reinforced that the problem was just with a sensor and there would be no harm in riding on.  Fortunately I have an old GPS unit mounted on the bike which provides speed and miles driven.

Do you remember all of those things I love about motorcycles? The changing texture of air, the medley of aromas, the way the temperature fluctuates as you pass different types of terrain? Today I hated all of that! The air was extremely humid, the aroma was of fresh black top, and the temperature fluctuated from unbearably hot to something even hotter! While the actual temperature was supposedly just 106, the states I drove through have made a concerted effort to put about 6 layers of fresh, black pavement on top of every inch of road surface. That surface took the sun’s rays and did some kind of highly efficient conversion to thermal energy. The regular road surface was hot enough – but every time I hit a fresh section it was like someone turned on an industrial shrink wrap machine.

The heat was so bad (and I didn’t get to start until Noon because of the mechanical issues), that my cell phone displayed a message that it was too hot to charge. I only covered 363 miles: Birmingham, AL, to Tupelo, MS, to Memphis, TN, to Little Rock, AR. I actually had to stop and take a nap in Mississippi to recoup some energy. Then I took my whole shirt and saturated it with water. Felt incredible (for about 10 minutes by which time it had completely dried)! I made one additional non-gas stop which was to fix a quick meal at a rest stop in Arkansas. It was so humid there that the bugs couldn’t bite me because they slid right off every time they tried to land!  Finally stopped for the night a bit after 11p.

Tomorrow I plan to get an early start, find someplace to hide out in the shade or AC mid day, then ride well into the night. That should work much better. For now I will go to bed to get some rest before pulling an early start in the morning…

Day Nine: Trouble Strikes at the Most Convenient Time!

I must begin this evening’s post with a correction. Yesterday I managed to misspell JJ Grey’s last name! Think he will forgive me if I post a link to a song about his daughter? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h3gBnyDrkRQ&feature=related

Last night I was so busy thinking about me not thinking, that I didn’t think to mention my campsite! Yes, I spent another night sleeping in the swamp – the George L. Smith State Park in Georgia. This park didn’t have any alligator warnings posted. Of course, they didn’t post any warnings about the coyotes that ripped apart some hapless animal a couple sites over in the middle of the night either!

This park had the campsites cut into the bog that ran to the edge of the swamp. The ground was spongy when walking through the towering cypress trees – felt like walking in one of those jump houses that people get for kids parties except this one was huge! Very strange sensation.

This morning felt so good. The air was right at that temperature that feels a bit hot if you just stand there yet refreshingly cool when riding through it on the motorcycle. Since the State Park was already 15 miles off the highway, I decided to just head generally west for a little bit. Great decision. Once I got away from the swamp, that area looked just like the area of Pennsylvania I originally learned to ride motorcycle in. Gently rolling hills add interest to the terrain filled with large trees surrounding corn fields and houses. Perfect sunny morning ride. After about 45 minutes I decided it was time to make a little progress on the trip so I flipped on the GPS to find a way back to the highway. I was about 20 miles north and that was OK! I remember listening to how smooth the bike’s engine sounded as the throttle pulled me through the long curves. Did I jinx myself?

Something about a lone sojourner on a cycle packed with all his worldly needs seems to intrigue people. Perhaps they wish for the freedom to travel like this. Maybe they just want to see what some freak from California looks like. Maybe they like my grey beard? Regardless, people seem to want to talk to me wherever I stop.  And when I am not stopped, I get a lot of waves and thumbs-up from people in the cars passing by. This trip has been good to remind me that there are a lot of good people out there. That does not mean there are not a lot of idiots too!

100 miles into my day I pass Macon, GA. Next Atlanta is fading into my rear view mirror and the thump under my wheels indicates the Alabama border. The plan is to cruise past Birmingham to get perhaps as far as Tupelo, MS.

What the heck is going on with Birmingham? I stop and get gas about 25 miles out of town. Then hop back on the freeway listening to a podcast. About 10 minutes later I notice the GPS is still on and is telling me to make a u-turn. Duh, I got back on the freeway going the wrong way! How did that happen? Big deal, off and back on at the next exit. Once heading the right way, the GPS decided it had enough and just flashed some message about a calculation error. Odd – never saw that message before. No problem, I have a map and general directions stuck on my tank. Well, perhaps a bit of a problem. I stop three times to bring up my location on my phone to get reset. This is the first time the entire trip that I had any issue with directions. Feel like I just can’t get past Birmingham.

My Brake Failure light comes on. This has happened a few times and the dealer checked it thoroughly before I left. Just a low voltage issue of some kind confusing the antilock brake computer – not a big deal. Then the speedometer needle bounces a few times, finally deciding it will just take a nap on the 0. The tach is still working and everything else is lit up. Must be a loose ground wire. I switch the GPS screen to show the speed and press on, finally coming out of the far side of Birmingham. Wait, the trip meter has stopped. Then the gear indicator disappears.

Now I am very concerned. The deep south is not exactly BMW territory. In fact, I haven’t seen another BMW in over a week! It is 7p in Birmingham so my home dealer in CA is still in. They confirm my fears that this needs to be addressed by a dealer. Not many in this part of the country – but they tell me there is one in Birmingham just about 10 miles from where I was. Coincidence? God looking after me (as if he doesn’t have more important things to do!)? Just lucky? I don’t care why (remember I quit thinking yesterday), I just appreciate that it is what it is. The bike makes it back to where the shop is and I find a room about a mile away. I will be standing at their door when they open in the morning.

I am not holding my breath but it may still be possible to make my planned stop in Ozark, MO, tomorrow night…

Day Eight: No Mind

So I am thinking about the fact that I am not thinking.

But before I get into that I should explain the photo.  Summer 2010 I was working security at an all day concert on the beach in Santa Barbara – basically a reggae and blues festival. I didn’t recognize most of the bands but that probably has more to do with the fact that I am not that cool. Another band shuffles on the stage as I stand in the barricade day dreaming.

The band starts playing and has a southern rock blues sound. I am intrigued. Each song pulls me in more. Then the band does Lochloosa. It is a song about missing their home town that they wrote while touring in London. It instantly became one of my favorite songs. Over the next week I downloaded every song I could find from JJ Gray and Mofro. Imagine my surprise this morning to stumble upon Lochloosa just 42 miles north of my parent’s home! I have driven past 30’ tall saguaro cactuses on this trip and did not take a photo. But see a road sign that I am entering Lochloosa and I pull over immediately! Go figure.

Today is the first day of my trek back to California.  Last night my sister was going on about how she worries about me making this long trip. I responded that I am not making a long trip. I am just making a bunch of short trips back-to-back. I like thinking about it that way. That helps make every day an adventure.

The trip I took today was to the sunshine! The original plan was to leave yesterday morning. Then I was introduced to Debby. That would be Tropical Storm Debby. That bitch really dumped her stuff on central Florida. It rained heavy most of the day yesterday around my starting point. It was looking a bit better today so I set out. The first hundred miles were covered under very heavy clouds but virtually no precipitation.  The second hundred miles made up for the rain that I didn’t hit on the first hundred! There were only a couple spots where water actually was up to an inch on the road, but there were no ditches that were not completely filled. I saw flooding over many miles of the trip and even had to take a short detour around a huge sinkhole that ate 2 lanes out of the highway. My goal today was to get north of the storm. That happened somewhere between Savannah and Macon, GA. Suddenly the sun was beating on me and I realized how much I was going to miss the cooling effect of the rain over the rest of my trip. I was completely dry within 30 minutes.

Now about that thinking about not thinking thing. One of the things I love about motorcycling is the fact you are all alone with your mind. Nobody to talk to. Just sit there and sort things out. Today I realized I haven’t sorted anything out – haven’t even thought about it. I am just watching the world change around me; totally intrigued with how the countryside morphs into these ever changing landscapes and climate zones. Is this what the drug-crazed philosophers of the last quarter of the 20^th century called “no mind” or “live in the moment?” Perhaps I am just getting old and my thinker has stopped thinking. Whatever; I was just amused to suddenly find myself thinking about the fact that I was not thinking…

Day Seven: Size Matters

Several days have passed in Florida as I clean and repack my gear for the journey back to California. My plan was to leave Monday morning but I may delay a day as a tropical storm is passing by which will make the first day of the ride absolutely miserable! I will check the weather again along my route to finalize that decision – trusting in the NOAA.

Several people have questioned how I carried enough gear for my trip. Well, I actually travel with a pretty large load because I enjoy the luxury of good tasting food and comfortable sleeping. Essentially I have one case which I consider my “Bedroom /Office” and a second bag which serves as my “Kitchen / Pantry.” Tools, clothing, electronics and navigation are in the side bags. Repacking seemed to provide a good opportunity to show the basic stuff and discuss how I made the choices.

Let’s begin with a quick look at the concept of gear by looking at the two extremes: Expedition versus Ultra Light. Expedition gear could be viewed as the classic safari camps of old movies where huge, heavy canvas cabin tents are packed with travel desks and cots with linens. The tent may have a full wood stove/heater and kitchen. These are very comfortable but require a lot of space to transport and time to set up. The other end of the spectrum is the ultralight hiking world where everything is minimal and made of modern, lightweight fabrics. This gear is meant to be easy to carry while meeting the most basic needs. Everything else falls somewhere on a continuum between these ends.

My prepping mindset has forced me to address these ends continuously as the ultralight gear is perfect for carrying in a Bug Out Bag for quick escape, but tends to be less durable than full car/truck camping gear. As a compromise, I have solid gear that is available for a “bug in” situation, compact/lightweight gear for a quick motorcycle run (or hike) and a more comfortable compromise when traveling with my cycle trailer or in a larger vehicle.

Here is the extent of this journey’s housing (from left to right):
·         Silver / OD Survival Blanket wrapped around a full Mosquito Net
·         Self-Inflating Sleeping Mat
·         Condor Jungle Weight Sleeping Bag (for perspective, this is about the size of a coffee can).
·         10’ x 12’ Poly Tarp
·         100’ Paracord
·         Several Tent Stakes
·         Wiggy’s Bivy Bag (the black surface the other pieces are laying on).

Here is a photo of the Bivy all set up. Think of it as a full tent (including rain and bug shield) which is about the size of a sleeping bag with a couple extra feet added to stash some gear. In this photo, the sleeping mat and sleeping bag are already inside. I now have the three pieces rolled up as a single unit which forms a single bundle about 1/4^th the diameter of a normal sleeping bag. For dry areas, I can just unroll the combined set up and crawl inside. The mosquito net can be added for buggy areas and the tarp flown overhead in case of rain.

The bivy can be a bit confining at first if you are claustrophobic, but the size to carry and ease of set up is incredible. It really excels when setting up camp in remote areas where there is limited open space. The foot end of the bivy can easily extend into the area under low hanging trees where a full size tent could never fit. Yes, that provides some degree of stealth also if needed…

Several times I have found myself camping in areas where there are few trees available to tie the mosquito net and/or tarp to. Hikers often use a hiking pole as a support. No problem for this trip – the high end of the GS’s handlebar has provided a perfect tie-off point with the opposite end of the cord staked to the ground!

These two small units are the core of my kitchen.

Packed inside the pot is a Crux Lite hiker’s stove which literally folds in on itself. The set is made for a small gas canister to fit inside the pot with the stove. I have chosen to carry a fuel canister separate from the pot which allows a light and lighter all fit inside the one-person pot and pan/lid. This set up has worked very well for me for about 5 years now. Most people I know have purchased the Jet Boil stove instead and love it – it is rated as the most efficient of this type stove. I chose this unit from Optimus because it is so compact and simple.

I love a good cup of coffee. OK, it doesn’t have to be that good! For this trip I am using (clockwise from the top):
·         A stainless water bottle (which could be used to cook directly in a fire if needed),
·         Stainless mug which fits nicely around the base of the bottle,
·         A filter insert which can screw between the bottle and lid for a coffee filter or tea strainer, and
·         A case from Camelback designed to carry any standard water bottle.

Here you can see how nicely the units nest for insertion into the case.

I mentioned I like good tasting food. My standard is Mountain House freeze dried foods. Most of these simply require you to pour 2 cups of boiling water in the bag, stir, wait 10 minutes, and enjoy a great meal. There are some really good dehydrated foods available now also which are lighter and pack smaller. However, dehydrated food needs to cook longer to soften up – often up to 20 minutes of simmering in a pan after the water boils. For simplicity of use, the freeze dried food is my first choice after a long day of riding. Note the Millenium bars at the right of this photo. They are great snacks – in fact provide a great lunch on the road when it is just too hot to enjoy a full meal.

The kitchen bag is packed and goes on the highest tier of my motorcycle. This light, bulky pack adds very little weight to the bike and keeps the center of gravity low in spite of the appearance. In addition it is very easy to just pull the top case off when I stop at a rest stop picnic table along the way…

Hmm, is this weather going to let up so I can hit the road again?

Day Six: Rain, Lightning, Hail, and a Tunnel of Green

I have reached my destination (Mom & Dad in Florida). But still you get an update!

Today I got wet – really wet. The first half of today’s ride was great. Clear skies with slightly lower temperatures so life wasn’t too miserable. Yes, I did find a Dunkin Donuts and where two nice young ladies invited me to Bike Night. Sorry, I will be 150 miles away by then… Then… Then is when the sky turned black as night and exploded. Not sure what it is that the people of Florida did, but God hates them!

I was almost prepared. First the wind started picking up and I looked to the sky. Hmm, should I just keep going and assume this is a short thunder storm? No, I don’t see any sign of anything lighter than charcoal grey in the sky ahead, other than those incredible bright lightning bolts cracking all around. A quick ramp side suit up with rain pants, rain booties and rain glove covers and I am ready to go (I had made a conscious choice not to pack my dedicated raincoat since my riding jacket is supposed to be water proof). Did I mention that my riding jacket is supposed to be waterproof?

Barely a mile ahead I run into a wall of hell. Eh, I mean hail. No, I had it right the first time. Rain drops the size of 9mm were pelting me along with a mass of BB size hail (and the wind is stonger). Note, the rain pants may be wind and water proof, but they do little to stop the sting of hail on my knees! I feel like I am in the middle of a physics experiment where water is proving it can exist in a solid, liquid and gaseous state at the same time. The mist is so thick that all traffic slows to about 25 MPH and we still can hardly make out the car in front of us. Virtually everyone pulls over.

I see an underpass ahead with a lumber truck parked under it. I slip in between the buttresses with the truck between me and the passing traffic. Though dripping wet, I feel safe here with the truck as a buffer and the bridge above protecting me from the downpour. Guess you are expecting some dramatic event to happen at this point. Sorry. I just sat there for about 20 minutes until the storm let up a little bit.

Back on the road and it is better, but still terrible. A few miles ahead I see a rest stop. I pull over and stand under the eaves with a bunch of other people contemplating the weather. Figure about 45 minutes there. Finally the rain gets a little lighter. Not enough to be visibly better, but the racket from the water pounding the tin roof has been significantly subdued. Hop the bike and I am on the road again.

The remaining 150+ miles are spent in various degrees of wet. It is intriguing that I am actually feeling a bit chilled after all these days in the oppressive heat.

For a while I spend my time admiring the lush greenery around me. Then it hits me, I feel like I am in a never ending tunnel of green. While the desert was open and airy, the highways in Florida are lined with tall trees forming a high canopy with small trees in between and the bushes and grasses filling the void – mostly interlocked with a series of creeping, climbing vines. It looks almost solid. An occasional exit is carved out of the green wall, but then the wall immediately starts up again. The view for the last couple hundred miles is limited to a section about 50 – 100 yards wide with a black/gray roadway closed in by tall trees. Nothing else exists other than the black bucket in the sky being dumped all over you.

Let me digress for a moment for a nationwide observation: there is a ton of money being dumped into road reconstruction. Every state has major projects going on with sections of the I-10. I am not talking basic patch jobs. Miles of pavement have been ground up with teams of trucks and steam rollers laying fresh blacktop.  Miles of this! Must be a good business to be in today!

And that photo toping today’s entry: yes, that is Mom helping dry off my food supply. Appears the water resistant North Face duffel was correctly labeled as water resistant versus water proof. Did I mention my riding jacket is supposed to be water proof? I can feel the water running down the inside of the jacket into my, well, dripping just about everywhere.

Day Five: Still Alive; Hit 4 States; Observations on Mowing

For those who are waiting up wondering if I survived last night – yes! I did not become alligator bait. Guess the foil survival blanket worked! The photo above is the swamp which was adjacent to the tent camping area. I was a little concerned. Turned out the biggest threat was raccoons. In fact, I was awakened twice by raccoons fighting with each other over food they found in the campground. They sounded really nasty.

My supplies came through the night safe enough. The varmints knocked a bottle over on the table which then hit my metal cup, making a nice crisp “ring” around 4a. Fortunately, they never came for the supplies I had sealed up in the North Face duffle and shoved to the bottom of my bivy. The duffel is 2 feet long so it was kind of an interesting experience trying to sleep around it. I also determined that the bivy is not a great answer for areas of high humidity because there is literally no room for air to circulate around you. At least this Wiggy Bivy is made of Gore-Tex so it lets the internal moisture out. This was the first time I used it in the rain – I woke up nice and dry.

Here are a couple other residents of the campground. Seriously, the Sam Houston Jones State Park in Lake Charles, LA, is a wonderful place. In fact, the shower rooms were nicer and cleaner than some hotels I have stayed in! I highly recommend anyone traveling through this area stop and enjoy the park. Just remember your bug spray and make sure you have a mosquito net – it is neat to lay there hearing the buzzing bastards struggling fruitlessly to get at you.

So Lake Charles is on the far West side of Louisiana. I travel from there to visit the Cabela’s store just South of Batan Rouge. I have been a fan of the Cabela’s catalog for many years but never got a chance to visit one of their stores. I must admit I was somewhat disappointed – it looked and felt just like a Bass Pro Shop. Now understand that I do like the Bass Pro Shop, but I expected something more different from Cabela’s.

From Cabela’s I jumped back on I-10 through New Orleans and then out of the state. Next up was Mississippi. Now this may have been the best part of my day. Through some odd coincidences, I found myself wishing there was a military surplus store around (I thought I had lost the sniper veil I use as a damp scarf to keep the sunburn off my neck and to help cool my core). Coming into Gulfport I see a sign for Leon’s Army Navy Store. Let me tell you first off that this was one of the cleanest, most organized military surplus stores I have seen and there have been many in my history to use as reference points. But beyond that, turns out Leon is very serious about his motorcycling. He and his wife were both extremely gracious and nice people. I believe Leon and I spent at least 45 minutes just talking about motorcycling. Seriously, these two had so much in common with my personal interests that I know we would be great friends if we lived anywhere near each other.

Fully rested again, I jumped back on the bike and headed East again. There was a great rest stop just before the highway leads out of Mississippi. Timing was with me. I pulled in and saw a picnic table under a tall tree with thick foliage. Dinner time! I pulled out my little stove and enjoyed some Mexican Rice and Beans with a strong cup of coffee. I mentioned timing because while I was standing at the picnic table heating my coffee water, a sudden storm let loose. Everything around the area was soaked, but hardly any drops made it through the trees.

With a full belly I rolled across the border into Alabama. FYI, Mobile only has about 8 tall buildings, but I must report that 2 of their tall buildings are truly beautiful. Beautiful would also be a good way to describe my first view of the Gulf of Mexico on this trip as I crossed the long bridge on the East side of Mobile.

Hang on, Alabama isn’t as wide as Mississippi down here so I made quick work of the state and actually entered Florida. Tomorrow should be a relatively easy ride to my destination.

The last thing I wanted to share today is about mowing the median strips. In most of California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas, there is simply no need to mow the median and shoulders of the roads. At best you will have some scrub weeds and an occasional tumbleweed. As we hit the Eastern part of Texas I started seeing highway medians and shoulders being mowed. The state was using mower decks with whirling chains  to knock down the undergrowth.  But once I got to Louisiana there was real grass growing around the highway. The rest of the states all were using gangs of rotary mowers to provide a nice even cut. It may be a little odd, but I was intrigued by that.

Now to get some rest to bring the first major leg of this journey to a close tomorrow…

Day Four: Food, Trees, Cops & Alligator Bait

I am kicking off with a photo of Joel’s BBQ. I love real Texas BBQ Smokehouses and this one fit the bill. Didn’t matter that it was humid and hot and the place had no AC – this is what a smokehouse BBQ is supposed to be. The huge converted oil tank in the middle of the place had two chimneys of which one is completely rusted through. I am certain that contributed to the mesquite scent of the place!

A couple weeks back I rode across the Mojave Desert to Flagstaff. After too many hours in the blistering sun seeing nothing but scrub plants, trees suddenly appeared just before Williams, AZ. This morning was like déjà vu. About an hour outside of San Antonio, trees suddenly began appearing. Not as dense as those in Arizon but real, legitimate trees. I would describe them as about 20 feet tall, and dense enough to conceal a one story structure about 50 to 100 yards in while open enough to be easy to walk through. Alas, the tree line also signaled the escalation of humidity which will haunt me the rest of the way in to my destination in Florida.

And the cops. On a news show last night I thought they were showing a clip about contractors in the middle east. No, it was the Texas Sheriffs. The Highway Patrol wear cowboy hats and drive like it. The municipal cops are just that and fit the stereotypes. But the Sheriffs dress just like military contractors and seem to have a much better attitude.  While the Highway Patrol and Muni’s all gave me critical looks on the loaded cycle with California plates, the guys in the Sheriff trucks smiled and waved.  Thought that was very nice and deserved a mention – even at the risk of categorizing all Texas Lawmen based on 2 day’s ride through the state on I-10! 

Speaking of Texas Lawmen, I have gone through several Border Guard check points over the past many years around the state of California. They always just wave me through (I am about as white American as they come). Today I was going through a check point where the agent asked me about my citizenship. Really not a big deal -- just unexpected. I wasn't listening at all because I didn't expect any discussion. I said "What?!?" Another agent laughed and waived me through...

Today actually was a good ride with 541 miles complete. Assuming something weird doesn’t happen with the storms (there were sporadic reports of road closures due to storms), I should hit my Florida destination a day early.

For now I am sitting in a very pretty campground just outside of Lake Charles, LA. It has big trees and all kinds of wildlife running around. I hear the crickets all around, saw 4 deer and a raccoon so far. Even has flush toilets in a very clean bathroom. My bivy is set up about 50 yards from the water. I heard from my sister that a lot of family are following my journey on this blog. So, all family members should stop reading today’s blog now.

So, for the rest of you, the water I am next two is a swamp with warning signs posted about the alligators. Honestly, I was surprised they had tent camping here – but there are actually 19 spaces designated for just tents. I keep wondering if that number correlates to the number of alligators which need fed in spite of budget cuts? Well, everyone knows how much it hurts your teeth to chew on aluminum foil, right? Just so happens that I have a survival blanket with me that is aluminum and nylon. I set that up on paracord over my mosquito net and bivy so any alligators coming for me will at least get a tooth ache!  Tune in tomorrow evening to see if my trick worked!

In the meantime, I will spend the next few minutes enjoying a cigar and Honey Jack as the lightning crackle around me. Hmm, hope the foil blanket doesn’t get me fried! Whoa, the rain just started. Time to put the PC away. Good Night!

Day Three: This isn’t a Prairie!

First off, I want to thank the state of Texas for having the wisdom to post an 80 MPH speed limit on hundreds of miles of open highway between El Paso and San Antonio. Hundreds of miles of desolate desert with only an occasional house/barn/trailer to be seen in the distance – and not a single Indian Casino! Today I kept thinking about those highway movies where a crazed trucker runs you off the road and drags you off to a barn where they tell you “Go ahead and scream – no one will hear you!” Well, you could scream, holler, shoot, blow things up, whatever you want – and no one would hear you in this part of the country!

Yesterday I mentioned how Rte 8 sends you along only a few hundred yards from the border with Mexico. Though I have been in El Paso on a couple occasions in the past, I never realized how it virtually joins directly to Juarez in Mexico. In fact, the shoulder of I-10 drops down to the edge of the Rio Grande which doesn’t appear to be much wider than 20 yards at that point. 

The area inland from El Paso seems to have been hit hard with limited travelers this past year also. Many of the exits only have 2 to 5 structures. Seems at least half of those are entirely boarded up.  A little frustrating when you want gas, see the sign at the exit, then find the gas station completely shut down. Same at the next exit, and the next. I made it to Ozona, TX, where they still had the signs up on the highway with gas, lodging and dining places listed. However, 3 out of 4 businesses listed on the signs had their names painted over. Hard times (no pun about “signs of…”).

My camping plans are not going well. Aside from several being closed due to budget cuts, I have learned this area is strongly focused on snowbirds in RVs. Many of the campgrounds closed at the end of April. The others I have seen appear to be little more than a gravel covered field where RVs park. I am in a hotel this evening which means my clothes are getting a good handwash!

Tomorrow I plan to make it past Houston, perhaps to Beaumont. We will see. There were severe storms north of that area today but I believe they are moving East instead of South.

Oh, another change in plans: I intended to avoid all chain food  companies. However, I have a strong weakness for vanilla cream donuts which don’t seem to exist in California at all! As such, I stopped at a Dunkin Donuts along the highway and enjoyed a cream filled donut and coffee. Then I downloaded an app to find more of their locations. This trip, unlike past ones, I don’t plan to go out of my way to visit a Dunkin Donuts, but I do see one right on my route in Beaumont. Guess that will be breakfast in a couple days!

Day Two: A long ride to New Mexico

What a difference a nap makes! Though I woke up on the shore of the Salton Sea at 6a, travel was off to a late start (10a) as I stayed for breakfast and conversation with friends. The route took me south on the 111 to Route 8 to follow the border across the state, then caught the 10 for a quick sprint across Arizona into New Mexico.

The nap – starting late meant I was riding through some high heat and it was taking its toll. At 3:30 I pulled into a rest stop and took a quick nap at a picnic table. After that I was good until 9p! That provides a good plan for tomorrow: get an early start, take a good break during mid afternoon, then hit the road hard again.

Riding the 8 along the border had me thinking about my other life as a prepping and survival trainer. For those who don’t know, the San Andreas Fault begins at the Salton Sea and moves northwest to the Pacific Ocean. That means the only way anyone will get in or out of southern California is on the 8. Hmm, once you get out of San Diego, you only find a gas station every 25 miles or so – there is no way they will be able to meet any evacuation needs.  And there’s that border within a few hundred yards. Between the Cartels and the banditos, the endless row of stalled cars stuffed with everyone’s worldly possessions are going to beckon violence and chaos way beyond what anyone has anticipated.

Speaking of the border, I passed two temporary inspection stations this morning. Those were kind of intriguing. A “command post” in a trailer that gets towed onto the site. Signs are shoved into the sand along the road, and temporary tents, lights and cameras are set up beside generators. Looks like they could be set up and taken back down in a couple hours. Makes a lot more sense than the permanent locations.

Several years ago I was running a Jeep Wrangler through some of the more remote areas of the southwest. Frequently after observing some of the most horrendous areas I had ever seen, there would be a sign identifying the area as an Indian Reservation.  Today I saw a few of those barren areas – but you can now spot them 10+ miles away since each one has a new, tall casino building! Looks kind of strange: barren desert terrain, a handful of old buildings, and a massive, sparkling casino.

Let's close today's post with a view of the southeastern Arizona's mountains as the sun is setting...

Day One: A quick ride to Salton Sea

The sun is setting over the Salton Sea as my first road day draws to a close. The first day always seems hectic so I was glad to have a near destination predetermined. Last night I opted to put away much of the gear I had out to bring and consolidated down to a more reasonable load. I had been thinking about the hiker’s saying, “Travel light, freeze at night.” Now I was being reminded of a discussion two weeks ago at the Overland Expo where world adventure riders stated they start with a minimum of gear knowing they can pick up something along the way if they really need it. In the end I compromised between those two extremes.

Highs reached 102 degrees today which is about 3 degrees lower than the forecast for Arizona and Texas over the next couple days. Lows are scheduled for the mid 70’s which encouraged me to lighten my load by switching to a jungle weight sleeping bag for this trip. I just keep remembering the temperature dropped to near freezing outside of Flagstaff, AZ, a couple weeks ago after riding across the Mojave Desert...

A rider once posted on the Adventure Rider forum that they will only stop for food at “local” places when traveling, purposely avoiding all national chains. Hmm, sounds like a good idea. Hadley’s Orchard in Cabazon met the bill with a quick stop for a BLT. They have great date shakes but I passed on that with the heat!

My primary concern today was the wind on the 11 mile stretch of Route 10 by the wind farm outside of Palm Springs.  The high center of gravity on the GS makes it a bit of a wind magnet. With the extra pack and case on the rear it would catch the wind pretty hard. Fortunately, the wind was lighter than normal and I was able to stay beside a large truck which effectively controlled much of the buffeting.  Having passed through this area many times, I forget the awe I felt the first time I drove through. For more info on the wind farm, try this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_Gorgonio_Pass_Wind_Farm

And now I sit on the edge of the Salton Sea, a quirky area with a lot of history. My bivy will be set up on the beach which is really an area of crushed barnacles versus sand. Actually, a surprisingly pleasant place to sleep and wake up with all of the birds that populate the area.

Tomorrow will be my first full road day. Let’s see where I end up tomorrow night!

So I am going on a motorcycle trip across the U.S. What does that have to do with a pair of boots?

Let's go back about two months ago when Irv Seaver BMW was completing a major remodel for their 100th Anniversary as a seller of motorcycles. Their entire parking lot was torn up. I parked across the street and began to walk over to pick up a new turn signal lens. An employee calls out, "There is a board around front you can walk across so you don't get in the mud."
"Good, I wouldn't want to get my boots dirty!"
At that retort, the employee looks at my boots and then at the rest of my attire. "Oh, you're one of those GS guys. Go ahead and cross wherever you want!"

Those of you who are aware of the world of BMW Dual Sport motorcycles will understand and can skip this paragraph. FOR THE REST OF YOU: BMW makes a line of cycles with the initials GS. Think it stands for Good Shit or something like that. The GS bikes are all dual sports which means they go pretty much wherever you need to go -- great on the street and can tear through most ugly terrain. These are the bikes normally chosen by the crazy adventure types who ride across continents where there are few real roads. I have one of these and love it! Yes, I am One of Those GS Guys which means we don't really get too upset about small obstacles like mud slides across the road or learning the best way to our destination is a poorly maintained fire road. We just keep moving and somehow end up getting where we meant to go - enjoying the ride along the way.

I am setting out tomorrow for a ride from California to Florida. I will be spending the first evening a relatively short way out at the Salton Sea in California (friend's bachelor party). From that point, I generally plan to cover about 400 miles each day which will get me to my destination near Orlando on Friday evening or perhaps Saturday. The Eastbound section will be more about reaching the destination than sightseeing.

After a week in Florida, I will begin winding my way back to California taking a slightly more scenic route.

Oh, I must thank (blame?) Alex for this trip. When our employer mentioned they were going to begin closing down and lay off the staff, Alex came to me and said, "So what are you going to do? Disappear on your motorcycle?" That line has been like one of those stupid songs that get stuck in your head and you just keep humming it...