A short stetch of Hwy 281 - R100GS and Thruxton

Little helmet cam action. Wasn't working quite right - cut off a lot of the Thruxton action.

Turn the volume down before you start the vid.

Harvest Classic Rally

M. Haggard made a little town called Luckenbach Texas famous with a song. It was already famous FOR song. Way back in the 60's a guy named Hondo incorporated a little gathering of buildings near Fredericksburg Tx and set up a bar, a general store and a music/dance hall for aspiring musicians. Now there's another stage for pickin' and singin', washer pits for tossing washers, and ... well, that's still about all there is. But on weekends it fills up with folks making and appreciating music. And beer (this is German country). This weekend was a classic motorcycle show and rally benefiting child cancer fighters. Todd, Kristin, James, Bruce and I rode down to partake at rally central, camping right on the creek that runs through Luckenbach. Todd is new to biking, and was on a Triumph Thruxton with fresh outta the box soft bags on the back, and Kristin, the only lady in the group was even newer to biking and rode pillion over 9 and a half hours 530miles! Way to go! James and I were on BMW GS bikes with several miles on them already, and Bruce was on his brand spanking (less than 50 miles) Buell something or other 1150. What a gaggle.
We met at James's home in Ft Worth, trekked out I-20 to 377 through Grandbury, down 51 to 67, across to 220 into Hico, 281 to Hamilton where we zigged and zagged to 16 south, devouring flesh at Coopers BBQ in Llano, and then 965 past Enchanted Rock to Lower Crabapple Rd and into Fredericksburg and on 290 into Luckenbach. A longish day but no mishaps and the newbies, both human and machine, did very well. We were all impressed with Kristin's attitude and Todd's ability to handle a bike under load. Which is not to say that Kristin was a load. Moving on....
Friday night was hooting and hollering and campfires and cold. Yup, it got into the 40's. But no precipitation. We camped, along the creek across from the Todo Moto group of bikers from Houston Tx. They were there to have a good time (for them), and did. We listened and watched and wondered.
Saturday morning was crisp and clear and waaaay early, as the roosters started their fight with the sun at 0330, much to Kristin's delight. If she had her way they'd be under plastic wrap in the meats section of WalMart. We bundled up and headed into Fredericksburg for a terrific pancake and sausage and bacon (rhymes with vacation so there's no dietary guilt) breakfast and a short ride along Boos Rd where Todd (and Kristin) learned a little more about the Thruxton and it's suspension travel. They then pealed off for a 5$ shower at the KOA near Luckenbach and a trip thru WalMart (no chickens) for supplies.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch (always wanted to say that) folks were arriving in droves. On motorcycles actually. From San Antonio and Austin and Houston and lots of places. Bikes ranged from still shiney Ducati's fresh from the factory to 1903 motorized bicycles and all types in between. Even if you weren't a rider you remember seeing some of these. You meet the nice-est people on a Honda! We had judgings and raffles and music all day long and people for watching on a continual parade. A troupe of Trials riders put on a continual display that was jaw dropping. To see a bike leap from the ground onto the top of a semi-trailer was near unbelievable.
Later on was BBQ and more music and then a big screen movie on the grass behind the music hall. After that things grew surprisingly quiet and we all got a great nights sleep.
Sunday fairly early we took off and made our way expeditiously back to the MetroMess via 290 to Johnson City, 281 north to Hico, 220 to Chalk Mtn and 67 to Alvorado and I-35 home. Good thing, too, as Todd's Iphone was almost outta juice and it came down BUCKETS last night with hail and lightning.
Great people, great ride, great weekend.

Spacer

Yeah, yeah, I'll finish the UT trek real soon (just like Machu Pichu), meanwhile this will hold a spot.

They call this a pass? 9-18-09

Well Mike and Herb had picked out a terrific campsite - in a stand of pine next to a lake protected on one side by some photogenic red cliffs. After setting up camp we spent the evening exchanging friendly jabs, commenting on equipment and food selections, and then retired early to the sounds of light rain on the tents, and the smell of pine trees and campfire smoke from across the lake. Truly a wonderful evening.

As I recall it didn't get much colder overnight, just about freezing, and the Aleve/Motrin did help cut the aches from the hike and altitude.

It was brisk when we woke and scattered about for a little 'privacy' before coffee and, in my case, cereal. One recurring topic was trail food. Every hiker has a favorite dish, or style, or brand. Most of us try to get the least expensive we can tolerate and carry. One thing I had begun to watch, after a longer hike several years ago, was calories per serving. Top Ramen Noodles are a favorite - easy, hot, flavorful - but the calories per serving is something on the order of a tablespoon of peanut butter. Mountain House makes de-hydrated and freeze-dried meals in a bag that can run about 5 times that, or 500 calories per serving. A serious hike can burn 3-4 thousand cal a day, and you'd better be putting most of that back if you want to stay out and stay healthy.

But I digress.

After eating and cleaning up (all foods and fragrances hung in a bear bag) we geared up and headed uphill. Today we would walk about 12 miles round trip with about 4,000 elevation gain then loss. The trail was heading south into the boxed end of the canyon we were in, and we could watch the sides close in and the end wall approach - we could not, though, quite see Kings Peak, which was one ridge line beyond the end wall.

Mike had been this way before and was our guide. we really just sort of meandered along the trails that went in the direction of the end wall, and Mike herded us along and kept us from quitting. We passed one campsite set by a group on horseback with a nice campfire and coffee, and then dropped off the rocky trail into some vegetation along the river. It became more challenging to stay dry and mud free as we went along, but we had our eye on Gunsight Pass as our 'shortcut' approach to the peak.

When we reached to bottom and looked up the 750' scree we weren't so sure, but this was called a pass, after all, so we hitched up our pants and went at it. Funny how high up you feel when you are on tenuous footing. Though we could hear rocks let go and bounce down the steep face to the canyon floor we were fortunate none chose our line and we had no injuries or close calls.

At the top we took a nice breather in what appeared to be a very primitive campsite or shelter from the winds and snacked and re hydrated and congratulated ourselves.

Then we took a good look at what was left.

We had to cross another trail perpendicular to the line we were on, and scramble up more broken rock to the summit, still another mile and a half away. Yikes.

Mike and Herb showed their good form and fitness, while I proved I could protect our rear from enemy attack. The altitude was demanding its share of effort, along with the poor footing and steep terrain, but we finally made it and had ten minutes of solitude before a young woman (who came to the foot of the summit hill by horse) joined us. Followed by 3 young men (of course) who were practically bounding up the hill and had plans for further wanderings that same day.

A little more snack, hero shots, and it was time to head back.

Like a cat in a tree would avow, coming down is harder then getting up. I have a fear of cracking an ankle, despite using two walking poles, so that was my excuse coming down the jagged rocks for the next three hours. Our track took us to the summit base, then across Gunsight Pass to Anderson Pass, where we dropped back down into the canyon floor for the walk home. H&M were in fine shape, but I was into survival shuffle by that time, requiring more frequent rest stops and a full recline before continuing. But continue we did, and arrived safely back at camp for a full dissection of the days walk.

Just a walk in the Park 9-17-00

Up and away at an early, but still reasonable hour.
It's about 3 hours driving from northern SLC into Wyoming, and back down into Utah. The roads just don't go from 'here' to 'there' the way they do here in Texas. Of course down here, 'there' is much further away!
Anyhow, we loaded up and headed out on the trail, leaving our names and numbers at the start, 'just in case'. We were also asked to keep a look out for Scooby, a missing dog. (no happy ending).

The trail started out in 60 degree temps, but fell consistantly into the 30's by the time we stopped some 4 hours, 7 miles and 2000' vertical feet later. It was nice to settle into a rythmn of hiking, and Herb/Mike are very experienced, so dragging me along was a piece of cake. They even stopped once an hour to let me catch my breath. I did notice Herb taking Motrin now and again. Says it lubricates the tendons and such. I liked it 'cause it stopped my headache and muscle aches.

We hiked up along the Henry's Fork River to Dollar Lake, where we pitched camp - just in time for precipitation! Not rain, check the temps, snow/sleet! How neat was that! A little later it did change over to a brief rain shower, but nothing got wet and we enjoyed the experience of snow in August!

Off we go! 9-16-09

Despite having to get up twice during the night (yea, I know, I do that anyway) to put myself and a friend on the priority lists, I was bright eyed and bushy tailed for the flight from DFW to SLC (Dallas -Ft Worth to SaltLake City). I arrived at 1120, as planned, and then started hunting for my friend, Herb Nyberg, who was due in from somewhere on the East Coast at 1129. USAirways had a plane expected then, but ETA had slid to 1230, so I sat at the gate and waited. About 20 minutes later I was paged to the baggage claim area. Seems Herb was on a different plane and had told the baggage claim rep that he was missing something - ME!

Met Mike, Herb's son, and we loaded up to head back to his place on the north side of SLC, conveniently passing REI along the way. What good fortune! They were having a garage sale and I decided I really did need a fleece jacket to stave off the 30 degree temps they were telling me to expect. Found one in the return bin for 9$ and half off made it 4.50$ Can't beat that! So Herb went ahead and bought a new backpack as well! All we really came in for was a fuel canister for my stove.

Spent the night catching up, meeting Mike's girlfriend, Jackie, and then touring Hill AFB and the F-16 Fighter Squadron lucky enough to have her as Intel Officer. Even had time to wax our boots.

All's Quiet on the Western Front

Had to read that in High School, then watch 'John-Boy's portrayal. What the hell IS that thing on his cheek, anyway?

Well, the summer was quieter than I'd hoped, but there's life in the old boy just yet. Herb Nyberg, a classmate from USNA, posted a note on Facebook that he and his son Mike would be climbing Kings Peak UT this summer. I took it as a challenge, and invited myself along. My training regimen was arduous at first (10-20 minutes of 10 min/mile jog followed by 30 min of stairs with 15lbs on my back) but soon petered out to just thinking about it.
Uh-Oh.
Well, tomorrow's the day. I hit DFW at 0830, land in SLC at 1120, and spend the afternoon marveling at the mountains and wondering what I've gotten myself into THIS time.
Traveling kit is similar to the Walk 1/2 Way Across England, 'cept a little more food and better boots. I'm not SO worried about the 36 miles or so in and out, it's the 5000ft 'prominence' we'll be climbing. Many places where the summit is 14000 you may actually only climb 3000 or less from the trail head. This, however, is a 5000' gain from the door of the car up. Carrying food, water and shelter for 3 days.
Oh.
We'll try the SPOT locator again at http://share.findmespot.com/shared/faces/viewspots.jsp?glId=07ON0lnuMo7xj7fRmFhQ4UFWqyVqSVCGU
but be aware, it only holds the track for 7 days. After that just assume we got to the top, will ya?

Up, Up, and AWAAAAAAY

28FEB09
Up early for the flight home - always a bit of an anxiety exercise. 20$ cab ride back (no airport fee), and I'm listed at 0730 for the 1015 flight direct to DFW. Only possible catch is that after I pay my 26$ departure tax and go to security they may not want to pass on my helmet. This is not USA TSA so the fact that I've already flown with it twice holds no water. Fortunately they are more interested in my 3" blunt tipped medical sissors, and I'm free to move about the airport.
No problems with the flight, and, 4 hours later, I'm back in the VW buss heading down 360 for home.
I paid for the bike on credit card (for the deposite) so that was 110$ for two days, and the rest was cash, much less than 250$ So let's call it 350$ for 3 nights, 2 full days plus an evening, food, etc.
I think I rode about 300 miles and saw volcanoes, lakes, rainbows, jungle, dirt roads, the PanAmerican Hiway, black sand beaches, coffee plantations, a couple BIG lizards, a monkey or two, and had a controled adventure.
What next?

2nd day on the Bike - La Fortuna to San Jose

27FEB09
Although it comes with the room, and Ernesti was disappointed, I opted not to breakfast at the hostel but rather to get on the road. I don't know if there are more guests during high season, but I cannot imagine how the restaurant, much less the hostel, stays open. The only guests I saw were two other couples.
Passing through town I found one of the 'other' hostels (there were several, ranging from one side of 'you gotta be kidding me' to the other) about 500m from town towards the volcano with a pool, hammocks and the underlying current of excitment I'd wanted. For 14$ a night dorm. Next time.

Knowing the southerly route was impassible, I took the paved road around the north side of Laguna Arenal past, ah, Arenal, Tilaran, and, after some horrible dirt roads that would have made trail or trial riding seem comfortable, finally Mesa Verde, where I stopped for coffee. This is a bad habit of mine not to stop as frequently as I could/should to savor my surroundings and maybe meet some of the people. In MV (Santa Elena, actually) I took coffee with a German couple. The opener was a (hopeully) humorous remark on my part that he was sitting in a quaint cafe in an out of the way village in Costa Rica with a beautiful (truely) woman and had his eyes glued to his IPHONE!!! They did laugh, and he confessed he was trying to spool back up so that returning to 'civilization' tomorrow wouldn't be such a shock. I shared my philosophy that if all the animals and/or people aren't moving in the same direction in a big hurry then the news can wait. He'd cracked an ankle kiteboarding on their first day in (two weeks ago) and been hobbled since. Made me think about medical insurance for these trips again.
After coffee I continued on the marginally better dirt road towards the coast. At one point I was treated to the most vivid and vibrant rainbow I've ever seen - and it was BELOW me! I felt I could walk out onto it and slide down to the valley floor. But what would I do with the bike?
On the Pan American Hiway for a short while I reflected on Danny Liska's trip through here in the 60's, and how these trees and macadam were probably the same ones he rode by and on. Probably hit the same pothole.
At Puntarenas I dropped down along the beach, taking just a moment to visit the black sand playa and marvel at an old 4 masted sailing ship. There was also a little toddler with her mom and aunt taking sun. Again I made mileage with the hard candy. This costal road is under construction to take pressure off the PanAmerican and we were cued up at several points. Bikes to the front, anyway you can! Around cars, over the excavated roadbed, etc. Wound up in a group of BMW R1200GS riders from NY and CA heading south. One had been robbed at gunpoint in Managua, confirming that city's history to me. At Orotina I cut south on a two lane towards Santiago and, hell, I don't know. I wound up having lunch at a thatched hut roadside sopa where I got rice, chicken, a drink and some salad for 4 bucks.
I also crossed a one lane, wood planked suspension bridge! Video on YouTube.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HRyp8fQK14

Back into San Jose I was on a major artery approaching from the southwest, and as traffic thickened up I got more interested in the manner by which the other scooters dealt with it. Like the construction zone there if there were no barriers then everywhere was fair game just don't hit anyone and don't get hit. Simple rules. Around, between, gutter, dirt - just filter to the front until you couldn't go any further and stop. When the traffic moves again go for another entrance into another channel between the cars/trucks and keep moving. Seemed to work well, no animosity, and at the low speeds everyone was moving, a low chance of accidents.

Thomas was at the shop, I turned in the bike (for an additional 20$ off because of the brake), walked back to Bekuo and, you guessed it, went to sleep like the old man I am.

26Feb09
Jumpy legs all night - was it the walk? Took 2 Aleve to help with that and finally lost the headache and had a good night's sleep. Up at 0630 and cabbed (4$) back to Wild Riders. Thornston was there. Younger than Thomas, and looking a little tired. The bike, a Honda 250cc Tornado was a fair looking, not too tired rental in Yellow. We checked the weather and the map and decided I could do my planned route up to Arenal Volcano if I didn't mind a little wet and wouldn't be too disappointed if I couldn't see the summit. Good thing we checked, as some of the planned route had been closed due to mudslide from an earthquake!
Back out Ruta Una past the airport to San Ramon, where I stopped to check the tires (habit). Rear was extremely low, maybe set up for off-roading. I put 30psi in both and it held for the remainder of the trip. What wasn't holding was the rear brake. They'd just worked on it and replaced the pads, but I couldn't get any bite no matter how hard I applied them, just a little drag. Good thing I always use front and rear together!
The road now headed up and north. This is how navigation is done. Where are you going? Ah, take this road to the sign for San Ramon, that road towards Tigre and San Isdro, watch for the turn off for La Fortuna and you cannot miss it! The hostel is 3km out of town. No route numbers, few mileages - only landmarks and nearby towns. Climbing into the mountains and into the clouds visibility went to less than 3 car lengths and the Frogg Toggs came out to keep out the mist and add a touch of warmpth. Worked well on both accounts. I cannot tell you about the vistas, as they were mostly the guts of cumulus, but the roads were relatively good, and the vegetation on either side was something out of Tarzan in the Jungle. Dense and deep and lush. Truely Cloud Forrests more than Rain Forrests. Caution in driving was the word, as I did not want to test my USMedical insurance policy here in Central America. The drivers were pretty cautions as well, in HUGE school bus and tour bus's. If, however, there was an opening, or opportunity to pass, it was fair game and whomever got there first made the most of it. It wasn't until later on that I made use of the diminutive size of the scooter.
La Fortuna reminds me of a Colorado Ski town in summer - lots of kayaks and bikes, building (or demolition?), and restaurants. Lots of gravel/dirt roads as well. The main plaza or park is adjoining the Church, which is common. From what the cab driver told me it is a well established custom that allows communities to have social gatherings after religious services. Good idea! Sort of a physical FaceBook.
My reservations were at Jardines Arenal, which, after some poking about, was 3km away from the Volcano. It is a lovely place, big rooms, nice airey restaurant, beautiful gardens and flower, but there was not the 'buzz' or population for which I was hoping. It was also 50$ for which I got 2 double beds and a private bath.
Having established a base I rode back into town for lunch at Bugy's Burger where I met James, a Canadian on a 60 day bicycle ride through Central America. He's been all over and looked like he had the cardiovascular fitness to prove it. We discussed staying in contact, the loneliness of the road as well as the impromptu friendships, and then I headed toward Laguna Arenal per my plan.
The photos don't do it justice, and, sadly, neither can my words. It is a moist, dense, verdant place where Nature is constantly trying to recover what man has scraped away, forcing armies of machete and weed-eater weilding workers to cut back the grasses and vines.
Approaching the lake I took the first dirt road between volcano and lake and attempted to follow the souther shore. I was blocked at Rio Chuito, where only a seasoned miner/rancher on horseback dared cross - that with water up to his knees!
On the way back I met Tom coming out of the jungle with a backpack. I passed him a hard candy and learned he was US born, CR raised, educated in Argentina, an entrepreneur in Uraguay, and living in retirement from the proceeds of selling that business. Money about gone he was taking a week to plan his next evolution - all at the age of 21!
Back through La Fortuna and a nice dinner of rice and shrimp at one of the open air restaurants along the way, then back to Hostel and bed.

Costa Rica Blitz!

25Feb09
In order to leave on the 0700 Flight from DFW to MIA, I woke up at 0445, with a slight head ache that would nag, fester, and rob me of spirit most of the day. Still, the send-off/birthday party with my buds was great - maybe next time I'll just move my birthday a little earlier.
Got a seat in back (as opposed to the jumpseats in the cockpit) on a pretty full flight. Good thing the connecting gates were close in MIA as the connecting time down to SJO (San Jose Costa Rica) was closer than it looked on paper. Even though that flight was weight restricted for weather in SJO, I got on with another seat in back, next to a friendly couple. He had some nervous disorder like Parkinsons, she was his sister and they were going adventure vactioning on the Pacific beaches in the south of Costa Rica. By adventure vacationing I mean they didn't have set plans or reservations and were taking the local bus down. I would have loved to get the details and get better acquainted, but between his constant movement and my dolor de cabeza, I spent long periods with my eyes shut.
Customs/immigration in Costa Rica was a non-event ; particularly carrying only a backpack and helmet bag. Speaking of which, all I took for this 4 day evolution was the clothes on my back (nylon fishing shirt, nylon zip-off pants, hiking shoes, and extra set of the same and scrubs for pj's, minimal toiletries, my soft-armored mesh motorcycle jacket which I wore in the airports, helmet, Frogg Togg waterproofs, Croc's shoes, one video and one still camera. The freedom this allowed was incredible! Didn't worry about overhead bin space, didn't check anything, and it was a piece of cake to keep track of things and pick up the room in the morning before leaving.
Jane at Hostel Bekuo, had offered two choices from the Airport to Hostel. A local bus followed by a taxi or walk, or a taxi the whole way. I opted for the latter due to simplicity this first time and it was 23$ for the approx 18km delivered to the door. We even stopped along the way to locate Wild Riders Motorcycle Rentals, which turned out to be further from Bekuo than I'd expected. Cabbie was friendly and gave a little tour as well as a mini Spanish lesson. From the Airport it was Ruta Una into San Jose, left on Paseo Colon, a little jog onto Avenida Dos and one block over to Bekuo.
Jane is a lovely American/CostaRican girl in her early twenties with beautiful eyes and oh the accent. As before, the youth hostel seems like more of a home with a large number of college students sleeping over, or a frat house, than a hotel/motel. My room was a dorm room with 4 bunkbeds, though only 2 other occupants. For that and a common bath I paid 12$. Only drawback was that while I was retiring at 9pm the rest of the house was just gearing up for the night. Ear plugs to the rescue!
After settling in I walked back to the m/c shop, about 45 min at a brisk pace. Lots of schools, churches, museums and theatres, but all in decline. Or under construction. Looked about the same. Sidewalks were all jammed with people and cracked/uneven, with deep deep gutters and anklebusting pot holes. Cuidado!
The shop was locked up and no one around, but a sweet little old lady with Ash Wednesday, ah, ashes on her forehead answered the buzzer, made a call, and finally Thomas came over from his garage a block away. We did the inital paperwork, discussed weather and routing. He suggested the coast might be better, but we'll just see what tomorrow brings. I've ridden in the wet before.
Back to the hotel by way of KFC and to bed.
Whatta Puss.

I'm NOT obsessive! and they ARE out to get us!

Ok, this is what solved the problem well enough for me to get back to the border in a precautionary bailout from my trip.
It held the (replacement) oil in and didn't fall out.
What more could I ask?

This is my 'solution' after 400$ for a 3 day trip to Saltillo NL Mexico and back.
Oh, and 300$ for new bearings and seals and 'guidance', plus half a day in the parts washer, and a day on the bench.
The neutral switch only gets changed with the transmission out, and the transmission drain plug is accessible enough to wire during any fluid change.
Now my motto (at least for drain plugs) is "What, me worry?"

Yes, I'm going to do the Engine Oil Drain Plug too. And then maybe the final drive and drive shaft.

12NOV08 Re-entry......

After a nice meal of shish-ka-bob on rice and frijoles, I retired to my room to listen to Spanish TV and the sound of 18-wheelers roaring northbound. One small veniette I forgot at the beginning of this trip:

The morning clerk at La Hacienda, as I was checking out, told me to be careful in Mexico. Having been repeatedly warned of the dangers of kidnapping, drug cartels, police on the take, etc, I launched into my "going across the border as quickly as I can, heading away from danger.." yadda yadda speech.
She said, "no, I mean watch out for the truckers. It's dangerous on a moto"
All she was trying to to was to tell a motorcyclist to be careful of big trucks. Again, this just put the trip back into perspective - first things first: drive carefully!

As promised, I waited only until dawn was blushing to the east and I could see hazards on the road before heading to my buddies who were, at that moment, sleeping in a Nissan pick-up in a parking lot in Laredo. I was further south than I had thought, so it was almost an hour before another 30$usd in toll and then the city traffic of Nuevo Laredo towards the vehicle immigration depot.
I had notice on the way in that the departure or cancellation booth stood alone in the parking lot, and did not require lining up for paperwork (or questions). A quick swing through the lot allowed the scanner (!!! pretty high tech stuff) to check my tag, the operator to check vin and pull said tag (most of it, anyway. Seems some always stays on the windshield as a badge of honor) and viacondios I was on my way to the bridge.
This morning I was IN traffic over the bridge between countries, and it was rush hour. Fortunately I noticed that bicycles, mopeds and motorcycles all seemed to take free advantage of their size to filter through sidewalks, blocked lanes, etc (even to the point of passing between the Federales and their armored car and the barricade) to rejoin the line when a slow accelerating car provided room. No one seemed to mind, so I did like the Romans. Not the Greeks.

Citizenship? US!
Whatcha doing in Mexico? Trying to get out!
PASS! Welcome Home!
and another 3$usd.

Sure enough, there were James and Jeff, all set to load the bike in the back and be off. I'd say they looked no worse for wear, but then, they always have a worn look about them.
After a short demonstration of spontaneous engineering (no ramp) we strapped the bike down and headed north for 7 hours.

Thanks again, guys.