The moto-hubby had so much fun, he felt like writing the report. I just added a few thoughts. I got some weird acting formatting and I dare not mess with the html to convert it!
http://thewolftamer71.blogspot.com/2...tain-ride.html ]]>
So after saying my old girl was going to make the trip, we had to run and fill up her belly and put a new turn signal bulb in. I guess I should say that this trip we were doing was a little over 100miles out to the town of Bucyrus, Ohio. Now we are going not for a really good restaurant but to a WalMart. Yep you read right:lol:. Steve and his dad have been craving these sausages from Khan's called Big Red Smokies and this WalMart is the closest place to us that sells them.
We took back roads on the way out there which was great because I was able to practice riding curves. It was so beautiful today, Hot but beautiful! So we got 50 miles into this ride and I look down and my speedometer is bouncing like I was on a trampoline. Great :wtf: I bark at Steve on the intercom and tell him that I have no idea how fast I am going. He kind of laughed at me :chin:. We stopped for a quick bite to eat and hit the road again. By the time I hit 70 miles my rear was screaming! We took a break and I was very thankful. Short break and away we went. Steve's dad and stepmom went along as well in their convertible rabbit.
We finally made it to the WalMart and I loved watching everyones faces when we told them we were from Canton that is over 100miles away to buy Big Red Smokies. That alone made it worth the sore butt. A few minutes at Wally World and back home we headed. This time we had to make up some time and took the highway home. I needed to get back home and get the kiddo ready for bed because he first full week of kindergarten starts tomorrow!!! I was way outside of my comfort zone as I have never rode to highways for any length of time. I got lots of practice with getting on and off the freeway, as well as getting into some bigger towns and dealing with more traffic than we have around our home. I also learned that big rigs give off a heck of a side draft :scared:. Weeee! I also learned that I can hook my heals over the rear pegs and stretch my legs and shift my weight off the tail bone for a few. I was able to ride the whole way home with no stops because of my rear :yahoo:.
So I got in my very first 200 miler today because the hubby was having a craving!!! The old girl ran great and never missed at beat for being a 28 year old bike. ]]>
First, let me present Princess Buttercup -- notice her last farkle, a totally bitchin pirate sticker "Argh". Makes her much faster
Here's my street I live off of in Kailua.
Here's a couple that I got my stupid gloves in the way.......This is tricky!
OK, I think I got this, doing a bit better -- no gloves!
Even got a shot of me... after getting a few of my chin, neck, riding vest -- I think you get the picture.
Love my new helmet -- Arai XD3, got it at 300 dollars off online.
Now here's the money shots....
Stupid glove again...
So, made it home and was greeting from above --
So rode 40 miles and took about 40 pictures, of which probably 15 are any good. Not too bad for a first attempt. And I didn't lose the camera! It would definitely be better to have the camera in a tank bag -- I had it in my front pocket on my hi-viz vest. Any tips on techniques are appreciated!
Cyclone67 ]]>
One of my friends, Bob, has been bugging me to come to Oregon. This weekend I decided to do it, and was planning on camping in a state park near my hometown. When my buddy heard that I would be in town, he invited me to another friend's farm for a party Saturday night, and that friend, Susie, invited me to camp on their property. So...
I left Spokane early Saturday morning. Silverton is 400 miles from Spokane, and Susie lives about 15 miles past Silverton, so I knew it would be a long ride, and I didn't want to miss any of the party.
I only stopped once for a picture on the way down partly because I was in a hurry, and partly because the Columbia Gorge was insanely windy and I was concentrating more on staying in my lane than on stopping for pics!
I arrived in Silverton ahead of schedule. I was meeting Bob around 3:00 so I had time to kill. I went to the town park looking for a quiet place to rest after my ride, but this weekend was the 10th annual Silverton Art Fair. I found a place to park and spent the next hour or so wandering around the fair, looking at art, and eating the nectarine and crackers I had brought for lunch.
When Bob showed up and got out of his truck it was as if we'd never been apart. I love friendships that stand the test of time! I followed Bob the rest of the way to Susie's house, and good thing! I'd have never found it. She lives in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a 400 acre farm. Bob and Todd, another high school friend, and a bunch of other folks brought out the guns for some target practice.
Strange thing. See the hill with all the trees at the top of the picture? I had never been to Susie's house before but that hill looked familiar. I asked what was up there and they told me it was an old cemetery. I'm skipping ahead here a little, but I rode up there this morning and realized that it looked familiar because it is where my father is buried. I hadn't been back to that cemetery since he died when I was 15 years old. No pictures, it wouldn't have felt right.
Anyway, dinner was potluck and we all ate outside and watched the sunset.
After the sun went down everyone pulled in close to the fire and reminisced about when we were young and would have to have hidden all the beer, wine, and spiked punch we were drinking! :lol:
I pitched my tent by the light of Bob's truck and a propane lantern and went to bed around 10:30. Many of you know I am usually up by 5:00 a.m. This morning I slept in, but managed to catch the sunrise.
What a beautiful place to park my bike overnight.
Pretty nice view from my tent, also.
This morning the silence was only magnified by the occasional distant cawing of crows, and the breeze ruffling the stalks of hay.
It was hard to leave, but I'll go back. And this time I won't wait 25+ years. ]]>
Our fellow Salida TWF
We had a great ride, could not have asked for any better weather. We got checked into our hotels and began our quest for dinner. Boathouse area pictures:
Me, Kitty (joined us for the first time), Karen, Mary Lou, Jan (joined us for the first time), and Carol
Karen, joining us for the first time, sitting on her Harley.
I know we are all aware by now that I am not a decent photographer. The patio of the restaurant, which sits on the bank of the Arkansas River.
We were entertained most of the evening by a guy in a kayak going back and forth over the tiny, little, tiny rapid, flipping over. Very entertaining.
Oh, and looky here. We all (except Karen as she went on to Denver) made it to the top of Independence Pass, and what fun. We left early, hoping to get ahead of the traffic. The timing was perfect. There were tons of cars at Twin Lakes that were owned by bicyclists as they were getting ready for a race. As we slowly went past them, I’m sure we were all thinking that this could be a miserable ride if we had to deal with hundreds of bicyclists. Luckily they had not gotten the race started yet so we just had a few on the highway.
Independence Pass
Before we headed out for our ride Sat. morning, we had a decision to make. Where do we want our ride to take us after Independence Pass? I plotted out a nice, long, hard day that I wouldn’t mind taking, but we seriously need to look at a shorter day cause not everyone likes the hard days like me. Everyone opted for the long route. Are you sure?? We can split up, I’ll be more than happy to go the shorter route. Nope, the longer route. I visited a friend in Salida that suggested we hit 114 if we go into Gunnison. Jan and Mary Lou had hit that rode on their way back from Nationals. Our route was Independence Pass, Paonia, Gunnison, 114 back to Salida, ~ 380 miles of some rough terrain which included some great, wonderful sweepers. While most were quite exhausted, they all felt a sense of accomplishment. I think the confidence level significantly increased.
We had a very fast paced ride home and I rode into the garage at 1:00 on Sunday. Nother great ride. ]]>
We had been working 7 days a week since June 6th. I'll do the math for you. That is 68 days straight.:(:
Needless to say we needed a few mental health days, something that only twisting the throttle :riding: can give us.:D:
We plan to set out in the morning to relieve the tension:ecstasy:.
At the crack of dawn The no plan plan was to head north.
My shoulders were so tight I could barely turn my head, I had to twist my entire body to check when passing.
But the soothing sound of The Byrds would helped me unwind :riding:
Go ahead sing along I did, :D:
Let me introduce you to the Adirondacks :wootrock:They do not form a connected range like the Rockies or the Appalachians but instead an eroded circle dome consisting of many peaks.
We stopped for coffee and a few more Ibprofin in Indian Lake.
My shoulders were starting to release some of the stress. I was settling into the moment of a well maintain road, lots of passing zones. beautiful creeks. lakes, ponds and bogs on both sides of the road surounds by the mountains and of course we chose this road was for it's wonderful long sweepers .
We were in our zone the :cloud9: :riding::zen: :wootrock:
We were in our zone the :cloud9: :riding::zen: :wootrock:
In this photo you can see how they needed to be blasted to make way for Route #30
A small pond near Little Tupper
A close up of that little Island
We climbed down the bank (Which was not easy for me) sat on a rock and enjoyed our lunch of Ham salad, cottage cheese and mixed fresh melon chunks. Topped off with an icey cold Seltzer.
Life is good :D:
I did not put a toe in but did manage to wash my hands in the lake without falling in.:lol:
Life is good :D:
I did not put a toe in but did manage to wash my hands in the lake without falling in.:lol:
Monkey has decided to travel up front from now on. He likes the wind in his face. :lol:
Lots of little Rock Islands with trees that could be a hundred years old or older.
On our way home while passing a car towing a rather large trailer instead of maintaining his speed he increased it I mean he floored it JT had made it back in as I was coming up on the guys window I could see him smile. I had the reserve power to make it passed him and back into my lane which I did, then at the worst possible moment I ran out of gas.:slaphead::redface1:.
I quickly hit my reserve as I served back out into the passing lane to prevent this idiot from me from rear ending me. Within seconds my reserve had the go go juice running back through the system and that guy and his rig was just a dot in my mirror.:w2:
I quickly hit my reserve as I served back out into the passing lane to prevent this idiot from me from rear ending me. Within seconds my reserve had the go go juice running back through the system and that guy and his rig was just a dot in my mirror.:w2:
JT thought I was messing with the guy when I slowed down in front of him until I could hit the com and fill him in.
Now I was going to need gas :chin: I wondered exactly how far the KLR could go on reserve. I still don't know for sure since I made it to a gas station NOT topping off the tank it took 6.3 gallons I think the MotoGods were watching over me.:D:
I had to get a close up of this :lol:
We had a wonderful :perfect10: weekend. My shoulders are good and the stress is gone.
I even remembered to send you all a post card.:D:
:chin: I wonder can I claim this trip as a medical expense on my taxes.:D:
:cheers:
]]>The Car after we passed it
and at the Red light next to us. If you look you can see the driver hamming it up and making a face at Tim as he took the picture
Our Casino Sign for the Tag tread
and our observatory sign
Was worried that I might have killed the tread with this one but it seems that folks are already planing on heading out to get one. ]]>
Lunch!
]]>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rh8iQm_pwVc
I started out on Thursday afternoon with a little bit of trepidation. This would be my first multi-day ride since the accident with only a few day rides prior to that. I was looking forward to seeing some wonderful friends already known, but there were a lot of new ladies that would be coming along. Would we all get along? Would I be some sort of 3-wheeled freak amongst all those 2-wheeled vehicles? Would I be able to keep up? How would I hold up? Would I still be able to feel "it" and, if I didn't, what would I do? How would I cope with the loss of not being able to find "it?" Those were just a few questions that wandered through my mind as I headed for Cambria with two of my most trusted friends and riding companions - CC and Audrey.
A noon departure was decided upon and we were pretty close to leaving on time... sort of... well, mostly. Had to catch up, blow off the stink, and of course... pee. So it was more like 12:45 when we hit the tarmac but still early enough to avoid the Sillycon Valley rush hour. Earbuds in, tunes playing, wheels a'turnin, thoughts a'churnin. A gas/rest stop was needed and we ended up having a high class lunch on a brick wall around a planter bench at the 76 station somewhere south of Salinas with the machinations of large trucks and other vehicles roaring by... oh yeah... can I show my friends a good time or what?
Further down 101, another pit stop to de-gear because of heat, a bit of a back up on 101 due to a mobile home having to be pulled over, and then we came to 46 west toward Cambria where the temp dropped waaaaayyyyy down (gratefully on our end). And as we traversed 46, I had one of THOSE moments... one of those "it" moments that you try to describe to people and they just look at you with glazed eyes and wonder if you need professional help - unless it's a rider you are describing it to. The road curved gently and the sun hit the pavement... it was that type of pavement that has glittery bits in it (yes, that's my technical definition and I'm sticking to it!). The road in front of me sparkled as if inset with diamonds and the dazzling display seemed to synchronize with the song that was playing at the moment (The Wanderer by Marc Broussard)... and I looked out at the rolling golden hills, the fog rolling over the ocean, the blue of the sky, and my friends riding with me... and that's when it all hit me... I felt "it"... that moment when all the elements come together in sublime simplicity and send your soul soaring. And my eyes leaked a little bit with gratitude to know that "it" could still be felt.
Arriving at the Cambria Palms Motel, we saw many bikes not only from our group but also a Triumph group that was in the area for a ride as well. BTW, if you are planning a ride down that way, this motel is really wonderful for a variety of reasons. The gent running it is named Troy and he was so very pleasant and willing to assist us in our endeavor for a great evening's stay. After parking the bikes, we found some of our compadres and divvied out the hugs, made introductions to the GR virgins (so to speak), and started up with the double entendres and off-color humor that would be the mainstay of our socialization for the weekend.
Freshened up, we mosied on down to Las Cabritos, a great little Mexican restaurant, where we completely overwhelmed the staff but they handled it with frazzled aplomb... and a little help from Roxanne... not to mention the semi-self-appointed "Mayor of Cambria" (ok, it was really Sarah's doing) who visited us frequently, all the time high-fiveing anyone in her general vicinity for the repeal of Prop 8 to which we raised our glasses in a toast (with this group, it doesn't take much to encourage them to imbibe!). We toddled back to the hotel for an evening of rest to ready the physical vessels for the next day's adventure.
Bright and early, we gathered with our organizer extraordinaire, Donna, to get a briefing, break up into groups, and meet our lead/sweep for the day. And then we were off!! I had decided to skip Santa Rosa Creek as I knew it was bumpy/goaty and I didn't want to shoot my wad (so to speak) in the first hour of the day given I had three more days before I went home. We met the group in Atascadero, gassed, gabbed, and then it was off along 41 to 229 (aka Rossi's driveway... but you knew that already, right? You didn't?!? You better find out for yourself real soon!!) to 58 and into the bustling mecca of Taft for a high-falutin', root-toot-tootin' lunch at Le Golden Arches (yes, Mickey D's)... it may not be high class but it was air conditioned and we went for it!
Moving right along, we ventured forth along the famed 33 toward Ojai... I had seen pictures but being there in person, experiencing the rolling turns and billowing vistas... well, it was even better than the pictures! If there was a t-shirt, I would have gotten one! We arrived at the Glen Tavern Inn at Santa Paula and tromped into the front lobby, big 'ole boots and full riding gear, sweaty from the day's heat along 58 to find... a whole room of patrons at dining tables staring back at us in befuddled bewilderment at this motley crew in front of them... everyone froze for a brief moment... I smiled and nodded greetings, the diners went back to their meals and conversations, and we continued on to the reception desk to check in.
I forgot how amazingly awesomely wickedly good a shower feels after a good, solid day of riding... like you lose 10 lbs of grime down the drain and emerge amazingly buoyant, fresh, and chirpy. The rest of the groups arrived and we all descended upon the dining area, again flummoxing them a bit with this enormous batch of estrogen in one sitting. The chatter dinned over the room, raucous laughter, tales of the day, brainstorming the next day's routes, and of course cleavage photos. A few of us ventured to the Don/na's room which featured a double-head shower and jacuzzi tub that we were all very envious of... you see, most of the showers in the other rooms seemed to have been originally built for a race much shorter than the norm and trying to rinse shampoo out of one's hair required doing the limbo to get your head under the faucet properly.
Again, a good night's rest and then the morning gathering to assess our attack on the area roads. We were quite the spectacle leaving Santa Paula headed for Ojai. To avoid 101, we traversed along 150 then 129 (which I loved but others didn't seem to have the good traffic timing we did) to 154 and that's when it happened... I inadvertently got separated from my group and ended up at 101 and 154 realizing that somehow... I was alone. Cell phone calls were made to no avail. I realized I had missed the turn for Foxen Canyon so backtracked in the hopes of meeting my compadres. No dice. With a shrug of the shoulders and armed with my trusty AAA map, I tallied ho. And oh what a ho it was!
Foxen Canyon winds its way along vineyards and wineries (watch out for the wine tasters and pedestrian traffic that was walking along a road that they shouldn't have been on!) and lined with roses whose sweet scent wafted over me in waves as I rode past. I passed a large hay field that had been mowed down and smack dab in the middle was a huge block of hay bales all stacked up and ready to go. All of a sudden, I got a bug up my butt (so to speak) and thought, HEY! Wouldn't that be a cool shot of the Spyder in the middle of that hay field? Then the other voice on my shoulder said, are you crazy?!? What if you get stuck out there? The first voice told the second voice to stfu and out we went into the hay field.
I gingerly maneuvered the beast, zigging and zagging to avoid the many deep gopher holes... for I knew if the rest of the group came upon me wedged out in the middle of that field, I would never live it down and forever be known as HAY TYLER or some such riotous nomenclature. Trudging through the dirt and weeds, I shot a few pics and then, praying to the moto gods to get me out of there in one piece, made my way back to the safety of tarmac and continued on down the road.
A quick right turn onto Tepesquet (pronounced Teh-peh-sqway by the locals), a road I'd heard and seen a great deal about and had always wanted to experience. And here it was... just me, my wheels, blue skies, and freshly paved ribbons of roadway just waiting... beckoning me forth... so hither and yonder I went. Oh my... what an experience... without the confines of riding with a group, I stopped when and where I wanted to... took photos... turned around... patted a hesistant horse on the snout... put the bike in neutral and coasted all the way down the back side... shooed off a gaggle of Keystone Cops turkeys that ran every which way but loose... waved at the few bicyclists that braved the uphill climb... and burst out upon a row of eucalyptus trees with an aroma that permeated my being and made me want a massage.
Scooted along 166 and pretty much had the whole thing to myself... again, newly paved and a zippy paced (well, for me) roadway.
I ventured out to 101 and pulled off for a "quick" gas stop which turned into about an hour long chit chat with a family with three kids (one of them an 8-year old girl with cerebral palsy who LOVES motorcycles and was practically jumping out of her father's arms at the Spyder which, of course, made me offer for her to sit on it - who couldn't - and she gleefully grabbed the handlebars, gyrating about, making vroom-vroom noises - holy hell, I didn't leave the bike in neutral, did I? - and smiling until her face would split. Then a gent on an ST1300 named Raffe (sp?) pulled up and of course grilled me on the Spyder... what was it like to ride? How did I like it? I think I'm gonna print up cards or something...
Onward to Paso Robles to meet up with da goils for the last night's festivities. A group of us ordered pizza and then descended upon hot tub overrunning it with a bevy of boisterous beauties, filling the night air with laughter and stories and jokes (this group could wo-man a stand up comedy club all on its own!) and the comraderie of once-strangers but now friends. Hesitantly, everyone headed off to bed, reluctant to let go of the moment.
The next morning, folks scattered to the winds headed for the four corners of the compass... weary but sated (for now) and focused on the journey home. Before heading out, I had the pleasure of meeting up with Don/dcarver and the lovely Mistress Carver for breakfast at Wilson's in Paso Robles. Seems Don is quite the ladies' man there and very well known... even though Don was running late due to his trying to catch up on his beauty sleep, the waitress brought his drink before he even got there! And she had his order down before he could even get the words out!
CC, Audrey, Dona and I decided on a leisurely romp up 101 to afford us an early home arrival. We stopped a few times for gas or bio breaks, taking our time and spending those precious moments together. As the Beemer Brigade peeled off on 85, I looked at each spirit that piloted those bikes and my heart swelled in the preciousness of those friends and how very grateful I was/am to have them, and many others in my life. It was a good way to end the ride.
Many people asked me on this trip about riding the Spyder and, coming from a dance background, I replied that it's akin to dancing... perhaps my accident last year will prevent me from dancing the way I used to but it doesn't mean I can't find a new way to dance... and that's what the Spyder affords me... a new way to dance and yet still enjoy the world around me and the wonderful people in it. I am grateful to whatever gods/spirits are out there that gave me this additional lease on life... every day is precious and I wish each of you the gifts and your own dance that is there for the taking today and every day!
And many, many thanks to Donna for supreme organization of all the elements, the leads and sweeps who took the responsibility of guiding us along the way, Roxanne for showing us that she has earned the nickname "McGyver", and to all those who came together, with free spirits, open hearts, and bellowing laughter... I salute you all!
FIN
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Our first photo stop was Teddy Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota. A mixture of the Badlands of South Dakota and the Grand Canyon.
View from hot tub at St. Mary KOA where we satyed. That's my son in the pool.
We went up into Canada. My chauffer for the trip.
Waterton, Alberta, Prince of Whales Hotel..very old hotel built like a chalet. Never got a picture of the hotel, the views were breathtaking.
Next was Glacier National Park
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