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?