bitznpieces

New Mexico Trip Part II

2010-09-28T12:48:00.000-07:00

12SEP10 Departure day starts early, as usual. With my earplugs and exercise yesterday the early, early riders do not disturb me, and it isn't until about 0730 that I actually could be called 'awake'. It's fun and fascinating to see everyone pack up. So many types of tents, so many styles of saddle bags, so many methods of packing. Somehow it all fits - and what doesn't gets bungee'd on somewhere. It isn't unusual with the great vendor deals available to see extra helmets, boots, bags or whatnot attached to bikes heading as far away as, well, Minnesota! My own routine is pretty set, and I get it all put away about the same time as Dave. He was heading down to Albuquerque to visit a friend, and then up to Durango CO to visit his late wife's ashes. You may think that would be a lonely thing to do on a motorcycle, but I believe he made enough friends over the weekend to ease it up a bit. And besides, a little alone time is a good thing.

For me the day will be to head to Las Vegas NM for breakfast at the Hillcrest Restaurant, then down to Tucumcari for gas and to pick up I-40E THROUGH Amarillo (what IS that SMELL??) and on to Hinton OK to camp at Red Rock Canyon SP. Why not home, you ask? Well, my youngest daughter Emily is now a freshman at Oklahoma City University, and has Monday afternoons free. My wife had the opportunity to help Emily set up camp in the dorm and to visit while I tended our other daughter still at home, Robin, but I haven't yet seen the campus on the other end of my paycheck. On Monday I hope to share lunch and be impressed. The ride is the ride, and while the trip out of the mountains is depressing, the ride through the prairie and down to Tucumcari buoys my spirits. Then I get on I-40E and simply put my head down. Until Hinton. There I get off the interstate and pass thru town for the SP, first stopping at THE grocery for food. Again the selection of meat is labeled by day and use. Todays cut for grilling, Yesterdays cut for stew, and beyond that - dogfood. If you didn't like your dog. Times are hard, and don't you forget it. There was a young couple with 3 bags of groceries at the check out looking as intent as if they were buying a car together. When their check wouldn't clear the computer I thought they were going to weep. Finally a supervisor came and manually over-rode the machine (there's a Ray Bradbury story there, I'm sure of it) so they could get on with their lives.

At the State Park I puttered back to my usual spot, and as, ah, usual, there was a story in the next campsite. Guy and Gal. Coulda Shoulda been a romantic evening, but I could hear him bait her with politically charged statements and then set off on a speech. Not once, but several times.

I was beginning to wonder if a move was in order, then things got quiet.
Great!
Then things got noisy. In a way that would have made even a hotel room inadequate.
Hubboy.

Earplugs are the greatest invention of the modern world - allowing anyone to sleep anywhere.
If they can keep their imagination in check.

New Mexico Trip Part II

2010-09-28T12:47:00.000-07:00

11SEP10
Hiking today, Mean it.
This time when I roll the bike to the bottom of the hill I am not alone and there is a collective sigh of relief when the bike fires up strongly. Thanks Dave.
Off through Taos to the ski resort. Note: NM150, which leaves 522 north of Taos and is an in/out to the ski resort, is a beautiful ride, in deep canyon shade with twists and falls and is worthy on it's own.
At 0945, about an hour later than I'd have liked, but such is vacation, I shuck my road gear for trail duds and am headed uphill; a status that will continue for the next 8 miles. Well, there are some appreciable downhill bits - but that only means MORE uphill both coming and going. Sigh. Just like life.
At about 1315 (or 1:15pm) I join a group at the summit and we do our little dances of self congratulation and try to get cell phone signal. Along the way I've seen marmot, chipmunks or ground squirrels, and prong horn. I have also passed several groups and not been passed myself. I feel pretty good about that, for an old 54 year veteran of this planet.
My last foot fall on the trail is 1630 (4:30pm - c'mon, get with it) and I am pleased to have covered 16 miles and +/- 4500 of elevation change. Now it's back to camp for the big Saturday night burrito and hoe-down. Hoe Down? I wonder if that comes from putting ones' 'hoe down', stopping work, and recreating?
Revelry lasts to the wee-hours (so called because that's when I usually wake up to (yup) wee), but I do not, and sleeping in 38 degrees is just right!

New Mexico Trip Part II

2010-09-28T12:46:00.000-07:00

10Sep10
Where are you riding today? not How are you? or How did you sleep? is the first question you'll be asked at a BMW rally. I amaze my circle by announcing my intent NOT to ride, but rather to hike - up Wheeler Peak (again), highest point in NM at 13,200 or so. Quizzical looks and flying eyebrows tell me I'm not making much sense, but that's ok. I'm here to do what I want to do - and I've already plowed most of these roads last month and in previous years.
As a courtesy I roll my bike from between the tents and down to the flat near the road and attempt to start it. That's right - attempt. At first I put it down to the cold, but on the second push of the starter the lights go out and the starter sounds like a cricket. A sick cricket.
Then nada.
Crap.
I've been nursing and rationalizing an electrical problem since two summers ago when daughter Emily and I rode up to Banff Canada and back. The generator light which is supposed to illuminate before start and extinguish at idle (+) RPM hasn't been coming on regularly. For all this time, however, the bike has continued to start and run fine.
Until today.
I have cables and begin asking for help. All I want is a running bike from which to draw enough power to start my bike, and then I still believed (mistakenly) that it will recharge itself. What I get are offers of other avenues - kind and well intended, but not what I want/need. FINALLY another rider is about to leave and in 2 minutes we siphon electrons to start my bike and I am off!
For about 15 of the 20 miles into Taos.
My GPS says 'external power lost', the bike surges, and then dies, and I coast to the side of the road.
Well, at least I'm sure of one thing - the charging system isn't working if that light doesn't come on like it's supposed to! Ah well, I'm at ease. I have tools, I have resources at the rally, and it isn't raining. In fact, the day is BEAUTIFUL, just like all the days at the rally will be this year. So I remove the battery, stash my 'valuables', and stick my out my thumb. 5 min later a pick-up stops and 15 minutes later I am back at the rally.
Dave is still there, and offers any assistance he can, and after locating a spare battery (care of the Land of Enchantment BMW Riders Club) that will fit I am on the back of his bike heading towards Taos.
We replace the battery and the bike starts, but Dave, as a professional, is dissatisfied with leaving it at that and cajoles me into troubleshooting the charging system (aka Doing It Right) and we take apart the instrument cluster and de-corrode the connections. Voila! Bright light before start, Dark light while running, and 13+v going back into the battery.
As a thank-you I take him to lunch in Taos, and then we ride the southern end of the Enchanted Circle to Angle Fire, and down 434 to Mora, where I tarry to take photographs in the evening sun.
Back at camp we are treated to firey chili and bluegrass music by the babbling trout stream, and I am grateful for the resourcefulness and comradre of the BMW clan.

New Mexico Trip Part II

2010-09-28T12:44:00.000-07:00

9Sep10
This write up is a little after the fact. It's still in the same month, though - I'm not leaving you hanging on the edge of the Andes again!
While it is extremely convenient that American Eagle flys into Santa Fe (SAF) airport these days, they do so in small commuter jets that tend to fill up quickly and unexpectedly. Instead of departing DFW on Friday the 10th, 'space available' was rapidly becoming 'space un-available' and I needed to didi on Thursday afternoon. A quick call (oh dear, even that action word has been up-dated! a quick TEXT) to my friends and Jeff B broke off his busy day to take me to the big airport.
A little concern over my hiking poles with their sharp carbide tips was quickly put at ease (didn't even raise an eyebrow), but my 4oz of deodorant stick had to go (sorry, 16A and 16C, whoever you were!)
EZ flight and land at SAF with it's adobe styled terminal, and the 20 minute walk over to Airport Storage. I stopped along the way to buy a tire gage, and witnessed the all too human ego display that must give God the willeys every time it happens.
"Miss, you need to turn on pump 4" "But you told me pump 6" "No, I didn't, just turn on pump 4" "Ok, but you told me pump 6" "No, I didn't" "Yes, you did. Pump 4 is on now".
This pass all I was carrying was hiking poles, toiletries (less than expected) and one extra set of clothes. After all, everything else was still on the bike waiting for me! Tuck in here, repack there and I'm off with a wave to Ian, who was making the rounds with his two pit-bull dogs.
Route for today is simple - up NM599 north to 285, switch to 68 at Espanola, and then cut off on 75 thru Penasco to 518 and the Sipapu Ski Resort. While I wasn't the first to set up camp (by any means) I was still able to use the very same site I've used for over 6 years now, at the far end of the 'noisey' campground away from the lodge, at the foot of the ski slopes next to the trees and the wooden out house.
Pulling in I am greeted by a couple who peer into my visor, note my campsite and cry RANDY!!!
I am at a loss as to who they are.
Folks begin to look familiar while their name and origin of contact elude me. Nancy and Curtis are from north of Denver and we met 2 years ago.
My next door (next flap? we are camping) neighbor is a new guy, though. Really new - like a rally virgin. Dave Long is riding a lovely R1200RT down from Minneapolis-St Paul on an extended tour. Turns out he was a Navy enlisted man, and while still in his prime (just like me only a couple years more), has moved through several careers since then. Including electrician, which will come to play a part in our story.

A Child of the Magenta Line

2010-09-07T11:21:00.000-07:00

Technology is continually changing, that's for sure. In modern times the rate of change has been changing too - it's been accelerating. In college I was issued both a slide rule and a calculator (guess which one I used more?). During my times in the Navy I had to learn semaphore and Morse code, but that was immediately obsolete with VHF, and HF radio communications. As a pilot I read about flying the null and actually did fly VOR's, but the first was gone even before I pushed a throttle forward and the second is withering as I type, replaced by GPS. Even typing has gone through the flux-gate. I have a MANUAL typewriter with ribbon and tack-a tack-a keys and a bell at the end of the line, which was replaced by a thermal dot matrix printer, then a computer keyboard and now a touch screen txt-ing smart phone.
Where does it end?
Is it worth it?
The speedometer on my motorcycle starts with a gear attached to the drive shaft, which spins a cable in a housing, which spins a disc with a magnet, which affects another disc and magnet which moves a needle over the instrument face with numbers. The only 'magic' is the magnetic connection (so you don't break the needle when you move backwards). For distance that same cable drives a gear which rotates numbers on a column. It will count backwards.
If you know a motorcycle rider, you know that two of the most important topics of conversation are Speed and Distance. The problem is that that mechanical connection between the rear wheel and the speedometer has 'slop', sometimes a little, sometimes a lot, and there's reader error as well. So two riders can travel together exactly the same rate and one will claim to have been going 80mph and the other may claim 85mph and both will be telling the truth, as best they can.
Put a GPS on the bike and see what happens.
Now the bragging rights of traveling 85mph all day long becomes 77mph, and a little of the wind has been taken out of our hero's sails. Along with that are the little cookies which the GPS leaves behind as a TrackBAck feature (so Hanzel and Grettle can find their way home). Goose the throttle up a little bit and do 85 on the GPS and get pulled over by State Trooper Rock Hammer and try to explain that you were only doing 77 in a 75 and watch him highlight a cookie reading 85 on the GPS.
Tag, you're it!
Even more, put an emergency locator, like SPOT, on your bike to keep folks at home appraised of your location and voila! Not only is your speed available, but when you decide to visit a location not approved by she-who-must-be-feared, it is impossible to sweep over the GPS track with a bushy branch and claim innocence.
Don't ask me how I know.
Whatever you may have paid for your device, it's screen will never be the size of a folding road map, and so another small problem, no pun intended, is that to see where you are you have to cut away where you could go. I mean, the scale is so large that you see but a postage stamp map and can easily pass by the World's Largest Ball of String or Biggest Frying Pan and never see it though it was only 3 miles to your side!
Then there's the idea of sharing your travels with friends.
Oh, the Internet is a wonderful place full of information and communication. There's email and facebook and blogspot. There's also cell phone coverage for person to person calls, texting, and tweeting. But the thing is, how do you cover them all? And more importantly, do you really want to?
My daughter likes to send me a message via my facebook wall. So I get a note posted there, but then I get an email telling me to look at my facebook wall. So why couldn't she just send me the email herself? Or, since she's doing this on her smart phone, why doesn't she just call and speak to me directly?
These things puzzle me as I ride along at 77mph.
The Magenta Line?
In recent pilot training one of the grey heads who was tasked to instruct us in the newest forms of navigation (now there's another subject for discussion: why are those tasked to teach the NEW-est usually the OLD-est?) coined the phrase. Early aviators flew above roads or tracks or along rivers. To identify a town they would circle a water tower proudly announcing MEMPHIS, HOME OF THE FIGHTING ELVISES, or even (gasp) turn off the engine to shout to stupefied ground walkers for directions. Radio came along and we flew invisible beams between stations with little relation to ground features. We no longer open maps to plan a route, select navigation radio stations, tune them in, identify them by Morse code, and fly a compass bearing or radial. The navigation system does all that for us, and checks with GPS as well, reducing our aviation maps of aerial highways down to a single magenta line which the autopilot tracks with plus or minus a tenth of a mile accuracy. Maps? We've got 'em, but they are as pristine as when they came out of the mailer.
Hey, Captain, what's that lake on the left?
Uh..........?
I am a child of the Magenta Line.

So, How were the roads?

2010-09-02T06:54:00.000-07:00

One of my rider friends who is rumored to have introduced Harley to Davidson posed the question - would any of the roads you took prohibit a regular street bike with a reasonably skilled rider?

Hmmm.

While I'd like to say that only the most skilled off-road rider on the finest off-road equipment should attempt to follow my trail,

it ain't so.

The BMW R80 G/S is not meant as a stump hopping trials bike. It is meant as a bike that can be good on paved roads and dirt roads or fields. (Glade and Strada). I rode 10+ hours out there on high speed pavement, then took whatever dirt road I fancied from the maps.

On dirt for a 'normal street bike' you have three things working against you - the first is tires. I run Distanzia 80/20 tires (80% street 20% dirt) which allow decent road work and fair dirt. They have some grip in loose stuff and mud but don't vibrate too much on pavement. Second is body-work. The 'normal' bike now has enough fiberglass or plastic fairing on it that if the body work is seriously damaged from a fall (even in a parking lot) it can be a total loss to the insurance company. Not to mention guys like to keep those bikes 'pretty'. The G/S has next to no body work - only enough to keep much out of the rider's eyes and out of the battery area. Finally is confidence. Many experienced street riders will pull up like a cow at a cattle-guard when the pavement turns to gravel or dirt. They've just never done it.

Even with better tires there is still the problem of WHAT IF.
What if you fall over (good possibility) and have to pick up that big ol' bike by yourself?
What if you get past the point of no return on gas or time and come onto a patch that definitely requires more suspension? Now, that can happen to the G/S (or any bike/rider) too - but it takes more. If the distance between two gas stations is 100 miles and you do 99 and come to a stop, guess what? it's 99 back!
What if all the vibration and jolting causes something to disconnect or fall off? Would you be able to diagnose and repair it?

I suspect that given the desire a normal rider on a normal bike with normal tires could take the dirt CR and occasionally NF roads I wandered.
But they wouldn't like it much.

So I think my answer to the question is -

Maybe.

But that's what makes it an adventure, not just a ride.

These are a few of my favorite things...

2010-09-01T09:46:00.001-07:00

2010 New Mexico Trip Part 1

2010-09-01T06:47:00.000-07:00

Friday 27 August 2010

After a leisurely get up and pack I violated my own rule - if a shower facitlity is available use it, you never know... - and headed south along NM84 with no particular destination in mind, just a general plan.
And you know what they say about plans and vacuums.

The RV Campground office was a WiFi hotspot, so on my phone I was able to locate a Youth Hostel in Santa Fe, and determine that the two (12:15 and 4:00) American Eagle flights had open seats. I 'planned' to ride south, pick up some dirt, and then camp out at the hostel until Saturday but IF things worked out I could take the 4pm flight home and be able to watch my son on stage at Pirate Days in Grandbury Tx.
A can of fruit cocktail and some hand picked blueberry's later and I was on my way. The blueberry's warrant a little explanation.
Last night as I was checking emails and weather I noticed a woman, about my age, walking tenuously out the gate towards town, and then returning a very short time later. I asked if everything was ok and she said she'd only gone out to get a view of the sunset. We chatted and it turns out she's traveling solo, either tenting or sleeping in the back of her Saturn, getting away from Santa Fe for the first time in 7 years - after taking care of her ailing aged mother. We chatted about roads, destinations, careers (she and her ex-husband had had an eclectic collection of jobs from interim B&B managers to art shop clerks), and taking care of loved ones. The next morning (today) I offered coffee (refused - she's a tea drinker) and she countered with the berries. When was the last time someone at Starbuck's bought you a muffin?
Read Steinbeck's TRAVELS WITH CHARLIE, you'll be glad you did.

There was a little dirt road by Cebolla that went 9 miles in to a trout lake. When I got there it was actually fairly developed with a potty and picnic area. Someone had not read the signs admonishing that campfires be drowned, stirred and drowned again, and I spent 15minutes shuffling water from the lake to the smoldering fire ring in a coke-can.

Further south I left pavement for dirt again on 115 at Canjilon, and spent the next 40 miles alone with the pines, mesas and cattle, emerging again near El Rito and Las Placitas on NM554, which lead me back to NM84 south. Having accomplished all the plans I'd made pre-trip, and having time and seat available, I simply headed back to the SAF (Santa Fe) airport, tucked the bike away (gas taps off, electrics disconnected, leave all hazmats), and got listed for the 4pm flight by 3pm. Like a charm. In an hour thirty I covered all the ground it'd taken me a day to do on the bike, with a soda in my hand and Kindle on my lap.

So now I look forward to 9September and my flight back to collect my bike, enjoy the Land of Enchantment Riders BMW Rally in Sipapu NM (just south of Taos), and bring it home for the winter.
Until next time - Bien Viaje!

2010 New Mexico Trip Part 1

2010-08-30T06:37:00.000-07:00

Thursday 26 August 2010

I seem unable to get the airplane onto the ground. Finally, after it does touch down, I'm told by tower to make a right turn at the end to exit. "Speed permitting" I quip, then curse as I am too fast to turn and roll off the end of the pavement. In the ensuing chaos I seem to have lost my uniform and am in shorts and t-shirt and Captain's hat directing the emergency vehicles. Then I wake up with a headache and wonder what's up with that.

It's 0600 and 45 degrees or so. My sleeping bag is doing just fine this trip. On previous excursions it has fallen short somewhere around 0200 and 40 degrees, and I've wound up wearing nearly as much as when riding. A t-shirt, shorts, tube socks, and (of course) my fleece hat seem to do the trick until the nocturnal temperature nadir, when simply stuffing a fleece jacket down into the voids of the bag seems to work. I did take precautions and set up my stove/food at a distance from the tent, so to make coffee I had to get dressed and then drag it all back over. No problem. Again, not having to match speeds with someone else made it a low stress event. While I pack school buses begin to kick up dust along the NF road. Back in the saddle I'm heading for Coyote NM eastbound on NM96, and about to cross the point of no return. Here in the DFW MetroMess you never really have an excuse to run out of gas - virtually every exit has several choices. Along NM roadways, however, with a motorcycle's range, you can reach a point where there'd better be gas available in the next town - or your adventure level will increase as you begin looking for a good Samaritan. When I arrive at THE store there are two pumps (good) and one pickup already waiting (not good). There are also several high school aged boys milling about, and one old rancher of indeterminate age and heritage. Native American? Mexican? We do a little awkward dance, and then sit in mostly silent prayer lifting up the safety, health, and work ethic of the store owner. To no avail. Should be open by 0730, so by 0845 the old rancher acknowledges with a slight grin - 'I guess no store today', and we all look for alternate gas. My next option is Abiquiu further east, and it is a delight. Though there is a modern gas plaza display of pumps out front, there are also fresh produce stands and a homemade ice cream (bags of rock salt will testify) store. Inside Bode's Store are selections of hardware, gifts, sporting goods (fishing), grocery items, video, and a deli/grill maned (oops, let's say 'run' by women next time, shall we?) by a couple of ladies who look like they found their niche after nearly a lifetime of looking. Breakfast burritos are being wrapped and displayed (no questions about whether or which chili you'd like - it'll be red because it's good, it's good for you, and that's the only way we make 'em here). The cork board advertisements are like an Indian Totem - part history, part news, part want-ads, and the banter is quick and friendly - "You know, Jess, I can't complain about the service here - THERE AIN'T ANY! HAR!
From Abiquiu I head north on NM84 to Chama. This road has some of the most arresting rock formations and colors in the state, including a huge natural amphitheatre. As always, the process of 'did you get a picture?' is more complex traveling solo on a bike at 65 (ahem) mph. Looking along the road something catches your eye. 1/4mile later you realize it was photo worthy, 1/4mile more and you decide you probably should take a photo, then you have to clear for a U-turn and go back and find the item/view you saw AND a safe place to pull off and take the snap. Then it's imperative to clear again for another U-turn back onto the highway. I haven't taken a photo yet worth getting hit by a car for - but I'm not a very good photographer.

I've been to Chama before, and know there's a good RV campsite on the north end of town, which allows me to enjoy the adverts and teasers along the way for what they are. I offer up 16$ and leave tent and baggage (except for tank bags which have survival stuff (jumper cables, tire products, water and food)) then head west on NM64 to Dulce and the Jicarilla Nation. Again, there's a wiggly line on the map that bears further exploration. On the west side of town is the Narrow Gauge Scenic Roadway, which once paralleled the NG Scenic Railroad. It's not a bad dirt road, but it is made up of that uber fine powder that, when wet, turns into the slickest lubricant known to man (Andy Granatelli actually stole the whole 'screwdriver in a can of STP' thing after watching a biker try to ride knobbies thru an 8' long puddle of the stuff), and there are numerous places where the road has been over run by small streams or run-off from yesterday afternoon's rains. Luckily about the time I'm beginning to consider the merits of going forward or turning about, the road goes to gravel and I can focus on the other question: where am I?

Maps/GPS sometimes do not reflect actual road location or condition.
I think I'll have that on my tombstone.

Eventually I hook up onto CR500 which takes me into Colorado and Pagosa Springs where I rejoin 84 south to Chama for a reward of Alien Ale and Pizza. While out collecting my prizes I take time to enojoy the Cumberland and Toltec Scenic Railroad station in town. In the evening light the old machines speak of years of service and hint of the ghosts of men who built, maintained and ran them.

It's been a long day,

and a good one.

2010 New Mexico Trip - Part 1

2010-08-29T06:55:00.000-07:00

Wednesday 25 August 2010

It's easy to sleep after a long day's ride when the temperature has gone from 100+ to 50- At least it was for me. It was the honking of geese and the rising sun that finally turned me out of my sleeping bag at 0700 to head for a shower and begin the day. Traveling solo has one major advantage that seems to outweigh the disadvantages. I am always in sync with the plan because I make it. If it takes me 30min to pack and go I have no one on whom to wait. If it takes 2 hours to find my keys or savor my coffee there's no one tapping their foot or looking at their watch. No pressure, no guilt. Today was about an hour before I headed back over to Blake's for a great breakfast burrito and a disappointing cup of coffee. I find the coffee-in-a-thermos that places are using now somehow produces a less palatable brew than the aquarium-round glass ball nestled in it's burnished steel knot-hole.
My camera let me know that it was time for new batteries, and I'd lost a pair of foam earplugs, so it was off to the ever present Walmart for supplies. Including Aleve. How far from 'civilization' must you go to escape WallyWorld? But, secretly, aren't you glad they are there for your convenience?
This morning I intentionally head to the interstate - I-25 - southbound around the corner towards Santa Fe. Traffic is light, and the temps are such that several layers are required to keep warm at highway speeds. They will soon become too much and get removed and 'stuffed' when I make the turn north to explore NM63 up past Pecos NM. I'd seen this route on the map and after a little bit of wiggling 63 seems to just end in the National Forrest by Cowes. Pecos is a bit back from 25, and so does not get a lot of traffic or commerce. It shows. They do, however, have some beautiful churches and seem to take clergy and religion seriously. The road became less and less civilized until finally it was merely a single lane NF road but asphalted (!) winding through pines and around rocks until ending at a dirt trail head parking lot. Along the way were private homes on lease from the NF service. Beautifully simple yet complete log homes with brilliantly colored lawn chairs (those old metal ones, like Rt66) out front and yard gnomes hiding under low pine branches.
My curiosity satisfied I returned to I-25 and into Santa Fe where I sought out the SAF airport and U-storage. I do try to take care of my 'horse' on trips, at least by making sure there's a safe place for it to stay when I go home. Airport Storage is 1.25 miles from the terminal, and Ian was happy to set me up with a 5x10 unit and my own personal PIN to unlock the gate. Quick, pick 4 numbers. What did you use? Social? Address? Phone? I typically hark back to Plebe Induction Day at USNA when, wearing stiff new white canvas uniforms, 1400 of us were told to memorize everything on this card. So my Mid'n Identification Number is my passkey. Good luck breaking THAT code!
Anyway. That accomplished it was up NM285 to NM502 and west toward Los Alamos, where I got onto NM4 for some twisty, climbing and diving action. It's breathtaking, at 7800', riding around Bandalier Wilderness, and I should have prepared myself mentally to park the bike and take a walk, but I hadn't, so I didn't. I just rode and rode until I came to Jimmez Springs Forrest (another breath-taking-ly beautiful spot) and turned off onto NM126 which is bladed dirt. I'd been here before, may years ago, but had forgotten how nice it was. It is about 40 miles of bladed packed and occasionally rutted dirt road, with cattle guards and cattle sprinkled here and there. My plan was to cut off onto a less developed dirt road and come up the back way to Coyote, but unfortunately the road was harsher than I was willing to handle and even with GPS I was less than confident in my directions, so I finished 126 into Cuba, swung north on 44/96 to Gallina, and then lit off into the San Pedro Mountains on an NF road and threw down my tent for the night. That's an interesting feeling, one that most of us have never had or cannot even imagine - to simply stop, leave the pavement for a dirt road, and then leave even that for a patch of grass and throw down a temporary shelter. I suspect a Motel 6 is as temporary a shelter as many of us can imagine. Again, I had water, food and shelter, so all was well. All was better than well.

All was fine!

2010 New Mexico Trip - Part 1

2010-08-29T06:11:00.000-07:00

Tuesday 24 August 2010

Hello Road, I've missed you. It's been a long time..... (sung to that C&W tune on the infomercial)

After burning a day of vacation to wrap up (I thought) some family car problems (they came unwrapped shortly after returning from my trip, but that's another story), I was packed up and at 0800 headed out - to Starbuck's for a traditional send off from one of my friends.
Back in the days of Columbus and Cook, one was granted audience before the King and/or Queen to explain the purpose of the expedition and plead for permission and money. Later Shackleton and Mallory would convene the Explorers or National Geographic Society to lay out their plans. In modern times we meet our buddies at Starbuck's Coffee to pick up some VIA instant coffee and have one or two for the road (which will cause us to stop again shortly to leave number one or two by the road). It's all good.
Traffic was manageable up 287 through Ft Worth, and soon I was settling into the old rhythms, a pattern of boredom, reminiscence, and technical analysis of this vibration or that sensation trying to match it up with a recently replaced part or maintenance procedure (recall I have been known to lose drain plugs in inopportune times). Front wheel bearing? New Tire? Where do I go/stop and what can I do?
But rather than dwell on the negative, I decide it's good news that Wichita Falls and Amarillo are no longer in drought but have probably caught up and surpassed their needs, and I have successfully worn in at least the right side of my new rubber leaning into the North Wind.
I like to hang a left at Amarillo and head out I-40 for a bit to Tucumcari, then the real trip begins when I leave 40 for NM104. On this road one gets the same feeling as a night solo in an airplane or sailing out of sight of land. One travels mile after arid mile alone with no house or hint of human save a not-so-friendly barbed wire fence, and the goals of preventative maintenance and personal mechanical skills become crystal clear. At one point approaching the Chonchas Reservoir some mischievous soul has tinseled an 8' pine tree by the side of the road to crack a smile in those who pass by. Were it not for the Camel Back Hydration I carried, 'cracking a smile' would be a literal phrase. Water too has become important - out here you get back to the basics.
When my technical analysis threatened to overwhelm the beauty of my surroundings I would force myself to recall that I carried water, food and shelter with me, and was on no set schedule, so a breakdown would be an inconvenience, not a disaster.
At about 2000 (8pm) I arrived in Las Vegas NM, proceeded north up NM518 to Storrie Lake State Park and for 8$ was treated to a patch of grass between the lake and the clean bath-house. Quick dinner at Blake's Lot-a-burger (great fries!) and I was done for the day.

Sweet.

A short stetch of Hwy 281 - R100GS and Thruxton

2009-10-26T05:48:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-26T04:46:00.001-07:00

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

2009-10-26T04:45:00.001-07:00

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

2009-10-18T06:18:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-20T17:24:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-20T16:54:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-15T10:35:00.000-07:00

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

2009-03-15T07:04:00.000-07:00

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

2009-03-15T06:46:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-03-01T07:29:00.000-08:00

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!

2009-03-01T07:22:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-11-22T17:09:00.001-08:00

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......

2008-11-22T05:37:00.000-08:00

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.

11NOV08 and Dallas We have a Problema

2008-11-15T05:51:00.000-08:00

I am constantly amazed at how the mind works.

There I was, standing in the cockpit door of my airliner, talking to the people as we flew over Paris in sight of the Eiffel Tower, trying to locate my pants when suddenly I woke up and knew I needed to unplug the GPS power cord or risk draining the battery. Weird.

La Hacienda was a perfectly adequate motel, particularly for the price, and the internet and free breakfast were icing on the cake. The only tarnish was that breakfast didn't open until 8am, and I really wanted to be on the road by then. Oh well, free breakfast to an airline pilot is like a sardine to an aquarium seal. We'll do about anything for it. So I wasn't until 9 that I was in que for the first check-point in the border crossing.

From the hotel one simply gets back on I-35South and heads, uh, south to the bridge. Bridges. There are 3 bridges at Laredo. One, two, and Columbia (for commerce). I crossed on #1 and went immediately to the customs booth. Here you play the odds with a green/red traffic light. Push the button and get green - you are good to go. If it shows red, however, you will be among the (un)lucky few who have to unload and open all your bags for inspection. Verde, gracias.

From here if you intend to explore the interior beyond 25km, you'll need to visit the immigration/vehicle immigration station, which is not connected to the customs building. In fact, you get your first taste of Nuevo Laredo traffic by winding this way and that through the streets just south of the border following blue 'vehicle inspection' signs through some amazing intersections that defy verbal description.

The immigration depot has a large parkinglot and two doors at opposite ends far apart. How long it will take to transit from one to the other is up to the gods, your preparation, and luck. First you show your passport and fill-out the personal application for tourist card. Then you get copies made of your passport and the application, and if you have a car (motorcycle) of your drivers license and registration. Now you move to the Bancijerito line. Here is where the real fun begins as you make payments and leave deposits. Mexico wants to make sure that if you were to leave your vehicle they would still get the tax on it's sale, so you will pay 1) a fee for your personal travel card 2) a fee for your vehicle travel sticker 3) a returnable deposit of about 10% of the vehicles value according to their sources. Also, more copies and stamps. If your name is spelled the same on all your documents and all the dates are correct and and and, you will receive receipts for the above as well as a paper personal travel card (never asked for it again, but keep it safe anyway) and a sophisticated and important looking sticker for the windshield of your vehicle. I do not know what you do if your bike doesn't have a screen, as it is like the registration sticker here in Texas with the numbers/info on the sticky side so as to be visible from the opposite side of the glass.

Gracias.

Now slap that bad boy on your windshield, carefully store all your documentos, and drive out of the parkinglot. Not bad. Really.

The first 8 miles or so is just city traffic. Watch out for taxis and busses, follow the signs for Monterrey 85 Cuota, and keep moving. I like to get out of town ASAP and out where people are friendlier. After that you are on the Autopista, a fine brushed concrete road for about 100 miles of poke me in the eye boredom until about 20 miles north of MTY when the mountains begin to appear from the smog. You'll also pay about 300p for toll as you leave 85 and turn west on 40Cuota to Saltillo.

Note that many of the signs are vague as to the route number, but pretty specific on destination. You'll need to look at your mappage in a slightly different way than you may be used to doing.

Right turn and I'm heading around MTY and it's concrete plants. I joked that what you see from the highway is a facade - once you get around the back side the mountains are being carved away hollow to make concrete to put up the buildings on the front.

Another 150p fee and a turn south onto 57Cuota and it's just about to get interesting. Really interesting.

I was cruising towards a tollbooth at about 65mph, when the bike felt a little squirrelly - like a tire gone flat (had one of those last year, for comparison), quick visual showed nothing amiss, but at stopped at the booth I noted oil drops on my boot and the center stand was shiny. Hmmm, not good. So I pulled over into a service plaza . Well, it was a row of tiendas, panadarias, and towel snappers (window washers). When I got off the bike I saw immediately that the entire rear end was covered in oil - not just any oil but the highly fragrant transmission oil! Including and especially the rear tire. I got on my hands and knees and saw the cause - the transmission drain plug had vibrated off and fallen away! NOT good. Not good at all!
So now what? Well, to make a long story short, the towel snappers and I fashioned a replacement plug from a pipe fitting (peened over to close it), the tienda (store) happened to have 80-90 wt transmission oil, and I filled it back up. Rather than continue into the mountains and rough roads on an uncertain patch job and questionable transmission bearings, I called my rescue team of Jeff B and James P who volunteered to meet me in Laredo (neither has permission to leave the country). I turned about and headed north. Dammit. It was just getting good.
I may be overly conservative, but I'm not a Ted Simon type who can suffer a breakdown and just sit by the road and wait for karma to deliver salvation. It had, in the form of a plug and oils, but now I needed to not over tax it's abilities by breaking down a second time in the rough mountains of MX.
I got to the end of the northbound Cuota 85, 60miles south of Laredo and stopped at dusk at hotel El Rancho, which is sort of an oasis park with hotel, restaurant, store and gas station. Like Howard Johnson's on the interstate when you were a kid and your parents made you go swimming in your underwear.

An interesting day.

10NOV08 DFW to LRD and all is well, so far

2008-11-10T16:13:00.000-08:00

Anybody try the link? I know it has worked today, but I'm curious as to what will become of today's track tomorrow. Do the little cookies get eaten like Hansel and Gretel? I have to reset the device to track every 24 hours, so I suspect the website resets itself as well.
It is a mixed blessing to know that the guys are waiting at the coffee shop to send you off with their good wishes. One hurries when one should be contemplating the lists.
The lists.
You have a list for packing - which can take months to create and is sometimes nearly as much entertainment as the trip itself
You have a list of things to do in the morning before you leave. Those things you wake up and write down in an illegible hand.
And you have the list of things you remember about 40 miles from home when it's probably too far to go back, but maybe not, geez is it that important, can I live without it?
Hopefully the lists go from most important to least, and you can buy a spare whatsis at the Wally world when you go by.

ANYWAY, it was great of John B, Wolf T, James P, and Jeff B to meet me at Starbucks and walk around the bike pointing out unclosed zippers, drips of fluid and questioning the integrity of my tires and sanity.
Jeff even rode the first 40 miles with me.
After that is was due south for 6+47, or about 422 miles at 62 miles per hour average. Why so slow? Why any faster? Comfortable speed, cool day. Ran into a few showers between Austin and San Antonio, but didn't even need to add waterproofs.

It gets a little long after S.A., but eventually the White and Green Border Patrol vans become increasingly frequent, and the license plates more foreign. I'm esconched in La Hacienda at exit 3A, just a couple miles north of the border. 45 a night, all included, free internet and breakfast. Cool. When the receptionist said to hold on while she made a key, I was expecting the mag-swipe plastic card that so befuddle Richard Gere in Pretty Woman. Wrong. She went to a cutting machine and CUT a METAL key blank and then took dies and stamped the number on it.
She didn't look much like Julia Roberts anway.
Right across the street they sell MX insurance (60$ for 4 days) which is literally a 'get out of jail free' card and YOU NEED ONE. It took longer than I expected (get used to that, Randy), so I didn't have time to cross over and get my tourist card and vehicle card. The ins agent suggested that it might be better to do in the morning and just keep going anyway. I think she meant for the continuity of it, but also it follows my own idea of hitting the border at 90 degerees and keep on going AWAY from any trouble. Not like I've seen any.

Ok, so far I've see no trouble. I have cell coverage, GPS mappage, SPOT following, and internet.

Not much of an adventure.

9NOV08 The night before departure

2008-11-09T15:58:00.000-08:00

How could I have left all this until the last minute?

Food? Clothes? Tools? Parts? Packing? and now this tracker thingie.
It's called SPOT and if you'll got to this website:
http://share.findmespot.com/shared/faces/viewspots.jsp?glId=0HSRss2qR9qs52jNN8q7yJe2UgnFTgDIh
you should be able to watch my progression. Should being the operative term as I am borrowing the unit and have a limited amount of time to play with it and modify it's e-signature...
I'll flesh this out more later (yeah, right, like I'm gonna finish the trek to Machu Picchu!), but theres the site.
Suerte!

25Oct08 The Weather, The Game, The Tailgater

2008-10-27T17:31:00.000-07:00

Not nearly as cold in a Class a motorhome as in a K for Kabin! This RV living is pretty soft, I must say! Lou and I got up around 0800 and he fixed coffee and raisin bran, and then we headed into town for another cuppa at Starbucks (he's an admitted addict) and to watch the city dock activities. The weather is predicted to be rainy, but looks like there are some nice breaks - we'll just have to see as it goes.
While we were sitting at the window bar in Sbucks, it was like a scene from Mary Poppins outside - at first the pedestrians and tourists were just strolling about, under a cloudy but blue pocked sky - then suddenly the flags swung around as the wind shifted direction and freshed, and the rain begain to fall, and then to pour, and the aforementioned peoples began to run after errant umbrellas and lost warmpth. My coffee was just fine, thank you very much!
Finalyl things broke and we headed in to the Midshipman Store. Once a year non-military personnel are permitted into this low cost, government subsidized campus store where everythng from fine jewelery to toiletries to souveniers to clothing is available at sometimes remarkable prices. There was nothing I needed, and, gratefully, little I wanted, so I got nothing but the pleasure of noting how much the place had changed in 30 years. For example, we were the last class to be issued slide-rules, and the first to get TI calculators. Now there are laptops available and desktops issued. We also thought a Nikon 35mm camera was top of the line, now the digital.... oh, you get the idea.
In short order it was show time for the tailgate party, and we were still dodging rain showers. Finding parking was easier than I'd expected, due, no doubt, to the bursts of rain and the busses bringing in what spectaters there were directly to the stadium. While there were some tailgate parties gutting it out under tents in the lot, ours was a huge catered affair of 900 (I'm told, I lost count at 20, no, 21, dammit, I have to start again) in the main pavilion area. From 1 to 9pm we were under orders to eat as much of whatever we wanted and drink as much of whatever we wanted as we, ah, wanted; all the while ciculating like toilet water around the room looking for long lost classmates. Ok, maybe toilet water isn't the best analogy - but you know what I mean.
Here was the interesting part: milling through the cowd you might see a face that was vaguely familiar, then catch an eye and still not be sure, so you touch a shoulder or elbow and extend a hand. As smiles, names and that look of recognition are exchanged a special effect worthy of a Hollywood Oscar occured and 30 years of age ran off the two faces in an instant. Wrinkles and fat disappeared and hairlines reappeared. "You look exactly the same!" was no longer a boldfaced lie but a heartfelt true statement.
While some companies of alumni had claimed tables and chairs, my group was centered around a stand-up table for 8 full hours as first lunch, then dinner, was rolled out and served. The bars never closed or slowed, nor did conversation. While the rain and wind raged outside (and SMU got their butts handed to them) we ate and drank and recounted for the hundredth time how mistreated we were by our firsty's (Senior Class) and how we abused the Plebe's (freshmen).
It was also noted that we had the last REAL Plebe summer, a statement ripe for argument from the sons of our class suffering in 2008.
Finally it was time to go. The food tables were gone, and the bar tenders sitting against the wall in a state of shock. Still, we lingered here. There is something magical about the sense of belonging to this group that none of us wanted to leave. Was it the of 4 years of school? Was it the military service with its sacrifices and common experiences? Was it that this group of people has known each other for over 30 years and STILL came the distance to raise a glass in honor of each other? Whatever it was, we left with mixed emotions and a promise to meet again.

24OCT08 Arrival of the Masses and Sup's Party

2008-10-27T17:25:00.001-07:00

Spacer

Memory Lane 23OCT08

2008-10-23T16:01:00.001-07:00

BRISK!!!! But it's all good when you are on holiday and looking forward to the day. Didn't get up until the sun was full out, hoping that would warm things up in the kabin, but it is well insulated and more like a refridgerator than you'd believe. It was fun to take advantage of the FREE WIRELESS INTERNET to check in with the folks back home.

First stop was the Walmart up the road, where I picked up some fruit for snacks, a fleece blanket and some long-johns! A 10$ space heater looked tempting as well, but I put it off in anticipation of my buddy Lou's RV due to roll in tomorrow at midday.

Finally off to Annapolis, with that inital trepidation over what my emotions would be. Ghosts? Memories? Regrets? It is difficult to convey what this place means to me. Not only is the town picture perfect (and the day matched it, warming to about 60 under a clear sky-blue sky), but the Academy is still manicured, awesome, orderly, and full of purpose and energy. I spent probably the best 4 years of my life there, with the best of the best, and I am humbled and grateful every time I go back and see it, and think of them.

Since most of my company/classmates are arriving on Friday, I took the day to walk around and get my 'tourist' out so I could concentrate on them. I coffeed at the city dock and checked in with the harbormaster to find out about rates and requirements (not bad at all - 25$ a day on a mooring buoy or 2$ a foot at the pier!), then strolled a loop around my old 'dorm' wing of Bancroft Hall. Coming around one of the many new buildings I was presented with another reminder of how great the legacy of the Naval Academy is: a bronze statue of Adm Stockdale. One of the many boots new midshipmen strive to fill.

Around noon I headed to a yacht broker for a look in the flesh of a Nonsuch 30 sailboat. The drive over was just wonderful - the trees are turning colors (cold, remember, it's cold) and the roads are smooth and winding, much like I remember from home in Sewickley PA. The boat itself was not a let down, though I am for the moment only looking. It needs serious fiberglass and core work, but is priced to make it attractive. As I expected the interior is plenty large enough for one or two people to live in, and the access to spaces was better than anything I've ever seen before (trying to work on a motor, for example, when hanging upside down through an opening the size of a cupboard door is not as easy as it sounds). There was also a smaller version, a 26', that was amazingly large inside - possibly big enough to live-aboard as well.

Back to town for some more wanderings, and then back up the KOA with a dinner of chili and bread.

I heard it's going into the 30's tonight.

Hubboy.

Off to reunion! 22Oct08

2008-10-23T15:41:00.000-07:00

I certainly don't believe it, but this weekend is my 30th college reunion in Annapolis, Maryland. US Naval Academy, class of 1978, SIR! In the words of Steve McQueen in "The Sand Pebbles" - What happened?

Typical Wednesday morning: get up, get Robin up and off to school, etc, then add in a drive to the DFW airport and flight to Baltimore MD. There I picked up a Chevy Cobalt from Hertz, which cost about 100$ more than I was expecting due to fees, taxes, etc, and is such a cheap car (HOW CHEAP IS IT?) - well, it's so cheap that you have to manually lock each door! The roll down windows don't bother me, but not being able to lock all 4 doors with the key or drivers lock is a pain! If you don't get the (HOW CHEAP IS IT?) crack, then you probably don't remember Johnny Carson as the host of the Tonight Show. Really, it hasn't always been Jay Leno. It used to be funny.

Anyway, next stop was the home of Ed and Phyllis Novak, parents of one of my classmates from Canoe U. They are wonderful people, and holding up well. It's like going home to see Mom and Dad, only without the nagging (since they don't know all that goes on in my life!). We showed pictures, caught up as best we could on what's happening/happened, and renewed vows to stay in better touch. This time I mean it.

Then on to see my high school teacher/lacrosse coach/sponsor from the Naval Academy, Dick Webster. Still gives me a little chill calling him Dick. "Coach" or "Mr. Webster" is MUCH more comfortable, no matter what he says. Again, sharing of photos and family news (he's a 9 times grandfather!) and it was off to the beltway again for the trip to Capitol KOA in Millerville MD, just 10 miles north of Annapolis.
Why a KOA you might ask? Well, the 'rate' at the reunion hotel was about 250$ a night, for 2 or 3 nights, and that plus the $ for tailgate and reception and the car would have put this well into the mille dolares, which is mucho more than I am willing to pay. So for 75$ and a little drive time I get a sweet little cabin in the woods. I did arrive after dark, and the office was closed, but they thoughtfully left a key and a note advising my cabin (Kabin, actually. How Kute) was K91 - just follow the map. Which I did -- to an empty spot. Hmmmm. K95, K94, K93...... and there it ended. I circled like a dog three or four times until finally a caretaker hopped off his golfcart and flagged me down. Seems they MOVED the last 3 cabins to a nicer location. Whew! Any more circling and I think I'da thrown up!
I moved my stuff (one suitcase and the sleeping bag) in and checked the window unit. Uh-oh. It's 45 degrees out and going down and all this is is an AC unit! Slept in my travel clothes (not as bad as it sounds) and was ok.
I'm really looking forward to tomorrow!

31Aug08 DFW-MIA-St Maarten-San Juan PR

2008-08-31T16:49:00.000-07:00

Just when you thought it was safe to take off your helmet......
I arrived home yesterday at 1600L (4pm local) and was called by Schedules for a 0500 sign-in to dead-head to Miami to work a flight MIA to St Maarten and on to San Juan PR to overnight, then dead-head back on the 1st.
So it was up at 0330, out the door at 0400 on the bike (R80ST) and on my way threading the needle (meteorologically speaking) between Hurricane Gustav and Tropical Depression Hanna.

My room in San Juan is at the Intercontinental Hotel, and the sign on the door says it can go for 2,850$. I wandered about to find out what was so special and came upon the pool and the beach.

It's a topless beach.

I have reservations for next month........

the entire month.

(no, no pictures.....)

30Aug08 Hinton, OK - Arlington, TX

2008-08-31T16:48:00.002-07:00

Ride home with Hal Partenheimer

29Aug08 Just stayed in place @ Hinton, OK

2008-08-31T16:48:00.001-07:00

29AUG08
My spot, although level, was not an approved campsite, so first thing I needed to do this morning was move.
Red Rock is a neat little State Park, originally used by the Plains Indians to escape the winter winds in Oklahoma. If you are not looking for it as you drive south on Rt 8 out of Hinton you will surely miss it as it cuts down into the earth and twists out of sight. It is like one of those rows in a corn field as you drive by at 70mph. If there are many rows the optical illusion is that you can look down the space between plants, but if there is only one row it is gone before your mind can register it was there.
As the name describes the rock on either side of the canyon is varied hues of red, and there is a nice little flowing stream at the bottom which allows for lush green grass and a little fishing pond. OK has also installed a regular swimming pool for the summer months along with a gee-dunk (Navy term for hot-dog/candy stand) run by local charities.
Hinton is an agricultural town, so traffic consists of pick-ups, tractors and tank trucks carrying either fuel or ominous looking liquids out to the farms. The local breakfast/lunch/dinner spot was inside the Philipps 66 station north of town. Out front were the gas/diesel pumps, inside to the left was the store with a little bit of everything and anything the feed/lumber next door didn't carry, and to the right was the coffee and grill area. In the middle of it all was ONE clerk, a young woman in her 20's who ran it all seamlessly and efficiently - even when the high school girls basketball team came in for their post practice brunch. She appeared unfazed by the volume of traffic, and, like a traffic cop, was clear in her instructions to keep things moving. There was no sense about her that she felt overworked or put upon to be at work, rather (and this is totally subjective on my part) that she was glad to have a job.
As in Great Falls, a couple of the tables were occupied by senior members of the community, whose skin gave witness to the power of the sun and elements in the area. These were the real deal farmers/ranchers whose cowboy hats were stained with salt and sweat, and with four to a table the brims about touched in the middle as they leaned in for conversation. Pure efficiency and no wasted movement. Only their eyes tracked the basketball players in their shorts and tank tops as they circled the cash-register.
I was to find out that due to circumstances beyond their control only one of my buds could make it up for the camp-out. Late in the afternoon Hal P. pulled into town on his R65LS, and after unloading his bags and baggage we went into town for pizza and a couple beers. On the way back we nearly cleared a well defined rain shower at the Park entrance, and on the advice of the Boy Scout Troop which had moved in next to us in our absence moved the tent yet again to higher ground.
Previously in my blog I've noted the different neighbors one can get in campgrounds. The bonfire building tree destroying country western loving beer drinking hell raisers, the domestic disturbing voice raising women and children crying families, and so on. But I think of them all the worst are the Troops of Boy or Girl Scouts and their 'adult' leadership; for while they are relatively quiet and relatively respectful, there is a continuous stream of questions and activities and periodic shouts attendant to the troopers, and always one, sometimes two of the adults who insist on engaging in unnecessarily lout conversations about their own personal saga, introduced and then disguised as the history of the area or of troop activities. They will pontificate and expound to any who will appear to listen, and to all who don't. It never stops. Because they are Scouts of America you feel a little guilty at hating them for it.
But you do.

28Aug08 Alliance, NE - Hinton, OK

2008-08-31T16:47:00.002-07:00

700 mile day

28 Aug 08
By morning the Bud and Cathi's dogs and I were on good terms, so I left a 10 in the doorway, coffeed up at the McStarbuck's and headed south. On through Nebraska, into Kansas and finally Oklahoma.
I hadn't planned on much sightseeing this day, so it worked out well that there weren't many sights to, ah, see. The G/S did turn over 50,000 miles, half of which were mine in the last 4 years.
This turned into a 700 mile ride from Alliance NE to Hinton OK. Didn't really mean to do it, but once I got rolling, there didn't seem much reason to stop.
I arrived at the Red Rock Canyon SP about 10pm, rolled through once or twice and then just threw down my tent on a level spot and cratered. Tomorrow I would recover and wait for my friend(s) to show up.

27Aug08 Hulet, WY - Alliance, NE

2008-08-31T16:47:00.001-07:00

26aug08
I'm sure that during the Stugis Rally the road noise and whatever was going on at the Feed Coop across the street gets drowned out by the hoohaa in the campground, but my tossing and turning didn't diminish it whatsoever. And I could hear the shotgun blasts at 1am even through my earplugs. Bear? Beer? Jealous lover?
Anyway, I tried for breakfast in camp and discovered that, yes, there IS an expiration date for instant oatmeal, so after a quick valve check (been 3000 since I left DFW) I headed down the road to Devil's Tower. The valve check sorta put me in the mind of what it takes to put a bike on the road for an extended period.
There is routine maintenance which is done at predictable intervals. Preventative maintenance, which is done when necessary to forestall more serious problems.
And then there are repairs, which obviously take place when something has failed.
Many riders do not consider themselves, nor want to be, mechanics. That's fine, and a personal decision. However, I think it prudent that we be maintainers of our machines, else become forced into becoming repairmen on a dark road in the middle of nowhere. Some foresight/forethought is necessary to have fresh oil, tune up or tires before a trip, or be learned enough to accomplish same along the way either personally or by appointment with a shop. I prefer to do it myself rather than be tied to a scheduled appointment in a particular location.
We also need, on longer trips, maintain the rider, as well as his ride. Proper hydration, proper nutrition (my weakness), proper rest (ok, another weakness), and even proper hygiene are all necessary to avoid emergency repairs. Sure we want to go, see, do; but it is also absolutely necessary to rest, eat properly, stop and drink fluids, and take care of washing and waxing, so to speak.
So, after taking care of the horse (as I taught Emily to say), it was off to Devil's Tower, a short distance away. In fact there were several very nice, probably quieter, probably more expensive, camping grounds en route, but, as I said, I needed to get off the road ASAP.
Devil's Tower was originally called Bear's Lodge by the locals (before the White Men came) and the legend was that 6 sisters and their brother were out in the woods when the boy turned into a bear and began to pursue the girls. The Great Spirit caused the earth to rise beneath the girls, lifting them to safety in the sky, while the bear clawed at the mound of stone. The girls are now the stars of Ursa Major (the Big Dipper) and the claw marks are the stress cracks in the rock. Actually geologists think it was a magma push that originally was buried underground, and the Belle Forche River eroded many cubic miles of dirt to expose it. When the magma cooled the stress was relieved by fractures into hexagonal (like bee hive) columns.
Lots of visitors, and all very friendly. One, Scott from VA, on a BMW R1200GS on his way to Alaska. Bit late in the season, isn't it? Yeah, but when the boss gives you a month off, you go. He was on his way to Billings for a valve check-up (maintenance, remember?).
Now back to some mileage to the south and east. Off to Newcastle WY for lunch at Subway (just a check in the block) where Phil, once I mentioned Mt Rushmore, put me onto Iron Mountain Road. I was heading to Custer on 16, and he told me just to continue east through Custer NP on 16A, then on the east side to take IMR north. He said I wouldn't regret it.
I didn't. It is one of the most spectacular roads I, ah, rode this trip.
Custer NP is a beautiful CCC park, with attendant log and stone structures, open fields, and wildlife including Buffalo. Several times traffic came to a stop either to look at them, or because a herd of one or two dozen was slowly crossing the roadway. Everywhere are signs reminding drivers that "Bison are dangerous, do not approach", so it was I was a bit apprehensive motoring around and between on the bike. Then came the 'pig tail' bridges - these roll around and back over themselves going up the hill toward Rushmore. Each is followed by a 10' wide by 13' high (one car) tunnel. From my direction I was treated to a framed view of the Presidents each time!
Mt Rushmore is everything the brochures and encyclopedias say
is and I was not embarrassed to be an unabashed tourist there. I also learned that point and shoot cameras are not as simple to operate as one might think. Several times I asked passers by (many with much larger and more complicated photography equipment dangling from their necks) if they would take a shot, assuming they could include both me and the faces of Rushmore in a level, focused picture. Nope. I had my head cut off, my feet cut off, stood at an angle, missed me entirely, and, oh, yeah, only 3 of the 4 presidents showing. Viewing the monument is free, parking is 10$ (I did hear 2 bikers work a deal about 10$ is for 4 wheels in one space and two bikes is..... 5$ each. If you really are touring on the cheap, you can find a parking spot around the corner (called Profile Pull-out because you can see Washington's, ah, Profile from there) and walk back!
Ok, now for some distance. I have a plan to meet one or more of my ridding buddies at a CG in Oklahoma, and I want to be there in time to get a good campsite. On down through Nebraska to the town of Alliance, along Rt 385 where I pull off to fill the 'dinner' square. The Mc'server says that there's an RV site along 385 just a mile further on, so I pass-up the Sunshine RV Park and Campground advertised on the billboard. This was a mistake. The RV site was where and as advertised, but it's proximity to the highway made for a noisy night. It was also squarely in the middle of a truck dispatch yard AND was Bud and Cathi's backyard moneymaker. They have dogs.
Earplugs.

26Aug08 Cut Bank, MT - Hulet, WY

2008-08-31T16:45:00.000-07:00

Waking I found I would be packing up between showers, so I waited for lulls to dash to the 'facilities' and back for my morning routine. I've packed up inside the tent before, but never panicked the tent itself in the wet. As a consequence the fly got grass and dirt on it. I think I'd have been better served to take it into the facilities house and at least fold it/pack it there. I should have realized from it's location that Cut Bank is the home for many of the workers in the Glacier Park system, so traffic was pretty heavy beginning about 0500. Town is a 1950's Rte 66 kind of place with advertising and the 'camp' motels and diners. Despite the rainclouds it was a beautiful morning with patches of sunlight on the prairie grass. I was traveling down some of the same roads I'd ridden earlier in the summer, and recalled seeing Belt MT with it's very own Belt Creek Brewery. An interesting place, I'm sure. And I'm sure some would wonder whether I stopped in, and if not, why not? Well I didn't, and though I can't really explain why (when will I have the opportunity again?), it really doesn't matter. If you want to know, then you stop by. I was ridding my ride, and I did it my way, thankyouverymuch, stopping when it suited me, riding when it suited me, etc. Big rain clouds all about, but the liquid stuff was missing me. Mostly. But not the wind. Geez.

Stopped for coffee and breakfast muffin at Great Falls, along with the coffee clatch of retired AF geezers. About 4 separate tables, all talking about a) glory days or b) children. There's an F102 Delta Dart Popsicle right next to the Hardees. On through Billings, where I spent way, way too long at a convenience store - first to get coffee, then to jettison it. Did have a nice repartee with the clerk when she caught me doing a strip-tease in the parkinglot. Next was the Little Big Horn Battlefield National Monument, though I arrived 30 minutes after the last tour ended. I hadn't boned up on the history of the battle (though I did hear the final score was lopsided), so it wasn't as meaningful as it could have been. There is, however, a certain sense of reverence to the white markers, row upon row, for anyone who has served in the military. At the top of one rise is a large monument, denoting the spot where BGen Custer made his last stand, behind the carcasses of his horses. From there you can see scattered about the battlefield white and red markers where the bodies of soldiers and native americans were found. Interesting, and of significance to me was the fact that nearly every white (soldier) marker was paired to another or small group, while the red (American Indian) markers were frequently singularly placed. Consider standing back to back with your best friend knowing you were never going to leave that place. It was also significant that the Lakota Chiefs spoke in eloquence about protecting their way of life against aggression, not about conquering or defeating the white man. Their spirituality would be apparent again.

Pressed on MT212 to 24 to Hulet WY. Too far into the dusk and night. There were deer everywhere, it seemed, and I got the heebee geebee's (wonder where that expression came from) thinking about the consequences of a highspeed encounter. Finally at Hulet I lucked into the Screaming Eagle CG, which, although totally lovely with trees and thick soft grass, with two facility houses, was totally empty. Sign said OPEN, so I parked it and called it a night. I also called the number on the door, and in minutes Ms Victoria Bush showed up with extra toilet paper and gave me the grand tour. Her car, by the way, showed the results of an aforementioned encounter with Bambi. She was so happy to have a camper she let me pet one of her chihuahuas. 10$ for the night. Even with both of us and the dogs present deer were wandering right through as if they owned the place.

25Aug08 Arlington, TX - Calgary, AB - Cut Bank, MT

2008-08-31T16:36:00.000-07:00

"Cleanly out of the gate" is an expression more suited to giant slalom or horse racing than motorcycle touring. At least in my case. Before I leave on my 4000 mile + trip (which I've planned for over a month) I need to help get the kids out to the first day of school, RSVP-ing to my niece's wedding, getting to an ATM, finding my GPS; all have to be accomplished before my 0830 departure to the airport (and, yes, all were known about and coulda shoulda been accomplished well before this day). And don't forget the airport parking pass.... I'll need to shampoo the walkway I put in the carpet going in/out getting ready to leave. Again, by allowing time these little hitches are irritating, but not panic inducing. The plan (and from past experience we know how that can go) is: Monday - DFW to YYC, get bike, close storage, ride to border, pick up stashed treasure, head as far towards Great Falls MT as possible. Tuesday - move towards Mt Rushmore. Wednesday - head towards Colorado. Thursday - Colorado to Wichita KS. Friday - Wichita to Red Rock Canyon Hinton OK. Saturday - Hinton OK to Arlington TX (home). Reality for day one went pretty close to plan. Got to the airport in plenty of time for the flight to Calgary, cabbed to Sentenal Storage and closed account there. The owners, Cheryl and her husband, are both bikers and had just gotten back from a 2 week trip thru the NW US. Their stand-in was effective enough as a seat filler - albeit squarefaced and humorless. She had the personality and charm of a brick with fingers.

The wind was the big story of the day. I was watching a cloudbank to the west over the Rockies and the rainfall and descent down the mountains accellerated the 'breeze' well into the 30+mph range and C O L D. I was in RideCon1 (liner and FroggToggs) and still shivering! Really hope to make the turn east at Glacier US before the rain comes! Passed "Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump" and the town of Nantona, which boasted an AirMuseum (don't know the connection) showing two pilot Popsicles (plane on a stick) of Voodoo and Sabre and a Lancaster! Wonder what the 'hole cards' were? Made the border cold by dry, and raised the immigration agent's eyebrow when I passed my, ah, passport complete with 100$ emergency cash included. He just looked at me and passed it back. Next evolution was to find the buried treasure I'd left by the roadside a month ago. There are things that a protective father wants to have when traveling with his 16 year old daughter in the back roads and back country which the Canadian authorities do not allow into their country, licensed though it may be. While it may seem less than secure to simply bury it at the foot of a tree 125yds off the roadway and cover with rocks, I can assure you, there are treasures buried much less covertly which have never been found! Ask any true treasure hunter! Anyway, I new my marks (Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island is a great read...) and found it straight away.

Got into Cut Bank MT at dusk, put the check in the block of nourishment at the McDonalds there, and then the rain finally caught up with me. Fortunately there was an 'in town' RV ground right across the street, and when I pulled up Mike, the operator, directed me to a rocky looking site that would both allow me to dodge the wind and stake down properly. It was rather like a rock hand with the fingers pointing up and the site in it's palm. Way cool. I slept to the patter of rain and sounds (but not effects) of wind.

13AUG08 Canmore Canada to Arlington, TX

2008-08-31T16:35:00.000-07:00

Spacer - just saving a slot...... more later

12AUG08 Waterfowl Lake CG, Banff NP, AB - Canmore, AB, Canada

2008-08-22T18:34:00.001-07:00

Really slow start today...Cold last night as things (finally) cleared. Campfires are permitted (for an additional 9$), but being near the woodpile we heard mucho chopping (Geez, are they building a house, or WHAT?) and the neighbors had a Kleig lite on 'till 0100.

37 degrees at 0430. Got up about 0830 for pictures of the cliffs and water, chatted with a recumbent bicycle rider from the Netherlands who started in Atlanta freaking Georgia. Lots of common ground, then he lit into Bush. Not with a vengeance, but certainly with conviction. Sad to be on the unpopular side of the lines. Anyway, he'll finish in Jasper and then train to Toronto to exit - his US visa expired and he couldn't get an extension! He and his daughter, now married, had comparable travels when she was young, and just before her marriage.
Em up around 0930, finally out of the CG at 1030. Rode back to Lake Louis for lunch - a picnic by the side of the road nearly attacked by some ground squirrels! Tried to get to a hike near Field BC, but foiled by an inaccurate wall painting map in the deli. Neat little town though, and more awesome scenery. Continued back to Canmore stopping 'only' for photos. Nice to be 'home' (second night qualifies) for a hot shower. I thought EM was gonna cry she was so happy. Must admit, it felt pretty good to be clean and warm. Even shaved.
Set up the tent and left Em to read Grapes of Wrath for school while I checked out a road I'd found on a map in McD's. Wow! Just Wow! Finally some dirt/gravel (they really don't like or encourage motorized vehicles off road in these NP's). This looks to be paved soon, as it is graded and packed, with some washboards and chuck holes to hold your attention. Late sun was wonderful on the rocks, and, oh, the lakes! Saw mountain goats and deer, and took gobs and gobs of photos and video.
Here's a question: How fast do you ride through paradise?
I enjoyed going 'quickly' (which, of course, is a relative term), but was continually stopping and even going back for photos or a look. Beyond belief, beyond scale. Still the teal blue glacial runoff water, but some clearer places. Saw fish rising and men with poles, so there's that as well. I'd say Canmore is a stop on it's own!
So now the only real worry is getting Em (and me) on the plane. Should be a good nite's sleep, and a warm shower in the AM to get us moving by 0700 and out by 0800 to 0830 and in cue by 1030 for the 1430 flight. If not that one, we'll have to sniff out an alternate. If we make it on the flight this'll have been a bang up holiday!

11AUG08 Waterfowl Lake, Banff NP, AB Canada

2008-08-22T18:33:00.001-07:00

Drizzly morning, I was fairly cold last night, though thermometer says 45 or so at lowest point. Hope Emily did ok; that's always my thought - hope Em's doing OK, and maybe enjoying this a little. Finally let up enough to rise about 0830. Had to head north to Sascatchewan Crossing in RideCon1 (that's liner, mesh gear AND Frogg Toggs). A little for the wet, mostly for the cold. Prices were way high! Breakfast bagels 7$ each, coffee and watery hot chocolate 3$ for 23$ for two! AND GAS!!!! Up to the Ice Fields. The scale of this scenery is difficult to grasp. Rockface cliffs from valley floor literally into the clouds. Moran piles everywhere and all the water is teal with rock flour.
Continued on to the Colombian Ice Field Exhibit. VERY nice, food and bathroom and lodging (no gas) and tours were only 36$ each! A bargain! Bus to the edge of the glacier run, then an ice-cat onto the t glacier. Steep 36% grade down, then up to the ice falls. Beautiful aqua colour, and the water melt tastes pure - like Evian! Lots of Photos. Lunch was 8$ for coffee and pizza, and em's was "free" (the cashier had walked away and there was no one to hand money). Checked internet (2$ for 15min) for flight info (RED, of course). No way to make the 0700, but will definitely be there 4 hours early (1430-400=1030) to sign in for the 1430 flite. Must leave Canmore by 0830.

Lots of people in hiking togs. Kinda disappointed not to do much (any) - the Johnson Canyon Falls walk aside. It's not Em's thing and getting here in/out/in riding kit is too much of a hassle. There'll always be a hike I didn't do, or a road I haven't ridden - that shouldn't take one step or one rpm from those that I have! We've given it a good go, as best we could. Again, no complaints, no whining, just an adventurous heart. After lunch we cruised back to camp (how nice not to have to find a campground, select a site, unload and set up) taking photos and, hopefully, awesome video. We're having an impromptu undeclared photographic competition, and I'm enjoying it mucho! She's way into macro right not. I remember that phase - and zoom! I remember wondering what the point was in anything under 135mm! Of course, she won't have to pay to develop 100's of shots like I did (or did my dad pay?). There's also no waiting (instant gratification) and instant feedback on quality. Now we're waiting for nightfall - she's reading school assignment (Grapes of Wrath) and I'm catching up on this journal.

10AUG08 Canmore, AB - Waterfowl Lake CG, Banff NP, Canada

2008-08-22T18:31:00.000-07:00

49 last night and nearly comfortable. As expected, traffic into the National Park quieted down quickly after dark. Wind-y road, wildlife, etc. I let Em sleep a bit and went to McD's for Breakfast. Saw a Harley Davidson on a trailer behind a pick-up, and asked a family guy inside if it was his. Yes (along with the 2 small boys; one on mommy's 30-something year old breast the whole time). She, it turns out, did time in Beeville TX (my wife's hometown of 15,000 in South Texas) ten years ago as a nurse. Small world. Em up and at it while I pack up. Lots of moisture, but with two of us we flicked the fly dry in no time. On the road by 0930. 30$ to ride the parks for 3 days.
Ok Need: fuel line, knife (hatchet for camping?), 6" or so Philips screwdriver, water 'jug', ditch the Soviet silverware. Tent set up getting better each time - need longer nails (spikes) and a couple more aluminum stakes for top. Pillow still an issue - maybe just a pillowcase to stuff?

Walked up to Johnson Canyon Falls. Em wearing lots of leg stuff - pants, mesh, AND toggs - couldn't bend over far enough to take off boots to take off mesh/toggs. Lots of Orientals, lots of kids (and strollers) and lots of dogs (on leashes). Not much trail etiquette. The strollers were double-wide on a single lane trail, and the dogs, being dogs, just couldn't decide which tree needed attention. Some older (British, I think) women came down in hiking kit complaining of it all. I interjected that the discussion could continue at my campfire that evening over a glass of Scotch. They laughed. One fat old photographer got out on the viewing platform for upper falls and spent as much time as he wanted adjusting his camera and taking snap after snap to get the shot he thought he deserved - never mind the line-up behind him.

. Lake Louise is both a body of water and a tourist village in the park. Stunning, just like the photo's, and full of folks walking about taking pictures, but Em didn't want to walk to the far end and back. Fair enough. Weather was peek-a-boo the whole day.

Next was Moraine Lake, with beautiful coloring. The Teal coming from the suspended rock flour created by the grinding glacier, suspended in the water and lit up by the sunlight. Juxtaposed with the white snow and unbelievably high/shear rock cliffs it was an awesome scene.

We pressed well into evening, then came upon Waterfowl CG. I let em pick the site (#27) and set up, then, since we were betwixt and between places, back to Num-Ti-Jah Lodge cafe for dinner (http://www.num-ti-jah.com/home.html). Well, the cafe turned out to be a full blown restaurant, with a 'sitting' at 6pm. Oh! That means $$$ (like 100 for 2). Very nice setting, sitting, ambiance, whatever, and I was proud of Emily's demeanor, but she wasn't too impressed with the salmon on weird, I mean, wild, rice, though I found my Elk steak delicious - both bites (a bit small portion for a Texan). Lots of talk over dinner about past, present, future, family, boyfriend, school etc.

I've got a young woman on my hands.

09AUG08 Arlington, TX, USA - Canmore, AB, Canada

2008-08-22T18:30:00.000-07:00

Seems like there's always something when you are trying to get to the airport. This time it was last minute copies of music for Emily to memorize, but out by 0840 for a 1040 flight, and a good trip to the airport. Separate seats, but in eyeshot. I tried to sleep, but instead was leaned over the whole way and got a neck cramp. Wound up with a headache the rest of the day.

26$ Cabride to storage, and then on the road by 1500L and into Canmore ahead of the rain. We actually went to the lower entrance of the park and turned around, as the weather was closing. Set-up camp and then headed into town for a look-see and maybe dinner. Wound up 'stuck' in a chocolate shop for 20 minutes of downpour. That hurt (yeah, right).

McD's for dinner (just across the street from the campground) and met a Goldwing driver from CA. Emily suddenly into French (un, deu, trois, etc), and very interested in the common area barn, magazines, migrant workers from (you guessed it) French Canada (Quebec/Montreal). We played several games of backgammon, and then hit the hay. 20$ for 2 (15$ for one tent, one person).

Long Ride, Short Flight

2008-07-22T07:27:00.000-07:00

7/19/08 Calgary, AB, Canada - DFW, TX

Early alarm (damn TV!) today to make sure I get to Calgary in time to take care of business and still make the 2:40 flight. Morning clerk rather disinterested in the whole thing, would rather play internet gaming than talk to a traveler. Finishing my ride thru town I note several more savory lodging options - at the same price. But the morning is crisp and clear, and I'm wearing just the right number of layers to be happy. And happy I am. Something about morning sun, cool temps, a sweetly running bike and uncrowded roads. The landscape stays wide open all the way into Calgary, where it congests slightly, reminiscent of Colorado Springs in layout, including the by-pass to the airport.
Sentinal Storage has a spot for me, and Shirley and her husband (managers) are bikers as well so there's an understanding and friendliness. Cab is 21$ and I'm standing in cue 3 hours before the flight. Seem like a waste of time? Not really. First off, I'm all relaxed and unhurried - so my temperament is one of amusement and humor. Secondly, I have time to take in the surroundings and the people - most of whom are returning from a wonderful vacation in the Rockies and are happy to share their experiences.
I struck up conversations with several folks in the gate area: a couple from Keller on their 45th anniversary, a tour guide from Indiana, and another couple from Tyler. I kept saying we needed a campfire and bottle of Scotch, because our topics ranged from travel suggestions to philosophical discussions of exactly what makes these mountains, this road, different from those mountains, that road.
Trying to squeeze out the single drop of difference, I suggested that perhaps there wasn't a difference in those things, but rather in our attitudes, observations, and willingness to open up to new experiences. Do you ever talk like this in line at Kroger, I asked? Good point.
A true challenge would be to keep the same vacation attitude after arriving in 100degree heat back home on the congested highways of the MetroMess.

Now it's time to think about the NEXT leg of this summer odyssey - bringing Emily back up for a few days in Banff and the Canadian Glacier Park!

Glacier Park

2008-07-22T06:01:00.000-07:00

7/18/08 Two Medicine CG Glacier Park, MT

Slept better and longer than anticipated. 50degrees and no banging, no cars. Was up and out by 0800, stopping by the Ranger station for information before the end run to the south of the park. East Glacier is a small town, lots of Indian references, and a beaut of an old style lodge. Rt 2 less dramatic than expected from maps.google, but a pleasant, scenic high speed transit to West Glacier. Not much there either, just a motel, convenience store and train station. Re entering the park you are at a low (3000') elevation, in heavy pines, on a heavily traveled road with CG's left and right and a large body of water. From there the road heads upward to Logan Pass and becomes Going to the Sun, climbing about 4000' in the process! Wonderful old style CCC road not designed for speed but for spectating and to enable the adventurous folk of the late 30's to drive over the pass.

Logan Pass Exhibit is a must do, and, if possible, the 4 mile hike across the snow field to Hidden Lake. Then it's downhill to St Mary, the road full of look outs and tunnels. From there it's a quick run up to Many Glacier Park and a slow drive in (good, accurate signs for bumps, rough road and recommended speeds in turns). The lodge at Lake Sherborn is travel magazine stuff, including a moose cow feeding in the shallows. Utilizing modern tracking techniques, I found two grizzly bears in a field alongside the road (you look for a BUNCH of parked cars and you'll find wildlife nearby).

After Glacier NP a short run up Rt 2 left me at the entrance to Many Glacier NP, beginning with another lovely lake. I really had no idea there was so much water involved! Much of it was fishable or boatable, all of it enjoyable. Many Glacier has the quintessential Lodge, complete with feeding moose cow and a pair of Grizzly's. I recall it as a more managable sized park, with many trails and scenes.

Exited the park and took 17 up to the boarder, where the customs agent instructed me (not asked, instructed) to remove my helmet and sunglasses (so he could get a better look at me as I answered the questions). No big. Then very open and rolling countryside back to the east and RT 2 north toward Calgary. Pretty much since turning north I had been watching a large thunderhead, and just south of Ft McLeod it became apparent I was going to see it much closer than I'd like. Gusty winds, wall of rain, lightning are all undesirable on a bike, so I retreated to a small farmhouse I'd seen 2 miles back and asked the owner, who had just stored his cars in the barn against possible hail, if I could put my bike under one of his cab-over trailers. He was very friendly and sent me in back to a cow shed or stable, where I waited 45 minutes or so with the rafters shaking and dirt blowing up but little rain. Finally it all stopped and cleared enough to proceed, and when I stopped at the house to say thanks they said Lethbridge (just east) had gotten hail and damaging winds and several lightning strikes. Thanks!

Continued along Rt 2, noting many campgrounds and a few motels, until I needed gas - right across from the Lazy J Motel. It was late, I was tired, there was still rain ahead, and I decided I was within striking distance for Calgary tomorrow, so I threw in the towel. Michael, the clerk, was interested in the trip, and gave me a discount on the 75$(!) room. I pulled the bike in under the eaves and took off all but the tank panniers before walking next door to the pizza shop. The girls were all a-giggle when I ordered a "pie". Again cell phone coverage was available, so contact was made with all the folks at home.

Sitting in my room eating, I heard a muffled comment about BMW's, but by the time I got to the door whomever it was was gone - with one of my gloves out of the pannier! They'd also knocked over many of the potted decorative plants at the motel. Maybe proximity to a pizza shop/bar wasn't so good after all. Found the glove at the far end of the motel, took all of it into the room for the night.
Finally tapped out at 1130, pretty late for this traveler.

Sir?

2008-07-21T15:10:00.000-07:00

After our enjoyable dinner, I had little trouble falling asleep. Remember, 24 hours previously I had flown from Miami to San Francisco, deadheaded back to DFW, slept in my camper, non-reved up to Jackson, and ridden 150 miles through Yellowstone NP. 10oz of Medium Well Buffalo and a beer didn't hurt either. So imagine my chagrin when at 0400 a truck rattling over the gravel camp road in front of my tent woke me up. And again at 0600, this time accompanied with a voice: "Sir, hummmruph, packing, wubbah, campground, bladdah, bear."
Bear?
Say again your last, over?
"Sir, we think you ought to start packing and leave the campground, we have a bear in the vicinity." Oh. Now c'mon, what's to worry? I have no food in my tent (the dehydrated stuff, one Cliff Bar and my shaving kit are in the "bear-proof" locker) and there are lot's of more interesting campsites around. But I poke my head out and talk to my neighbor, who is debating the same issues. This time when the truck comes by we get a clearer picture from the passenger. Seems he was sharing the campsite with his traveling buddy (on their way to the BMW rally in Gillette WY) when at 4 he awoke to his friend's screams as a Grizzley Bear broke through his tent and took his wrist in his mouth to shake him loose. Yikes! and said bear was still down in the creek less than 50 yards from our site. Expeditious relocation is what we called it when we regathered in town a few minutes later for coffee at the Elk Lodge. No, not men in funny hats, ELK like four legged kind. The proprietress was also the town medic/emt and had shipped the poor victim off to Casper for surgery on his mauled arms and wrist. "Looked pretty bad" was her assessment. "Guess they're done with the rally". My opinion differed, and I bet her a doughnut the uninjured rider would continue on. Powder coated and delicious, thank you. I know my riders. Now it was the newly formed trio of Kristin, Dave and Randy's turn to head up the road to Beartooth Pass and breakfast in Red Lodge. Can't say enough about the road and the ride and the riders. MT212 is an awesome motorcycling road - clean and smooth, with fabulous views and plenty of pull-outs from which to gaze. Like the bugs, all the motorcyclists in this area take advantage of good weather to get out, and there was a constant stream of traffic coming down the mountain as we went up, and lots of folks with whom to chat at the summit - including my two acquaintances from OK on their Harleys. Breakfast at the Red Lodge Cafe was wonderful, the short stack being more than I could finish, though Kristin and Dave had no trouble devouring their eggs and sausage. We all coffee'd up and then I headed in a more northerly direction toward Glacier, while they proceeded to Gillette with instructions to find the Texas contingent for hospitality. Just before we left the cafe the OK riders appeared again, so a proper "stay safe and enjoy it" was spread around.

I had a long way to go, and it's a good thing being alone doesn't bother me, 'cause for most of the way it was the road, the prairie grass, and me. You can get a little jittery at first, but when the bike doesn't just quit and no critters jump out to wreck you, after a while you notice that you're feeling pretty good and can look around and appreciate what it takes to live up here one barb-wire fence from Canada. Out of Red Lodge I took 78 thru Roscoe and Abserkotee - it's a sweet 2 laner - to Columbus on I-40 to fill up. There another rider suggested 191N to Hobson and 87 into Great Falls, figguring I'd stop there (check a map, it's a ways).

Got through (Not so) Great Falls around dinner time; finally got cell-phone coverage to let folks at home know that IF they heard about a bear attack it wasn't me and dined with the King - Burger King. Afterwards I pressed on out 89 up to Glacier Park. Again and again long stretches of empty plains, no traffic and a true feeling of being alone. Also several large bodies of water. At Browning I decided to head to Kiowa and Two Medicine CG. Browning is a very Indian town, in the Blackfoot Reservation, and the Casino is the big game. Art galleries and Indian craft stores are just the minor leagues. Rt49 south from Kiowa to the camp ground is a twisty motorcycling treat, but it's late in the day for true enjoyment. 25$ (!) entry fee into Glacier and another 7 miles to the 20$ campsite at 2 Medicine, but it's a beautiful lakeside area. Nearly full, but one spot remained - between the trash cans and the toilets. Bill, a Goldwing rider out of Michigan, waved me in to share his site if necessary, but I found my little shangrila and set up there. Took an evening stroll to stretch my legs and check out the rigs and people. Lots of smokey campfires to hold the bugs at bay. Fish rising in the lake, and fishermen laying out line. Many canoes/kayaks, several small motorboats. A good (long) day's run of 480 miles.

Plan B

2008-07-21T12:26:00.000-07:00

Plan worked pretty well. I arrived at the DFW airport at 0100 on the 16th, slept in the Employee Parking lot in my 1977 VW camper, and was up in line at security later that same morning at 0800 for the 0940 flight to Jackson, WY. Noting the initial line-up was a long one, I headed to a secondary screening area just around the corner. Two gentlemen exited the line and followed, explaining that while waiting in airports they keep an eye out for 'seasoned' looking travelers, and then follow them. Interesting; sort of a modern wilderness tracker. Sure enough the new line was expeditious until they x-rayed an 8 inch 12 point 10/12mm box-end wrench I wanted to take along. Seems the TSA limit on 'tools' is 7 inches. So what's a fellow to do? Well I exited the airport, found some heavy ground cover near the employee bus stop, and buried the wrench out of sight. Will it still be there when I return? 31$ question.

Got a seat on the jet straight away for another nap en route Wyoming, disturbed only by the tittering of a gaggle of unaccompanied 12-16 year old girls on their way to camp. Evidently the uniform for travel was flip-flops, t-shirt and shorts. Not enough material between all of them for one decent pair of blue-jeans!

Found a share-a-ride van with a friendly driver to take a 25$ ride thru town to the storage area (check what it cost me to get FROM the unit TO the airport), where the bike was waiting patiently. Quick change and short elevator ride to ground level and we're on our way through town to pick up my pocket knife from Josh. Who, it appears, has been 'let go' from the motel desk, taking any knowledge of my pocket knife with him. Oh, well.

I passed on the Teton Park road, having already done it with Emily when the views were clear, and rolled directly to the Yellowstone entrance and my 20$ ride-thru pass. A little bit of construction held us up but provided an opportunity to meet two HD riders from Oklahoma, they and I and the flagperson (girl) chatted waiting for the pilot car, and then pressed on along the eastern side of the lower Yellowstone loop. Along the way I wandered through endless lodgepole pines, several lakes, a few buffalo and a nice uncrowded geyser called Mud Volcano and Dragon Mouth Cavern. Pretty self-descriptive.

There are basically two loops in Yellowstone, attached one north of the other, and four entrances to the NE, NW, SE and SW. Roughly. To avoid the geysers (double entendre there, I do mean gushing geysers as well as the older geezers who slow-down and stop on the road to watch them) I opted to stay to the east side of both loops, and camp at the NE corner of the park at Slough Creek Park.

Which was full by the time I got there. However, a friendly biker pointed me further east to campsites outside the park, and the first one I came to - Cooke City - was open and only 9$, so there I pitched my tent. Shortly afterwards two riders on K1200R and S BMW's pulled into a site just above mine and dismounted. One did the 'happy dance', and that was all it took to encourage me to amble up and say hey. I met Kristin Ackerson and Dave Wilson of Albuquerque NM, 3 month's pregnant and 4 days married on their honeymoon! Well, how about that. We celebrated with a Buffalo Steak dinner in town, comforting ourselves that we wouldn't be cooking in the campsite in bear country.

What, me worry?

O.B.E.

2008-07-21T12:22:00.000-07:00

O.B.E.

Anyone trained in the military will understand those three letters mean Overcome By Events. That means that a plan you had was rendered useless by events outside your control. It also pretty nearly describes this leg (Jackson WY to Calgary Canada) of the trip.

Without getting too deeply into the reserve (or 'on call') system for pilots at American Airlines, let me just say that I had 4 days off, beginning on the 16th of July, but the first one was 'movable' at the discretion of the company. I had been awarded international division requiring training, which was scheduled for the 20th, beginning at 1245. So a plan developed to ride from the 16th to the 19th, ending in Calgary, and flying out first thing on the 20th to arrive in DFW at 1135, drive down to the Flight Academy (it's on the way home) for my school, and have someone pick up Emily. Best part would be that since I was heading to training, I could get a priority seat without worrying about non-reving. Then my call out schedule became such that I was off duty starting at 0100 on the 15th, so I figured we could even leave that morning at 0900 allowing yet another day on the road. Five days to move the bike 875miles.

My Plan.

And then events began to take over.

First, Emily reasoned that she didn't really want to ride that whole way, considering that the next bit (from Calgary to Lake Louise) would only mean an hour on the back of the bike and her boyfriend, Roy, had a single vehicle, non-injury accident totalling his car.
So she was out.

Then Crew Skeds called at 1630 (that's 4:30pm) on the 14th sending me out on a 2+ day trip getting back at 0100 (yes, that's one o'clock in the morning) on the 16th and not only denying me the early go on the 15th, but pushing my 'movable' day back to the 22nd leaving me on call for the rest of the 16th!

O.B.E.

Presently I'm at 35,000 returning to DFW on a Super 80, as a passenger, and my plan has become this: After checking that there are no open flights on the 16th to which I could be assigned, and that I do not have a reserve assignment period, I will head to the employee parking lot to sleep the remainder of the evening in Burt the VW Bus. Tomorrow (the 16th) I'll rise and dress in my traveling clothes (yup, brought 'em along when I left) and get on said 0900 flight from DFW to JAC as a D-2 THRU (a little higher priority, thanks to my coming in from San Francisco) and start my ride. Solo. Depending on the weather I may head up thru Yellowstone NP to the northeast, Beartooth Pass, and a town called Red Lodge, or I may head due west, then north on the interstate to Butte and save a few hours en route Glacier NP.

If things work out for a 2pm Saturday flight from YYC (Calgary) to DFW (ah, DFW) flight, fine. If not, I'll park the bike, hit a motel, and take my positive space ride home for training.

And so it goes.

Just another Non-Rev

2008-07-06T18:32:00.000-07:00

6/21/08 Jackson Wy to Dallas-Ft Worth

On our final day of this segment, all we had to do was get to the airport and get on the airplane. Neither of which was a sure thing. Getting to the airport was going to be hampered by finite funds due to an inoperative ATM card. It seems (from information gained later) that when I replaced my 'soon to expire' card with a new one in preparation for this trip, it had somehow become attached to my wife's house account, rather than the checking account (somewhat larger), and so with an initial withdrawal and gas money along the way I had drawn it down to Zero! The cab driver was understanding, but not amused that I had enough for fare (30$) but only a 10% tip. As noted, the cost of living has skyrocketed here. But we did get to the airport.

I'm getting just a tad ahead of myself, though. Again, the time change made getting up fairly easy, and packing the night before allowed me to shower, dress, and vacate the room to allow my (say it with me) 16 year old daughter to shower, dress and prep in peace. I wandered into the office to coffee-up with Josh, the clerk, and a couple of guys who'd been climbing on the Tetons for the past 3 days. Pretty typical Americans: one from Brussels originally, one from India, both living in Cincinnati OH and working for Proctor and Gamble. Accents? You bet. Neat guys though. Josh was from OH as well, which is another social point of the area. As the locals have been forced out, the business owners (most corporate) bring in labor from around and outside the country for basically room and board and a little folding money each day. When my ATM card failed, I went to a store to ask for the nearest bank. In an accent I can't duplicate (but sounded like Andy Kaufman's 'Latka'), I was told by 2 separate clerk's that they'd only been in town two days and didn't know where anything was. So much for local color and lore.

Despite my best efforts, I did wind up with one minor crisis on departure day: a pocket knife. Oh, no big deal, really - but you cannot take it with you on the plane (duh), I didn't want to check a bag (15$), and I'm kinda partial to the things I carry in my pocket and the thought of just throwing/giving it away hurt a little. So I entrusted it to Josh for a month, and hope it will be there when I return. Option B was to hide it atop a wall, in a chink, or bury it in a plastic bag 10 paces due north of the old clock. I mention this because if someone were to follow my example of ride, stash, fly vacationing this accounting of valuable but unflyable items becomes important; particularly if the are of the 'special licensing required' kind. Forget something in that category and you'll have some serious improvisation to accomplish before the metal detector.

The flight leaves at 11:50. The flight - SINGULAR. There is one non-stop a day on American between JAC and DFW. Miss that and you have a 30$ cab ride back to town to hunt for another 100$ room. Or make other plans. There is a Chicago flight leaving at 11:30, so if it looks like the DFW flight is full you can go through ORD and then cue up with the other 1,000 non-rev's to get to Dallas. Fortunately for us, not so for the other passengers, the ORD flight was delayed until after DFW, so if we didn't get on the preferred we could still make the other. We got to the airport about 3 hours prior, and had time to smile and converse with the agent before the crush, and search through our pockets for change enough to get pancakes, coffee, and milk for breakfast.

Departure time came and we had seats across the aisle from one another, and nice nap on the way home.

Now all we have to do is work out JAC to YYC (Jackson WY to Calgary AB Canada)!!

Take care of your Horse

2008-07-02T06:33:00.000-07:00

6/20/08 Spalding Bay, Jenny Lake, Teton NP, ,WY

A campsite at the end of a dirt road, at the edge of a lake, sounds wonderful - and it is. Until about 0530 when the local fishermen begin arriving in their pick-ups dragging their boats to the ramp. S'ok - after seeing 34degrees on my thermometer/watch I didn't go back to deep sleep, I just kept wondering how Emily was doing. She didn't sleep well either, but it wasn't because she was wondering about me.

We finally accepted the fact that the day had begun, and got up around 0700. Morning light was absolutely beautiful, spotlighting that which had been backlit and bringing out indescribable colors in everything. And, as yet, no bugs. Not having a breakfast strategy, and wanting to view as much of the park as possible, camp was struck and the bike kicked into life (there's another passing expression - kicking a bike to life. It's all on the battery, and God help you if it fails) for the trip up the dirt road. Aside from the beauty of said road itself, lined by tall pines and fragrant sagebrush, we had tantalizing glimpses of the Tetons through the breaks in the trees, and the anticipation of wildlife (only one LARGE deer so far).

The main N/S road was empty at this hour, so we traveled at our own pace back to Signal Mountain Lookout for a vista of the area. Yesterday's toll was still heavy on Em, as evidenced by the noises she made getting on/off the bike, and her reluctance to even take the helmet off, but again she suffered Dad's enthusiasm and even smiled for the camera. Once.

Things perked up a bit when we stopped at the Jenny Lake lodge for a sticky doughnut in an unusual shape, and got recommendations for food in town. I was unable to talk Em into an hour's hike to Hidden Falls and unwilling to press the issue (recall that the objectives for this ride are: Time with Daughter, Move the Bike, See the area), so into town we went to arrange hotel for us and storage for the bike. Once those were accomplished I promised Em we could just walk around the square for the rest of the day.

My hopes for a hostel were crushed as it was full, and the next alternative was a 99$ 10x10 room (King of the Road? NOT), or, as Em put it: Half the room for twice the price. I let her off to explore and eat, and then began to search through my list of storage units to care for the bike. As in many newly 'discovered' tourist towns, the local populace and all their businesses are being pushed out of town center by developers and outrageous property values. Try to find a real hardware store, for example. Orvis, Pendleton, YES. Ace, Plumbers Supply, NO. At least not in town. The real 'folk' have moved 30 miles away, taking such things (and storage) with them. Of the 3 U-Store-It's I'd googled, all were closed, and the only storage left was 5 miles south of town - climate controlled 2 story and 145$ per month! Well, I spent most of my afternoon tracking down and procuring a spot for the bike (horse), then separating the "leave-its" from the "take-its" before locking up the bike and taking my 20$ cab ride back into town (which is still, I found out the next day, 30$ from the airport!!).
When I got back Emily was taking a nap, and it seemed like a pretty good idea. An hour or so later we wandered around as she showed me the various shops she'd perused, and visited an animal adoption store. They find the animals abandoned in the area, tend to them, then walk them around with little jackets saying "available for adoption". Good idea. Dinner was at a deli where my 7$ Italian Hoagie weighed (no fooling) 2 pounds!!! Then back into town to get some money for the ride to the airport.
Uh-oh. ATM card no workee. Hmmmm. A quick call to MG and it's a mystery unsolved. There was money IN the account, and she'd added to it that day, so WHY can I not get it? Scramble time. Tank bag, pockets, duffel, etc, and we come up with about 40$. It'll have to do.
Good night's sleep and tomorrow we head home.

Photos

2008-06-29T19:30:00.000-07:00

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'......

2008-06-29T18:55:00.001-07:00

06/19/08
With the hour's time difference, getting up at 0700 was ez to do. Shower and pack, and roll down the road...... one block to "The Grounds" coffee-shop for breakfast croissant, internet fix, and (duh) coffee. Then on down to I-80 West to Rawlings WY.

Interstate is Interstate, even when there are mountains in the distance, and northern plains all about you. Try not to get killed, that's my motto. One highlight was passing through Sinclair WY, complete with the Sinclair dinosaur!
Turning north at Rawlings we're on US287 again (Really Dad? Yup.) and it's two lane and empty. Now's the time to think of Indians, er, Native Americans, Cowboys -ah - horseback herding specialists, and all that 1860's stuff. I think Em is enjoying things so far, but it's hard to tell. She, like her brother, John, makes a point of not holding on to me at all, so I cannot feel if she is shifting around in discomfort or what. We dismount to check out Split Rock, a landmark for the Pony Express and stagecoach line.

For lunch we are in Landers WY, and enjoy a leisurely meal at a family diner (GREAT milkshakes) and stroll up mainstreet. No less than 3 bookstores grab our attention. Neat town.
Back on the road through Dubois (also a neat town, much smaller than Landers, and really tucked into the mountainsides) toward the entrance to Teton National Park. We've been riding about 5 hours now, and though I know Emily must be getting weary (I certainly am) she is still not complaining or demanding. Atta Girl!
FINALLY, after 6 hours, we enter Teton NP, and all I can say is WOW. Snow on the peaks, snow on the ground in the passes, and the smell of clean, cool mountain air. I'm eating it up.

At the entrance I pay 20$ for the privilege of riding through both Yellowstone and Teton for the next week, and inquire about camping. Seems the sites are filling up, and then I misunderstand about the place I'm planning to throw down my gear tonight. I asked if I paid him (the ranger) and he said no, do it at the campsite. My confusion is in the fact that where I'm heading, Spalding Bay, is considered backcountry (I guess because it is unimproved) and I'm required to get a permit. We press on, trying not to get a strained neck or cross the double yellow while gawking at the razor sharp peaks.
As the guidebook said, 2 miles south of the Moran Mountain Turn-out, on the right (west) side of the park road is an unmarked dirt road, which we follow back about 2 miles. It dead ends at Jenny Lake, with but 2 campsites and a boat put-in. Again, WOW is all I can muster. It is late in the day, and the sun is low behind the mountains, bathing the scene in soft light. As we pull our gear off the bike and begin to set up camp, all we can think is MOSQUITOES!!!!! Yikes! It is like a feeding frenzy as millions and millions of the blood suckers attack. Luckily I kept the bug spray in my tank bag, and we are spraying down before the helmets are off.
Our only neighbors are nice, but somewhat detached, as good campground neighbors should be. They do, however, enlighten me about the permit, and the fact that a properly documented camper will be able to ask us to leave. Great. I don't think either of us would be very gracious if forced back onto the saddle. Sure enough, later on a Mercedes Benz station wagon bumps slowly down the road, turns around, and stops in front of us. A woman wearing capri pants and sandals gets out and we begin to discuss the situation. I think it was the fact that after a short paragraph each her ankles were covered in mosquitoes that convinced her to kindly allow us to spend the night.
The night. It got down to 34 degrees sometime around 0130, and it finally occurred to me why I have such a tough time in a sleeping bag. I've been approaching it as though the temp was not going to change overnight, that is, I simply prepare for the lowest temp I expect, and go with that. I start off too hot, work my way through comfortable, and wind up cold when my expectations are exceeded. What I need to do is set out layers for the various conditions in order (wearing pants and shirt while having long-johns set out nearby doesn't make much sense, whereas putting on longjohns first, laying out pants/shirt and riding liners, makes it easy to layer up as necessary). Better still would be something to pull over the bags to trap warmth.

It was a really, really long day for Emily, about 6 hours/350 miles, and I don't think the view overcame that and the bugs and the cold.

A little slow out of the blocks....

2008-06-29T18:12:00.000-07:00

6/18/08
We got it all together for an early (0540) departure from home for the DFW airport, only to sit through the first 2 flights from DFW to DEN (Dallas-Ft Worth to Denver). Third time's the charm, as they say, and we had seats side by side in which to doze on the 2 hour flight to the mile high city. Already Emily is a trooper - no whining at the early go or missed flights. We just picked up our bags and moved from gate to gate.

Once in Denver, it was a simple and pleasant transfer to the bus system RTD down to the Aurora Park n Ride, where we missed our intended bus due to some confusion on Daddy's part, and waited half an hour for the next one. So it took about 45 minutes and 12$ to get from the airport to the storage unit; not bad.
A little bit of a squeeze, getting things stowed - I'm packing an extra set of hiking boots in anticipation of the National Parks, and there are the bags we brought on the plane, etc, but in the end, it all fit and off we go into traffic on I-25 north to Wyoming.
Passing Ft Collins I took the US287 cut-off (yes, Emily, the same US287 that passes our house!) with the intention of doing a little out and back on CO14 into the Colorado State Forrest State Park (no typo, that's what it's called), but I got turned around at the gas station and missed the exit. All's well though, as the clouds were thickening up and congealing like something nasty and as we headed towards I-80 at increasing altitude and decreasing cover, there were numerous lightening strikes and micro-bursts. As the evening was approaching and the weather was getting worse, not better, I opted to roll into Laramie, Wy and call it a night.

The intersection of 287 and 80 offers many choices in accommodations, from Holiday Inn, to Motel 6, to local establishments. I picked the later, though I'm not sure exactly what attracted me to the Ranger Motel, Bar & Discount Package Store (yup, all in one. If it'd had a whore house and a grocery attached I'm not sure anyone would ever leave). We dumped our stuff and went to explore.

Emily's keen eye noted a 'Hemp Clothing Store' near-by, so there was our first stop. Interesting. I hadn't been in a head shop since my Navy days in Key West nearly 30 years ago. I think the same woman was working there. After checking out the equipment and posters (same and same) Em selected a couple of beads and hemp twine with the intent of making souvenir bracelets. Then it was across the street to Kmart for aisle walking, and over to Qubota for, as Emily put it, Subway gone Mexican burritoes. Burritos. Whatever.

Not a long day in the saddle, but a long trail from DFW to Laramie WY

and a longer one tomorrow.

Home Movies

2008-06-12T06:46:00.000-07:00

New helmet cam. We'll see how it loads.
Lower your sound setting - it's rather loud when I hit the michrophone by accident!

This is the entry into Capulin NM, and my first attempt at using the helmet cam. It is an ATC2K from Oregon Scientific $129 and they're coming out with upgrades soon. It is waterproof (rainproof) to 10ft, holds about an hour on a 2Gb SD chip (same as my camera), and has a handlebar mount (which I broke in a minor brush on the Texas Adventure Ride in Junction TX a month ago.....) and another bayonet mount I glued to a visor button for my Nolan helmet, hence the scene of removing the tinted visor. You'll also note the self image camera shot.

I have footage (archaic term! I have mega bits...?) of the ride up the volcano as well as a section of NM72. The transfer rate onto Blogger is slow, so those are too big to move.

Just don't come to my house or you'll be forced to watch "home movies" and "slides" of my trip!

Phase 1 Complete (ish)

2008-06-12T06:29:00.000-07:00

When a plan comes together......

Up a little early, 0600. It got down to 46 degrees last night. Bag barely held it's own (with liner), but I was bare as well, so I suspect with clothes, socks, and hat it'd do 30-ish ok. Took an hour to clean up, pack up, and get gone, then had to wait for a train crossing in T-dad. I-25 had light traffic, there was light wind (FINALLY), and though cool the liner top and bottom, t-shirt and shirt made me comfortable and not over dressed.

Lots of construction on I-25, and I could see potential bottlenecks in each of Pueblo, Colorado Springs and Denver, but fortunately none today. I have to be back in Dallas tomorrow, so I have to catch a flight today. Made it to Kangaroo Self-Storage, where they are just happy to have a bike, by 11:30. Two blocks away are a gas station, bank, Albertsons, and Checkers auto parts store. I bought some oil and a pan, and did a quick oil change (knew it was coming, just didn't get it done before leaving) in the storage unit, changed in the office restroom, and was waiting for the city bus by 12:30.

Getting to the airport was a simple matter of waiting for the bus to the park n ride (every 1/2 hour) and then the pnr to the airport (again, every 1/2 hour, right after the first bus arrives) for 6$ total. WHEN will the DFW MetroMess get the hang of mass transit? Superbowl traffic, anyone? Olympics (hahaha)? Flights were delayed due to weather systems, but I got on the first I tried, and was home having a beer and chicken sandwich with my friend John Blackstone who kindly dropped everything to give me a ride to the house.

Now if Wyoming weather will just warm up a bit.......

So, Where am I?

2008-06-11T12:55:00.000-07:00

I APOLOGIZE: THIS POST IS OUT OF ORDER. IT BELONGS BEFORE THE WILLIE NELSON ENTRY. I RETURNED HOME THEN WENT BACK ON THE ROAD AGAIN.

After arriving home to everyone's surprise, I began to assess my options. The object of this drill was to position a bike up north to ride with Emily over the summer. Did it have to be the R80ST? or could it be the G/S. Obviously either would do. I had even taken the precaution of reshoe-ing the G/S with Avon Distanzia tires before I left and doing a tune up.
So, after a night in my own bed, I transferred bags and baggage from ST to G/S, and headed up TX287 just twenty-four hours after I'd come down it.

I left in the afternoon of the 7th, with the intent of getting up past Wichita Falls and then spending the night at one of two TX SP's, winding up just south of Quanah at Copper Breaks SP, which has a nice little 10acre lake and lots of campsites. It is 10 miles south of the road, so you have to know it's there and plan on it. You won't just fall upon it.

It was Indy Car Race week at TMS, so there was some traffic on 820 and I-35, but not much considering. Phaedrus certainly felt he'd been this way before..... like yesterday. New rule: if you are going to make your destination by dark - fine, press on. However, if you think you are going to bail out, do so while it's still daylight and you can see what you are doing. I could have pitched the night at several camping/rest stops along the way yesterday and saved the 50$.

Copper Breaks is a nice park, except for BUBBA and his family. Jes back that Suburban up into the campsite, set up two big campfires, and break off branches from the trees to hand up a Coleman lantern set for "cook" intensity. Don't forget the dog, which roams free to sniff and pee on the tents of others. Oh, I hope they don't drink and yodel all night long.

After a shower I came back to the sound of frogs in the lake, lightning bugs blinking and hard country & western from the Suburban's tape-deck. Hard like Hank SR. Well, earplugs and some scotch should work, just please let them be thoughtful enough to wake me up when the wind (still 20mph) takes a spark into the woods and starts the fire.

Like a (good) pilot, I assessed the bike in New Mexico and made a conservative decision. Very conservative. But - if it'd crapped out in the mountains, with Emily, that'd been very bad. Mighta made it further, maybe not. Now it's home and I'm on a 'good' bike and nearly back on track.

We'll see.

Like Willie Nelson - I'm On the Road, AGAIN....

2008-06-10T18:16:00.000-07:00

6/08/08

I got worried when the music went from SR to JR, but about midnight they turned the music down to where the earplugs shut it off completely and there was no gunplay or yodeling, so it was ok. Very warm, though. It would have been nice to sleep without the fly, but there'd have been precious little privacy.

Up at 0730, showered and on the road by 0830, with a stop by the office to admit cowardice and suggest some education for the family before they left. Funny how the names matched the ages: Baby, T.R., Lynda Sue, Mamma, and Daddy. Still a south wind of 25-30mph.

Stopped in Clarendon for gas, and breakfast at the Clarendon Steakhouse - a great cafeteria place with a wide open floorplan and vinyl seats. No credit cards and closed on Wednesdays.

End of the day in Trinidad SP CO as planned. Same ol' Same ol' up 287 to Amarillo and I-40W, then at Bushland veered north per Maps.Google on 2381 to 1061. Whoa! GREAT roads, NO traffic, and did I mention the slowly dropping temps? In Dalhart the bank said it was only 82, and in TexLine a mere 77!

Route 84 from Texline to Raton passes through some eerie geography. The whole area was covered in venting magma 3 times in the past, resulting in the mounds and mounts you see as you ride through. The most recent and perfect is Capuline Volcano National Monument. A real pity I haven't had (taken/made) time for this before. I guess the headstart up to Quanah helped. 5$ fee to ride a corkscrew around a perfect volcano cone, then hike 1 mile around it's rim and .2 into the vent! Wow! Hope the film/photo's turn out!

I headed out 84 again, still beautiful and all, but straight to Raton, then noticed on the edge of the GPS a little squiggly line - NM72 starting at Folum, which I'd seen on a post leaving Capuline. Should I go back or go on? It was a Loggins & Messina moment (like: "we may never pass this way again...."). Fortunately I chose to go back past Capuline entrance through the cow grates and the cows on a road NOT on the GPS into Folsum, and when I got there couldn't find the connection to NM72!! The Folsum Museum curator, a sweet little old lady, gave directions (as you come into 'town' turn left just before the museum, cross the bridge, and left again on 72).
Wow, oh, Wow. Just the kind of road I love - unmarked, smooth, clean asphalt twisting through and diving through absolutely gorgeous high plains scenery. Breath-taking! Clouds moving through patches of BRIGHT sunlight, prairie pastures and rock cliffs, streams and trees. It went on that way for miles and miles to Raton, just 25 miles south of Trinidad, 225 south of Denver, making tomorrow (hopefully) a piece of cake.

In writing that I have sealed my fate to dead battery, flat tire and rain.

Trinidad SP is a little pricey at 20$, but most CO SP's are the same. Instead of T.R. and Baby I got a family with children actually making Indian 'Whoo-Whoo-Whoo" noises as they moved around the pine trees, an old geezer (careful, that might be me behind those whiskers) in a VW Camper (see what I mean?), and a couple on a Goldwing pulling one of those 4x8 trailers that sets up into the Taj Mahall. All were quiet by 7pm

Dinner in T-dad was to be a treat, and I found the Italian place in the old Church Bruce D had noted years ago. It was very nice, but pricier than I care to spend if I'm not gonna get 'lucky' later. Sunday night much of town was either Closed or Out of Business, so KFC it was.

Back in camp watching the sunset and clouds, drinking scotch and wondering how cold it's going to get - Presently 68 oops, 66.

A very good day.

Day 2 and "Houston, we have a problem"

2008-06-10T13:08:00.000-07:00

Well, the tent was nice and airey - no fly (no chance of rain). Also no stakes! the ground was rock. Not rock hard, just, ah, rock. I held the tent in place in the (thankfully) diminishing wind with my hard bags and helmet. Started the night off laying atop my therma-rest, then inside the silk bag liner, then finally inside the sleeping bag itself. 64 degrees before morning.

16 miles back into Ft Sumner for breakfast... was that a hint of a stutter? Hmmmmm. This will either drive me nuts or make me let it go. Although Hico Texas claims to have the grave of Billy the Kid, folks around here know that it's really in the Ft Sumner graveyard out back. So I go check it out. Seems to be right, as he is still behind bars, along with a couple of his best buddies. I should wish the same for some folks I know.

Again, the vastness and solitude are nearly frightening. Need to put a bottle of water in the kit and bring the Camelback. Had breakfast at the re-opened Sadies on the advise of the Allsup attendant. In Texas it's 7/11's, NM its Allsup's, and further north it'll be Jug n' Loaf.

Starting to miss friends and family and conversation. You have to work to start up interaction out here on the road. Stopped in Clines Corner on I-40 heading west. Man the wind! Even the trucks were slowed down - though still passing me. Some little girl went into a screaming fit at the souvenier shop and her dad took her outside saying they just didn't have the money for whatever it was. From the tone of his voice one could tell he just didn't want to buy it. Screaming continued unabaited, and actually rising in pitch until Mom went back for candy. This undercut Dad, and to cap it off, the little vixen shrieked that it wasn't the right candy!!!

Kept trying to get a weather report from people, but no one was bothering to find out or monitor. We feel invincible in our steel cages, why worry about Mother Nature? Literally, the only time people seemed aware was the 10 yards between the car and the shop. Finally a BLM guy arrived with a report, followed by 2 riders on V-stroms reporting a low passing through dropping snow in Sante Fe and high winds. Duh.

Passed through Albuqurque no problem, and north on I-25. Got off at NM550 for my run into the Jemez mountains and stopped at a Burger d'Roi for lunch. Was attracted by a young-ish woman in long skirts (NM, remember) working on her radiator. I wandered over to watch and maybe help, and noted her putting in water and pepper. Pepper? Yes, it swells and stopps the leaks. She said she drove this old car because she could 'fix' it and didn't want to be stranded with the kids. Fixed? with Pepper? Patched, maybe.

After my sumptious repast I headed up 550 towards my turn-off into the reward for the ride at San Ysidro. BUT I began to feel the stutter and stumble again.

I think.

No, I'm sure.

Not like before for Wolf or me where the rpms and speed would drop, but something amiss. So I pulled into an AutoZone (incase I need a tool) to change the Ignition Module - the last of the original ignitions system. Must've been an impressive sight, seat and tank off, tools layed out, removing electrical components, etc. About 30 min later I'm back in business, riding up 550 trying to convince myself it wasn't STILL doing it.

But I can't.

I'm less than 1/2 way through the first 1/3 of the first 1/2 (got that???) of the trip to Canada and on remote roads with my daughter on a bike that has had issues before. If this were a 777 enroute Moscow over the Pacific it would be the same decision. At agas station filling up I give Bruce Davidson, BMW guru, one last call and we got no ideas between us. So,
back down NM550
back across I-40
back down TX287
to Clarendon. All at 70mph with no problems and the only stutter at low speeds.

I stopped at the Western Skies Motel, circa 1960, for a restless night, then back to the MetroMess where Bruce couldn't feel the problem, and, after 2 beers and a couple hours decompressing with Jeff Buehner, neither could I.

So, now what?????

"So far, so good"

2008-06-10T12:38:00.001-07:00

Not the earliest start, but I filled up at the corner station at 0730 and was on I-20 heading west with rush hour traffic. Continued past town and out to Thurber and the old Thurber Brick Factory ruins. It once was a thriving company town, complete with schools, company store, etc, but all that remains now is a tall brick chimney and the New York Hill Cafe, where I stopped for breakfast. I feel like I have too much stuff - every packing place is full, and I know I'm only going to use half of it. Need to pare down at first campsite. Bike is running fine - so far, though the left valve cover is leaking just a tad. Wonder why I was so slow out of the blocks this morning - daunted by the over all plan of Calgary Canada and back? Old? Tired? I think if it worked, leaving the night before and stopping at the first State Park (SP) along the way would be a good idea.

The wind is unbelievable. I was to find out later it blew hard enough to suspend traffic at the DFW airport for a time, and I know it was 35-45kts out here on the road. I hopped off I20 onto TX180 for a change of pace. Had lunch in Post with a former Marine named Gene who was enroute from Oregon to Bryan Tx for his 50th highschool reunion.

On to Snyder, where the blowing red earth brought back that black and white dustbowl photograph of a mother holding her child. Visibility would go down in a flash to less than 3/4 mile, allowing a semi to virtually disappear before my eyes. Bike seems to be ok, but the wind makes it really hard to be sure. It's like riding a bucking bronco in slow motion.

Stopping every 100 miles for water, and every other stop for gas. 48oz of water each stop. Copious and Clear, Sarge, Copious and Clear!

Made it to Sumner Lake SP in New Mexico by 2030. 10$ for the night, and though it's a ways out of town (10 miles out, 6 miles over) it is a treat to camp next to a lake in the middle of nowhere. Cannot get over the wind/temp/dust. If I have to pay this price to leave Tx, then this will be a heck of a trip!!

When I hit the wide open spaces west of Lubbock it was eerie at first. After the crunch of the metromess, being alone for mile after mile kinda puts you ill at ease, like setting sail into the ocean, but feeling better and better.

A little planning to go a long way

2008-05-27T13:45:00.000-07:00

Gearing up for Summer '08

The master plan is a long, interrupted, motorcycle trip from the DFW MetroMess north to the doorway of Alaska in Banff, Alberta, Canada.

Again this year I'll position the bike in U-Store-It's along the way, but new this time will be moving storage from one state to another, one country to another. As in the past, one of my children, Emily (now 16) will accompany me.

That, coordinating her schedule and mine, has been the biggest obstacle, and behind the weather, is the make or break for the trip.

This year's vehicle is new to the stable, though not a new bike at all. It is a 1984 BMW R80ST, purchased in Livermoore CA and ridden back to DFW by buddy Wolf Thiel. Though I flew out and did the pre-purchase inspection and tune-up, it was he who endured a mysterious and annoying chugging (similar to running out of gas or hitting deep water) virtually the entire way back. But he persisted and prevailed. In doing the post purchase major maintenance it was discovered that the needle bearings in one rocker arm were falling out and breaking. This was corrected, but did not solve the issue. Then the ignition coil was replaced, along with the spark plug wires. Again, no help. Finally the electronic distributor itself was inspected, and a bad connection found. Since replacement there has been no trouble, but that was only a hundred miles or so back.

Long description to say that the bike is not as completely reliable as I would like, but, as Sir Edmund Hillary once noted: Any endeavor who's outcome is assured cannot be called an adventure.

The old reliable Coleman Peak One Apex 2 man tent has been replace this time with a 3 man Taj-3 from REI (on sale, 160$, how could I pass it up?). Emily felt that a little 'personal space' would be a good thing. Did I mention she's 16 now? This tent also has 2 doors, so one of us can answer nature's persistent call during the night (without reverting to the Gatorade bottle - eeyou). Also new is a set of tank panniers from Tractor Supply Company (my new best friend). These are designed for an ATV, but fit the large tank well enough. They also have document pouches on the top (for hunting and fishing licenses, I suppose) into which I have inserted metal electrical junction box lids to allow my magnetic tank bag to take hold. This will allow a better distribution of the load.

A little planning, I said. Well, I have obtained paper maps of the norther states (CO/WY, and WY/MT), and utilized http://www.maps.google.com/ for route planning. My old Garmin GPS III+ still functions, but is unsupported (even by Garmin), and will not allow direct downloading of waypoints and routes. I will still use it, though, for track logging, mileage, and time of day. Since the tripmeter and odometer on the ST speedometer are inop, the GPS will allow me to keep track of miles traveled and, more importantly, miles remaining in the tank! If (soon? I hope) the III+ takes a header a new 60Cx is in order.

Also we had to pick up a new passport for Emily. That evolution provided an opportunity to discuss with her the differences between local bribery (typically in Mexico an official or policeman will tell you a supplement is required for expedited handling) and governmental bribery (processing 'fee').

First push will be from DFW to Salt Lake City, UT. Second from SLC to Jackson WY. Third ride will be with Emily in the JAC area enjoying the Teton National Park and Yellowstone NP. Fourth run up through Glacier NP in Montana to Calgary, and finally touring Banff and Lake Louise with Emily before hightailing it home (dogging it solo) ahead of old man winter.

Maybe I oughta lay off that 'old man' moniker.

But plans, as they say, are out the window once the motors start.

Fallout

2007-08-30T06:19:00.000-07:00

I was going to call this entry "Lunch" and start off with "That's what I had After Math, Lunch. Get it? AFTERMATH?". But it thought that'd be a bit too obtuse.

The flight back from Manchester UK to Chicago US was just fine. Lots of fidgeting in the seat, moving feet and legs in search of comfort, and occasional dozing under (say it with me now) eye-patch and ear plugs. I bought my backpack and kit over in a duffel, which I then discarded, but for the trip back simply bound it all together with the 'emergency' 20 feet of parachute cord I'd carried. Made a fairly tidy little bundle and did hold both hiking poles in tight and make a nice hand hold for the bag smashers, ah, baggage loaders.

Clearing US Customs in ORD was interesting. The form specifically asks if you've been to a farm or pasture and they announced on loudspeaker to contact the agricultural inspector if you had been. They are rightfully concerned about bringing a bad disease back, like hoof and mouth (foot and mouth), and want to clean your hiking shoes with chlorine; which they did. What they did not do, and I didn't take the time to point it out as I had a flight to catch, for crying out loud, was clean the bottoms of my hiking pole baskets, nor the ground cloth for my tent! Merde!I believe the French say.

I did make my flight, and so did my bag, in time to sit through a tornado warning out on the runway holdshort area. HEAVY winds and HEAVY rains. Major damage reported in the ORD area. The delay put my return journey into the 12 hour range, and I would gladly have gone back to my sister's home, but they were without power, many trees toppled, and besides they'd just returned from a cruise and I'd have to sit through all their photos and look at their tans.
When I got home, this is what was left of my feet.

Some of this is 'normal' post walk swelling. My hiking friends tell me that it is fairly common to have some swelling when you go from 15miles a day to 0. The fluids just don't know what to do right away. My swelling was aggravated by the sprains and pains and 12hour planes (ooooh a rhyme!). I did go to the podiatrist later and found that what I'd feared was a stress fracture was rather tendinitis on the top of my right foot. The major tendon down to your big toe is the one that lifts your forefoot up when you walk, but as you grow tired (after, say, 16 and 20 miles days), the other four little tendons try to help out, get inflamed and then rub against the bottom of your shoe tongue under the laces, which then feel like piano wire chaffing the tendon sheath. Wasn't going to improve the more I walked, obviously, so a pretty good idea to knock it off. 10 day steroid pack and I'm ready for the home run record, I mean, I'll be good a new.

Logistically and Planning wise the trip went brilliantly. I didn't loose anything, my accommodations were as planned, food was on track. Spending, as usual, was a little more than expected. So here are some points I jotted down 'for next time':

Good hi-top Gortex or waterproof boots
Non-zippered Gaiters
Pack Hydrator Bladder is good - but take a small waterbottle for making tea/coffee on the trail
Stop every 60 to 90 minutes for a rest, and a dedicated lunch period
Replenish calories along the way with Cliff bars (or other)
Do at least one 20-mile day per week in the month before the trip
Consider baggage porter service, at least through the Lake District - until you get your legs
Be flexible on which direction, how long and how far you walk in order to take advantage of good weather, new acquaintances, lovely towns.
Plan on 20L a day. 15 just won't cut it with 5L camping, 5L lunch, 10L dinner&beer, incidentals
ALWAYS take advantage of an available shower - before bed and in the morning too; you ever know when the next one will be.
GET GOOD 1:25,000 charts and LEARN AND PRACTICE ORIENTEERING
A GPS can be a great comfort - if the points are plotted
Use a hanging map case for the charts - looks dorky, but saves time while walking
Practice changing into/outof waterproofs and LS shirts - save time walking
Learn foot care - how to clip toenails, wrap a sprain, care for blisters
Shave your ankles, just in case you have to wrap them in tape
Change $ to L at a bank - the airport exchange rate is terrible and they still take a bite
Don't plan on recharging anything
Take some 'business' cards with email, maybe a photo, etc, to give to trail friends
Nice, soft, comfy sandals or croc's are a Godsend after 10 hours on the trail.

Sheep. Sheep Shit. Sheep pens. Sheep folds. Sheep flocks.

Stones. Rocks. Pebbles. Stone walls. Stone Houses. Stone Ruins. Stone Circles. Stone Buildings. Stone Bridges. Stone Bridleways.

Mist. Drizzle. Rain. Fog. Cloud. Moisture. Condensation. Humidity.

Old. Really Old. Really, Really, Old. Classic. Vintage. Antique. Dust.

"What should I do with this rock?"
"Ah, just put it over there, next to the others"

Someone (CLT) has already asked me if I'll do it again.
Rather like gazing into your wife's eyes and asking if she wants another baby - as they cut the umbilical cord.

Maybe later.

22/08/07 Call it "Coast to Kirkby Stephen"

2007-08-26T04:29:00.001-07:00

It was a tough call, but I've decided to bag it and go home.
Reasons to continue: 1) said I would 2)weather to be nicer for the next few days 3) free ride from RHB to Whitby.
Reasons to stop: 1) Feet - blisters and arch 2) knees 3) ankle 4) 20 (+) mile day about did me in and there are more ahead 5) not getting easier 6) Big Bad Boggs ahead (and I hate boggs) 7) saves $ 8) My kit and I are about as clean as we're ever going to be 9) there's a train station just south of town.

So I took a slow start today, visited with the cyclists more and gave away food and fuel. I should have left the tent and bag at the campsite and light footed it through town, but I packed it all out and went for a nice stroll through K.S.
That's something that, on the whole, this time-table thing has denied me and I would advise against - hurrying through these towns. Grasmere for example begged a full day, or at least an unhurried (unlimping) afternoon's exploration. Granted, given that Luke trained AN ENTIRE YEAR for the hike and still had his pack shipped on, I could have been better prepared physically, but i think viewing this as a 14day (or less) challenge is a mistake. Far better to wait a day and cross the Lake District in the clear than press on over the tops with nil visibility! Like I did.

Kirkby Stephen has many interesting sights and sites, and (like so much else here) is a photographers dream - in good light. I was cursed by my father with a compulsive need to document by photograph, and by my photographer friend, Jeff B, to be conscious/critical of the light.

After my stroll I once again headed south out of town the "one mile or so" to the train station. "Or so" was about 1/2 mile and the only part that wasn't uphill. Right foot arch still not happy with road walking (reason 10 - more road walking ahead in the eastern part). The train station is a beautiful restoration, full of flowers and stonework. I stood at the signpost and deciphered the sched , deciding to wait for the 1245 to Leeds, and when I turned around I saw LUKE!! Great Happiness. He had finished his planned 1/2 Coast to Coast yesterday, taxiied back to K.S. this morning and set up in the same campsite I'd just vacated, and was scouting out the train station/sked for his return home tomorrow. We chatted and discussed and he waited out the train's departure to wave goodbye. A gesture I didn't fully appreciate until it was happening.
A gentleman and adventurer.

So, with a credit card one can buy a 30L ticket to MAN and I'm off again through the UK countryside - at a much greater rate than previously. Change in Leeds (quick now) to MAN Intl, where I apply for refund of my Whitby-MAN ticket for the 30th (don't bother prebooking - there'll be room), through the airport to Terminal 3 and the American Airlines Counter which is......closed. Well, the last flight is at 1050AM and its 1630(4:30)PM.

So, dinner, a expensive internet session to lesson the shock of walking through the door unannounced, a book for the wee-hours (Bill Bryson's "Notes from a Small Island", what else?), and a hopefully unobtrusive spot 'till morning

The train ride to MAN.
Waiting out the evening, night, morning.
We have lift off and everything's A-OK.
2 of the 3 bicyclists and the 2 Norton mates. Earlier the younger lads had expressed to me concern as to how to approach the older blokes. They felt there'd be some commonality with 2 wheels and all, but weren't sure how they'd be accepted. Well, it turns out.

Everywhere they can, they grow flowers

21/08/07 Shap to Kirkby Stephen

2007-08-26T03:51:00.000-07:00

Just so you know how much work it was keeping this journal........

Pubs in England are not like bars in the US. They are a real social place - children, dogs, even women, are welcomed. This one in Kirkby Stephen had a nice (real) fire in the fireplace, a bartender (pub-keeper?) who was eager to please, and good filling food at reasonable prices.

And beers/liquor. There was that as well.....

At the K.S. Peninne View Caravan Campsite were a couple of 1960's vintage Norton motorcycles on their way to a do at the Isle of Mann (yes, just off St Bees).

Tired though I was, the architecture was still too wonderful to pass up a snap.

Look lovely. Downhill, flat surface and all. BUT I'm a couple miles off course and this flat stuff is killing my foot.

For a few moments the sun shone brightly and the moor sparkled. I guess this rock was too big to make into a wall......

A bit out of order, this was the friendly bartender in Shap pulling me a "Wainwright", the namesake beer of my trek.

My lodging at Shap.

21 miles. That's it. 21 miles. I'm done.

It took just under 10 hours, and though I got up at 0700 I didn't get off until 0900, so that means I quit walking about 1900hrs. Jeeze. I had coffee and peaches and granola, and since I'd let my kit get out of control in the tent there was a lot of packing to be done. Two girls in their late teens, early twenties who where hiking the c-2-c on their own were calling it a day from here due to Achilles problems. the Chaney's were going 1/2 day and moving slowly.

At first all was well, but towards the end, near Smardale, I wound up well north of course by Ginsdale Creeking and had to road walk the last 4 miles. Didn't make a horrid mistake by trying to cross a train bridge, but I thought about it longer than I should have. I was pretty brain dead and having trouble orienting the map and doing simple time/speed/distance calculations. The absolute end.

Walking though Kirkby Stephen was killer. The Youth Hostel was open and a lovely old old church, but the smell of mildew and mold drove me away. Also the lack of positive 'buzz'. Peninne View Campsite is basically a KOA, but right across the street is a nice pub. The facilities were in good shape, and the grounds were dry and level. What more could you ask?

I threw down my tent near 3 bicyclists who were riding from Landsend to the south to John O'Groats to the north (the length of the UK), and near 2 vintage Norton motorcycles on route to Isle of Mann. For dinner the cyclists recommended the Cumbria sausage in mashed potatoes on pie crust and a pint of Guiness. Brilliant!

Before dinner, though, I did a little housekeeping, gathering all my clothes and putting them in the wash while I took a looooong hot shower and examined my ankles/feet a little more. I also washed the mud out of my gaiter zippers. Stupid idea, zippers on the back of gaiters - the mud clogs them up, they're in an inaccessible place, and when they jam you cannot take them off!

So. Tomorrow is a new day, on the 1/2 way point at Keld. Supposed to boggy in the best of times ( remember, this has been a summer of flooding ). I'll just have to see how my feet feel. Couple new blisters, a toenail, and the arch issue still.

20/08/07 Patterdale to Shap

2007-08-25T10:05:00.000-07:00

Lunch, the breakfast of champions. This is actually the 2/3'rds point (again, reverse photo order).

Coming down off Kidsty Pike. Treacherous, steep, long. Of course there were older hikers, women and families doing it too.
Hero shot - Kidsty Pike.
"Oh yew'll take the HIGH road and I'll take the low road". No wonder the Roman soldiers were so fierce in battle - they were still pissed at having to hike up THIS road!
Leaving Patterdale for Shap.

Yes, 16 miles is a long way; even broken into 1/3rds. 1st up and over. 2nd lakeside. 3rd crossing fields and roads.

Awoke at 0700 to children playing (how nice), peeked out and saw the clouds covering the hilltops and hanging low. Eyepatch back on.

Suddenly it's 0815 and I need to get going! I did brew a cup of coffee and eat a Cliffbar (while I'm here - the Cliff Walnut/Oatmeal/Raisin is wonderful!) while I packed up. Metholated spirits STINK and the pepsi-can stove doesn't do well on it. My trio next door were very nice and helpful after all, saving me 3/4 mile roundabout to the trail start.

First it was up to Angletarn Peak and Angle Tarn. Not an arduous climb, but steady. Kept taking photos and even stopped to bury a cache for CLT, my friend and real adventurer from Hong Kong who is planning the same hike next year. Along the ridge to the Knott and Kidsty Pike I hooked up with a family of 4 - including a 10yr old daughter and 14 yr old son who were likewise coast-to-coasting. We met at the High Street junction - High Street being a road built by the Romans so their soldiers could cross the Lake District while conquering Britain. Anyway, the family put me on the right path to Kidsty Pike (peak) and we took photographs of one another.

Heading down was murder - toes jammed into the toe-box of my shoes, slipping, extending my knee, etc, and a long - long way. Started bonking on energy along the way so planned a lunch at the end of the 2nd 1/3rd (after the lakeside walk).

Haweswater Lake was not like Ennerdale. More vegetation and narrow path with lots of rises and falls. Made good time, though. I can feel some foot work will be needed tonight, little toes need wrapped, and the top of my right foot has bad feeling - like the laces are way too tight an the knot is under the shoe tongue instead of on top. Hurts more on level tarmac than going downhill or up (which is odd, because everything else hurt more on the hills!)

Haweswater Dam looks like something from 633 Squadron - Dam busters, when the RAF practiced skip bombing in WWII. After Burnbanks there was some vagueness to the rout, and I missed Shap Abby and added another bit to the trip. Arriving in Shap I had a pleasant surprise: the Chancey Family, who'd had a tough time from Borrowdale to Grasmere (as had I). Judith fell in a stream and bruised her knee, and Jack, the youngest, got a great whack to the face very near the eye from a returning gate. Then after dinner the Ellis family came through (from High Street). Ian even offered to pick me up from Robin Hood's Bay and transport me to the train station at Whitby on my final day.

Tomorrow is 21 miles.

21?

What was I thinking?

19/08/07 Grasmere to Patterdale

2007-08-25T09:36:00.001-07:00

Ok, reverse order photos! This is the Stile Farm Campsite.

Dapper, really dapper.
Care for some chocolate or tea?
A Foggy night, in London Town.....
"My head is too big and my arms are too short"

Not a great sleep - mattress too soft and mildewed, room-mates in/out, too warm at 70degrees. Ah, for my sweet tent! But all was dry and comfortable. Finally packed up and ready to go about 0915 as the weather was supposed to improve later in the day. If it did it was only marginally, however there never was a full on rain, just varied between naught, mist, drizzle and spirits of sunlight now and again.

Three men I'd unknowingly followed in had about 1/2 hour start on me, and, I think, took the first alternate offered to the north of Great Tongue. I reached the false summit and thought i was looking at Grisedale Tarn (a 4acre lake) - in fact it was just a bog between peak lines. Such was the visibility over the top in the clouds, again. Wind and clouds make the hike harder, and I backtracked once before deciding I was still correct and just needed to press on. Finally I had descended enough and the cloud thinned out enough to see the actual tarn, confirming my course. I, naturally, began to bellow what I know of "A Foggy Night, in London Town" at the top of my lungs.

at the northern end of the tarn were a father and his beautiful daughter, brewing a cup of tea and noshing on biscuits whilst the dog scattered sheep and fish with equal abandon. They didn't think much of my singing.

Just down from the tarn i almost passed BrothersParting Rock (the locals have quite the thing for Wordsworth here). the rest of the way in, about 8km, was straight-forward, even a bit tedious. Amazing how hard tarmac feels on one's feet after a day on the trail.

Several families and couples were out picnicking in the 60degrees, 20mph wind, drizzley day; though all were taking shelter behind large rocks, using ledges and crannies as shelves for tea cups and stoves!

Grisdale Lake is a resort area just north of the trail, but Patterdale is just to the south and a nice place as well. An American works at the General Store there, and we had a nice chat. The White Lion Pub food was fair at best, I didn't care for their local brew, and there was apparently discord among the employees.

I''m getting used to this walking thing, and am pleased and amazed at how outdoorsie the Brits are - despite the rainy weather. 10L at the pub, 2L at the store. 5L camp.

Book lists tomorrow as a long day; climb early, then round the lake, then a long slog into town.

Stile Farm Campsite is a caravan camp and camp ground, so there are all types of campers: couples, singles, families young and old. Above me is a young family, trying to keep the kids out of the mud (good luck with that). To one side an angry couple - he's swearing at her and doing all the work (he says). In front of me a trio of possible revelers 2 males and 1 female that may or may not be the noisiest of the group on their return from the pub later. Ah, earplugs and eyepatch, come to me! It is also quite muddy from a busy and wet weekend, and not much level, non-boggy ground to be had. Still, the showers are free and hot and I'm not walking anymore today.

18/08/07 Barrowdale to Grasmere

2007-08-25T09:12:00.000-07:00

A 'short' day with a single range in the middle to cross, but still....
Up early-ish after a good sleep. John and Sharon already packing, Luke not up just yet. The patter of heavy drizzle and comments from the camp custodian (5L please) put us all in our waterproofs straight on. I was first out, the rest planning to press on to Patterdale, about twice as far away. Nice easy warm up into Stonethwaite then across the bridge onto gravel. And up.
Today's path was, for the most part, easily discernible if not at all desirable. The constant drizzle intermittent rain had filled the trail into a small shallow running creek, and made the 'boggy bits' a muck of dark black soil/sheep droppings. Or you can vault from rock to rock and hope you neither miss (and plant foot to ankle in goo) or fall off and twist an ankle. Proper footwear and gaiters would let one plod on regardless. My Merrel's are low cut and not waterproof, so early on my socks and feet were sodden wet and filthy. Still, I tried to avoid the water and bogs, adding time and distance and sapping energy. the low clouds held their ground as i climbed into them, visibilities dropping as low as 1/4 mile at times. I learned to use map and compass more and the book less until I'm in town.

Just so you know, this isn't a "gimme" walk!
A bed and a place to store my 'stuff'.
The drying-room - much in demand this day. 100degrees plus and near 100% humidity. Oh, and a fragrance that had even the sheep turning away......

Even the Youth Hostels were 'quaint'.

Starting at 0800 I crossed Clinging Crag at 0950 and the bridge at Far Easedale Gill at 1220. in the interim I did a fair to good job holding the path, but this pulling the map out stopping is taking a time tool. I also hit a rock wrong and went down heavily on my left knee; bruising it and popping my right (I heard it go! now brother Hal and I will have even more in common). Once along the Gill it was a fair walk into Grasmere, where I missed the first hostel, but got a bed in the second for 19L, lunch at the co-op for 5L, wash and dry for 2L, dinner for 8L and mapcase and stove fuel for 10L. Ouch. Internet contact was 2L for 1/2hr to update the blog a little, Email friends en masse and find out I got NONE of my choices allowing a 31st Aug return to USA. So, I'm going to work hard to be back on the 30th.

touch wood.

Signs, signs, everywhere there's signs

2007-08-24T12:18:00.000-07:00

definately not blocking the scenery! Signage on this walk was not what I expected. There was much more orienteering than I was prepared for as well. My guide book was too detailed, my maps not detailed enough (they were 1:50,000, I needed the ON 1:25,000 that John and Luke carried).
But they were beautiful when they were there!

17/08/07 Ennerdale Bridge to Barrowdale

2007-08-22T09:15:00.000-07:00

While John and Sharon enjoyed a full breakfast (the best idea! start out with lots of energy and a full tummy) I had 1L coffee. Today went as expected, until it didn't. But that's the joy/pain of trekking. A little headache form the second pint last night was small price to pay for the comradre. Coffee and granola and I'm off walking by 0830. First it was road work to the edge of Ennerdale Water, then a lakeside path with goregeous views. If day 1 was Hitchcock, then this was Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone! Good surface and fast pace. At the eastern end of the lake were 3 choices - alternate low, official, or hi. I first chose the official/hi to offer the hi option, but chickened out as I observed the clouds bumping into the hills. I maybe shouldn't have.

From EW to Black Sail Youth Hostel is a straight forward forrest road walk, and not much to tell. Black Sail is tremendous! Nearly at the head of River Liza (which feeds EW), it sits alone with unobstructed views. Would be an excellent place from which to base a couple of days walks and meet the hikers passing by. Louk, our Netherland friend, was a man set free - after his first day he sent on his pack and walked with only a raincoat and mapcase. And he walked FAST. At BSYH I snacked and chatted with a British couple who then shared a bread and cheese/cucumber sandwich. Kind, yes, but also that much less for them to carry. Then I started over the pass to Borrowdale and here is where it all went downhill. No, uphill. No, traverse. Ah, back across again and finally up and over as I lost the trail and made my own trying to join one I THOUHT I saw before I backtracked and got help. I added up to 4 miles of HARD walking to get where I should have been 2 hours previously. I also twisted my left ankle moderately in the process. Finally over the top of Grey Knot, I caught up with John and Sharon for the long, hard, treacherous track downhill to Slate Mine Visitor Center, where we also caught the Chaneys.

Footsore at this point, even the road walking into Barrowdale was painful. We passed through Seatoller and very nearly the Gillercombe Campsite en route Rostwaite. In fact we were slowly climbing a high stile when I looked over and saw the campsite - and Louk! He'd been here an hour, was all set up and brewing boullion. John and Sharon and I pitched near him, and gratefully accepted hot water for tea/coffee. I fixed backpacker's lasagna as I just couldn't do the 10 minute walk to Rosthwaite to look for pub and food. Cheaper that way as well, what with the extra pint last night, the 5L to camp and 50P for a shower (WELL worth it). I planned to nosh another power bar, shower and then sleep. Planned on 14 miles, probably did closer to 16 or 18.

Beautiful stonework in the wall at Black Sail Hostel.
My benifactors at BSH
Quite a difference walking here.

#1 Temperature: Been 55 at night running to 65 in the day. Makes walking feasible and fun. It takes a nice brisk walk to stay warm.

#2 Trails are not so much trails in the US sense with markers and arrows and such, but rather paths in a general direction which seem to cross everywhere! As long as you know where you are heading you just walk the path pointing nearest to it!

Louk just poked his head in - he cannot charge his camera battery and so is out of luck tomorrow. Double A's working nicely, thanks, and I can buy them at any village store. Speaking of what works.... so far I have been unable to obtain Denatured alcohol, known here as metholated spirits, so my stove is out of comission. Louk and John have kindly donated hot water, and I suspect a pub would too for a nominal fee. The Tent is OK, but, being single walled, somewhat condensation prone in cool weather. As Jeff B noted, it'd be nice to have the tent and foot print on the outside of the pack for quick set up and drier take-down. need to get the z-rest sleeping pad inside somehow. Sleeping bag is cool-cold. Definately could use the silk liner, especially when it's windy, as tent 'breathes' and the moving air sucks the warmth out of the bag. Eye-patch and ear plugs mandatory, so maybe a dedicated (loud) mini-alarm? Haven't needed a flashlight, yet, nor medical kit (may tape ankle tomorrow). Have worn 1 pr smart sox, 1 pr u/w (will change tonight, thanks, after a really hot 50p shower), zip off pants w/ legs, T-shirt and LS thermal shirt. Hiking I vary the T-shirt, LS shirt and Frogg Togg top. At night I add fleece vest. So far thats been ok. Hat is good, sunglasses not necessary (yet). Rain gear top has been in/out a lot and the top compartment location works well. Croc's are a little too big, so they're not great for long walking but OH SO COMFY at day' end. Thermo mug holds TP nickely on the trail and has helped transfer the hot water.
We had a very nice evening conversation. John and Sharon brought back a bottle of wine (and described their lamb shank dinner!).

John, Sharon and Louk!

16/08/07 St Bees To Ennerdale Bridge

2007-08-19T01:15:00.000-07:00

Marching off this morning in the bright clean air I headed towards the beach and Bees Head, the beginning of the walk. Must've been on time, as another couple of hikers, man and woman (turned out to be John and Sharon Carlin) left their hotel right behind me.

Bees Head is remarkable, with the kind of cliffs that inspired Alfred Hitchcock's terror movies. It was also the longest time of the day's walk, as I took snap after snap. I think the idea of walking the first 5 miles around the Head and coming back by bus to your camp in St Bees (as suggested by the Stone House caretaker and followed by the Chaney family) on the day you arrive is a good one, as the light would be good (from the west) but walking it all in one day is important as well....

Breakfast was a hearty full English at 5L (L is for pounds), making a total of 8.50 for room and board. I was out about 0830. At one point after BH it looked like heavy rain coming, so I put on my Frogg Togg top and just as the rain was imminent a typical British red telephone booth turned up. I stepped inside as the first drops fell, waited out 5 minutes of heavy rain, and stepped back out to remove the top and continue on.

Found the Guidebook by Henry Stedman (British Walking Series) a little TOO detailed, as it covers a small distance per page and one needs a marching band music holder to keep it at eye level as one walks. Several pubs/restaurants were closed, but 3 Tuns Pub was open for lunch and strategically located at a turn in the walk. 5L bought a meat and potato pie and a pint.

Got a bit off track at Stanley Pond, where the walk just traverses a few fields, so I stopped and had a 'think', buried it, and pressed on. Found a roadway/bike path and switched from book to Harvey Map and compass walking through Moor Row and Cleator in quick succession. Crossing a dent and by Nanny catch Beck I also erred, but got back to the road into Ennerdale Bridge.

Continued into Ennerdale Bridge and set up camp - meeting the Chaney's again (they had reservations down the road another 5 mile but had stopped for dinner) and John and Sharon Carlin (the couple who started behind me) and a chap from the Netherlands named Louk who had only been speaking English 3 years!

What a road! Barely 1 1/2 car width, if that, with NO berm or side for the pedestrians. It did have a nice, high, safe public footpath paralleling, though, which was used and appreciated. Fox & Hound at EB was the first, and , to our knowledge, only game in town, so soon there were 3 tents in the garden. We had a merry time of it (just a little too merry), enjoying dinner and beers.

14-15/08/08 Chicago to Manchester UK to St Bees

2007-08-18T09:56:00.000-07:00

Some have been kind enough to say I'm a good writer. I appreciate that, but here, in this
community on the coast of England, words fail me enitrely. Everything from the temperature to the sea breeze to the vivid evening colors, the smell of antiquity, horses, flowers and grass, the sounds of birds, motors, dogs and horses overwhelm my senses. If that weren't enough the age of everything, the orderliness of everything, the feeling that all is as it should be, where it should be fill me with tranquility/anticipation. Can it get any better?
-'Oh wait 'till Ennerdale' says one 'Ah, Scottland puts the c2c to shame', says another. It is simply incredible to realize that a scant 48 hours ago I was in the 104 heat in dfw, 24 hours in the bustle of ord, and now I'm camped in the garden of a centuries old house, and if that weren't weird enough, when I pitched my tent and intruduced myself to the family already camping here, they said ' Oh, we knew you'd be here. we read your blog!" It truly is a small, small world. I apologize if I step on toes or take your seat!
The flight went as flight do. First a delay for equipment, then the battle of boarding, take off and feeding, followed by hour upon hour of chasing rest and sleep. I did get some rest, having learned that while sleep is ideal, just relaxing and resting will fill in the momentary lapses enough to fuel the next day's work

Manchester is a tunnel-like airport with a hallway instead of expansive lobbies, but fairly easily navigated. The train station is attached, and it was easy to obtain and then modify my ticket to St Bees. The key is deparutre/destination = track. I connected in Preston to Carlisle, where I had an hour to walk about. I had a meat and potatoe pie and then remembered (too late) that I needed alcohol for my stove. Couldn't find any, so new plan is to carry a gaz stove head for the cannister stuff 'just in case'. Back on the train for the costal journey, that was, in itself, worth the trip over. St Bees is all the guidebooks say and more, and while I am loathe to leave I cannot wait to do so, to be walking thorough these green, moist, cool, welcoming fells.

Dinner at the Manor house (the Queen Anne having been closed by the brewery - such is the fate of a 'closed' or company pub)) was tuna sandwich and chips (fries) and a local draught beer. Two local chaps, Spike and Morton, from the nuke plant to the south, were great company - harassing the barmaid and each other, and I had to turn down a pint and endure further (justified) name calling for the sake of rest.

It can't get better than this!

13/08/07 Dallas Ft Worth to Chicago

2007-08-18T09:53:00.000-07:00

DFW-ORD

So far, so good, as the old joke goes.

Up at 0715 out the door by 0800, dropped daughter Emily at band, then onto the airport and Flight 2335 to Chicago. On time departure and early arrival. Sister Nancy and brother-in-law Hugh arrived to pick me up in 5 min. - couldn't be any better! Enjoyed seeing them again - both look good, if a little older, but then, we are! Hugh is sporting a new moustache and looking dapper.
Dinner at Italian restaurant with gripe-y waitress (claimed her boss was stealing her tips). I obviously don.t eat out enough. We watched couple of showtime 'adult content' shows and the end of S.A.C. w Jimmy Stewart and then went to bed.
Oh, my insulated cup 'blew apart' so I need to superglue it.

So Far, So Good

2007-08-14T06:33:00.000-07:00

An optimist is sight seeing ontop of a 50 story skyscraper and falls off. As he passes the 30th floor someone looking out of the window notices him and yells, for lack of anything better to say, "hey, how's it going?", to which the optimist replies "So far, so good".

I've always thought that an accurate and non-jinxing answer.

Day 1 went as planned, basically just an airborne re-spot (carrier language moving something from one end of the ship to the other by launching it) from DFW to ORD. Up at the crack of 0715, out the door by 0800, pausing briefly to drop daughter Emily at band practice, and then up to the big airport and at the gate by 0900 for a 1010 departure.

Having just a little padding here and there allows things like traffic slowdowns and accidents, TSA examinations and longer than expected lines to be taken with philosophical calm. After all, when you are early it's no skin off your neck.

Non-rev seat 31E is a center seat at the back of the plane, so ear plugs in, sunglasses on, and 2 sleepy hours later I'm in Chicago, and so is my bag (step one). As I step onto the curb topside my sis calls and 3 minutes later she and hubby pick me up and whisk me away.

Just as planned.

The rest of the day was spent describing the trip, showing them all my camping stuff (sis has taken over supervision of her baby brother now that the adults are gone), and then catching up on family news. And food. There was food involved.

"Just as planned" has me thinking about whether this qualifies as an adventure, or just a trip, and while I'm hoping for a little of the former, I'm thinking it's actually the latter. I know where I'm going to be, and when. I know where I'm going to sleep and how I'm going to pay for it, and I'm sufficiently trained and equipped to handle all foreseeable issues. So, a nice trip, to a foreign country, but not an adventure. That's ok. Not everything in life is adventurous, some of it's just fun.

Just a walk in the Park

2007-08-06T04:16:00.000-07:00

It began in my "library" reading a copy of the Smithsonian Magazine. The article described trekking Britain's Coast to Coast walk, and the writer was recounting how he finished this day's walk of 12 miles, set up his tent in the back garden of a pub (tenting as an option, not a necessity), changed, and went into the pub for a pint and a pie. In his words "hiking the way it was meant to be!"

I concurred!

So now, though my readers (how ostentatious that sounds!) still think me stuck on the Andes in Peru, I am actually in the final week of preparation for my 200 mile walk across the UK. Again by using this wonderful Internet for something other than illicit pictures and being bombarded by solicitations for male enhancement products, I have been able to put together a pretty do-able two week adventure.

First, just a short background of the hike. In 1974, Alfred Wainwright, a noted British Fell Walker, stitched together some of the many trails or walks or right of ways in northern England to complete a coast to coast walk some 190 miles in length (here is the first point of confusion - though they are on the metric system and tell temperature in Celsius, maps are given first in miles then kilometers. Go figure). It caught on almost immediately and while it has never been given official status as a national trail, such as our Appalachian or Pacific Coast Trails, there are indeed maps published and guides available. The walk stretches from St Bees on the west coast to Robin Hood's Bay on the east and traverses the noted Lakes District - some of the most beautiful countryside in England. As mentioned, each day begins and ends in a village or town, most a mere 12-15 miles apart. This means that one need not 'camp', but could, pockets permitting, reserve bed and breakfast accommodations for each night and carry only daily necessities of snack and drink. Sherpa services are available to transport clothing and what-not's from B&B to B& ah B. My own circumstances dictate that I play turtle and carry shelter and some provisioning with me for the entire way. While open camping is not as available as on the AT or PCT, there are campsites (3pounds) with showers at nearly daily intervals.

Transportation from Dallas-Ft Worth will be to Manchester on my own American Airlines, and then by British Rail from Manchester to St Bees and from Whitby (just north of RHB) back to Manchester. Preparations began as serious walking on a regular (if not daily) basis; laps at the local park, the elliptical in layover hotels, and finally on the streets of Arlington. At first it was just get out there and do it, but it has proceeded as my gut has receded, to 6 miles at 4mph carrying 25lb pack and 2lb hand weights. While Texas is not noted for its mountains, my course has few level areas and in the 90 degree 80% humidity has done as intended - reduced me. I also dove into Coast to Coast chat rooms, studied published itineraries and trip reports, and ordered maps and guide book (horribly expensive!!!!) and train tickets to/from the route. My 25lb training day-pack is stuffed with dictionaries and bottles of water and trailer balls (no comments, please, they are just for weight) to simulate my intended hiking-pack load. It is, as Collin Fletcher would have said, all about weight.

Bear with me. My pack is a Kelty Haiku (about 3lbs), tent is an MSR Missing Link (about 3lbs), sleeping bag is a 2lb 35 degree.

Here is my packing list:

Shelter: Tent, pegs, footprint, Z-pad, sleeping bag, hat, socks, ear plugs, eye patch

Kitchen: Pepsi-can Stove, fuel bottle, pot w/lid, wind break, lighter, measuring cup, lexan fork&spoon, dish soap, brush, pot holder, camp towel, trash bag, insulated mug w/lid

Clothing: Merrel low-cut shoes, 2 pr smart-wool socks, 3 pr mesh wicking underwear, 2 wicking short sleeved t-shirts, 1 pr nylon shorts, 1 set polypro longjohns (top & bottom), 1 pr gators, 1 set Frogg Togg raingear, 2 bandanna's, 1 long-sleeved nylon/poly shirt, 1pr long (zip-off) nylon pants, 1 pr 'Crocks' shoes (these last items are to be dual purpose - they're nice enough to wear on the flights to Manchester (and hopefully still nice enough to wear back) but also light weight and quick drying to wear on the trail), 1 fleece vest

Personal: Digital camera&case&extra 2G chip, batteries, mini-tripod, sunglasses, compass, maps & guide book, headlight, journal & pencil, monocular (like binoculars only, well, one of them), bug spray, Bull Frog sunblock, iodine tablets. walking sticks

Bathroom: TP&hand sanitizer, trowel, toothbrush, toothpaste, personal towel, small bar of soap, Dr. Bronners liquid soap, mirror, personal wipes, disposable razor and deodorant (for the trip home)

Medical: Moleskin and scissors, athletic tape, ace bandage, nail clipper, gauze pads, bandaids, antibiotic ointment, peptobizmal, lotmil, aspirin, ibuprofen, tweezers, magnifying glass, thermometer strip

Food: Oatmeal breakfast bars, pouched tuna/chicken/albacore, Cliff & Power Bars, instant soups, Mountain Home freeze dried meals.

I think that's about it. I used Coleman compressing bags on the sleeping bag and clothing; free stuffed the tent, and Zip-lock bagged the rest. The Kelty bag has a hydrator bladder so I'll fill that each morning and carry a small bottle of water for emergency. As I've noted, towns are not too far apart, so there'll be tap and bottled water available daily if not several times each day so I'm not taking 2 weeks worth of food or water treatments etc. In fact the guidebook really put me off the idea of filtering water when it discussed the sheep feces and fertilizers in the lakes and streams. All told the load is 27lbs, or about 20% of my 140lb body weight. I'd like to trim a few more pounds off each, but there's not enough time.

I have listed for flights from Dallas Ft Worth (DFW) to Chicago (ORD) on 13AUG to spend the night with my sister and her husband, then from ORD to Manchester International UK (MAN) on 14AUG arriving 15AUG at 0720. The train leaves MAN (how convenient) at 1127 with one stop and arrives St Bees at 1630 15AUG. I plan to camp there and begin my walk on 16AUG to arrive Robin Hood's Bay on 29AUG. The next day, 30AUG, I will transport up to Whitby for the train back to MAN, arriving mid afternoon. My flight from MAN to ORD leaves in the morning of 31AUG and continues back to DFW by 1730. All things going to plan.
Currently the weather in northern England is intermittent light rain with temps hovering around 60degrees.

Fahrenheit.

A Matter of Balance

2007-01-21T07:21:00.000-08:00

One of the many things I appreciated on the Inca Trail was that none of my co-trekkers was using an I-pod. As while riding a motorcycle, hiking can be a time to let your mind run around in its home of your head opening doors and drawers, looking for lost items and examining things in silence.

In both hiking and biking there are physical balances which must continually be struck. How much can I carry versus what do I need (or what can I do without)? Where do I pack it - high or low, left or right? I need to be careful on these steps going down; I need to lean in here and add some throttle there. Like that. Physical, concrete weights and balances.

Then there are also ideological balances that must be attained. How fast do I want to get from here to my 'destination'? Do I travel far away to see something and skip all the sights in between or do I not go so far (or to so many destinations) and spend more time in the intermediate stops. Do I spend more time in the future (long range destination) or in the present (the trail it's self)?

This battle can translate itself into things like trip planning (18 cities in 8 days) and trip packing (do I take the Nikon D1000 SLR digital camera with 2 extra lenses weighing 10lbs or the pocket point-n-shoot weighing 18oz), but it can also be a step by step conflict (how many photographs do I take, and how technical do I want them to be? Do I stop and read the entire site description at each ruin (or in each room)?).

Then there's the money thing - Comfort and Ease versus Admission and Airline Tickets, Local foods (questionable) versus MacDonald's (safe but homogeneous), Souvenirs versus Guidebooks.

This has become an idiom of psychology: when a person has all the weights in accord he is 'balanced'. Tip to one side and you become 'unbalanced'. But I find the typical scale or see-saw/teeter-totter is an insufficient analogy for this war, better is the mobile with it's many associated and interconnected balanced bars. Take a heavy expensive camera and you have the weight, the used-up money, the necessity for use, the need for security against damage or theft, etc, etc. Plan a trip to a tremendous location in a finite period of time (and we all have but a finite period of time, don't we?) and you may have to by-pass or skip on intermediate sites. On one end is the traveler who must stop in every shop and store along the road and misses the tour bus, and on the other the traveler who flies non-stop to the nearest airport, takes a coach directly to the site and sees little else but the destination.

It's a fine balance, and in part what makes chatting with other travelers such a joy and education. Each person has to find their own balance in each situation and must accept that fact that the scale will never be perfectly level. I know of no traveler/adventurer who returns saying: "Now that went absolutely perfectly!"

That's why a real traveler is always planning their next trip..........

Finally......

2007-01-18T10:54:00.000-08:00

Kickin' around Cusco

2007-01-18T10:47:00.000-08:00

Aguas Calientes

2007-01-18T10:40:00.000-08:00

Stonework, or, Death of a Battery

2007-01-18T10:34:00.000-08:00

Sun God? Where art Thou?

2007-01-18T10:28:00.000-08:00

Nearly There

2007-01-18T10:19:00.000-08:00

Winayauwana

2007-01-18T10:12:00.000-08:00

Inca Steps

2007-01-18T10:03:00.000-08:00

Footwork

2007-01-18T09:56:00.000-08:00

Someone say 'mountain'?

2007-01-18T09:49:00.000-08:00

After the "Inacessible House" we taveled another mile and set up camp. It was nearly dark and we were all fatigued from the downhill effort. While the supermen Franz and Daniel and our guide Casiano played cards in the dinner tent with some of the Porters, the rest of us retired to our tents to salve our wounds.

The following morning, however, we were all stunned to find that we had camped in one of the most beautiful places imaginable. Again, the temps were moderate and well managed with good pads and bags, but the view of snow capped peaks was breathtaking! I felt as though I was in base-camp on Everest with the clouds passing silently and majesticly beneath me like the fabled Lost Dutchman.

Still more Flowers!

2007-01-18T09:45:00.000-08:00

Floral Interlude

2007-01-18T09:39:00.000-08:00

Up until this point most of the vegetation was fairly typical high country stuff - scrubby bushes, a few trees here and there. All along the way were exclaimation points of color - the flowers of Peru. The only name I heard was for one: Forever Young. The rest are, for me, nameless beauties.

This (next) is the Forever Young Flower.

yes, it was a loong second day

2007-01-18T09:28:00.000-08:00

As I said, the weather was beautiful - just the right temperature (upper 50 to low 60) for hiking and clear skies. Well, not having a cap of some kind I spent the first night and morning of the second day suffering the effects of sun on my barely covered head. For both physiological and practical reasons I was sporting my 'adventure' haircut - a buzz - and was well burned. Hence the attractive head-dress you'll notice in this and other photos. Practical lesson - you do what you have to do.
In the background you'll notice the trail coming down off Dead Woman Pass into rocky area. That was lunch stop for Day 2. It then comes UP to what translates as "The Egg Shaped Building" or temple. We stopped here for a little look-see and photo shoot.

The square building would be of secular nature, storage or housing, and the beautiful curved structure is for religious ceremony or worship. Either has a commanding view of the area - in fact, the position of the buildings is designed to allow communication from ridge line to ridge line in case of attack or for alert. Green, Red and Yellow flags were waved to communicate different things from one end of the Inca Trail (Cusco) to the other (Machupicchu) in short order.

This is the "Inaccessible House". There is only one slender stairway up and it is surrounded by cliffs. Again, the impressive view of the valley and the peaks surrounding.

Below it was the guard house, or soldiers station.

Inside the 'house' we found the wonderful stonework and planning which allowed water to be collected off the walls to irrigate the ever present terraces and service the ceremonial and daily baths/toilets. The Incas also moved water from a small lake about a mile up the trail by means of channels cut into the rock and hollow bamboo 'pipes' buried in the ground!

In this photo one can also see a hole carved into a corner stone. This area is subject to earthquakes and it is thought that in such times ropes were tied from corner to corner to help stabilize the structure. One should also note that the outside of the walls all slope inward toward the center of the structure, and the inside of the walls slope to a lesser degree toward to outside of the structure, as well as the double interlocking position of the stones themselves making a very, very strong product. There were few, if any, right angles - all openings were trapezoidal with the base wider than the top for the same reason.

And it was the Morning of the Second Day

2007-01-18T09:13:00.000-08:00

One question anyone who has ever camped has asked themselves, aside from "Why the hell am I doing this", is "How cold was it last night?". In preparation for this trek, and hopefully others, I bought a recording thermometer watch. Not only does it provide time and current temp, it notes the high and low, and (once the other members of your group find out) provides hours of entertaining sarcastic remarks. Never the less, I am happy to report that the coldest it got on the trip was this first night out at 42F. If you want C YOU do the math. This was another point of humorous diversion between the two Americans and, well, everyone else. C or F, Feet or Meters. It was High and it was Cold. End of line.

Morning #2 was beautiful, and peek-a-boo clear, with the clouds literally bumping into us as we roused at 0600 for breakfast at 0630. We were greeted by a troupe of llamas wandering their pastures, and everyone got the obligatory photos.

Again, I was thrilled that the temperatures were manageable, as my protection was limited to the fleece jacket, thin long-sleeved shirt, two cotton t-shirts, and blue-jeans. As someone more experienced than I noted, however, having calories to expend (plenty of food) and expending them (the effort of hiking under load) is what really keeps you warm! It isn't called 'burning' calories for nothing!

We had another 1000 feet or so to the top of Dead Woman's Pass, and then, as they say, it's all down hill. Except for the up-hill.
Dead Woman's Pass is so named because during the re-discovery of the Inca Trail backwards from Machupicchu the explorers came upon a small grave/tomb at the top of the pass. It was a female obviously offered as a sacrifice to the sun-god. This day all our women (both) were on good behavior.

It was then, and is now, permissible to leave a rock or coca leaf offering in place of human sacrifice. An interesting series of cairns is being built up along the ridge line and, as a testament to human spirit, up the sides of the pass towards the peaks defining it. Looking carefully in the above photo you can see the trail winding down towards the starting point, back some 8 miles and around the bend.

Now we face what is actually the more hazardous section and physically wearing - the downhill. While traveling uphill one must fight gravity, it is also providing some assistance by slowing your pace and ensuring firm footing. Not so down hill. Like a pebble dislodged and bouncing down a hillside over a cliff, a mis-step could lead to a twist, a fall, or a disaster. We were carrying next to nothing (except the Germans, Franz and Daniel who, whether for fiscal reasons or machismo, decided to carry their own gear. NOTE: in good natured fashion they did nothing but bicker over who carried longer, higher, farther, faster the entire way!), but the porters carried incredible loads up to this point and then down. Here is a porter from a different tour group with around 50lbs of gear. While most wore old running shoes some were in sandals, including the one porter I saw carrying TWO full propane tanks - at 13,000feet! Remember that cheering and applause I mentioned? Each time a porter passed a group of hikers we would give way and give a cheer - for that was our dinner tent and dinner going by!

This is Fran, 1/2 the Australian contingent, coming down some of the treacherous steps at a reasonable rate. Her companion, Hein, had his hair on fire that day and went off like a shot downhill and out of sight. Though he didn't fall he was to pay a price........