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Just wrote this in my head while Mert and me was ridin on the BRP (mostly) on our way to the GA rally. Other thoughts passed through by and in to this. Lemme know what ya be thinkin'.

"Roads and Wheels"

sight of sights unseen
many people not yet met
sensory wonder

twisties tear the wheel
with great expression smiles draw
ripping at heart's soul

surrounded by friends
independence as you roll
freedom washing spirit

sun shines in your face
dust settling concrete paths
wind's essence laughing

places and people
freedom's elusiveness wanes
weather, friends, unknown

Quote:

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dust settling concrete paths

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smooth...like a car with wheels.

great images, Steith.
thank you for sharing.

Great imagery in your writing! Thanks for that, I really enjoyed it.

This sticky thread is one I forget to check. This time however I noticed the last post had a relatively recent date stamp so I checked it out. Glad I did!

It must be a biker haiku season.

On the ride up to the VT Bennington Bash in early June, I was bored to death on a portion of the highway, and decided to pray while riding, in the form of a Buddhist chant. Throughout my 5 days in the mountains, the chant wove it's way through my riding images:

a prayer while riding


dodging raindrops and
kamikaze butterflies
jasmine scented air

the wind is singing
Namu Myoho Renge Kyo
sun warmed leather close

mountains rise to sky
tires kissing curves of road
engine purrs then growls

motorcycle bliss
Namu Myoho Renge Kyo
riding soul at peace.

pld
6.9.10

Bonnie veered off the A142, leaving the newly formed pack of Trumpeters as we rolled up a hill to come to a small workshop where the Henry Watson pottery is made. It is safe to say that I have never been well versed in the world of pottery but my wife is and she loves being able to shop right at the place where the Henry Watson collection is made. I guess it would be the same if I was able to grab my shopping cart and stroll down the aisles of the Hinckley plant, pointing out the items that suited my fancy for the day. I took the liberty of parking Bonnie on the only piece of concrete located at the shop; right by the front doors as the wife drove the car further down the dirt road to the parking lot that stood in front of a Guernsey pasture. Perhaps it was egotistical of me but I did not want all the loose stones “tinking” up underneath Bonnie possibly damaging her pretty chrome. Having her displayed in front of the store turned out to be a very rewarding choice…

After a record breaking twenty minutes of keeping the shopping spirits up, my patience soon began to fade. The race was on…who could fidget and let out anguished sighs the most; my son or I…my wife was quick to point out that I was in the lead by a full length. I tried to reflect on the ride that I had just come from and that Bonnie was parked in front of a place so well known in the pottery world to subside my child-like anxieties of: “do we really need to keep on shopping??!!” It was this adjustment towards my reflections that made me stop and look at the big picture as I bought a coke and went outside to stand alongside Bonnie and that was Bonnie and Henry had a lot in common. The Henry Watson shop is by no means fancy; it is nestled way back of any major road on a dirt road and the original brick dome where the first set of clay was fired up still stands. It finally began to dawn on me as I had a Coke and a smile and reflected even further. This pottery can be purchased from America to Japan and all over Europe but yet it is nothing fancy, as a matter of fact, there are only three or four color choices that the buyer can pick from. The design of the pottery has not changed for over a century but yet it is not only functional but very pretty. This is the testament to the fact that fanciness does not always equate to beauty and that craftsmanship is at times all that is needed. I smiled as I stepped back and thought now it was appropriate for Bonnie to be parked directly in front of the store. Bonnie has gone through minimal changes over the past fifty years and she still remains a beauty even though her design as a café bike is one of simplicity. Like Henry’s pottery, Bonnie is not one to stand out from the crowd because of her newness or because she is the latest fad to hit the free world but rather she offers a sense of history and refinement. There is value in honoring the heritage of the past and to keep that thread along the way.

I quickly went back into the store with a renewed interest to find my wife and sister to confess to them that I love this Henry Watson shop! My wife looked at me dumbfounded and shook her head as she replied, “How can you even say that? You haven’t been in the store long enough to even know what is on the shelves!” I simply shrugged and told my wife that I still loved the store and that she should take her time as I went to my son in his stroller. It was easy to see that my son was beyond the exhales of boredom as he was trying to make a break from the stroller. Understanding his pain, I quickly went over to him and tried to keep him occupied by giving him my buff and riding gloves in which he quickly donned. This seemed to settle him until he began looking towards the window and started making his famous “vroom vroom” sounds. I scooped my son up from the confinements of the baby cage and told the wife and sister that we were going to go hang out with Bonnie. My wife has stopped trying to argue with me each and every time I refer to Bonnie as a person and gratefully smiled knowing that she would have some quiet time to shop to contemplate how she would spend more money.

I sat my son up on Bonnie where he immediately stretched out as far as he could to grab onto the throttle, a gesture that would make any motorcycling father proud. I smiled and kept a hand on his back so that he wouldn’t fall off Bonnie and observed him as he smiled and looked Bonnie over with amazement. I thorough enjoy observing my son like this whenever him and Bonnie spend time together. It is a natural trigger for me to zoom off into my reflections and ponder things such as if there is a child-like innocence that allows us all to enjoy motorcycling the way that we do. The ability to drop our day-to-day guards and enjoy something without the restraints that often come associated with things in adult life. I kept my hand on my son’s back, serving as his protector that I have always known was my role since the first day of his arrival to me. I observed his enthusiasm and genuine interest as he sat on Bonnie and played with her throttle along with taking time to pause and use his hand to follow her tangerine stripes that runs down her tank. I smiled inwardly and realized that I have done the same exact thing before as well despite the fact that I am much older and supposedly much more mature than my son but I suppose that could be argued as well. I have often been asked why I am so emphatic on allowing my son to become interested in motorcycles; that they are dangerous and nothing but trouble can come from them. As his protector, I should be shielding him from such dangers and this interest towards motorcycling is something that is not healthy for him. I quickly reflect back to the time I was a child and trying my first motocross race with my father standing out to the side watching with great apprehension and excitement. Like the one time I got swallowed by the pack as I dropped my little 75cc in a berm and was literally ran over by a dozen different little 75cc monsters. I remember my father racing out onto the course without any hesitation, dodging all the little 75cc nats that were swarming all around him to make his way to me; a look of determination and sheer terror on his face. He began grabbing the toppled bikes with one hand and tossed them to the side until he made his way to me as he ensured I was alright. He gave me the official “once over” that instinctively comes installed on any father towards his son. “Can you move alright? Does this hurt…does that hurt?” I quickly responded from the adrenaline rush that I was fine and not hurt at all. I remember this as clear as it happened today; my father reached over and grabbed onto the handlebar of my bike that was laying sideways a few feet away and propped it back upright for me and responded; “well then, get back on this bike and go get ‘em son!!” I jumped back onto my 75cc and re-attacked as if General Patton was ordering me to re-take that hill! My little bike sped forward with the sound of a lawn mower wound out that was being used to mow the grass of a field rather than a small backyard. I was back in the hunt and it was my father that gave me the proper boot in the keyster to get me back to it. I smiled warmly remembering this thought from my father that has since passed away now and look back down to my son who is making the “vroom, vroom” sounds as he sat on Bonnie. I know already that my son has the same adventurous spirit that his father and grandfather have and that it would be more of a disservice to him if I tried to kill that. Perhaps one day I will be racing towards my son with nothing but sheer terror running through my body hoping that he is alright but I realize that I need to follow suit and give him the kick in the pants and tell him to get back into it, too never give up and apply himself. This is the independence that motorcycling has to offer, whether on the street, the motocross track or just the backyard. There are dangers associated with it but there is danger in every aspect of day-to-day life. It is best for my son to learn this and not to be sheltered away from life. For him to start out on a little 50cc in the bike yard and bounce off the ground a few thousand times just like his father did. But with this hardship of learning and assessment, teaches independence and the value of practicing to overcome something so that we can better ourselves. This is a value that is far greater than any overtly act of protection that I may be inclined to administer over my son. I know that my son will have motorcycles in his blood; it runs through his family and his responses towards Bonnie starting at 12 months old has already proven this without a doubt.

I took a seat on Bonnie behind my son and watched him with joy and in silent as he continued to make his motorcycle noises that transfixes him so much when a comment from behind me immediately brought me out of my contemplations: “Now that is exactly how a real motorcycle should look like.” I turned around half startled by the comment to see who made the statement and saw an elderly couple standing behind us. I got off of Bonnie and picked my son up as I greeted the person and introduced myself. The person introduced himself as Ken, the whole time his eyes were glued to Bonnie. The wife smiled gracefully and took the opportunity to enter into the Henry Watson store to shop in peace and I knew instantly that Ken and I had something in common. Ken was one of the people that you would feel lucky to meet; a man that is 81 years old but didn’t look a day over sixty. A calm and relaxing demeanor surrounded him but Ken also had a strong air of confidence mixed with a level of humility and grace. I believe this comes from a life of honesty and hard work where experiences of your life ultimately end up forming the person that you are. I immediately felt comfortable in Ken’s presence and knew he had to be a good guy because of his immediate reaction to Bonnie.

Ken began gliding around Bonnie, eyeing her up and down the whole time as he stopped by the tank after making a complete circle. “Triumph makes such a beautiful motorcycle; I look at your bike and I can still see my Speed Twin in her. It is nice to see Triumph making motorcycles with keeping in the traditions of how they used to make them.” I smiled as I nodded and told Ken that it is one of the reasons why I love my Bonnie so much and immediately registered to Ken’s comment about having a Speed Twin. I asked him when he had his Speed Twin and how did he like it. Ken told me that that he was in the Royal Air Force (RAF) and was a WWII veteran. One of Ken’s many duties was a courier where the RAF issued him a Speed Twin. He said that he had his Speed Twin for a couple of years until the RAF decided to phase them out and go with a different model but Ken dug his heels in and wouldn’t make the switch. He kept on performing his duties on the bike of his choice regardless of the policy. “They wanted me to change but the Speed Twin was a better bike; I could get to 60 M.P.H. in second gear. There was no way they were getting the Speed Twin back from me.” I chuckled and could identify to Ken’s passionate and rebellious nature but more importantly, I immediately felt a deeper respect and admiration once learning that he was a WWII veteran. I extended my hand out to Ken a second time and said to him; “thank you sir for what you have done and your service.” I also took my son’s arm and aided him in shaking Ken’s hand as well; Ken smiled broadly as he shook my son’s hand and accepted my words of thanks in a humble manner, as if it made him uncomfortable hearing the words.

Winston Churchill once said that “Never before in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few.” This quote was running through my head the entire time I visited with Ken as he confessed to me when I asked him about his service. Ken told me that he was still in school when the bombings began in the UK. He told me that the schools in London were forced to do two roll calls every day and that the same amount of “here” were not recorded in the afternoon as they were in the morning. These are children Ken was speaking of that didn’t make the roll call. The bombings got so heavy that the school began alternating schedules in attempt to provide a disruption in scheduling. If you went to school on Monday morning then you would return to school Tuesday afternoon and so on. I listened somberly and looked down to my son trying to imagine the horror that must of went through each mother and father not knowing if their child was going to be killed. Schools are a sacred institution; one where our children are safe so they can learn and play to broaden their horizons so they can grow up to be educated and productive adults; not a place for a child to endure the sirens of a bombing raid by an opposing force attempting to bring repression and evil. Ken said that he finished school but the war was still going on where he started off in the RAF by operating the anti-aircraft guns that defended London against the German air raids. I quickly realized where Ken’s air of confidence with a graceful humility came from upon hearing this. The famous quote by Winston Churchill belonged to Ken; Ken was one of the few that so many such as my son and I owe deeply. Ken stood his ground next to his fellow man and looked evil in the eye and vowed to push it back or die trying. This evil that would of stripped away liberty and freedom and replaced it with oppression and dictatorship. Ken manned that anti-aircraft gun and vowed that this was not going to happen; that he would stand by on his own constitution and perform his part to ensure this evil would not win. In short, Ken was nothing less than a hero. It was later on after the bombing raids were repelled when Ken became a courier and was issued his beloved Speed Twin. Perhaps the Triumph was a symbol of something good during a time of such wickedness for Ken and why he felt so passionate towards them.

“I bet this old girl doesn’t scream at 8,000 R.P.M.s when you are doing 70 M.P.H. down the road like those Japanese bikes do!” Ken quickly changed the subject and we were back googling over Bonnie. I chuckled heartily and replied; “no sir, she is at 4,000 R.P.M.s at that speed.” Ken let out a proud and boastful “HA” as I told him and said that his Speed Twin was just about the same despite how old of a bike it is. Then I did something that I am not known to do but I offered to Ken if he would like to give Bonnie a run. This is not something I am known for but something resonated with me while I was in Ken’s presence. This man was the real McCoy and I made the offer without any hesitation. Ken thanked me emphatically but said that he would be afraid that he wouldn’t have the strength anymore to take her for a quick spin. I felt a little bad for making the offer but still did not regret it as I then let a sly grin out and told Ken; “Well…I can fire her up and let you sit on her. You can tell me if she still has her true sound.” Ken beamed brightly and quickly confessed that he could still perform that task. I put the key in Bonnie and turned her over; Ken was amazed by the electric start. I got off Bonnie and re-positioned my son in my arms as I motioned for Ken to have a seat on her. Without hesitation, Ken took his position on Bonnie with a grin and gave her a few short and quick bursts of throttle; even more testimony of an experienced rider. Bonnie’s parallel twins instantly responded back with her roar each time Ken demanded it of her as he let out a hearty chuckle. “Oh lord, she sounds the same. This is still a Triumph.” I know that there is much discussion and debate with the new generation of Triumph owners to this dilemma but Ken’s grace of approval was the best proof to me that Bonnie still has her essence intact. That Triumph has respected their history and has shown homage to it through Bonnie even with the change of factories and owners. This made me feel as though as I was a part of something as Ken sat on her and plainly reminisced over her sound and feel. Both wives came out of the store together and in stereo, told us “boys” that it was time to go. Truth be told, I would have stayed in that parking lot several more hours to visit with Ken but I offered my hand one last time to him. “It was an honor to meet you sir and is something I will remember.” Ken smiled and retorted; “You as well young man. I have a story as well now; how many times do you meet a Yank on a Triumph over here!” I chuckled one last time as Ken’s rebellious nature came through and I accepted his ribbing with grace. I fired Bonnie back up and rolled down the private road, giving her throttle an extra twist to release her roar through the air of the English countryside; the sound resonating in my ears more than it had ever did before.

Nice.. very nice.

Great story Matt. I see talent in your writing. Maybe you should submit stories to some mc magazines. Keep it up.

Time again for the annual Turner Brothers weekend ride. The past two years it's just been my middle brother and me because our youngest brother was stationed at Fort Lewis on the Puget Sound and unavailable for a weekend run. This year he retired after 27 yrs. of flying for Uncle Sam and moved his household to Debary, FL. Wally trailered his Road King to my place in Alabama and the next morning, Sept. 2nd, we set out for the mountains of Western North Carolina. My plan was to avoid four lane highways and the interstate and to make it as interesting as possible. After all, Wally's been riding the Pacific Cascades for years so I felt like the Appalachians had something to prove...




We waited until the dew burned off and then got the bikes out and started away. That is, right after I broke Wally's left mirror on the wall mounted tire in his trailer while attempting to off load his bike. Hey, at least I didn't drop it completely...man, is that Road King ever heavy compared to our seek Triumphs. Anyway, back to the trip: I used a route I know pretty well from Fort Payne (AL) over close to Chy's neighborhood in Dahlonega and then we turned northwards on GA 9 to US 19, up through the Chattahoochee National Forest. I couldn't pass up a chance to run through Turner's Corners and pick up US 129 on the way to Blood Mtn. for a quick photo-op and we were rewarded by a nicely twisted road that was lightly traveled:



This path parallels one of the Georgia Rally's notable runs, Wolf Pen Gap and I was eager to give it a go. The air was clear and even though it was starting to heat up, the shady spots along the road and cool riversides evened the temps out. Quickly we roared over Blood Mtn. drving along the lovely twists and turns that carry you up and then down past Lake Trahlyta, Brasstown, and Rocky Knob through Chatuga State Park, passing the Hiwassee, crossing the Little Tennessee River and slipping along the Nantahala river through the national forest up to Sylva, NC where a short section of four lane the carries the trip into the greater Asheville area. Just outside Sylva we made a brief pit stop for lunch at the Dillsboro Smokehouse ordering the obligatory pulled pork sandwiches and were rewarded with scrumptious BBQ and perfect southern sweet tea. Nice. Back in the saddle we hit the four lane and after just one missed turn we moseyed into the parking lot at our lodging (the but great free breakfast Hampton Inn near Biltmore) where we were joined by the northern contingent of our group, middle brother Tim and his wife's brother-in-law Gerry. That added another Road King and a Valkyrie to our group.

Our normal thing is to go for a jaunt once we all meet but since Time and Gerry had already put in 450 miles we went to supper instead at the Apollo Flame Bistro where we rewarded with an excellent supper that lived up to their claim of being voted the best area eatery three years running. Kind of an odd mix of Greek and Italian menus but it was good eats and that's what counts. Then it was off to the Stone Ridge Tavern to visit and share some road stories before putting in for a good night's sleep.

The next morning we set out early, I wanted to hit US129 before it became a parking lot and I figured Friday before noon was our only hope. I was pretty much correct, too.



We ripped out of Asheville on US19/23, slowing only for the dense morning fog between Canton and Clyde picking up US 74 outside Waynesville where we had a brief moment of indecision as I wasn't satisfied with my memorized directions.



Turns out I was on track, I just hadn't memorized the left and right forks of the highways properly.




US74/19 runs along the Nantahala river and the morning was cool and delightful. The sky was showing some cloud build up but the weather forecast only had a 20% chance of showers so we were feeling pretty lucky. After a brief but exilharating run along the Nantahal Gorge we turned left onto US 129 headed for Deals Gap and our morning target, the Tail of the Dragon.



This stretch of US 129 is always a blast to ride, this time I enjoyed the fact that we were well ahead of the weekend crowd and we could ride it at a real pace...at least until we caught up with that slow pickup truck, but, at least he was kind enough to pull over once he found a spot. My floorboards scraped a few times and I caught the kickstand once (which is always unsettling) but hoo boy what fun. A brief stop at the top overlook and we were off again; this time the planned route took us well past Chilhowee lake through the Tallasee Recreational Area. We turned left onto TN 72, left again of US 411 and left once more on TN 360 passing Fort Loudon State Park on our way to Tellico Plains and the wonderful Cherohala Skyway.



We managed one overlook stop before the drizzle began so it was mount up and get on our wet riding game. Luckily, we were chased all the way to the end of the Skyway by the rain clouds but all we ever got was a light drizzle from time to time and the ride was fantastic. Then to top it off we hooked back up US 129 toward the Deals Gap Resort and took NC 28 (aka the Hellbender) to Fontana ****** and then along the mountains that contain Fontana Lake.



That NC 28 might be a better ride than US 129 but it can't claim the 318 turns in 11 miles so I think it's largely ignored by folks who otherwise would really enjoy the road and the scenery. Then to close out the day it was back toward the hotel the way we came (no missed turns) and then straight to the Stone Bridge Tavern for supper and beverages. A long day at 300+ mountain miles but well worth the memories.




I kinda knew in advance that running heavy bikes over those three pathways would be physically challenging so I planned a lighter day for Day 2. We pulled out a bit later that Saturday morning with two objectives: one, to run the Blue Ridge parkway until it ends, and, two, to visit the Wheels thru Time museum in Maggie Valley. The cloudy sky was gone by the time we hit the BRP and instead it was chilly, very chilly.



I'd hazard a guess that the temps up on the ridge were in the low 50s in the sunlight and high 40s in the shade...oh, yes, there's lots of shade on this stretch of the Parkway. What a lovely ride up and down and round and round from 2400ft to 6000 ft.



They're still repairing two rockslides on the Parkway so that makes for an intersting minute or two but otherwise it couldn't have been more perfect, even as chilly as it was. Once we dead ended into the Smokey Mountain Parkway (US 441) and dropped down into Cherokee the temps warmed substantially. A short stop at Hardtails Saloon proved that their claim to the best burger in town was indeed correct and Blondie (the owner) gave us perfect directions to Wheels thru Time.



All I can say is that if you love American motorcycles, this is the museum for you. We met Dale the owner and his son Matt who gave us a guided tour, kick starting any bike we wanted to hear run and knowledgeably answering all of my questions. It is so cool to hear a 1914 Henderson bike kicked to life...and everything on display in the museum is a runner.



Once we left we decided to try our luck a joining the Blue ridge Parkway and taking back to the hotel. Turns out Gerry really had taken quite a beating with the 450 miles down from northern Virginia (after riding from PA to Tim's house) and the 350 (more or less) of twisties the day before so he peeled off for the hotel. He's a pretty big guy and along with that heavy Valkyrie trying to keep up with my much more nimble Triumph just flat out wore him out. That left the three of us to muddle out way back up to the top of the mountain which I did by dead reckoning...that's just guessing which left or right will get you there...and it worked. Following a couple of great farm roads I managed to find US 276 and up a convoluted path we went climbing and twisting right up onto the Parkway. We were rewarded with a much warmer and pleasant ride back to the Hampton Inn and another great day of riding was had.





We parted ways the next morning with Tim and Gerry headed back to northern VA with Wally and me headed south to Alabama. We tripped along US 64 all the way to Highland, NC and then cut south over Scaly Mtn. to Sky Valley and around the Hiwassee down into north Georgia through Blue Ridge and Cherry Log. I know a nice little bit of road from Ellijay back to Fort Payne so we took it and had a nice final ride complete with more mountain motorbiking and twisties finished us off. It just makes me want more...

Doggonit Ed, next time your driving through my back yard give me a shout.
Mike

Oops, I thought you were having a family party

Well, well, there were a lot a folks her so I probably could have slipped off and no one would have noticed

Ok...going with the original poster(way back when) heres an article I'm including in my (heavily into HD ) club magazine which I edit.
Thought you folks out there migh appreciate the idea behind it...if you dont hear from me again, then I guess my club didnt appreciate the humour.

Al
SCOOP!
EXCLUSIVE
NEW HARDLY SPOTTED ON THE ROAD!




At last a new improved machine from ‘The Motor Company’
After years of speculation we finally obtained some pictures of Hardly’s new mid range machine. Not surprisingly until very recently the factory continued to deny all knowledge of this bike but we, Dear Reader, spotted this one actually being ridden on the road.
When we confronted Davie Williamson , managing director of Hardly Derision (Europe) He was finally forced to admit the truth about this much rumoured bike.
Granting AMOCTIMES an exclusive interview , Davie told us the story of the bike( known as the Bourneville) and it’s development/
“See guys we figured the MoCo needed a new machine. From the feedback we’ve been getting-to which we always pay attention- say are you ok? I thought I heard you choke there?- we knew we had to address some of the problems inherent in our existing model range.
For example take the Snotster…it’s a fine bike , but some purchasers have taken to misusing it….like running it at high speed, or at all in fact,…in which case, naturally, your going to have problems with a Snotster …like the gearbox…this was designed in an age when gear teeth were traditionally cut from play dough-you cant expect to run at sustained freeway (sorry, motorway) speeds with this sort of metallurgy.
And again we took a long look at our Diner range ….we found that this bike tends to be bought by folks who like to stop a lot for doughnuts, so we’re happy to let them do that and maybe relax to the tinkling melody of timing chains spitting metal into oil pumps…that sure is a popular pastime to judge from the letters I get.
But there was something we figured was missing from our range of bikes…..maybe one that wouldn’t even break the bank let alone any of its component parts, and one that maybe just was more suited to century we live in, ****** man we’re living in the fast lane now with some of our rivals using advanced technology –like them new fangled ‘overheard clams’ I hear tell of.

So here it is…..the Bourneville……

As you can see it’s a traditional V twin….we tried all sorts of angles for the V before settling on 360 degrees……looks neat, eh?
And we needed to have 2 chains on it so ( radically) we put one to work driving the rear wheel….it’s kinda like a belt but it doesn’t snap or squeak and you can even tension it yourself too.
Oh and the other chain we made to turn the valves –originally we were thinking of using it with little buckets attached to fetch up oil from the crankcase to splash around the top end but then we had the idea of using it instead to open the valves –pretty neat, huh?
Only thing we haven’t worked out yet is how to machine-in any inherent problems with the motor….it just keeps going apparently…but we’ve got a whole team working on that one right now with ideas like maybe a little tray that drops a rusty bolt into the bottom end every 1500 miles- though we haven’t finalised that yet.
Best of all, though, like all Hardly’s the Bourneville is 100% Mercian

“Finally” says Davie proudly……..
“We think this is one Hardly that’s going to sell like…er….like stuff that sells quite well.
Go buy one now, and be the last kid on your block to have your bike come home in a box…Gee d’ya think that would work as sales slogan?”

Al
ps couldnt quite get the hang of wher the phots go-but they're of my 2010 TBA

This morning was very cool for a south Texas day, in the low sixties. So the wife and I had to bundle up in our leathers at 8:00 am. I haven't really broke out my cold weather gear since I moved down here, and it took some time to ge use to (so much for global warming). It seems to be getting colder earlier every year.
So we took out, leather clad adventure-ers on a mission. At first we did not ride fast but took it easy. Making our way into town for a fuel up before hitting the highway. After a few minor adjustment to our gear, and some premium petrol we were off. Off to what ever the road would bring, and off to ride with the American legion riders for a benefit ride (to benefit St. Judes Childrens Hospital).
Low sixties dont seem very cold until you are moving 65 or 70 mph. then the wind will cut through you like a razor. We were good though. Leather is a great wind break, you see I have no wind shield. My bomber hat, neoprene face mask, old school leather jacket, and chaps protect me from the elements. But we were ok. Energized by the crisp air and the thrill of the road, we were great.
As we headed down the old highway toward our destination she leaned forward a little and squeezed me, oh happiness. I throttled through the twisties and the switch backs and smiled like a child playing in the park. We spent more time than we should looking off the side of the road into the woods and farms along the the way. This is some beautiful country. Each time we broke free from the shade of the trees we could feel the warmth of the sun on our leathers. Along with the cold air that penetrated the small openings in our gear. I thought of those songs about the warmth of the sun, and it being a good thing.
As we entered the small old town of Cold springs we saw what must have been hundred of American flags lining the roads. They couldn't be more than 10 feet apart through out the whole town. If you can picture a town from a western movie with paved roads, and now Old Glory picketed along the streets. It was a site to see. I knew then this was going to be one of those unforgetable days, that you look back on through out the years and know you lived a good life.
We rode on through the town, on to our destination. I feared abit that we may be running late, and it was a little warmer now so I poured on the throttle. Now we were tearing down the road not looking to much a the scenery, but focusing on the road. I didn't want to be late or rushed to get registered, and in line. As we aproached the camp site you could smell the smoke from the cook off before you could see the the event. Awwe we have arrived, and from the way the bikes were heleter skelter in the park I knew we had plenty of time to take off some of the cool weather riding gear before registering.
Upon registering we recieved our arm bands and t-shirts we were informed 5 minutes to kick stands up. We got back on the Matilda and got in line, you don't want to be in the back of the line. The best place is right in the middle of the pack. We then huddled together for a safety meeting and prayer, and returned to our bikes. The start up was an impressively thunderous roar,and we are off. First stop Pork chops ice house. We rode back through cold springs along that patriotic route this time as a rumbling entourauge of riders about 80 strong. In our company were many kinds of bikes and trikes, from stock factory bikes to customs, and home builters. A motley crew of women and men from all walks of life come together for one cause. To use our luxury for the benefit of some less fortunate.
As we exited the quite town of Cold springs, this time headed north we winded through the woods like a mile long snake. Suddenly we were crawling to a stop as there was some police trying to capture two escaped horsed on the side of the road. The thought of those frantic equine charging through the line of bikes made me uneasy. We slowly passed by, and were back up to speed in no time at all.
Pork chops is an ice house on the side of an old back highway around lake Livingston. Its not dirty or rundown but clean and nice kind of like a bar in your friends garage only larger. Its staff is a host of friendly biker types who serve with a smile and a gravely how are ya. The front patio is like a park gazebo with picnic tables made of 2x12's, and the inside is built out in wood, stained and clear coated. creating a warm ambience of southern style.
Next stop, is the Backwoods bar and grill, mine and my wifes favorite biker bar, bar none. This place is a little more rustic with an out side patio that wraps around the front and the side. The insided is also a stained wood only somewhat darker, and more relaxing its like the feal of an autmn evening when it starts to cool off, even when its 100 degrees out side. The staff is a hand full of good ole, biker gals, who remind you of that rebelious aunt who use to come to family reunions and have more fun than anyone else. Thier cook is a chubby little blonde who knows her way around a smoker, (the best food in a bar period).
TO BE CONTINUED........

Hello everyone, here’s my attempt at a journalist impression of this past weekends Arkansas Rally with some artistic license taken...

Some background first, a couple of weeks ago my buddy JohnC had mentioned if I’d like to go to this Triumph Rally at the end of October. Since I’ve been test driving his Triumph Speedmaster for about a year and 3000 miles, I figure why not. It’s been a busy year at home with remodeling, kids in College, teens, work and such. I was in need of a little decompression anyway. So with the blessings of my wife Saint Margaret, Patron Saint of all who put up with me, I sign on.

As part of my therapy for this trip. I had decided I would go totally with the flow of things. I didn’t want to make any decisions other then to go. So for me, no maps, no GPS, no plan, no schedule, just go. (If you know me then you know this is completely not my normal Modus Operandi.)

Friday morning weather briefing confirmed what will probably go in the record as the 3 most spectacular weather days of 2010. With that knowledge we hit the road at 10am’ish on a high speed blast west bound on Hwy 40. Arriving in Russellville in way too short a time later, we stop for a light lunch and fuel top off. With that out of the way, and anticipation peeking for us to get into the more interesting ride northbound up Hwy 7, away we go!

So there we are tooling along Northbound on Hwy 7, enjoying the road, the ride, the view, just having a real ‘Zone’ experience. Life is simple, Life is good! Somewhere out in the middle of the Ozark National Forest things changed for me. While enjoying a medium tight climbing right hand sweeper the Speedmaster goes quiet. Immediately pulling the clutch in, and a quick glance down at the tank- no lights, no tach, no good. I continue coasting up hill as far as she’ll take me and pull over onto the nice 18 inch shoulder Arkansas Department of Highways so kindly laid for us adjacent to the 50 foot unguarded drop-off. Next I secure the bike, dismount, evaluate the situation, and with the coolness of a Jedi Master determine to cross the road so I don’t get splattered on the grill of some truck and hope the bike doesn’t get blown off the cliff. (Luckily at this point I have not purchase the bike yet, so if she goes over- oh well!)

Now things get really interesting. At this point I’m safe, and the bike is safe (relatively speaking) so help is just a phone call away,-NOT! First attempts to a call are futile. Being in the middle of nowhere Verizon obviously determine cell coverage was optional out here. I hike up the hill a few hundred yards and manage to gather one bar worth of signal strength, yes! I dial up the wife who’s on standby ‘just in case’ and while communicating through a broken signal I get spanked with a dead cell phone battery. Not knowing how much my wife caught of my transmission, I head back down the hill to reassess things.

A quick look at the bike and I determine the battery has gone south, not to big a deal. To bad in my zest to depart home I did not transfer my tools from my current riding gear. Still not to bad. Eventually my buddy JohnC will notice I’m not behind him. I’m sure he’ll turn around and back track until we cross paths again.

So over the next 2.5 hours I wave off some offers for help. The guy with the beat up, bald tire Harley hybrid, offered to get his truck from Jasper and come get me and the bike, another Harley guy stopped and let me make a call off his phone, which was really cool since I was able to get a full conversation in with the wife and she started making calls on my behalf. I waved off a sweet Triumph ride as well. I figured this won’t be too much longer. Well much later I start feeling like the guy in the joke who feel off the boat and wave off the submarine, helicopter, and sailboat offers to help because ‘God’ will save him. With that thought I decided in the next half hour if no one shows up, I’ll turn the bike around and coast it back down the hill. That’s got to be better the walking. Just wish I had a watch or phone so I’d know what time it is.

Some time later, between aggravation and desperation a large group of bikes pulls over. Great, I think. I waited to freeking long. I should have gone with the Harley guy with the truck. Now I’m going to get my butt kicked and bike stolen! Dang it!

Well those’s that were there know what goes down next. A great bunch of guys helped out a complete stranger, lending tools and bike parts to get me over the mountain to Jasper, where unbelievably I find a battery to purchase! The great people of the Ozark café let me set up camp in the corner of their store and offered me drinks of rehydration. After I got the bike back together with more borrowed tools, I was able to chillax in the rocking chair, and reflect on the events that made up the bulk of the first day of my first Rally. Life is good, and things really are not as bad out there as TV makes it seem. If you just listen, breath and except your conditions you will be provided for.

The follow two days were just full of mountain vistas, meals with new friends, fireside jokes, Pie girl, good beer, breathtaking pictures, fond memories, and 806 miles of bucket list riding.

With that under the belt, I look forward to when our paths cross again, and to next years ride!

Cheers to all!

In my defense, I would like to add to Tom's ride report that I was among that group of "complete strangers" who returned to help. That battery only had seven years on it and shoulda lasted at least seven more, dang it!

I didn't recognize you at first. It having been so long and all.

Great write up Tom. I'm sorry I passed you buy the first time. I swore you we're looking at a map you didn't bring.

Thanks Marc, as you and a few other triumph's road by I was probably pondering how nice it would be to have one that runs!

Still a great day none the less. Cheers!

Ive been keeping a journal of my trip to SWTF 2011 on my Facebook page but thought Id go ahead and post it here, with pictures. Here it goes:


Preparations, thoughts and reality
by Zdenko Milin on Tuesday, May 24, 2011 at 8:40am

Every day is filled with thoughts of preparation for my trip but they seem to be interrupted by reality. The good news is that even reality is filled with thoughts of my upcoming trip.
What trip? you ask. On May 31st I head out for a short (sarcasm is my friend) motorcycle trip to Prescott AZ then back home to Seattle via PCH. All in all it’s going to be an 11 to 13 day trip (I’m hoping for 11) covering 6 states and logging over 3000 miles. It’ll look something like the picture to the right. Click on it for a closer view.
So... Why am I taking this trip. I’m attending the Southwest Triumph Fest. Its a gathering of Triumph riders who all hail form a little website (Bonnevilleamerica.com) I have been a member of since 2007 (the year Karen and I bought our bikes). We all share similar interests in that we all ride (or have ridden) the same brand and model of bike (Triumph America or Triumph Speedmaster).
I've met folks form this site before and have yet to meet anyone that is not genuinely a pretty decent person. Some may dress like pirates (for my non MC educated friends that was just a dig on the "look" of a typical motorcycle rider) but all have been good people.
Speaking of my fellow Triumph riders... I do have company on my trip. I meet my first riding buddy (Brent) in Pendleton OR (276 miles into the trip) then we roll on to Star Id where another member (Mike) will put us up for the night. The next day we meet up with yet another member (Bob) and maybe a fourth (John) and head to Wellsville UT then on to Kanab UT and finally Prescott Az.
What do we do when we get to Prescott? We ride (yes, we ride) during the day and BS in the evening at HQ. The organizer and host of this event (Dwight) has everyone over and eating and drinking ensue. Since I've never been I don't know how it all goes but if I had to guess Id bet that we all turn on the smart ass switch and have a few laughs.
This looks to be the biggest turn out so far (in as long as its been held) as there are attendees from all corners of the country. I think last count was at over 30 but I’m not 100% sure. I’m looking forward to meeting some fellow BA.com members and seeing their bikes.
On the way home a lot of us will separate but Brent and I area heading to LA. Brent will stay with his family/friends and I will be in San Pedro. After a day of rest we head up PCH for a few days for what will be the most scenic part of the trip. This is also where 11 days can easily become 13 but we both have commitments that we need to meet so were going to try and stick to 11 days total.
Preparations... Its not like I’m traveling in the middle ages or even earlier this century. Gas stations are everywhere and you can easily find lodging so what’s the big deal right? The big deal is that I am on two wheels for 11 days and need to pack for possible weather conditions and am limited by my bikes capacity. Actually, that isn't that bad either. I have my packing list and am at this time almost all set. I need to get my scrips refilled and then I’m set. My GPS will guide me when I’m lost, my camera will keep still memories while my GoPro will record some of the riding and scenery. The Spot tracker is set up, tested and ready so Karen can worry less by being able to see that were moving along nicely. What else is there? Nothing that I can think of. The only thing in my way is reality.
The reality of waiting for the 31st is the hardest part. I’m looking forward to this trip in the worst way. It is the longest trip I will take on the bike to date. It’s an event I have wanted to attend for a few years now. The ride home along PCH is a ride I have always dreamt of taking. The sucky part is that Karen wont be with me. I wish she was/could take this ride with me. This just means well have to do it again, together next time. I’m looking forward to that trip also.
I guess this means that I have decided to keep not only a visual record but also a written record of this trip. I don't expect this to be one of those movie like life changing trips but I know people will ask about the trip and my memory for things like trip details is simply crap so Ill do a day by day here and then I can direct people to it. It’ll also give me a chance to wind down in the evenings.


HURRYY UP please!
by Zdenko Milin on Sunday, May 29, 2011 at 12:55pm

So it’s Sunday and I don't hit the road till Tuesday but I’m so full of anticipation is almost unbearable.
Brake pads are replaced, oil is changed, bike has been test ridden and all is good. There’s an updated playlist on the iPod, camera batteries are charged, Spot device batteries are new and ready to track me during my trip.
Heck, I even mounted the luggage rack to the bike already. So... c'mon Tuesday, hurry UP!
I need to be on the road between 6 and 7am to get to Pendleton OR about noonish to meet Brent. Though I don't like getting up early I do like riding in the early morning. There’s a serenity to it, a calm, a tranquility. I would imagine it’s the same for people that like to watch the sunrise or for those that like camping.
Let me see if I can describe it.... There’s a chill that hangs in the air that’s not cold but comfortable. There’s an aroma in the air not yet filed with exhaust or chemicals. It’s crisp and pleasant to breath. As you ride there are fresh smells with every mile. Riding through the shade the temps drop and entering a sunny patch you feel the sun warm you. There are few people on the road and that’s always nice no matter where you are. My bike always feels strong in the morning. It revs harder (for my non-riding friends this is a good thing), it leans easier and feels more planted. Its an almost Zen like experience.

Man I can’t wait to get on the road.

Allergies or Cold....
by Zdenko Milin on Monday, May 30, 2011 at 3:56pm

So the bike is packed, minus my laptop, and ready to go. I now only have one obstacle between the big trip and myself... In the next 15 hours my body needs to let me know if it is allergies or a cold?
Yes... all this excitement and preparation could be derailed in those next 15 hours. I’m congested, I've got a slight cough that seems to be coming from the tickle at the back of my throat BUT I have no body aches. Well, no more than usual. Thing is my mo., when I get a cold, is a couple of days of these wishy washy symptoms then it hits with the heavy congestion that lays me out. The congestion gets so bad it makes me dizzy and that puts me down for a day or two. The good news is that my allergies have been in high gear lately. Lots of rain followed by a few days of sun and toss in a breeze and there’s a lot of pollen floating around. Said pollen causes the same symptoms minus the dizzy. Now, I've been like this for two days but haven't mentioned it thinking its just allergies. Now that the bike is packed and ready to go I have nothing to do but think about how I feel right now hence the allergies or cold tagline. Tomorrow will be day three and if I’m not dizzy then Ill know its allergies and Ill be on the road.
Departure will be between 6 and 7am rain or shine. Looks like Ill leave under sunshine or at the worst overcast skies. Depending on what the weather decides to do I may hit some rain on the east side of the Cascades but should be out of it by the time I get to the Idaho boarder.
At least I get to ride even if it’s in bad weather or a day later than I wanted. My buddy John (mentioned on my first note) has had to come to the frustrating realization that hell be driving. His bike has had some issues lately and it looks like an aftermarket part has failed. Of course this happened on Saturday and not a snowballs chance in hell he'd get a replacement in time. His plan B is running later than expected so plan C is to drive down and rent a Harley (bwahahahaha). No, not that bad. Its just that hell be on a Harley amongst a sea of Triumphs. That means hell be the butt of all jokes and ridicule cause that’s how we do things.
I've got nothing else for you right now. I don't feel "poetic" as some have called it. I really just want to get this journey started... with my allergies... I hope!

Day 1 (Home to Star Id)
by Zdenko Milin on Tuesday, May 31, 2011 at 10:01pm

I actually slept last night!
I still think it may be a cold but I believe that less today than I did yesterday. Its amazing to me that when I ride no matter the area its like allergies don't exist. Soon as that helmet comes off though its game on with the allergies .
The air is crisp this morning. We left the slider open last night so the living room was filled with last nights cool air. Not quite cold but still crisp. Looking outside I see whitish clouds and even a few hints at clear skies though not quite making it to full blue.
Heck, even the singing birds aren’t pissing me off at this 5am hour.
The news reported I90 as wide-open heading east (duh), its Tuesday, who’s going to be headed east on I90. ME THATS WHO!

I finally hit the road about 7am. Pulled the bike out and fired her up then noticed it was sprinkling. What the F! Ah who am I kidding. Heck, it didn't even really bother me when it started to downpour. I expected rain but I did not expect the heavy rain. The rain that made me pulls over and put on my rain liners for my pants. First time I was ever using those, to think... I debated getting those. It rained for the first 100 miles or so of my trip this morning. I don't really like riding in the rain but I didn't really have a choice now did I. I just kept my pace, stayed away form the semis and rolled on. The weather started to clear up around Ellensburg and by the time I got to Shari’s in Pendleton (the meeting spot for Brent and I) it was actually starting to warm up a bit. The clouds seemed to have gotten higher and I could see a slight tint of blue.
Rain gear stayed on though... I learned a lesson this morning
Brent finally showed up and we had a bite and got on the road. He looks like a lobster. He got a tad too much sun yesterday...lol

Leaving Pendleton after gassing up (bikes and bellies) was a good thing. It was good to know we were on the road to Arizona again. Shortly out of Pendleton is a pass. Bob calls it Cabbage Hill (or was it Cabbage Pass??), either way... it’s a great incline with an awesome combo of sweeping curves and twists. Unfortunately I didn't hit my groove till after we were coming down.
As a rider that is one of the most frustrating and scary things. When you are riding well, your have the line that keeps you safe, the bike and you are as one. You take a break then out of nowhere nothing works. You can’t get comfortable, every line you take is wrong and you even scare yourself at how badly you are riding.
The only way out is to take a mental reset. DONE! We went over a couple more passes. None quite like Cabbage Hill but good enough to get my confidence back.
So what else happened today...
Already talked about the rain, the bad riding...
- There was the all girl gas station. It was just odd that I pulled into a gas station to fill up and every employee and customer were female except for me. It was actually kinda strange. That strange that makes you feel like you need to watch your back. I got outta there quick.
- There was also the very large bee that found the dead air spot behind my windscreen, in front of may face while traveling down the freeway at 85mph. Seriously... this thing was flying around in front of my torso for a few minutes while I was slightly exceeding the speed limit. Those that know my fear of flying insects know how fun this was for me.
- The crosswinds beat the snot out of us for a good hundred miles or so too.... uhh!
Brent and I finally made it to Mikes house here in Star Idaho. All I can say is WOW! I think the garage is over 2000 sq. feet. I have garage envy sooo bad right now.
Mike and Mary are very nice and gracious (is that the right word?) gratuitous... you figure it out, I’m tired and its late, hosts. Appetizers were grapes (red and green), nuts and shrimp cocktail. Dinner was ribs, skirt steak, made from scratch (all of the following) potato salad (AMAZING!), yams (mmmm, brown sugar and cinnamon), coleslaw (that store bought crap doesn't even come close) and I know I’m forgetting something.

So as you can imagine, my belly is full and after 480 miles I’m beat.
Tomorrow will be day two and Bob will be brought into the fold after breakfast at someplace local.
Stay tuned for more....

Day 2 (Star Id to Wellsville UT)
by Zdenko Milin on Wednesday, June 1, 2011 at 8:44pm

Uggggggg.... what a day!!!!
It didn’t start bad. Mike and Mary were amazing hosts. I cannot describe how great we were treated.
We (Brent, Mike and I) met Bob and his friend Bill at Rockies Diner in Boise Id. A cool little 50s themed diner with waitresses on roller skates. All I’m gonna say is check out their Facebook page.



From there we (Brent, Bob and I) hit the road. No interesting bee stories for today. We made it down to Twin Falls in good time and stopped for some sightseeing. We saw a base jumper jump from the Perrine Bridge and had a clear view of the spoke Evel Knievel jumped, tried to, the rocket across the Snake River Canyon. We were unable to persuade Bob to try and jump his rocket across, maybe next time.
All good to this point right. Yeah well....
Pretty much from the time we got on the road after Twin Falls Id to the time we got to Tremonton UT we battled wind. Not breezy winds but some serious wind. Hurricane ****** I’m telling you! Wed get hit with a blast from the right, lean to correct then get hit from the left, correct then nothing, then out of nowhere headwind. I can only describe it as like getting into a boxing ring for four hours and just getting pummeled.
After gassing up in Tremonton UT we headed to Wellsville UT to Brent's Aunts house.


A very nice spread of food (some kick ass Dutch Oven Potatoes) and a ton of his family coming to visit with Brent we are finally ready for some rest and a 400 mile day tomorrow.
Wish us luck!

Day 3 (Wellsville UT to Kanab UT)
by Zdenko Milin on Thursday, June 2, 2011 at 9:11pm



We just got back to the Bob-Bon Inn Motel from dinner at the Silver Spur down the street. The hotel is actually nice for what it is. It’s not the usual kind of place I stay but hey, I’m on an adventure of sorts right! The Silver Spur was also better than expected. I had a burrito that I’m sure will come back to bite me later (hopefully not while I’m riding tomorrow) but oh well.
We rode 393 miles today from Wellsville UT to Kanab UT. We are once again tired but in a good way.
We departed Brent's Aunts house this morning (I already forgot her name, damn!) with cold in the air but blue skies filled with fluffy white clouds. If your following this journey with me you'll notice I mention the skies and clouds a lot. Simple really, white clouds are usually ok, dark colored clouds mean rain. So, to see the white clouds means its gonna be cold but not rainy.
Anyway... blue skies, white clouds, cold and were off.



As soon as we hit the highway guess what.... WIND! Yes today was another wind filled pummeling THE WHOLE WAY! The saving grace is that the route we took (once through the SLC area and rode through Spanish Fork) was freaking amazing. 40 mph sweeping curves that we were blasting through at a solid 60/70mph. Scenery that could have easily been lifted from postcard photos.

Remember that Zen thing I was talking about? Yeah, it was happening...
Spanish Fork, just passed Powerhouse Road, the winds blowing left and right and I’m thinking this is gonna be a looong day! I see it, a yellow sign in the road warning that the next ?? miles will be 40mph curves. The wind kept blowing and hard. I set up for that first curve, get on the outside line, look through the curve, downshift and snap the throttle back, lean the bike and push, adjust my body, the whole time looking through that curve, hit the apex and come out only to set up for the next one. This repeated so many times, so quickly that my riding buddies became distant glints on my mirrors. The wind was still blowing but having little effect on my concentration or bike for that matter.
A quick lance at the GPS and I saw it was time to change roads... Oh man, it was fun while it lasted.
I slow and allow Bob and Brent to catch up. As soon as they were in sight I made the transition via a nice hairpin from US6 to US89 and as though nothing had changed I dove into another set of those amazing 40mph sweepers. This time Brent stayed with me. We were both in that Zen state of mind playing follow the leader through roads that would make the horrific traffic we endured through SLC, the directional snafu and any of the current and previous days wind beatings all worth it!
Aside from being in that moment we saw some pretty cool things today. The scenery, as I mentioned before, was nothing short of amazing. We took a turn off for what looked to be a rest stop that gave us a view of a mountain range that seemed to surround us. Thing was it was behind another set of mountains and was stunning. A couple on their BMW "go anywhere" bikes saw us from the road and actually turned around and came up to the vantage point. Kinda cool. Nice folks, retired and just riding any road they felt like riding for as long as they wanted.


Brent has an affinity for the oddball roadside attraction and was telling us about a sign he saw a few miles back for "Ho Made Pies". As he’s telling us about it I point across the street from the gas station we were at to let him know that the Thunderbird Diner across the street was the home to the "Ho Made Pie". See picture for a visual..

Well, that’s it for now. There will be more tomorrow and for days to come.
Tomorrow is the ride to Prescott for the SWTF. 330 miles.

Day 4 (Kanab UT to Prescott AZ AND arrive at SWTF)
by Zdenko Milin on Friday, June 3, 2011 at 10:05pm

YES, WE MADE IT!!!!!
"Hey Z! Why are you riding to AZ again?"
So I can meet a bunch of people that ride/own/or at one time have ridden or owned either a Triumph America or Speedmaster. The host, Dwight, has been doing this since 2007 and it has become a pilgrimage of sorts for people that are members of Bonnevilleamerica.com and now the BA.com Facebook page.



The trip today was good. No Zen moments like yesterday but some good riding none the less. A BA.com member, Becky, made a suggestion that we should take US89a instead of US89 out of Kanab towards Flagstaff... oh how right she was. WOW! Here’s a teaser pic, I hope the video comes out usable.
It was starting to warm up about the time that picture was taken (I think it was about 11am ish).
We were not gentle on the throttles today either. I think I heard my bike say thank you when I shut it down tonight. LMAO!
I also FINALLY got to see the Grand Canyon though by the time we got there all I wanted to do was take a look, snap a pic, get a magnet and get back to riding. The roads getting to the GC, through the park and leaving the GC were a blast.


We got to out hotel, unloaded then headed to Dwight's house where we were greeted with very loud and welcoming "its about time” “look who finally showed up" and other assorted warm greetings (sarcasm intended).
So this is where it gets odd for some of you that are not a part of BA.com. I've met a handful of the folks that are here at SWTF. Most I've only met through the online family at BA.com or Facebook and like any other forum you really don't think your ever going to meet some of these folks. You might expect that locals would show for this and maybe a few would ride a days ride to get here. NOPE.... there are people here from every corner of the lower 48 and folks that have been riding for days to get here so that we could chat in person, pitch ****** back and forth and have a good time. Oh yeah, were also gonna go for a ride tomorrow... as one very large group of over 25 Triumphs.
I’m almost dumbfounded by the amount of people here and how far some rode and the fact that there are people here that have only been aware of this event for a few days.
I've met old friends and have met new friends. Tomorrow I ride with friends and when we all head our separate ways on Sunday we are still friends through our little web site that brings people with a common interest together.
BTW... it was windy today too

Day 5 (SWTF ride)
by Zdenko Milin on Saturday, June 4, 2011 at 11:34pm

Today we rode for fun rather than to reach a destination. The physical riding doesn't change. Bike, gear, riding style, etc... same as I have been doing for four years now. What is different is the reason for the ride.
The ride started from the hotel here in Prescott with a parking lot full of bikes and people chatting, pitching ****** etc... There were even a few hotel guests that were going around taking pictures of the bikes and talking to owners. The route was laid out (Hotel to Jerome to Sedona to Flagstaff and back via Lake Marry Rd/US260). A total of 236 miles through some absolutely amazing country.
Most people think of Arizona and think desert, hot, hell no! At least I did. The beginning of the route from Prescott to Jerome was HOT and twisty roads. Not even the fun twisty. This was filled with low speed curves (15-20mph) and add to the mix a group of some 25+ bikes and it really makes for some hard riding.
You see my non-riding friends. When it’s one to three riders you can zip around and keep a great pace with good distance. Every rider you add after three requires more space and when you throw in comfort levels that range from "balls to the wall" to "how do I start my bike" it really becomes more about making sure the person in front of you isn't going to cause you to have to dodge their flailing body and sliding bike or worse yet the person behind you isn't going to ride up your tailpipe. It’s a lot like mixing water and oil, its works for a bit but ultimately it’s going to separate.
Anyway...we made it to Jerome unscathed but HOT and tired.
Jerome is an interesting little town. It’s built on a mountainside and seems to have an interesting past. See what I mean ...




We headed form there to Sedona... WOW! The colors, the scenery, just wow. The only thing I didn't like is that the town is a bit bougie. Oh well...
In the picture below look at the rock formation on the right side of the pic. Its called Snoopy Rock It resembles Snoopy sleeping on his doghouse with Woodstock on his nose.
last rock formation on the right side of this picture


From there we rode towards Flagstaff and down Lake Marry Rd. It was right about here that things cooled off and the dessert went from red, brown and dusty to lush green and cool (like home). The roads were sweet and plentiful and the rest of the ride was a blast. At times slow but nonetheless overall it was a good time.
This was at a rest stop... I just love seeing so many bikes lined up like that.


Tomorrow Brent and I ride through the desert to So Cal. I can’t wait to pull up to my parents place on two wheels. My goal is to get a picture of my mom on my bike. Wish me luck!

Day 6 (Prescott AZ to San Pedro CA)
by Zdenko Milin on Sunday, June 5, 2011 at 7:30pm

My eyes opened at 5am, I loaded up the bike and was nice enough to fire it up as the pipes were pointed at the doors. LMAO. I took a quick trip up to Dwight's to pick up the BA.com journal*.
*A member (BigJack) started a traveling journal a few years ago and it ha finally made it way into my possession. It basically travels the country being passed on from one member to the next, one rally to another and has all kinds of things written in it and taped to its pages.

By the time I got back Brent was packed and ready to go. We made a quick gas stop and headed out on AZ89. Now, we headed out with the intent of stopping along the way and getting some food, and we did, but what we didn't know is that we would immediately be thrown onto a road that would wake us the F right up! Holly ******! This 15-mile stretch of AZ89 was all twists and curves ranging from 35 - 20mph. I’m telling you it was like a dream come true and one hell of a wake up. Best of all, I got it all on video.
We proceeded to bomb this section of AZ89 as best as we could, and I believe we did a pretty damn good job. My poor little America didn't know what hit it
We finally found a place to eat in Yarnell AZ called Ranch House Restaurant. When we pulled up there was one car and a couple of Harleys. By the time we were done there was a parking lot full of bikes of all makes and models. As I waited to make the left back onto AZ89 I was passed by a small group of Triumphs (not part of SWTF). It’s always nice to see your brand on the road.
We make the left and once again are thrown head first onto a world class-riding road. Yarnell Hill took us down to the hot desert AZ that we all expect to see but man did it do it in style. No after breakfast coma riding here. It was a repeat of earlier with twists and curves to get the adrenaline flowing and grin permaplastered on your face.
Not much to talk about after that. It got really hot, damn hot! and real straight, damn straight and boring.
I parted ways with Brent in Newport Beach CA and headed to San Pedro where I will be hanging out for a day doing laundry and probably a little riding Why break the trend.
Oh.... I did get my dad to sit on my bike but my mom would only stand by it. Ill give her some guilt tomorrow and see what happens.

Fantastically written recap of the rally here, Z!!!

(...and it was great seein' ya again!!!)

Day 7 (the day or rest)
Not so much really. I will say it was nice not to HAVE TO get on the bike today but I did still get on it and ride.
A lot of people know Im not a fan of So Cal even though I grew up here but I did still want to ride to some of the places I used to go to.
I got out to the garage and pulled her out. Man she was dirty! So i took her to a local place to get her all washed up. They made me a pretty good offer to do a detail on her so I left her and walked back to mom an dads place. A few hours later, actually a lot of hours later she was finally done. DAMN! S-H-I-N-Y!!!

With the bike all cleaned up, the sun shining down on her and making all that chrome twinkle like a vegas showgirls sequined bikini bottom I really wanted to get her on the road for a short bit. As soon as I pulled into the driveway (ok, a few minutes later) a line was forming (not really, I called people out) to get a seat and a picture.

My mom (haha, awesome!), no hands.



My Nephews...
Tommy - looking all cool with my shades on. He could barely get on... LOL!



Nicholas (he was too cool)... Heck, big enough to actually ride this thing.



My Sis in Law, Pam



And the most shocking of all... my aunt was more than happy to throw a leg over.



One of the neighbors came over with her kid and wanted to get a pic but the kid threw a fit so I fired her up to drown out the kid. I then headed to my aunt to visit with her and got the above picture. Stayed there for a bit then took off on a short ride through the Royal Palms area of Sane Pedro then over to a Starbucks to meet my friends Dave and Mike.

All thats left now is to get her packed up tomorrow and get to riding with Brent.
A bit of bummer news... a section of PCH is closed due to landslides. Of course it happens to be in an area just south of Gorda. What this means is that we will have to detour around the Big Sur portion of PCH missing Hurst Castle, Rocky Creek Bridge (the bridge in every picture or video you see of PCH) and a little known attraction called Nit Witt Ridge.
I guess we can only hope for a miracle in the next 48 hours.

No matter what it has been a fantastic trip so far and if it ended right now I could honestly say it has been a blast... heat, wind, rain, allergies and all!
Day 8 (San Pedro Ca to Cambria Ca)

Oh what a day! We had a late start to the day. I didn't fire the bike up till 11am and that was to go meet Brent who was slightly lost due to some poor directions on my part. Amazing what one mistyped word can do to a person. One we knew where he was I geared up and headed out.
My parents were amazingly calm about the bike and seeing it in person. My dad was talking to everyone that would listen about it and my mom actually liked it. That was actually good and now I don't have to worry about them worrying.
Even though we were finally moving we still had a slow time getting on the road. Fuel stop followed by a food stop and a quick detour to a local Triumph dealer and we were FINALY on the way. Im not complaining, it was actually kind of fun being in my old stomping grounds on my bike.
A quick blast up 110N to 405N with a smooth transition to 10W and we were finally on PCH.




As we rode up PCH we quickly got to Malibu Canyon Rd, tipped em to the right and startup up the canyon. What I can only imagine as a fellow rider in his cage flashed up to let us know that LEO (police) was up ahead so we slowed to the speed limit, the gardening truck in front of us did not and was kind enough to distract the LEO so we could enjoy our ride.
We finally made it to the Rockstore and even though it was closed it was really cool to see it.







Now, I like twisty roads, I reeealy like twisty roads. I love that my cruiser can take a road like that and make short work of it. Mulholland was way above my skill level. My bike was making those turns but my ability to keep proper control at higher speeds was lacking. There was no Zen time on this stretch of highway. All I could do was hope that one of the few sportbikes that was out there was not going to come up on me. I wound want to ruin another bikers ride. We FINALLY made it to the top. I added a few new scrapes to my pipes and pegs and a new realization what I am capable of.
Of course we stood there and watched a Ducati Monster and a R1 repeatedly bomb Mulholland. I swear these guys were like machines, one run up, a u turn and another run down only to repeat again and again.

Notice the dumb cager cross the line…



and barely get things together…



We headed down the other side and headed down CA23 (Decker Rd). This is where things got interesting. I was almost all the way down and realized Brent was not behind me. I pulled over and waited and waited and waited and started back up the canyon to find Brent on his bike, a white truck behind him and a guy on a Honda CB1000 next to him. But why was Brent's front when perpendicular to the guard rail and why was his shifter wrapped around his foot peg and when did his leather jacket get those scrapes on his arm.
As we talk about it still it seems as though one of two situations happened.
1) gravel on painted surface could have been a cause.
2) too slow a speed in a very sharp corner could have cause the bike to succumb to gravity.
Either way we got his bike back to rideable condition and minus a few scrapes and a bent part or two he is fine and very sore this morning.

The rest of the day was pretty much a race to beat the sun going down. We weren't able to stay on PCH the whole way and had to get on to 101 for some of it. We were on some amazing roads through the Lompoc and Vandenburg AFB area. We finally rolled into Cambria about 8:30pm and proceeded to unload and look for some dinner.

Tome to start planning todays route so stay tuned for more this evening.

Heres a shot of Brent, bike and waves ...



and mine …




Day 9 Kamikaze Squirrels (Cambria Ca to Santa Cruz Ca)

Where to start, where to start!
This morning in Cambria was pleasant. I don't remember if it was blue skies but it wasn't chilly and not warm, I guess it was just right. The Palms was a nice little motel with courteous help and clean. We took the locals advice and had breakfast at a nice little cafe a few blocks down. I had a hefty breakfast burrito that has stuck with me all day long (at least till I refilled with yet another breakfast burrito, more on that later).
We hit the road about 10am and headed east on CA46. Now that was a real nice ride. We kept the speeds low as there was some sort of bicycle event happening and LEOs were abundant. Not saying we speed but 5-10 over is real easy and fun when your on two wheels. Heck I have friends that normally ride at 20-30 over so don't judge me :P
Anyway... We rolled into Paso Robles, gassed up and headed back west on County Hwy G14 (G14 for short). Yet another amazing road with some nice high speed sweepers*.
* a high speed sweeper would be a curve in the road with a posted limit of about 40mph. Fun and easy.
As we got closer to Lockwood Ca I started noticing something strange... Kamikaze Squirrles (KS for short).
Brent is following and Im lead. The grass starts to get shorter and browner (no trees, or very few) and as we are trucking along the first KS makes its appearance. It runs out to the middle of my lane and doubles back pretty quick. Not even close to needing to brake or swerve so no harm done.
A few miles later KS #2 makes an appearance. This little bastard was brave. It ran clear across the road, waited for me then ran right in front of me. I grabbed a handful of brakes and to slow and made a nice little swerve. After that I decided no more. I am not going to risk my life to not kill a road rat. Now it was game on!
KS #3 runs out and stopped just short of getting his little peanut eating head smashed by my Metzler (brand of MC tire).
Shortly after this Brent come blasting by me and pulls us into a stopping spot in Lockwood cause he had left his tank bag at the gas stop in Paso Robles (40 miles back, about an hour of riding). OK, ****** happens, no big deal. We take a shorter route back then come back to our stopping location in Lockwood. During this trip back to Lockwood KS #4 through #6 made their appearances. I swear if I didn't know any better Id say one of these little buggers jumped through one of my spokes like a ring of fire and made it. That or it really cut it close (most likely the latter).
So... Im not sure what was the deal with the KS's but my imagination is telling me it was some sort of initiation into a Squirrel gang or maybe they are just thrill seekers. This could be the equivalent to base jumping. I did count a handful that didn't make it though. Not by me thank god!

Lets get back to Lockwood here. Google maps shows a road (or combination of roads) that goes from Lockwood through Fort Hunter and onto PCH. By taking this road we would be back on PCH and not have to bypass the good parts between Cambria and Carmel. Sweet... were taking it. Famous last words here!

G14 to Mission Rd to Nacimiento Fergusson Rd is 34 miles and should only take one hour. Sure, it was all going as planned till we got to about 17 miles in. Then it turned into one of the narrowest twistiest roads I have ever been on. It was like the US equivalent of the Death Road in Bolivia. My speedometer never went over 15mph and every blind corner (and there were a lot) was met with a double blip of my horn in hopes the oncoming motorists would slow enough and move over enough so we could pass each other. The remaining 17 miles took about an hour. Did I mention that once we crested the pass that the temps dropped some 10-15 degrees and we were still riding the same dangerous roads but add fog to the mix? No! Well yeah, there you go!
There was NO joy here except at the end when we knew we could finally release the death grip on our handlebars and our asses could relax enough to pry the seats from within them.
We were rewarded for our bravery with this:

Where Nacimiento-Fergusson Rd and PCH meet. View to the left (S).


and this
Where Nacimiento-Fergusson Rd and PCH meet. View to the right (N).


Once relaxed and moving in a normal fashion we made our way up PCH and stopped for a few photo ops. Enjoy the next few pics...

One of many rest stops along PCH.






Bixby Bridge



Brent coming in over Bixby Bridge



Coastal view at Bixby Bridge



Saw this from the side of the road and had to go back for a pic.



Across the parking lot from the above pic was this...



We finally made it as far as Santa Cruz before we decided to stop for the night. We are tired but in a good way and the scenery is simply amazing.

Throughout the day we feel cold one moment only to round a corner and feel warm again. The skies change from clear blue to overcast at the twist of the throttle. We smell grass, flowers, trees and sea air at any given moment. The sounds we hear range from growling pipes to a mellow burble with crashing waves as backup. Its why we ride!

Day 10 (Santa Cruz Ca to Garberville Ca)

Well... we lost more ground today. Only did 278 miles from Santa Cruz to Garberville. Its not that bad really. Were just not making as much ground as we waned. None the less we had a great day of riding.

We departed Santa Cruz and stopped at the Harbor Cafe for breakfast. Gotta say, it was surprisingly great! From there we headed up PCH and into San Fran. Riding in San Fran was a joy (sarcasm). Ill post a video later of what it looks like from my perspective when an idiot cager doesn't take an opportunity to make the light and I get stuck behind them on a severe incline. Lets just say I didn't know my bike could wheelie!
Anyway... We needed to make a pit stop at a Triumph dealer to get a new shift lever for Brent. Amazingly enough they had one in stock. Got it installed and headed to Fort Point for a photo op with the Golden Gate shrouded with fog.

Brent fixing his shifter in the streets on San Francisco.



Getting all artsy with my bike and the Golden Gate.



Another artsy moment with Brents bike featuring mine in the distance and if you squint you'll see Alcatraz.



We made a stop in Santa Rosa for a quick meal then proceeded to show US 101 who's boss. These were some high speed (50+)mph sweepers that were simply a blast. running down 101 through the redwoods was a thrill and there were plenty of bikes on the road. We had one more picture stop at some odd building.

Odd but cool.



As we were approaching Garberville we came around one of those 65mph sweepers and spotted a deer looking at us as if it was wondering if WE were good enough or if it should wait for something better. That pretty much sealed the deal and we rolled into town with the intent of getting a room.

Seems as though Garberville is full O' Harley's for the Redwood Run this weekend. Thank god they area headed south and we are headed north.

Day 11 (Garberville CA to Coos Bay OR)

As I wake up on Day 11 (Im sitting on the bed typing this with my traveling companion Brent snoring in the bed next to me) Im thinking about this trip. Its almost over but still at least a day maybe two more to go.

I was expecting to be in bad shape by now and I am not. My back has been trouble free even though I have been sleeping on motel beds. My arms are doing fine even though they have been in the same position for days. My neck has not had to support that helmet in months and its holding up just fine. Heck, I even started riding with earplugs instead of earbuds to fill my head with music. Of all things my calfs have been sore, go figure.

Todays goal is to get up into Oregon. We need to get to as far up as we can so that I can try and make it to Garrett's (Karens brother) graduation party on Sat eve. I know I will miss the actual ceremony but Im hoping to make the party.

As for today it was a good day. The morning started with the rumbling of all the Harley's getting ready for the Redwood Run. Once awake and packed up we headed back to the place we had dinner at (House of Burgess). I don't think I wrote about this place yet but it looks kinda dumpy. The food was freaking amazing. Everything from scratch and delicious. A nice little surprise in this po dunk town for sure! If I ever pass though again I will be stopping!

We headed out and stop #1 was to drive through a tree. We headed north on 101 and took exit 645 to follow Avenue of the Giants to the Shrine Drive Through Tree.

Shrine Drive Through Tree (guarded by Bigfoot)



Me riding through a Redwood.



Brent driving through a Redwood.



After making our little side trip we headed back North on 101. It was cold and overcast till we got north of Eureka. Then it opened up for us for a bit. Blue skies and coastline. As we were making good time up 101 we came upon this little gem. A heard of Roosevelt Elk.

Roosevelt Elk Heard



Of course there was a stop to take a pic in front of Paul Bunyan and his blue ox Babe.
Trees of Mystery, Klamath Ca



Hehe... yes I took a pic... Blue ox balls. hehe



After screwing around and all these stops it was time for some food. We made our way to the Hungry Clam (hehe) for lunch and it was AMAZING! Damn! The food stops on this trip have been awesome!
This place is in Brookings OR.
I had the shrimp and crab melt with a cup of chowder... o yeah! it was good!

The Hungry Clam, Brookings OR



From there we headed north on 101 again. Its a good thing lunch was good cause we needed that energy for the roads. More of awesome 45+mph sweepers, blue skies and warming sun. Still cold but the sun took the edge off. After a scenery stop at Port Orford OR (below) the skies closed up and things got cold and overcast.

Port Orford OR



Brent waiting for me to take my pic in Port Orford …



We finally arrived at a stopping point in Coos Bay OR and as we were checking in the rumble of bikes fell upon us. To our surprise it was a group of lady riders all on some really nice Motor Co bikes (Harleys). They obviously had great senses of humor as you can see below...

NT NUTS, IB NUTS, ME TOO



Tomorrow draws in the close to my trip. It wont be 100% done but I will make it into Vancouver WA in the afternoon/evening where I will check into a hotel, get ready for Garretts party and head to that. Sunday will be the true end of my trip when I arrive home to my garage and my bed and to Karen.

Day 12 The End (Coos Bay OR to Vancouver WA)

Today draws in the end of this trip. Like I mentioned yesterday there is still one leg left on Sun morning from Vancouver to home (Sammamish WA) but that will be all fwy and no scenery stop (maybe). Jut the usual gas stations along the way.

Today was a short day (only 219 miles) and it seemed to fly by. There weren't a lot of stops and that included lunch. Brent was so close to home I think he wanted to see Stella and the wife and I really wanted to make Garrtes grad party, that said I think that helped us power through the day.
We did make one scenery stop that turned out to be a two-fer...
We stopped at the Heceta Head turn out where we had a view of Heceta Head lighthouse and the sea lions. Here are a few pics...

Our bikes with Heceta in the background.



Sea Lions... minus caves



Heceta Lighthouse

Gosh darn it, "Tales from the Road" just doesn't get read enough and for some reason seems to sit obscurely in the background of the forum.

Just read your 'dissertation' and pictorial and found it most informative and entertaining. The adventure you had can only be described as enviable... making me hope someday... someday I'll be able to make the trek myself.

Thanks for the write up Z!!

We started out in los angeles during a sort of heat wave across the region. It was 110 in needles at midnight. We pulled in to the grand canyon at about 3am. The next day we drove through the grandest canyon i've ever laid my eyes on. There was a thunder and lighting storm lingering around the area which made for some ideal lighting situations. The skies were amazing and there is no hdr involved on any of the photos for the whole trip. We hit our first batch of heavy rain while riding in the grand canyon. One second it was nice and sunny and the next we were laughing hysterically at how drenched we were. We left out of the east entrance of the canyon and headed up through navajo territory on the 89 towards kanab. every 1/2 mile or so there are little structures on the side of the road where the navajo sell navajo made items. we stopped at one and i purchased a little bear necklace that's supposed to bring good luck and strength (which just about everything they sell brings.) that night we tried to make it to steve's property by navajo lake which is located just north of zion off hwy 14. we were to camp there and give him an update on the property. after driving up and down a muddy dirt road a few times and nearly missing dozens of elk, we couldn't find his property and ended up staying at a local campground. the next day we headed over to the 15nb and drove all the way up into idaho. i'm sorry if you're from utah but the people we meant there were not friendly. we stopped at the first town in malad, idaho. we decided to stay in a motel and get some drinks. we meant some very nice people at the bar chat and chew. the photo of the motel sign is from malad and the rooms were awesome and the breakfast the next morning was one of the bests i've had. that day we headed up the 15 through idaho and made a stop in pocotello where we needed to buy a charger that could plug into the bike. we went to a harley shop, got some ****** about having a triumph and not a "real bike", and bought what we needed. it was a cigarette type car charger but we needed a usb adapter so we went to radioshack. the harley charger zapped two different usb adapters so we went back to the harley shop to ask what was up and to get heckled for having a triumph again. after a couple hours of the harley guy telling us how it works fine on his bike and it's probably because of a british electrical system (******) we discovered that his harley part had the polarity hooked up wrong. so f.u. harely guy. we left pocotello and entered montana and yellowstone through the west entrance. at the west entrance is the town of yellowstone and we bought some badass hats there, drank beer, ate chicken fried steak, and asked a ranger if it was possible to take down a grizzly with an axe. every time i asked that question on the trip people basically told me a story about how they new someone with a gun who was mauled and killed. i say they didn't want it bad enough. we camped in madison campground the first 3 nights which is a beautiful campground with the madison and firehole rivers connecting right at the door step. the photos of the bench and us sitting river side are here. yellowstone is the most unreal and wild place i've ever seen. the geyser basins are kind of like mars meets armageddon. all the colors on those photos are the actual colors. i didn't tweak any of them. the shoshone would actually take the mud from some of the mud pots and use them to paint on there horses. they also rubbed it on their fresh hides to clean the smoke out of them without damaging the hide. We also found out while we were in madison that a man was killed by a grizzly two days before we got there about two miles away from us. the photo of the bear warning sign is where that happened. we spent the next 2 nights in the tower campground which is way smaller and more remote located closer to the north east entrance. the photo of jasmine in the hammock is that campground. there is also a river that runs through it which is the source of tower falls. while in the park we meant a couple biker dudes who told us about this highway called bear tooth highway and it's supposed to be the "best road in america." they said "go check it out one morning it's beautiful. so we decided to take a little trip over bear tooth. we didn't realize it was going to be 3 hours of freezing cold high winds along the edge of an 11,000 ft summit to the other side. when we finally got to the other side we came to the town of redlodge montana. the bartender there told us of a different warmer way to head back on through wyoming so we did. while on this road the bike broke down, we thought. we think it's the ignition pick up coil. the photos of the sunlight spilling onto the base of the mountains is where we broke down. there was nothing around at all but we remembered a small bar we passed a ways back. so the suns setting and jasmine and i are pushing the bike down the road to a downhill where we hop on and coast down to the bar. when we get to the bar an old man, maybe 90, that we can barely understand, says "you guys broken down? you can stay in my trailer tonight if you want." for some reason he had a little trailer parked in the parking lot of the bar, the edeleweiss. Shocked, and not knowing what else to do we say yes. Harry gave us the key and said he'll back in the morning to drive us back into redlodge where we saw a harley shop. so we unload are stuff and go to grab a drink in the bar. at the bar were the gnarliest looking cowboys i had ever seen. spurs and all. and they didn't look pleased to see us. the first thing i thought of us was deliverence. but the bartender tra (cy) was extremely pleasant. she let us use the phone, since both of ours were dead. after talking with adrian my mechanic, we realized the part i needed was a triumph part and i couldn't get it from a harley shop. so we didn't want to stay in harry's trailer and wanted to get back to cody which is a bigger city with motels. this whole time our tent is still set up back in yellowstone with all our ******. aaa tells us it'll be $300 for a tow to cody. so we start freaking out. a couple at the end of the bar see what's going on and tell us they have a trailor and will give us a ride into town. there names are joe and janet and are extremely good people, which we concluded all people in wyoming are, even the scary cowboys. we get a motel in cody that had an african safari theme. fake elephants and crap in the lobby. the next day i walk my bike over to cody's custom cycles. the owner was very nice to let me use his tools for some troubleshooting. so i'm checking resistance on some of the wiring and am going to pull the plugs to check for compression (like adrian told me to do.) while picking up the gas tank i notice that it's way to light. no way. i put the tank back on, switch it to reserve and it starts right up. woops. apparently when we stopped in redlodge for gas i never put it in because my tripometer said i was only at 40 miles. so on my way back to the motel i stop to grab jaz a beer and tell her about the good and bad news. she took it well. i think it was the beer. we went back to yellowstone for another night at our campground and left the next day. we stopped had a few beers and exited the park through the south entrance towards the tetons. on our way out there was a line of traffic held up by a heard of buffalo. we drove right up to the front of the line to get a good look. we were kinda buzzed. as soon as we get up there a giant buffalo stops in the middle of the road and gives us a stare down. a ranger pulls up next to us in her truck and says "what the hell are you guys doing? do you want to die?!!!!" ahhhhh. we drove down through the tetons and into jacksonhole wyoming where there's a bar called the cowboy bar. this place is insane. all the barstools are actually horse saddles. we get a beer and a shot of whiskey and go outside to leave. when we get out front we start talking to a couple guys who's bikes were parked next to mine. as we're talking to them a guy who appears to be wasted, gets up from a bench and stumbles into my bike and knocks it over. i say "w. t. f. duuuuuuuuuuuude!!!" pandemonium breaks out. i yell at the guy to stay where he's at and tell jazz to call the police because he's an old wasted guy. one of the guys we were talking to, tony, helps me pick up my bike. as i'm checking the damage (smashed up headlight) tony holds the drunk guy who's trying to leave. the drunk guy get's up and starts freaking out, swinging at tony, and kicks tony in the nuts!! i run over, tackle the guy to the ground and pin him by his shoulders. as i tackled him a box of cheez-its go flying all over the place! the cops come and discover the guy is not drunk at all but actually insane and homeless. so i write the damage off as bad luck and tony presses charges for assault to get the guy back off the street. there's a photo of the guy in cuffs. when it clears up a lady comes up to me, gives me a 20 and says i don't want you to leave this town thinking badly of it. tony says "here's my number, if you guys break down anywhere i'm coming with my hummer and trailer and i'm driving you back to los angeles!" all the people in wyoming are nice (except the local crazy guy.) we leave to look for a campsite, the only one we find is completely booked and it's 10:30 at night. so we call tony to ask if he's knows of any others orrrrrrr if we can possibly put up our tent in his front yard. He says "come over. you're staying on my living room floor." Tony had the most amazing log cabin i've every seen. the next day we take off towards zion but only make it to wasatch national forrest in northern utah. we camped in a surprisingly pleasant little campground and made it down to zion the next afternoon. zion is ridiculous. i wish we could of stayed there longer but we had to get home the next day so jaz could go to work. on our way home it was slightly rainy out of utah and into nevada which was nice because it kept us cool. we stopped at the orleans and grabbed a drink at the alligator bar and rode though holiday traffic all the way to baker where it became hellishly hot. luckily our friend tony told us about a sweet trick when it gets that hot. we bought a bag of ice and stuck it in between us and just let it melt all the way home to venice. thanks for reading about our trip. now i'll remember all the details forever.

My wife and son were in Cambridge Ontario this week checking out apartments (he's moving). From there, they decided to travel to Montreal for some site seeing. My wife suggested a dinner date Friday evening and since I'm always looking for an excuse to ride, I agreed.

Thursday afternoon I left Timmins at 4:30 pm. It was 15C and sunny. Stopped in New Liskeard for gas and made my way to North Bay. Got in at 8:30pm. Temps had dropped to 8C and I had stopped to put on my Froggtoggs to keep warm. Spent the evening with my sister and brother in law. I cut a swath through bug country contributing to the downfall of several millions blackflys.

Friday morning I left early. Temp was 9C and cloudy but promised to be a good day. Headed easy toward Mattawa then south to Ottawa. At one point I went 240km without going to reserve near Cobden. The sky cleared with temps going up with the sunny skies. Made my way to Ottawa and the Goodtime Center (Triumph Dealer) where I purchased some parts (filter, brake pads, cleaner, etc). The salesman tried to get me to take a Thunderbird out for a ride but I was running late for my dinner date. Left for Montreal and missed most of the Friday traffic escaping the city. Got in at 6:00 pm. We went for dinner by 7:00 then spent the evening by the pool relaxing.

Saturday I decided to travel back rather than spend the day shopping in Montreal....aren't I good! Heading westbound on the TransCanada I spotted an America rider. I quickly caught up with him and we road side by side for 40 kms. When we finally parted company we gave each other the thumbs up and I headed south for the 401 and Belleville Ontario. Along the way I had to switch to reserve at the 200km mark (far cry from 240 the day before). Travelling at over 130k really sucks gas. Multi lane interstates aren't my cup of tea. Temps climbed to over 30C. Finally got to Belleville and some twisty 2 lane blacktop. Headed north from there on Highway 62. At Bancroft I stopped for a bite and perused the scenery. Spoke with a trucker who was infatuated with my Triumph. He was impressed with how much the engine looked like the original. Made my way to Algonquin Park, west on Highway 60 stopping along the way to admire the scenery. Saw 1 moose, 2 deer and 3 bears. The bug carnage was horrible. I literally couldn't see out my windshield. Every other protruding part on my bike including my helmet, boots, jeans, jacket and gloves were covered. Made my way to Huntville then caught Highway 11 north to North Bay where I spend a second evening with my sister and brother in law. He owns a 750 Shadow and wants to upgrade to a .....cough Harley. After several sessions on the Triumph website, he might become a convert... We spent the evening having a good laugh watching the movie "The Hangover".

Sunday morning I left early to beat the heat. Headed north on Highway 11 till I got to New Liskard and Tim Hortons. There were at least 20 bikes in the parking lot and guess whose ride became the center of attention? During the whole trip I only saw that one other Triumph along the way. After a half hour talking with the group I headed north and arrived home at 1:30 pm. I bet you I removed at least a pound of bug guts from my bike.

Spent some time in the afternoon cleaning her up, making her purdy then relaxed. The missus wasn't supposed to be home until late that evening.

All in all, it was a great dinner trip and I would do it again in a heartbeat. Oh, I did have to pay also!

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Great story, great dinner date, great ride (well,except for the bugs)!

Submitted by Erle

ZEN AND THE ART OF MOTORCYCLE MAINTENANCE REVISITED
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What a WONDERFUL time !!!



After being a member of the BonnevilleAmerica.com (BA.com) web site for several years, I decided it was time to venture out and meet some of the characters I have interacted with over the years.
It started out as a plan for a four day, twelve hundred plus mile, five hundred dollar trip for one, and quickly morphed into a thirteen day, twenty two hundred mile, fifteen hundred dollar adventure for two that will surely be one of the most cherished, memorable times of my life.
It started with the only destination being Dahlonega, Georgia, a trip for one, for the annual BA.com Georgia Rally. After establishing a "No Highway" route on Google Maps to Dahlonega, a quick tab on the west directional arrow showed that Adairsville, GA. was only a short ride, and it would afford the perfect opportunity to visit with my fathers side of my family for a day.
While contemplating lodging in or around Dahlonega, that little light went off in my head, as I quarried how far away my sister (Laura) and brother-in-laws' (Richard) vacation cabin was. SURPRISE! It's like, fifty eight miles! COOL! And here's where that bright little bulb goes off again. I've always heard of the Tail of the Dragon, and the other six or seven notorious roads in and around North Carolina and Tennessee, and a little twitch of the finger on Google Maps showed about sixty eight miles from the cabin. BAZINGA !!! The trip is now finalized, or so I thought!
I'm going from Orlando to just outside of Hayesville, NC., to the cabin tucked in the woods along the Hiawassee River for some peace and quiet time to reflect on my existence and the last few decades of fatherhood, raising two wonderful and beautiful children, and my beautiful wife sent straight from the Heavens above, into a life that is less than she deserves.
After a few days alone, I would leave Friday morning and ride into Dahlonega, to meet up with the two dozen or so people that I've never met, with the only common thread being an interest in one specific model of one specific brand of motorcycle, the infamous Triumph America (Bonneville America), and it's cousin the Triumph Speedmaster. After a day of traversing the North Georgia Mountains, there would be some social time before retiring, readying myself for a second day of riding, followed by a hour or two travel to get to family in Adairsville, GA., Then the trip home.


NOT !


While discussing the itinerary with the wife, JUNIOR SPOUTS OFF, "I WANNA GO !"

PERFECT ! Now I truly saw the trip in a different light. What a wonderful thing to look forward to. But, here comes that little light again! What about John, my other son. We could rent another bike for him, and it would be the Three Amigos ! PERFECT ! Well, John couldn't get away from his work in Melbourne on such short notice, so here's how the excursion went down.


Steven and I left Orlando on Monday morning, the 14th day of May, 2012.
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We had 545 miles to go (according to Google Maps), and two days to get there. We arrived with 600 miles on the odometer, possibly due to a missed turn or two.
Monday we traveled various sections of US 441, FL 19, US 17, US 1, US 23, GA 121, GA 15, GA-4, with the ONLY common denominator being NORTH !, and rode into HazelHurst, GA., at about 6 PM. The plans to use the pool after a diner in town didn't pan out, as, for SOME UNKNOWN reason, we passed out in our motel room watching some TV before going to the pool. Go figure.

Tuesday, 5/15, we followed some of the afore mentioned routes, along with portions of GA 19, GA 27, US 341, GA 24, US 129, GA 105, GA 385, GA 17, GA 75, GA 2, US 76, GA 515, NC 69, US 64, (I'm NOT making this up!), numerous by-pass routes, and a handful of local roads (trails/paths?) to arrive at the cabin around 6 PM.
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We unloaded the gear from our expandable, over stuffed, bulging baggage and made a trip back into town for groceries, only to push the capacities of our bags to the extreme once again. When we got back to the cabin, we were overcome by the freezing (conditioned) air inside the cabin, and again, rendered unconscious. http://i422.photobucket.com/albums/pp309/Opissant/Bike%20trip/P1010053.jpg

Our plans for Wednesday got canceled by popular consciences, WE WERE SORE ! WE WERE TIRED ! and we WEREN'T leaving the cabin !
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We did manage to make short trips into town for more groceries. We made a trip to Bear Cove at Fires Creek http://i422.photobucket.com/albums/pp309/Opissant/Bike%20trip/P1010032.jpg (a luxury mountain community developed by Richard & Laura), a short trip into the Nantahala National Forest (until I realized that on the way back out, we'd be closer to the cliff into the abyss, instead of the wall of doom on our right as we rode in), and a short resting spell at the Bear Creek Pavilion on the Hiawassee River http://i422.photobucket.com/albums/pp309/Opissant/Bike%20trip/P1010042.jpg before heading back to paradise for the rest of the evening.

Thursday, 5/17, we planed to ride some of the roads we heard about around NC/TN (the Dragon, etc.), but Steven wasn't feeling well enough to ride. The anxiety from all he read about The Tail of the Dragon MAY have had something to do with that, not to mention his experiences with the forest/mountain roads we traveled over the last two days.

DID I MENTION THE ROADS! ??

MY GOD ! ROADS !?, REALLY !?? http://i422.photobucket.com/albums/pp309/Opissant/Bike%20trip/P1010030.jpg
Some of these were merely glorious Mountain Goat Trails! Paved, BUT THAT'S IT! Like eight feet wide at the most! The blind, steep grade, 200 degree plus turns provided a white knuckle, squeeze-the-tank-with-your-knees-till-it-pops experience like no other. Most had MAYBE two feet of shoulder before you were off into the top of the trees (river IF you were lucky) on one side, or into the face of the mountain on the other! When you bitched about it to the locals, they responded "they were paved!?" WHAT was MY problem!??
Anyway, I decided to go ride the Dragon myself, and see what it was all about.
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Well, in reality, the most dangerous thing about the Dragon was the PEOPLE! The butt holes that thought they were Gary Nixon (DANG! Showin' MY age here, ay!), posers with WAY too much power in they're throttle hand, or in the case of the "Tuners", under they're foot! When I got back to the cabin, after a short twenty minutes caught in the COLD rain, I was able to tell Steven that the Dragon was NOTHING compared to the roads we rode around Hayesville, the cabin, and the Nantahala Forest. I think he's ready to give it a go now.

Friday, 5/18, Steven and I left Hayesville for Dahlonega, to meet everyone (most everyone) for the Rally. I believe there were about 18 bikes, and about 25 people. Due to the slower speeds we traveled, we barely made it to the gathering spot, with about ten minutes to spare. We rode some beautiful, challenging mountain roads into the afternoon,
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before heading 18 miles south to Dawsonville, GA., where we had reservations at the Super 8 motel, due to the sole reason that they had an indoor, heated pool and spa. That was very much one of the biggest pleasantries we experienced after twelve hours of travels. Just like a great massage. Man!, was that needed!

Saturday, Steven was having one of his days again, and couldn't get out of the room for the ride. I went alone to meet everyone for the last day of the Rally. We rode a different route through the mountains,
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but this time, I was SOOO... much more relaxed. Do you know the stress, fear, and anxiety of riding with a loved one, your CHILD, on technical, challenging, unfamiliar roads, with THREE dimensions when your only used to two !?? It ALMOST negates the joy. Anyway, Steven didn't totally miss out on a vacation day, he went to the theater behind the motel and saw two movies, The Avengers and Dark Shadows. We both enjoyed the spa in the evening and did a little sunglass shopping at the local mall. (which keeps the town on the map)

Sunday, expected to be spent with the family in Adairsville, was a BUST! Talking to a family member revealed a major feud was in full swing amongst the family's. Threats to shoot, sue, maim, harassment, you name it, they were at it. No place to be, even though we haven't seen them in two decades. Dang! Well, anyway, we just took a leisurely ride back to NC., and another trip to the grocers, before just enjoying a slow paced ride along the Hiawassee River,
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and an evening with only the fireflies and stars. Very relaxing.

Monday, 5/21, was PICTURE DAY!
We went around Sweetwater Bend Road, Lance Cove Road, along the Hiawassee River, ventured out East and West of Hayesville, and walked around some of Sweetwater Bend snapping off pictures like we were at a wedding reception. Tourists!

Tuesday, 5/22.
Ah Tuesday! Manly man day. Weekend warriors at their best! Out to set new records on some of the most notorious, treacherous technical roads in the world! (or at least to make it look that way in still shots). Yes, Tuesday was the day for the father and his son to tempt fate, test their skills, and hopefully survive to tell the tails from the most coveted roads in the motorcycle kingdom. The Dragon (US-129), Moonshiner 28 (NC 28), and The Mile High Legend - Cherohala Skyway (NC 143 & NC 165)

The Tail of the Dragon. http://i422.photobucket.com/albums/pp309/Opissant/Bike%20trip/P1010074.jpg

From the cabin it took one hour and 35 minutes to go what is twenty-five miles by way of the Crow. Before entering the Dragon, we passed the Cheoah/Fugitive Dam (used in the television series "The Fugitive"), where Lake Calderwood changes to Cheoah Lake, and stop for reflection at the Crossroads Of Time- Deal's Gap.
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The next twenty three miles (out & back) provide some of the most nerve racking, off camber, one hundred and eighty degree (plus) hair-pin turns (in THREE dimensions) we've ever encountered. With names like "The Wall", "The Chicanes", "Gravity Cavity", "Busa Bash", "Brake or Bust Bend", "Copper-Head Corner", "Little Whip", "Triple Apex Corner", "The Whip", "Pearly Gates", ... Well, you get the picture.
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Now the adrenalin won't stop. We take the Moonshiner 28, pass Fontana Dam, and some of the Cherohala Skyway, before lunch in Robbinsville.
We agree, we're tired, fatigued, and most ready to kick our feet up and just relax, so it's a "Full-on" run to the cabin. Sleep never came so easily.

Wednesday, 5/23, we didn't want to do anything! Our Fatty Cells squeezed out just enough Testosterone to ride over the Chatuge Dam,
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ride to the Boundary Waters Resort & Marina to check things out for a water day tomorrow, NO MOTORCYCLES!
We also checked things out at the public swimming park in Hiawassee, the Resort Marina, as well as a run through Hiawassee, before returning to the cabin for the evening.

Thursday, 5/24, we swore-off the motorcycles, and changed things up for a water day on Lake Chatuge.
We went back to Boundary Waters Resort & Marina and rented the little "Graig-Cat" we checked out yesturday. What a BLAST! I suggest anyone who's going to rent a watercraft consider one of these, even as an accessory to a larger boat or pontoon. It looks like a sheet of plywood with lawn chairs, a outboard motor, and the mandatory bimini top. It's like a go-cart on water (and styroids).
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With Steven at the controls, and music blasting from the on board CD/radio, we did some really "stupid dog tricks". Isn't it amazing what you'll allow to be done when on a rental!? Kinda like when I'd rent a Harley for a day, and when I was done, and the "Kids" wanted to ride the bike, I'm like "Sure, take it". How many fathers would say that to their eighteen and twenty year old kids? Anyway, how we got back without assistance (and in one piece) I'm not quite sure. We ran all over Lake Chatuge. From the remote south end to the dam closer to the north end. Steven would throw that thing into a full on power turn, do a "donut" until it's motion stalled, and back off again into what ever direction it was pointed. I believe the dock attendant KNEW something was up when we brought it back, with both of us giggling and smiling like the Cheshire Cat, almost unable to look him straight in the eye. Yes, we got our monies worth (and adrenaline rush) out of that one.
On our way back to the cabin, we stopped at Fun world to rent some go-carts. We were lookin' forward to the smell of tire smoke on asphalt, but they stopped renting the carts a while back, and only had an indoor skating rink, and many, many games.
We left and rode to the Brasstown Valley Resort,
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thinkin' we'd enjoy a Hot Dog and a Burger, but when we parked, looked around, and looked at ourselves, we decided we probably wouldn't be welcomed. At least NOT at the front entry. Calling a close to the day, we made one last blast through Hayesville before relaxing with the computer and bedding down early in preparation for an early departure tomorrow for home. Oh yeah, the On-line service or modem was not working properly the other night, so we had an appointment with the service provider for 4:30 (1630 hr's) to get it sorted out. Right! Any thoughts on what service is like that far up in the mountains!?? Anyway, NO, it never happened!

Friday, 5/25, Oh Friday! We were packed and ready at 10:00. I'd be lyin' if I tried to say that we were lookin' forward to the days ride. Have you ever heard the saying "Too much of a good thing"? Steve and I know just what they meant. It was pretty good to get out of the mountains, and get back to two dimensional turf. We planed the whole trip excluding all major highways, so the roads were really good, and basically traffic free. No congestion like we're accustom to in Orlando. Traveling the old school way (Well, NOT by the stars and shadows, but NO GPS either) makes for a, shall I say, different experience, when on motorcycles. No one can study the map while you proceed on down the highway. No sir, when you finally realize you MAY not be going in the right direction, you STOP and pull out the map. This added a great amount of stress to me, and, by the look Steven would give me, a bit of displeasure to him.
We finally got to our pre-determined half way point, and again spent the night at the McDonalds Lodge in Hazelhurst. Man, was the pool a welcome sight! We floated in that pool for over an hour, before heading out to the local Pizza-Hut. I got us lost looking for it, and finally gave in to Stevens insistence that HE knew right where it was. He did.
Back at the lodge we turned on the T.V. for some relaxation, but it wasn't necessary. We were BOTH out like a light, before the screen even lit up!

Saturday, 5/26. THE LAST DAY !

Saturday, 5/26. THE LAST DAY ! The last day!? Oh NO! Such a bitter sweet day. All kinds of thoughts going through my head as we hit the road this morning.
I'm following Steven, watching his every move, reminiscing about the last twenty three years raising that boy. I'm thinking about just how much I love him, how much joy he's brought into my life, the hard knocks and the hard row he's had to hoe. I'm thinking back to the decade in Scouting, the BMX racing, the soccer, shooting sports, bow and arrows, dirt bikes, and how he was always ready and willing to help me work on anything around the house. I'm watching him lean and wiggle the bike down the road, and taking his hands off the handlebars, after I've chastised him for this type of behavior over and over. I'm sure he does it on purpose, JUST to get a rise out of me. Damn kid!
John has left our house, and is living in Melbourne. Steven is the last tangible link I have to my life as I've known it for the last twenty plus years. When he leaves, there will be a large void in my house, and in my heart, and selfishly, I'm NOT looking forward to that. As he meanders blissfully down the road, I think of just how nice this trip has been. Next year I hope John will be able to go. There's something about traveling to unknown places, without others, no distracting electronics, and being together all day, every motel and meal together, relaxing evenings with no distractions to wedge their way between good conversation, conversations about the future wishes, wants, and desires.
Our last photo is at the "Welcome to Florida" sign as we cross the river between Georgia and Florida on Hwy 441.
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At this point, for the first time since we left twelve days ago, I can truly relax and enjoy the sights. I know the way home from here, and no longer must I fret over where to turn, which road to take, and the thought of the time involved in making a wrong turn. No, from here the trip takes on a whole different feeling.
For the first time, time is no longer a concern. We'll be home today, sometime today, and it just doesn't matter when.
It's late in the afternoon, close to evening, and we finally make the last turn onto our street. Everything is the same, yet everything seems just a little different. One intersection, two, three, four, and there it is. Our house! Yep, "Our house, what a very very very fine house..." is running through my brain. We stop in the drive, and a minute passes before we put a foot down and remove ourselves from the saddle that has become one with our behinds. We struggle to climb the steps of the porch. We enter through the front door, and collapse in the living room. Donna's happy to see us, and has many questions she wants to know about the trip. It takes a few minutes to decompress, but we begin to relive the experience to her.
Now, it's less than three hundred and sixty days...

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I had the week off, leading up to the North Texas Norton Owner's Association's 26th? Annual Lake O' The Pines Rallye, out of Jefferson, Tx (far North East Texas, just south of Texarkana).

After getting caught up around the house I left Tuesday about noon, and rode every crooked road I could find between here and Natchitoches, La., where my youngest son attends Northwestern State University. I went east to Dayton, Tx, then up through Tarkington, to Rye, then over to Dallardsville, then up and around the Indian Reservation to Camden, then Chester, the over to Colmeniel, then east on 255 to the Lake Sam Rayburn Dam, then up Hwy. 87 to Hemphill, then up to Milam over to Many, La., then into Natchitoches. Not the shortest, quickest, or most-direct route.

I spent the night there, then Wednesday morning, I got up, made a room rer serration at an EconoLodge in Mountain Home, Ar., and I took every crooked road between Winfield, La., and Mountain Home. Perfect weather, just me and my SM. I could not believe how nice Arkansas is, from the Louisianna state line all the way up into Buffalo River Territory. Without a Garmin, I did miss a turn or two along the way, but even the detours to get back on track I would gladly re-ride again! I got to Mountain Home before dark, ready for a shower and a good meal.

Thursday morning, I woke up to a changing weather forecast, hit the road, an headed up into Missouri, turning west again just south of Branson, cutting across Table Rock Lake on Hwy. 86, following that across Missouri to State Hwy. P, then back south into Arkansas, to the Pea Ridge Civil War Battlefield, where I stopped for a couple of hours to take it all in, then, things got a little screwy, and I really do think now I want a Garmin.

The plan was to cut due West across the Oklahoma state line, hit Hwy. 59, then South down 59 to Hwy. 259, which would take me back to Texas, and right to the Rally. I missed a turn after Pea Ridge, and wound up scooting down I-540 to Springdale, then I cut west on 412 to pickup 59 finally at Siloam Springs, Ok., and everything was great until I got into Van Buren. Van Buren, Ar.? (my intent was to stay in Oklahoma...). Next thing I know, I've wasted a couple of hours trying to find my way out of Van Buren/Ft. Smith, Ar., I lost track of 59, finally just headed west on Hwy. 64, and when it intersected I-40 again, I through my hands up and called it a day. I was in Sallisaw, Ok., and in the parking lot of the Sallisaw Inn, when I pulled my phone out and realized I was still just west of Ft. Smith....and it was about 7:00, getting dark....time for another shower and something to eat.

Friday morning the thunderstorms rolled through about 6:00, and the radar looked to be clear behind them, and I had figured out hat Hwy. 59 runs right through Sallisaw...so after a good breakfast, I headed south, into the Ouachitas....and soon, it looked like I was headed straight into a heavy thunderstorm. But it was only the clouds, sitting right down on the mountains.

All I had on, was all I had - a leather short over a cotton shirt worn over a wool base layer, and my Triumph Kevlar Jeans...it looked like I was about to get wet!

I pulled over at the pull-out for the scenic Talimena Drive cut-off. It was such a heavy fog, you could see the mist falling. Just shy of being actual rain, but the roads were sloggy wet, and visibility was very, very limited. I had been listening to a great new playlist I titled "Heading to California"( Led Zepelin), which had Joe Walsh, Stones, a good smattering of Lynard Skynard and Allman Brothers, Traffic, Blind Faith, Niel Young.....I was so stoked I just had to stop in the rain and walk around a bit....of course taking my helmet off did allow my head to get wet.....then down the wet mountain again....one of the best stretches of road I had been on yet. My leather shirt was soaked for the first time even getting wet, but, it never soaked through to my shirt worn underneath. Jeans wet from boots down, and I knew I would soon be in Texas, warmer weather, and with enough miles to cover yet to blow-dry getting there.

And I did.

And the rally was great, though a little cooler than most of us had prepared for, but campfires aplenty, along with good company, and some very fine old motorcycles.

Saturday, I never started my bike, just hanging out at the rally all day.

Today, I cut back down through the woods to Livingston, Tx., fora short visit with Mom & Dad, then back down though the woods to Huston, again.

1717 miles

A man can not pinch himself any more than I have the last 6 days. Just too good to be true. I can't believe I just did all that, solo, and I'm ready to do it all over again, too!

Posted this story on Facebook as it was easier to include photo's.

Adventures On The Road - Greece 2013

ZEN AND THE ART OF MOTORCYCLE MAINTENANCE REVISITED
PART TWO


"...I think of just how nice this trip has been. Next year I hope John will be able to go." -- R. Farmer (5/2012)


"Be careful what you wish for" -- St Teresa of Avila (1515-1582)


Yep! No monies, little planing, and two bikes in need of service. But, "DAMN THE TORPEDOES, FULL SPEED AHEAD!" -- Admiral David Glasgow Farragut (1801-1870).
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After John heard the stories and saw the pictures of last years trip Steven and I took through some of the Southeast States in May of 2012, he sure as hell was NOT going to miss out on this springs trip. Nope, it was upon his desires that I confirmed we would indeed make the trip again, even though I haven't recovered from the economic impact of LAST YEARS trip! For what it's worth, I've NEVER recovered from ANY economic impacts I've incurred since I became an adult. (Juries STILL out on when that occurred)

Anyway, John worked hard to secure two weeks off from his work. With the corporate offices being in NC., and his properties the only two in Melbourne, and him being the sole person on the companies payroll in Melbourne (with the exception of his part time employee Patrick), it was a daunting task.

THANK YOU PATRICK! If you didn't come through, THE TRIP NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!



So now that the time off from our jobs has been confirmed, it was time to get ready.

A little advice from the elder here. Never, and I do mean NEVER, put your transportation in the shop for service in preparation for a out of state trip two weeks before your departure date! You had better get it done at least two MONTHS prior, just in case!
Well, I DIDN'T! And I DID pay the price.


I'll wander a little here to explain.
While I did routine maintenance on the Triumph at home, Stevens Suzuki was having fuel delivery issues related to carburetor problems that I couldn't get worked out, even after three attempts. I also just purchased a '82 Honda CB900C for John to use on the trip.
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My plan was to get it serviced and cleaned up, use it for the two week trip, and then give it to John, much like I did with the Suzuki for Steven years ago.

Now my mechanic, whom I love to death, KNEW I needed the bikes by the Saturday before the Monday we were planing to leave on. Well, I guess an emergency in MY life doesn't necessarily constitute an emergency in HIS! First, we discovered that the valves were bent in the Honda, so it's out of the picture. I secured a Harley Sportster from Eagleriders, but at a cost of $1,400.00 for two weeks. A fair price, considering it was for unlimited miles, and came with the best, upgraded insurance. Something I opted for, knowing I'd have a lesser experienced rider on a unfamiliar bike, in an unfamiliar land, with the unfamiliar "third dimension"! BUT, still, $1,400 added to the trip! Sh%t!

So with the Honda out of the way, we concentrated on the Suzuki.
Friday day, not wanting to "disturb" my beloved mechanic, and knowing he KNEW how important it was to pick that bike up at the end of the day, I didn't try to call him until dinner time. NO DICE! NO ANSWER!
So, Saturday morning I got in touch, and he was having real problems (Did I mention I tried to fix those problems three times!??) getting things jetted. But he felt confident he would have it by days end. Well, by days end, he couldn't be reached.
Now, in a panic, and NOT WILLING to call off the trip at ANY expense, I got in touch with the fine folks at Eagleriders to secure ANOTHER Sportster, at ANOTHER $1,400.00!!! Can you say "DAMN-IT MAN!"?
OH, they were accommodating, oh yeah, and we made plans to pick it up Monday if the Suzuki wasn't ready.

Monday morning
My discussion with the shop went something like this;
"Is it ready?"
"No. It's better than when you brought it in, but no, it's not ready. You CAN take it if you choose, and we'll finish up when you get back. IF you get back."
A minutes silence.
"Well I really don't want to spend another unexpected $1,400".
"It's your call. I'll do my best, and you can pick it up around 5:00".
Another minute of silence.
"Yes, I'll chance it. It went fine last year, I'm coming to get it."

So I called Eagleriders to cancel the second bike, and around 5:00 Steven and I went to the shop and picked up Susie.

We loaded up the gear on all three bikes Monday night and prepared to leave Tuesday morning.
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"DAMN THE TORPEDOES, FULL SPEED AHEAD!"


Tuesday morning (5/7/13)
We left around 10:00 AM.
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Being a day behind schedule, I used the same Google Maps I printed out last year. NO MAJOR HIGHWAYS!!! How much easier it would be to take the same, proven route. Right?
YEAH, RIGHT!!!

Now, going back to the condition of the Suzuki. Prior to the very first stop for fuel, we had to pull off on the side of the road cause John's Sportster was running out of fuel. As Steven turned off his motor, fuel immediately started overflowing out of the air filters. In the spur of the moment with fuel pouring on the ground, I hauled off and just KICKED the bank of carburetors, and VIOLA!
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Now I'm really in a predicament. With the Suzuki acting up, do we turn around, play it safe and go home? Or do we proceed on and have something go wrong further from home, out in the country?

"DAMN THE TORPEDOES, FULL SPEED AHEAD!"

(That WAS the ONLY hiccup with the bike, thank heaven)


After our share of "missed turns", we, the Three Amigos, arrived once again at the McDonald's Lodge in Hazlehurst, GA., around 7:30.
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I DID mention the few missed turns, didn't I?

To our surprise, what a difference a year can make. The Lodge was just purchased by new owners, and they haven't had the time to get it renovated yet. It was in piss-poor shape. John almost wanted to get our money back and proceed on to the next available motel, but Steven and I could sleep in a dumpster, so we all settled in.
The long day on the road, the late arrival, The LODGE, and the missed turns kinda put us in a "pissy" mood for the evening, but it was short lived, as we were out cold in less than an hour!
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Wednesday, 5/8
The Three Amigos depart from the beautiful McDonald's Lodge hell bent on getting to the cabin before the sun goes down. Now we're out of congested traffic for the rest of the trip until we hit Jacksonville on the way home.
What a difference there is once you get out of Florida! If I NEVER set foot back in Orange County again, that would be FINE WITH ME!

Once we enter the city limits of Hiawassee, GA., Steven and I both become extremely relaxed, as we NOW know EXACTLY where we are. We turn North onto 515/17/69 off of 76 in Hiawassee and stop at the Welcome to North Carolina sign for a photo op.
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John doesn't fully realize why Steven and I are so excited at this stop, but Steven and I BOTH KNOW, the cabin is now just about a half hour away, and we KNOW THE WAY!
We follow 69 North into Hayesville, and about twenty minutes later, with white knuckles and strained gluteal muscles, we pull up to the "Driveway from hell" off Sweatwater Bend!
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Let me pass something on to all the "experienced cruisers" out there. I've lived and traveled from Detroit, Los Angeles, Florida, made a couple trips to Adairsville, GA. to visit with my fathers side of our family, and traveled from Florida to Texas, and the trips through the Southeast and down to Key West, and I DON'T EVER remember ANYTHING being as challenging as the roads from north Hayesville to that cabin!
Oh, I remember a trip or two in San Bernardino Valley outside Los Angeles when my mother had some choice words to say about the roads and even the driveways of friends there, but I digress.
If you ever get the chance, SKIP THE DRAGONS TAIL, and ride north out of Hayesville on Main Street till it ends at Tusquittee Street. Go N.W. on Tusquittee St. and turn left (west) onto Qualla Road along the Hiawassee River. Merge right onto Piney Road and get out your "E" tickets!
THIS IS WHERE THE FUN BEGINS!

Follow Piney Road and merge onto Sweetwater Bend. Ride Sweetwater Bend (some paved, some County maintained, SOME NOT!), you'll be about two to three feet from the Hiawassee River.
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It turns into Lance Cove Road,
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and follow that till it dead ends back at Hwy 64, about a third of the way between Hayesville and Murphy.
On a motorcycle, you'll involuntarily relieve yourself along the way. But that's ok, as you probably won't be able to have a "movement" for the next couple of days. Ask us!


Thursday, 5/9.
We wake up late and just lounge around.
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We decide we would rather leave for the rally in Dahlonega during the daylight of the afternoon instead of trying to find our way in the dark of the early morning. Considering the consequences of being late for Fridays ride.
GOOD THING WE DID!
We went to the same Super 8 motel that we stayed at last year in Dawsonville (Yep! Awesome Bill's Dawsonville). They have the big indoor heated pool, with a big indoor spa, and a movie theater right behind it.


Friday, 5/10.
We leave the motel to make the meeting place for today's GA. Rally with no time to spare.

STUPID MOVE!

Once we got to Dahlongia, we couldn't find the meet-up location! No contact numbers (Yeah, I KNOW), and no clue where we were. But fortunately, we found them, motors running, as they were about to leave. Yay!

Today's ride is short in comparison to tomorrows ride. As best as I can remember, we leave headed east on 52/115 to Cleveland, then north, through Helen, to west 75A for a short distance, and catch Richard Russell Scenic Hwy (348) to Choestoe. From there it's west on Wolf Pen Gap Rd. (180) to Suches, and south on 60 from Suches back to Dahlongia.
Steven didn't come along today, so John and I go BACK to Dawsonville, just to check up on him, and then BACK to Dahlongia for pizza, beer, friends, and enough B.S. stories to last a year.
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THEN, BACK TO DAWSONVILLE for bed! Oh what a FINE bed it was! Can't remember sleeping THAT WELL in quite some time.


Saturday, 5/11.
The second day of the BA.com Georgia Rally, and it includes three states, RAIN, and The DRAGON!!!
We leave the motel in Dawsonville for the short ride to Dahlongia. Short IF you know the way, but we DON'T! We meet the BA.com gang with, again, five minutes (or less) to spare. Put it on my tombstone, "NO DAMN GPS"
Already stressed, we all leave on 19/129 north for a long ride across Blood Mountain, cross the Appalachian Trail, and into Blairsville, Ga.
From there we continue 19/129 into Murphy, NC., to Robbinsville, NC., and just north of Topton, NC., we veer left on 129 (Tallulah Rd.), cross the Cheoah Dam (Fugitive Dam), and stop at The Crossroads of Time, 129/28, Deal's Gap M/C Resort for food, gas, rest, and prayers ("Lord, keep us safe from the Squids") as we prepare to cross The Tail of the Dragon.
We do our thing, and then enter the Dragon (129) and enter Tennessee for the most infamous eleven miles in the motorcycle kingdom.
Twenty minutes or so later we stop at the end of the Dragon alongside Chilhowee Lake at the Calderwood Dam for a photo op, conversation, and reflection.
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We regroup and continue on 129 (Calderwood Hwy) till a left onto Hwy 72 (Big Gully Rd.) and left again onto Hwy 411, just north of Fort Loudon Historic State Park.
We cross the Little Tennessee River and again turn left onto Scenic 360, and head south now for lunch in Tellico Plains, TN.
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After lunch and laughs, we take a more direct southerly route through some of the most relaxing, scenic countryside in the southeast back to Georgia.
With only about two thirds of the trip behind us, we cruise hwy 68 south through Coker Creek, cross the Hiwassee River, and cross back into Georgia at Copperhill, TN., and follow hwy 60 through the Chattahoochee National Forest back to Dahlongia for diner, drinks, and conversation.
Steven didn't feel up to this days ride either, so once again John and I travel on to Dawsonville to check up on him before backtracking for diner, and back to the motel late in the night.
Well, that WAS the plan, but when John and I got to the motel, we decided to see a movie behind the motel, have diner in Dawsonville, and SLEEP! The day may have only been around three hundred miles, but John and I were on the road for about twelve hours, with speeds as low as ten miles an hour!
BOY DID WE SLEEP!


Sunday, 5/12.
We didn't do much this day, except today we had our first mishap with the motorcycles, at the exact same spot as last years mishap! Bekesh Lane!
We woke late, and got Shooed out of the motel after late checkout. We had breakfast in Dawsonville before heading back to the cabin in Hayesville.
The trip from Dawsonville was pretty uneventful. 9/19 north to Turners Corner Rd. Left on 19/129 to Blairsville. 2/76 through Young-Harris to the west end of Chatuge Lake, where we go north on 17/69 into North Carolina and straight on into Hayesville, and on.
Once we are on Sweetwater Bend Road we stop at 2041. The cabin. And face-to-face with, the DRIVEWAY!
Remember the reference to the "Driveway from Hell" mentioned earlier? Even in last years trip? Well THIS is where the "mishap" happened. Same as LAST YEAR!
In a car, no problem. But on a motorcycle, PROBLEM! That sucker is on an incline of dirt, rock, moss, and RUTS! It has a 100 degree + turn on an increasing incline, and is the ****** of all ******!
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Don't let the photo's fool ya, it's worse than it looks!
We ALL dread that driveway.
As Steven is in the turn, he down shifts. As John comes up behind Steven, he doesn't, he just "Opens throttle"! To avoid putting tracks up Stevens spine, he is forced to go 135 degrees to the right. Right OFF and into the damp, moist, and NOW muddy grass. John's surprised, and pissed. Stevens surprised and on the defense, and I'm laughin' SO HARD I can't do anything!
No harm, no foul.


Monday, 5/13.
Today is chill, relax, and sightsee day. We ride the loop from Sweetwater Bend - Lance Cove to Hwy 64. First right on Fires Creek Rd., which runs along the south side of the Fires Creek Wildlife Management Area off the Nantahala National Forest and follows around the north side of the Hiawassee River to it's end at Tusquittee Rd., then the second right is back on Qualla Rd. to Piney Rd. to Sweetwater bend and home.
We stop again at the Bears Cove community of Richard and Laura's which is the first gated entry off of Fires Creek Wildlife Rd., about one hundred feet off of Fires Creek Rd.
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From a Google "Birds eye" view, Bear Cove may just look like single lane asphalt lanes through the woods, but on motorcycles, with the elevation changes, it's as much fun as a Disney World ride! We would ride to the bottom of ALL the cul-de-sacs, SLOWLY turn around (which sometimes required getting OFF the bikes to maneuver them around) and then charge up the damn hill! Our feet and legs would be hangin' straight off the backs of the motorcycles, while laying down over the motorcycle tanks and full throttle acceleration up the hill, only to piss our pants while breaking over the top of the crest and heading straight down the other side! (Well, SPEED MAY have had an impact on the thrill!)
Richard, can CARS really handle that terrain!?? (and I DON'T mean just in your 600 HP S-class AMG)
We stop out front, across Fires Creek Wildlife Rd., at the Bear Creek Pavilion to rest, regroup, and continue around the loop back to the cabin.
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In the late afternoon, we all go to the Ingles Grocery for supplies and call it a day. We sit out the evening on the back patio. No lights, No noise, No traffic, just black sky!
Man! WHAT A DAY!


Tuesday, 5/14.
A slight change in plans today. Originally, there was NO Whitewater Rafting on our itinerary, But John made sure to change that!
When he was younger, he had a trip with Scouts, or the B.A.D.G.E. program, to South Carolina to do some Whitewater Rafting, and he wanted to do it again!
He contacted the Nantahala Outdoor Center, and having experienced rafting in the past, wanted something a little more on the "exciting" side. So OFF WE GO! (AGAIN WITHOUT STEVEN, he was pissed cause he thought we canceled the watercraft rentals on Lake Chatuge to do this, which wasn't the case)
Out of Hayesville, we take south 69, cross into Georgia, and at the end of 69 we head east on 2/76 through Hiawassee, Macedona, and travel Lookout Mountain Scenic Hwy into Clayton, GA. From there we take a short jaunt south on 441 till we head back east on 2/76 (Chechero RD.), which turns to Long Creek Hwy somewhere around the GA/SC boarder, which IS the Chattooga River.
After we cross the GA/SC boarder into South Carolina, it's a short trip to Chattooge Ridge Rd. We head north a few miles to the Chattooga Outpost, stored our gear in the SUV of a group of twenty-somethings, and sign-up for Section IV, which is class IV/V rapids made famous by the film Deliverance, and runs through drop-pool rapids including the famous Five Falls, where five tumultuous class IV+ rapids run in quick succession.
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Yes, Paula, WE DID HEAR BANJO'S!!!
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The run took several hours and included lunch on the river next to some falls perfect for photo op's.
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We only flipped one raft, and got ALL the bodies back. Another group caught them downriver.
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On our way back to the cabin, we stopped at the Scenic Overlook on the Chattooga River at the boarder to rest up, then off we go.
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Wednesday, 5/15.
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Today just the three of us go to ride the Dragon again, this time across and back, and we drop down to Robbinsville to run across the Cherohala Skyway to the mile high elevation point. Something special for Florida Boy's who live at 100' above sea level!
The day is uneventful, as we decided it would be wise to let the group of Superbikes, with the DUDE IN A BLUE FEATHERED CHICKEN SUIT, leave just ahead of us, instead of behind us! We met them on their way back when we were about 3/4 of our way to the turn-a-round point.
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On our way from the Dragon to the Cherohala Skyway, about half way down Tapoco Rd. just north of Santeetlah Lake, where Yellow Creek Rd. goes to the northwest, there's a small suspension walk bridge that crosses over the Cheoah River Run. A rickety, old bridge that makes us question our sanity when we cross it. We go to the other side, hike around a bit, and when we had to cross BACK over to the bikes, DAD goes first and about half way across, starts RUNNING HARD and shaking the bridge from side to side! This makes John and Steven wish DAD wasn't around! But judging from the smiles on their faces, it was worth it.
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When we get to the Cherohala Skyway and head west, John was in awe of the views, as you could see way off in the distance, and I think Steven liked it too.
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The day ended with Steven in the best mood he's been in since the start of the trip. He knew we were going to Lake Chatuge tomorrow, and that is ALWAYS the highlight of the trip to him.


Thursday, 5/16.
Water day on Lake Chatuge.
The Three Amigos turn to watercraft today, instead of our trusty Steel Horses!
We drop back down into Georgia today (Imagine THAT!) and head east on 2/76, but turn south on hwy 288, before Hiawassee. South on 288 goes to Boundary Waters Resort and Marina, where we rent another Craigcat.
They seat two, have stick steering, bimini top, dry storage boxes, and a fuel injected, 30hp, four stroke outboard.
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We also rent a Yamaha VX Cruiser Jet Ski.
We head out and spend the day in a somewhat reckless manor, WHAT ELSE would one expect a father and his sons to do!??
We cross the boarder into North Carolina and head up to the Chatuge Dam.
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Man was that Yamaha a blast! However, once the boys learned how to soak someone with the roostertail, it got annoying. At least for me, and that seemed to make their day!
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Anyway, after a couple hours of soaking poor ol' dad on the Craigcat, we headed back to the marina, go back to the cabin, and clean house, pack the bags, load the bikes, and go to bed early in preparation for the first day of the two day trip back home.


Friday, 5/17.
GOOD-BY PARADISE!!!
Man what a stay! We were ready to head home and start planning the itinerary for NEXT year.
We stopped at the bottom of the driveway to give the ol' "One finger salute" to that driveway. No sir, the Driveway from Hell would certainly NOT BE MISSED! (Probably should NOT have done that, as it MAY remember us the next time we visit). Anyway, every mile we rode, was a mile of terrain that we'd never see again for quit some time.
Sad, really.
Quickly we enter Georgia and throttle-up for a ten hour trip to our half way stop in Hazlehurst.
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We take 2/76 out of Hiawassee to Macedonia, then 17/75 south (Unicoi Turnpike) to Helen, GA., along the Chattahoochee River.
What a trip Helen is! Google this one! As we pass through, there are more BMW and Volkswagen cars in and around Helen than you'll see ANYWHERE on this continent! I assume there was some type of rally going on this weekend, but never did verify that. Poor Stevens head was going back and fourth from the right side to the left as he was checkin' out all the nice rides. Tuners, vintage, and custom vehicles EVERYWHERE!
As we head out of Helen, the cities and towns pass as quickly as miles on the odometers. Clarksville, Cornelia, Baldwin, Commerce, Athens, Madison, Milledgeville, Dublin, Alamo, Lumber City, and FINALLY, Hazelhurst! YEAH!!!
THIS TIME, we make sure there's no McDonald's Lodge in our stay. We noticed the Americas Best Value Inn is directly across the street from McDonald's Lodge, and it looked real cozy. It was, and we unloaded, found local dining, and went down for the night.


Saturday, 5/18.
The Final Leg.
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Unlike last year, when the last day had me thinking "...I can truly relax and enjoy the sights...For the first time, time is no longer a concern. We'll be home today, sometime today, and it just doesn't matter when."
Nope!
While the last day is less complicated due to knowing the way home, I STILL have that RENTAL BIKE on my mind. I need to have it back to Eagleriders by closing (5:30) to avoid paying another days rental, approx. $100.00.

Another issue that reared it's head was a THIRD person. Yep, a third person equates to a 100% increase in personal conflicts. Instead of just me having to deal with Steven, and him just having to deal with me, NOW I must deal with BOTH Steven AND John, and of course, each of them must cope with the other two in the clan.
We got along amazingly well through the last two weeks, BUT tensions were on the rise.
As anyone who knows us can testify, we are NOT three peas from the same pod! We love each other immensely, but our personalities and likes vary greatly!
I'm not sure if it was IN Jacksonville, or just before or after Jacksonville, when we stopped for lunch at Wendy's. (one of the few, VERY FEW, places Steven will eat)
When we enter Wendy's, you'd have thought it was Sunday in small town, USA! Most everyone looked like they were having a small lunch after church. Everyone but US!
With a few days growth on our faces, dirty,over-loaded bikes, dirty jackets, and saddle-sore from the half day,fast 'n' hard ride, we definitely looked out of place.
We're loud people to begin with. Add to that we were use to talking over the traffic and other noise at stops along the way, and it stands to reason that our conversation inside Wendy's was probably a little loud.
Steven got up to use the restroom, and on his way back to our table he stopped to grab some condiments. He hears John talkin' a little Smack about one of his friends, and shouts out "F@*#-YOU JOHN!!!"

EVERY EYE was on us, and it became quiet enough to hear a pin drop!

Steven quickly apologized to everyone inside, and sat down with us. Things went back to normal.
(Damn dirty bikers!)

With about a hundred and fifty miles to go, we hit it hard. The Fast 'n' Furious! Two more stops for gas and drinks, and we hit Apopka. Time is running short. I call Donna and tell her to be ready to follow me up to Eagleriders, after we get home and get the gear off the Sportster.

We hit home about 4:45.
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We yank the gear off the rental, and make one last, fast run to Eagleriders. I get there about 5:15.
Post-check gets done, NOTHING is said about the bike NOT LOOKING like the black one they rented (it was DUSTED with the red dust from the red Georgia clay), and the paperwork is finalized.

6:00 PM!
I'm home!
The boys are ALREADY gaming on the computer, and two weeks worth of dirty clothes, dirty gear, and misc. are piled high in the living room. Donna says nothing about it (for a few hours) and just listens to some of the most relevant stories that first come to my mind.


Sunday.
Sunday it seems like everything is back to normal.
Donna's doing laundry, straightening up the house, and bitchin' that "Nobody puts up anything! Crap's scattered all over the house."
The other two bikes are locked in the sheds, with no intension's of riding either one anytime soon.
The depressing realization hits. Tomorrow, Monday, life DOES go back to normal. And I'm truly in need of a major vacation! Woe is me!

"O, woe is me, T'have seen what I have seen..." Ophelia - W.S. - Hamlet



epilogue

I DON'T think we'll be doing this again soon (Not on MY dime anyway), at least not in the next year or two.
Don't feel sad for me, it's my choice (and desire) to choose adventures that surround me with my family, and do things they have dreams of doing as well.



I'll be fifty-eight this year. I'm the only one who says "Fifty-eight" though, all the others say '' 'bout sixty".

Anyway, last summer got me t' thinkin' 'bout MY Bucket List. Not a list of things I want to do before I die, but things I want to do while I'm physically able, and before my children become all consumed with their own lives (spouse, children, careers, mortgage, etc.).
Not surprisingly, my list is short. I put the last two spring trips at the front of this list, as they have been MY most rewarding events of late, and surly will provide me the catalyst necessary to strive toward more meaningful events in the near future with my wife, my children, our family, and the next generation.

This summer will be thirty years of marriage for Donna and I. I REALLY want to do somethin' special for it. Something on HER Bucket List. So all of my efforts, time, and funds will be working to make this happen.
It's now the top item on my list, and nothing will come before.

Further off down the list includes the four of us (Myself, Donna, John and Steven) on Donna and my wish list vacation to the Keys. Ride the bikes to Key West, party like the rich & famous, and ride back home.
The other one is a one month trip around the outer edges of the forty-eight states (NO super slabs). Cross the southern states, Pacific Coast Hwy from San Diego to Washington State, across the north, and A1A back to Florida. This in the company of my sons, and I'd give in to a large "Cruiser" with all the comforts, IF it will allow my wife to go. With her deteriorating spine issues, it's likely that can't happen. But we'll try.
A prime example of life's unforeseen complications that just happen with the passing of time.

As far as adding to the list, there's no hurry. The couple that are already there could take quite some time, and TIME is the race I'm running in.

On the dwindling end of ones normal life expectancy, I feel like I'm running from the fury of the storms of the Gods of Heaven and Hell.
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But as long as I can ride, and "bust the Ton" while doing so, I'm gonna GIVE IT MY ALL to stay at least one step ahead!






DAMN THE TORPEDO'S !!!FULL SPEED AHEAD !!!




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My buddy Rick and I had some vacation time to burn before it reset so we pushed it out as far as we could. Luck was on our side and we had some pretty good weather for this year’s oddball spring. What follows is a short pictorial and commentary o the trip.
For me the trip started form home with a short jaunt down I90 into downtown Seattle to the ferry terminal where I couth the 8:30 am to Bremerton. Rick met me at Starbucks at the ferry terminal.
From there we went north and crossed the Hood Canal bridge to 101 around the Olympic Peninsula down through Forks and ended the day in Seaside Wa. The roads were in good shape and we were treated to a few twisties here and there. The early routes were not expected to be anything but an easy two lane with good speeds. The day was beautiful but by the time we were crossing from Wa into Oregon the marine layer decided to roll in and though it wasn’t raining it sure did seem like it.

Waiting for the ferry


The view down from the top deck. Bikes get priority boarding so they are always up front.


Almost to Bremerton, the scenery is amazing.


Biker selfie (Im making a duck face)


This was in Forks Wa. An ancient relic and Superman was nowhere to be seen.


The wing is my Buddys bike. The other thing pulled up and the character that got out was worth the trip. Wow! The 60s are alive and well for some folks.


View from our room in Seaside. By the time we got to the hotel that mist had really broken apart and though it was still chilly it was clear.



The next morning we woke to some serious fog in some spots with sun breaks and crisp morning air throughout. The Oregon coast is just amazing! The coastal roads can get twisty and we were really hitting a rhythm until a log truck came around a corner so fast it looked like we might become pancakes. Well, the logging truck made it andso did we but the road surface turned into a washboard that quickly drained us of any rhythm that we had gained. We did the smart thing and slowed down and enjoyed the safety and scenery.
We made a late morning stop at the Tillamook Cheese factory for a second breakfast that consisted of a Grilled Cheese (it is a cheese factory after all) and some beef barley soup.

This was what we were headed into…


The Oregon Coast


A bit of Triumph and Coastline


Tillamook Cheese factory
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Second breakfast. Not sure why these are soo good but the cheese has a whipped consistency and taste so much better at the factory.



It was about then that plans changed. The weather was showing the possibility of rain rolling through and we were going to head south along the coast. We rerouted and headed inland to Dayton Wa to go see his son. A fairly uneventful ride along the Columbia River with decent road and at times big sweepers that could be taken with little to no effort. Sun was on our faces, our heels were kicked forward and we were rolling.
Eastern Wa is primarily farmland and small towns. Not much else to say. What does become evident after riding these roads is that rarely is there a straight road. The urge to crack the throttle is strong but the law has a strong presence out there. Caution and selfcontrol are a good thing. Not to say we didn’t let loose every so often. The hillsides were green and unusually spectacular. The riding was so good that we really didn’t take many breaks and when we did we seem to have forgot to take pictures. ☹

Another selfie…lol. I call this one my Oregon Selfie… I’m making a duck face you just cant see it (Oregon Ducks – College team)


The following day we did a local loop and had no idea what we were about to ride. We headed south out of Dayton Wa towards Enterprise Or. The fun started, as we turned left onto OR204. Rick didn’t stop for fuel before we made that turn and I now know better – DOH! But that road was amazing. What we didn’t know is that the top of the pass still had snow on the ground that could be measured by the foot. My heated gear stopped heating (later I figured out it was a fuse) and man it got cold. The roads were mostly nice sweeping curves that could be taken at speed and made it very easy to forget that I was low on fuel and how cold it was.
Once we started to see some gravel on the road we slowed and reality set in. I had to pee…bad. I pulled off (Rick didn’t see this and kept going) at a little place on top of the pass. There was a gas pump outside and the “open” sigh was lit so why not. If I didn’t stop there I was gonna make the snow yellow.
As I pulled up there was one car, an old beat up truck. I pull the door open and hear the jingling of a single bell. I walked into the dimly lit convenience store/café that had what seemed to be a haze in the air. It was probably the dust but man, creepy. He two old guys sitting at the table playing cards didn’t even look up. I asked where the restroom was and one old dude simply pointed a thumb over his shoulder.
Well, if I was ever going to be living in a horror movie this was it!
When I came out Rick was just pulling up so I knew I was either going to die with a friend or we were going to be ok. I again asked the old guys a question. “Hey, does that gas pump work?”. The response was “yeah, it works but there aint no gas”.
Great! “Where’s the nearest gas station?”. Response – “20 miles either way”.
Rick and I headed out after a quick candy bar break and sure enough, not more than a mile into it the bike starts to sputter and die. Pull over and switch o reserve, lose the non-working heated gear and put on some old school thick gloves and get outta there.

Snow


Sky


Heading out riding between Elgin and Enterprise was a blast. The roads were once again awesome all up till we had to pass through Lostine then it was like we were in a rally race. The dust in the air covered the bikes, helmets, and got into all the crevices. You could taste it even if the visor was down. WTF… the road was literally covered in dirt through this little town and the street cleaner was throwing more into the air than it was picking up.
We stopped at the Heavenly’s for some food and I had an awesome Elk burger.
After lunch we headed north on 3 and was an ok and average ride for about 38 miles then it turned into an absolute wet dream for anyone on two wheels that likes to lean. Holly ****** I think this is the west coast version of the Dragon. Maybe not as technical but certainly more fun that Mullholand was a coupe years ago. The next 20 miles was pure twisty heaven. Then some straights for about 18 miles then one last dose of 4 miles of heaven as we dropped into Aostin Wa. From there back to Dayton was not even in the memory because all I could think of was those roads we were just on.
Twisty


The next day was the ride home and though not as eventful as the previous day it was still fun. I mean how many times do you (maybe some of you do) get to see wild turkeys crossing the road.

Turkeys