Here's another trip story - this time from 1996. I'll add more photos soon.
Day 1: Saturday, July 20. 1996 – Carmel, Ind., to Menomonie, Wisc.
As usual, I got off to a later start than I'd hoped. I pulled out of my carport at
9:39 a.m. and rode to the Shell station at Carmel Drive and Rangeline Road to put 40 psi in both tires.
I headed west on 116th Street, my Walkman playing the Rolling Stones' “Start Me Up” through my helmet headphones. I rode through Zionsville and then down to I-74 at Brownsburg. The weather was cool and pleasant with partly cloudy skies.
The new Works shock felt great and I had the same sense of stability and confidence I felt when the bike was new five years ago.
I rode west on I-74 and the radar detector saved me west of Crawfordsville when I met a state trooper running radar. Moments later, apparently after whipping across the median, he blew past me and pulled over a couple in an older car who had also just passed me.
I rode without a break to Normal, Ill., where I had lunch at a McDonald's and gassed at the Shell station next door. Studying the map at the station, I decided to avoid the gathering clouds to the west and head north on I-39.
I made a brief detour west on I-80, then thought better of it and found my way back to I-39 on county roads. At a rest park south of Rockford, Ill., I dug out my KOA directory/atlas and picked as ambitious a goal as I could – the KOA at Menomonie, Wisc. phoned in a reservation and got moving again.
I paid tolls of 15 cents and 45 cents on I-90 in Illinois before crossing into Wisconsin. I took a break halfway to Eau Claire and gassed again at Eau Claire. As I predicted, I reached the Menomonie KOA as the sun was setting about 8:30 p.m.
I paid my $18.99 fee and picked up a current KOA directory before pitching my tent and heading for dinner at a Perkins restaurant on the other side of the highway. I got to the restaurant about 9 p.m.
I used my Walkman with helmet speakers all day and it made a huge difference in the tedium of droning through Illinois. I can't hear it all that well, but some sound is better than none.
I noticed that I still had North Carolina clay on my tent pegs from last weekend's BMW Motorcycle Owners of America International Rally at Morganton.
It was a good first day – great weather and 598 miles. I hope to make western North Dakota by tomorrow night, but am concerned there may be rain to the west.
Day 2: Sunday, July 21 - Menomonie, Wisc., to Dickinson, N.D.
The alarm on my Walkman went off at 5 a.m. and I got moving immediately. I surprised myself by remembering the three-digit code to the lock on the men's restroom/shower. I rode out of the KOA about 6:30 a.m. in the chilly morning air and decided to stop at Perkins for breakfast and let the temperature come up a bit. I also wanted to give the deer a chance to get off the road.
After a disgustingly healthy breakfast of decaf, bran flakes, toast and grapefruit juice, I put the liner into my jacket, plugged it in and hit the road about 7:15 a.m.
A few miles down the road, the blue skies yielded to gray and I began to worry about rain. The few motorcyclists I met were sans rainsuits, so I gambled on staying dry.
At St. Paul, I took I-694 around the north side of the city and hooked up with I-94 on the northwest side of town. The skies gradually cleared and I was soon in sunshine, riding west toward North Dakota.
I stopped for gas at St. Joseph, Minn., at 9:38 a.m. and had a pleasant chat with a couple of local guys gassing their trucks.
Back onto the interstate, I continued toward Fargo, where I stopped for lunch at a McDonald's, cashing in the Big Mac coupon I'd picked up yesterday and paying only 85 cents for a small Coke.
At Fargo, I tried two gas stations, finding that both used ethanol, before I backtracked to an Amoco in downtown Fargo at 1:10 p.m.
I continued to try to listen to the Walkman radio with occasional success when I would find a strong station.
I gassed again at Jamestown at 2:59 p.m. and phone the KOA at Dickinson, N.D., leaving a message that I needed a tent campsite.
Concerned about being able to get non-ethanol fuel, I gassed again at Bismarck at 5:03 p.m. after taking a Wendy's break with a frosty and water.
I arrived at the KOA in Dickinson about 6 p.m. local time, having entered the Mountain Time Zone just west of Bismarck. I was delighted to learn that the $15 tent camping fee also entitled me to a free meatloaf dinner with mashed potatoes, slaw, baked beans and roll.
After dinner, I rode into town and found a Dairy Queen for dessert and gassed at the local Amoco station.
My total mileage for the day was 634. I'd considered pressing on to the next KOA in Montana – there was plenty of good daylight left – but decided against it because I was tired.
I wasn't sure how to proceed the next day and I supposed I'd make for a KOA south of Glacier National Park and try the Canada route again. I needed better weather information, though and hoped for some clues on the radio.
Day 3: Monday, July 22 – Dickinson, N.D., to Polson, Mont.
I was up at 5 a.m. and hit the showers. There was a heavier dew than I expected, forcing me to pack a wet tent. I rolled out of the campground at 6:32 a.m.
As I merged with the westbound lanes of I-94, I fell in behind a brown '85 Honda Gold Wing Aspencade pulling a white trailer with North Dakota plates. We rode in staggered formation until my sleeping bag began to shift and I had to pull off three times to get it right. I wicked it up to 100+ and caught up with the Wing. He led the way to a Flying J Travel Plaza at Beach, N.D.
He introduced himself as Wade Somethingorother and said this would be the last cheap gas ($1.349/gallon) we'd see for awhile, so I topped off.
We rode a ways together, but once we crossed the Montana line and I saw the sign announcing a “reasonable and prudent” speed limit, I blew by him and ran 100+ mph most of the way to Forsyth, slowing only for a construction zone.
I gassed at the Conoco there and got a water and a granola bar for breakfast. Using the pay phone at the station, I tried without success to book bed and breakfast rooms for Tuesday and Wednesday in British Columbia, but did reserve a tent site at the KOA at Polson, Mont., at the south end of Flathead Lake. Wade rolled in just as I was leaving to pick up U.S. 12.
It was nice to re-visit U.S. 12. My previous ride up this road, that runs through range and mountains to Helena had begun at dawn and I was relieved to find less wildlife about at this later hour.
I paused at Rygate for a photo of a banner on the town bar announcing the Testicle Festival and pressed on west.
I stopped for fuel and gas station food at Ray's Sport & Western Conoco Trading Post at Harlowtown.
A short distance west of there, I got a major scare when a deer bolted across the road from the left just in front of a bridge over a creek. I got on the brakes and narrowly missed it.
I stopped a little later to take a breather and shoot some photos of the scenic Musselshell River.
I was pretty fried as I rode through Helena and got into a construction detour. I gassed on the west side of town and followed U.S. 12 west to I-90 and on to Missoula where I gassed again and rode north on U.S. 93.
I kept thinking I had picked too ambitious a riding goal, but the weather was good and there was plenty of daylight left, so why not ride?
I reached the Polson KOA about 7:30 p.m. and set up on a spot overlooking Flathead Lake and the mountains to the east. It was a gorgeous spot – probably the most spectacular campsite I've ever had at a KOA. I also discovered the showers were the most luxurious I'd seen at a KOA. Cost: $17 plus tax.
As I wrote in my journal at the campsite picnic table, the mountains were getting the last of the sun about 9 p.m.
I called Brenda's Bed and Breakfast at Valemount, B.C., speaking to Brenda's sister. I booked a room for Wednesday and got from her the number for Barbara Lynn's Bed and Breakfast in Fernie, B.C. I phoned Barbara Lynn's and made a reservation for tomorrow night.
Dinner was at McDonald's.
I turned in, looking forward to a nice cool night's sleep and a light – 250+/- mile day tomorrow. I covered 728 miles today.
Day 4: Tuesday, July 23 – Polson, Mont., to Fernie, B.C.
I was up at 5 a.m. again, awakened by the gradual lightening of the sky. The KOA showers were deserted by the time I got there. The sun was clearing the mountains east of Flathead Lake when I walked back to my campsite. I had everything packed and loaded by 6:39 a.m. and rode into town for an indifferently-served breakfast of raisin bran, toast, juice and coffee. I added a couple of pounds of air pressure to my tires and decided it wasn't time to add oil yet, since the level was still above the dot in the sight glass.
I took U.S. 93 north along the west side of the lake, stopping after a few miles to plug in my jacket lining against the morning forest chill.
At Kalispell, I picked up U.S. 2 east toward Glacier National Park. I gassed at West Glacier, paid my $3 admission at 9:25 a.m. and fell into the line of traffic moving east through the park.
It was a glorious, clear, sunny day in stark contrast with the forest fire smoke that obscured the view when I visited Glacier National Park two years ago. The Going to the Sun Road was alternately awe-inspiring and scary. I passed and photographed a nonchalant mountain goat near the summit of Logan Pass. The gift shop and visitor center at the summit was closed and there was road work just before it.
I stopped at St. Mary for a mocha and a huge chocolate chip cookie after topping off the tank for $1.58.
I gave my gate receipt to a Harley couple who had fled Atlanta and the Olympics. I asked only that they pass this freebie on to another motorcyclist when they reached the west end of the park.
I took the road north, then cut off at Mont. 17 through Glacier and reached the Canadian border about 12:20 p.m. I was mildly disappointed when the young woman running the checkpoint didn't ask to see any identification, since I'd made a point of putting my passport in the inside pocket of my jacket.
I followed Alberta Route 2 north through Waterton Peace Park and into Pincher Creek, where I changed $150 U.S. to $202.95 Canadian.
I picked up Hwy. 3 west, past the Frank Slide site and got to Fernie about 3:30 p.m. I had a cappuccino ice cream cone at a gas station down the street before checking in to Barbara Lynn's new place on the main drag. The cost was $40 CDN, but the facilities were nicer and I got to put the bike in the garage, leaving my camping stuff on the bike. Barbara's mother greeted me, took my money and made sure I understood that it was definitely uncool to wear boots or shoes in the house.
The place had just been built and featured a separate guest section of the house, complete with a bathtub/shower room and a sink/toilet room. There was a day room at the other end of the hall with TV, VCR and a kitchenette.
I dozed in front of the TV for awhile before changing clothes and heading down the street to Rip & Richard's for a fabulous dinner of strips of sautéed chicken and prawns, snow peas, sun dried tomatoes, mushrooms, black olives in a pesto cream sauce with basil and artichoke hearts all on a bed of pasta. I washed it down with a couple of pints of dark beer from an area B.C. brewery, walking out with a serious buzz.
It was a great day and only 288 miles, but they were quality miles.
I returned to find Barbara Lynn Bowles in the garage discussing with a workman how to install a sprinkler system after the lawn had already been sodded today.
I went upstairs and watched the Olympics for awhile and Barbara came up for a chat. She also brought breakfast so her elderly mother wouldn't have to get up to serve me at 6:30 a.m.
I turned in about 10:30, setting my alarm for 5 a.m. The room was stuffy and the bed was a little small, but it was nice not to be in a tent. Today was a good one.
Day 5: Wednesday, July 24 – Fernie, B.C., to Valemount, B.C.
I was up at 5 a.m. and noticed that my right hip was giving me a little more discomfort than usual. In using the shower, discovered that the electrician had put the switches for the light and exhaust fan out in the hallway, making it possible to plunge a bather into total darkness. An interesting feature.
After a hearty breakfast of porridge, apple juice, muffins and coffee, I loaded the bike in the garage.
Barbara's mother came down to close the garage door behind me as I rolled the bike out onto the street about 7 a.m. I took a photo of the house before gassing at a 7-11 down the street.
I forgot to reset the Fuel Plus gas percentage and, when I discovered my mistake a few miles later, worried that I might have to re-calibrate it. I topped off again and reset the Fuel Plus about 45 miles down the road.
It was a beautiful, sunny, clear day – the perfect day for a ride in the Canadian Rockies.
I turned east at Radium Hot Springs, paid my $5 CDN admission fee and entered Kootenay National Park. Two years ago, I rode this stretch in the rain and saw nothing. Today was different: the scenery was gorgeous and the ground was carpeted so thickly in places with daisies that, from a distance, they looked like snow.
I stopped at one point to get a photo of the bike, the daisies, a mountain stream and a distant cascading waterfall.
I decided to skip Banff and ride directly to Lake Louise, since my recollection of Banff was of a traffic-clogged tourist shopping place.
The crowds at Lake Louise were lighter than before and I found a motorcycle space in the nearest parking lot to the lake. I parked next to a rented BMW R100R ridden by a couple from Germany.
The lake was in shadow from clouds, so I went into the hotel to kill some time and find lunch. I bought two 36-exposure rolls of Agfa film, then went to the hotel deli where I ordered a tuna salad sandwich and a café mocha. I took my lunch back to the lake, where I sat on a bench and admired the view and watched the passersby. It was a very international crowd and in a few minutes' time, it was possible to hear six or seven different languages being spoken.
I noticed the sound of an alphorn and went to investigate. I found a guy dressed in lederhosen playing an alphorn and yodeling, savoring the echo of his song as it came back across the lake from the mountains to the west. He was also accepting donations in exchange for posing with tourists and I got a couple of shots of him with a Japanese couple.
On the way out of the Lake Louise area, I gassed at an Esso station and phoned AOL internet friend Susan Jarvis in Seattle, getting an offer of bedroll space at her apartment.
The ride north up the valley was magnificent and I found myself wishing I had a passenger with whom to share the experience.
About this point, I noticed the odometer read 79,999. As the bike turned over 80,000, I rode the 80,001st mile standing on the pegs to honor this machine that has shown me so much of North America and so much about myself.
The 80,000 mile mark was the last major milestone for my previous bike, a 1981 R100RS, before I moved up to the K100RS and sold the R-bike. At this historic moment, I met an R100RS headed south on the Jasper-Banff highway. It was as if I were meeting myself and I took it as a sort of affirmation that all was right with the universe.
I stopped at the Columbia Ice Fields and climbed to the foot of the Athabasca
Glacier. It was a considerable hike and a reminder that I should be in better shape. The ice was gritty and riddled with fissures and crevasses. Scores of tourists, me included, ignored the signs to stay off of the glacier and I found an obliging woman to take a picture of me on ice.
Back on the road north, I stopped to look at elk and to photograph a bunch of mountain goats loitering on either side of the highway for tourists.
I got to Jasper about 5 p.m. and gassed. I added almost all of the remaining quart of oil I'd brought from home and figured it would get me to BMW of Portland.
Riding west out of Jasper, I was startled to see a huge bull elk on the south side of the road, being shadowed by two cars on the berm. I decided against stopping for a picture, since he was as big as a car and had a huge rack of antlers.
Cruising into the Pacific Time Zone, I arrived at Ken and Brenda McKenzie's bed and breakfast just north of Valemount about 5:30 p.m. Hearing me ride in, they came out to greet me like a long-lost friend.
They invited me to stay for dinner, along with Brenda's sister. Ken made a beer run into town and Brenda baked an apple pie. Dinner was homemade beef sausage from a relative's farm and fried potatoes.
We watched most of a videotaped episode of “Roots” before I crawled off to a good night's sleep. After a 450-mile day, it was almost like coming home.
Day 6: Thursday, July 25 – Valemount, B.C., to Seattle
I got up about 5:45 a.m. and showered and packed, then did my journal entry from the previous day while Brenda made breakfast. I ate with her and Ken and tried to undo some of the misconceptions about the U.S. left by a militia-type from Maine.
Brenda's sister took a couple of photos of us on the front porch and I was off at 8:21 a.m. south on the Yellow Head Highway. It was another gorgeous morning for a ride. I stopped for gas about 100 miles later and removed my jacket liner.
I got to Kamloops about 11:30 and had a quick Esso station lunch of chili before hitting the road again. I'd been watching my Canadian money. Brenda's was $50 and I had used all but a handful of change at the $5 toll booth near Chilliwack.
I found myself following a Harley rider in Hell's Angels colors out of the tool booth and saw him again in Hope where I bought the last of my expensive Canadian gas.
I pulled over to a pay phone at the gas station to call Susan – she was out of the office – and when I hit the starter button again, nothing happened. All of the electrics seemed to be working. I remembered Theresia Shearer's experience with dirty starter contacts at Morganton a week earlier and tried the fix she used. I put it in first gear and rolled back against the gear train. I thumbed the starter button again and the engine lit up. Aha!
I crossed the U.S. border at Sumas and rode to a gas station to call Archey Shearer at BMW Motorcycles of Indianapolis – it being about 7:15 p.m. or so in Indianapolis on a Thursday, the one night of the week the shop is open late.
He confirmed my suspicions and suggested I get the starter looked at in Portland. He also recommended an oil change, since I'd come more than 3,000 miles so far.
I called Susan and got directions to her apartment in Seattle.
Traffic on I-5 was crazy but I quickly adapted and got off at the appropriate exit. I found the apartment with just a little confusion and met Susan and her girlfriend from Spokane, Sarah. We went out to dinner by a marina and I was in bed by 11:30 p.m. My mileage for the day totaled 507
Day 7: Friday, July 26 – Seattle to Portland
I slept in until almost 7 a.m. I showered and packed and got a cup of coffee and did my journal entry on Susan's patio.
She came out and we chatted for awhile. I checked my e-mail on America Online using her laptop.
I finally got rolling at 9:07 a.m. and easily found my way through downtown Seattle to I-5.
I gassed at Tacoma, then stopped for breakfast another 30 or so miles down the road. Traffic was heavy, but mostly fast and the weather was sunny and warm.
I crossed the Oregon state line at 1:08 p.m. and was at Sean's by 1:30 p.m. I found the key were he said it would be and let myself in through the side door. I phoned Aloha BMW and arranged to drop the bike off there this afternoon for service tomorrow.
Sean was running late, so I arranged to meet him at the bike shop and I set off in 95 degree heat and 4 p.m. traffic for Aloha on the southwestside of the Portland metropolitan area.
Sean got there about 10 minutes after I arrived. We grabbed a frosty at a Wendy's down the street, filled the tank of his car and headed home.
Sean and I had dinner at a Thai restaurant and rented a couple of videos – “The Invisible Agent” and the Wallace and Gromit classic, The Wrong Trousers. I gave up about 11:30 p.m. and went to bed. The total mileage for the day was 228.
Day 8: Saturday, July 27 – Portland
I woke up about 6 a.m. and learned from National Public Radio there had been a pipe bombing at the Olympics. I did a couple of loads of laundry and did 20 minutes of Transcendental Meditation in hopes of loosening up the stressed muscles in my lower back and right hip.
We got moving about 10:30 a.m. and had breakfast at an outdoor cafe in the Hollywood district.
Sean and I went to the Baghdad Theatre to see “Mystery Science Theater: The Movie,” then out for pizza and watched the Olympics.
Day 9: Sunday, July 28 – Portland
I got up and showered and made coffee and had a good long talk with Sean on the front porch about relationships and his worries about having to move if the house he rents is sold.
We hiked to the top of the hill to the north of his place for a bagel and mocha breakfast.
I spent much of the afternoon hanging out and watching the Olympics.
We had dinner at Bistro Montage and then on to the Lloyd Theatre to see The Rock.
Getting lots of sleep here.
Day 10: Monday, July 29 – Portland
I got up a little later and made an appointment with Sean's chiropractor, Dr. David Bohrer. We went to breakfast at a little place up the hill, then drove out by the airport where Dr. Bohrer worked on my back and hip. I felt about the same the rest of the day.
In the afternoon, Sean and I returned a beer keg and hung out on the near northwestside of town in the “Village” area.
Sean and his girlfriend Melinda went to a Neil Diamond concert in the evening. I had a Wendy's dinner, watched TV and went to bed early.
Day 11: Tuesday, July 30 – Portland
I was up and ready to roll at 7 a.m.
We went to Old Wives' Tales for breakfast (huevos rancheros) and headed for the coast. We turned north on U.S. 101 through Seaside and on to Astoria where I phoned Aloha BMW and found my bike was done. We drove up to Long Beach where we had lunch, then headed south.
Since I'd brought my leathers and helmet, Sean dropped me off at Aloha and went to pick up vegetables from a co-op he had joined.
Jim, the service rep at the BMW dealership, said mine is the highest-mileage 16-valve they've seen. They also pointed out that my centerstand is bent – probably a result of the June tipover. We must have missed it in preparing the insurance claim.
We went to dinner at the Delta Cafe, a restaurant specializing in Southern/Cajun cooking.
Before leaving for dinner, I reserved a tent site for tomorrow night at the KOA at Eureka, Calif. After dinner, I did a couple of loads of laundry and went to bed about 11 p.m.
Day 12: Wednesday, July 31 – Portland to Eureka, Calif.
I was up before 6 a.m. and Sean improvised a food processor-ground cup of coffee for me. He helped me load and, after pictures and good-byes, I was off about 7:15 a.m.
I gassed at the Chevron station at 47th and Sandy and rolled out into the street exactly at 7:30 a.m. As I sat in the traffic waiting to enter the freeway, I discovered from the reflection (or lack of one) on the back of the vehicle in front of me, that I'd lost the high beam on my headlight. Even though I was carrying a stock replacement 55-watt high beam bulb, I decided to look for an auto parts store to buy a 100-watt high beam for the sake of conspicuity and safety.
I stopped a little after 8 a.m. at a Denny's for breakfast at Woodburn, Ore. I was back on the road about 8:30, still struggling with hip and back discomfort and trying to get comfortable.
I pulled off at Cottage Grove to look for familiar scenes from “Animal House,” parts of which were filmed there. I recognized the Main Street as the setting for the Faber College homecoming parade, but nothing else looked familiar.
On my way back to I-5, I noticed a NAPA auto parts store and went in in quest of a new headlight bulb. I bought an 80/100-watt H-4 bulb for $10 and change and struggled for about 15 minutes trying to install it before I realized the 80/100 version has a little projection on the base that presumably keeps it from being used on street bikes. The counter man at NAPA used side snips to clip off the projection and it slipped right into the bracket. I was back on the road about 11:45 a.m.
I gassed again at 12:44 near Eugene and stopped at a McDonalds at Medford for lunch. I topped off again at the last Ashland exit and rode on south into California.
It was a little after 3 p.m. and I was almost 330 miles from Portland when I turned off onto the Calif. 96-Klamath River Highway exit. I was tired and sore and hot and didn't think I would enjoy the 192 miles of twisties in front of me. It made for a long afternoon, but I rode some good curves, even considering how I was feeling.
I stopped for a Gatorade and three aspirin at Soames' Bar, then pressed on to gas at Willow Creek before the final push to the coast.
About seven miles from Arcata, I stopped to put the liner into my jacket and put on my deerskin gauntlet gloves. The temperature had dropped from the high 90s to the mid-50s.
I got onto U.S. 101 and headed south, finding the Eureka KOA with only a little difficulty. I checked in about 8 p.m., put up my tent and rode to dinner at Arcata.
The soil at the KOA was very shallow over what appeared to be a hard-pan surface.
With the cool weather and the warm sleeping bag, I expected to sleep well. I'd covered 535 miles today and was glad to be back on the road. Even though I enjoy spending time with Sean, I was feeling stale and needed to get moving again.
Day 13: Thursday, Aug. 1 – Arcata, Calif., to Sacramento, Calif.
Today was a day of variety and extremes. I woke up about 5:45 a.m. and was back from the showers by 6. There was heavy fog – so heavy I could feel the droplets as I struck camp, but I packed a dry tent. Even the ground cloth went into the stuff sack dryer than it came out last night. I punched the starter button exactly at 7 a.m. and rode to a Pantry restaurant next to the Motel 6 where I had stayed two years ago.
I got onto the road south at 8 a.m. and soon had my heated electric clothing – including gloves for the first time this trip – going.
I broke away from U.S. 101 onto Calif. 1 at Leggett and was reminded anew what a great road this is from U.S. 101 to the coast. I got a picture of the bike in front of a sign announcing curves for the next 22 miles. The curves were tight and closely-spaced but predictable as I rode from dark to light to dark again in the forested mountain terrain. Other than an occasional piece of redwood bark from a logging truck, the road was clean. I noticed car drivers consistently pulled over for me – courtesy or my 80-watt low beam?
As I approached the coast, the cold fog returned and I was glad I'd left the liner in my jacket.
Just north of Fort Bragg, I stopped to get photos of a wrecker crew pulling a demolished black Mitsubishi Eclipse from the cliff side. The wrecker guys said it was a fatality.
I filled up with $1.899 gas at Fort Bragg and continued south.
Just south of Albion, I decided there was no reason to ride a road I'd done before, especially since it was cold and foggy.
I turned inland on Calif. 128 and found myself in a state park filled with dense redwood forest. At places, the trees were so thick and tall that it was almost as dark as night. The road was alternately curvy through the forest and tight twisties.
Eventually, the land opened up into wine country, with a winery every mile or two offering tastes of their products.
I rejoined U.S. 101 at Cloverdale after a fun run through swooping curves. I stopped at Cloverdale for a McDonald's lunch and to make some phone calls, including one to my longtime America Online friend Vivian and to the Holiday Inn on the east side of Sacramento – my goal.
Studying the map, I decided to stay on Calif. 128 rather than follow main roads to the San Francisco area and thence to Sacramento. It was a good decision. California 128 took me through the heart of the northern California wine country and, except where it was joined with Calif. 29 around St. Helena, was lightly traveled.
The temperature was in the high 90s by the time I gassed again about 45 miles from Sacramento. I drank a Gatorade and took three aspirin before heading on again.
I found the Holiday Inn with only a little difficulty. The night manager agreed to let me park the bike under the awning by the front door. I covered 365 quality miles today.
Viv phoned from the lobby about 6:30 p.m., as planned. It was nice to finally meet her after chatting for more than a year on the computer. We took her car to a great little restaurant a few miles east of the hotel and had a terrific dinner before returning to the lounge to chat late into the night. I insisted she sit on my bike for a picture.
Day 14: Friday, Aug. 2 – Sacramento, Calif., to Santa Margarita, Calif.
I got a 6 a.m. wakeup call and rolled away from the hotel at 7:20 a.m. I stopped at a nearby BP station to check the air pressure in the tires, but found they had the wrong type of air hose nozzle. Almost as an afterthought, I checked the oil level and was startled to see none showing in the sight glass. I put the better part of a quart in and made a note to try to find the BMW dealer in Monterey to buy another quart of BMW oil.
It was sunny and cool as I rode through Sacramento morning traffic and turned south on I-5. The aim is to arrive at the north end of the Big Sur road around noon to let the morning fog burn off.
About 8:25 a.m., I pulled at the Calif. 12 interchange for breakfast at Rocky's Restaurant: Spanish omelet with Egg Beaters.
Since it was a trucker place, complete with phones in the dining room booths, I used the phone to check in with Mom and touch base with Carol Slack in Palm Springs.
I gassed and checked the air in my front tire. It was 41.5 psi – probably still holding heat from the pre-breakfast run.
I got back onto I-5 and continued south to the Los Banos exit where I took Calif. 152 west past a large reservoir and up into the hills. I picked up Calif. 156 and rode through Hollister before joining U.S. 101 and Calif. 1.
I gassed again at the Chevron in Monterey.
Back onto Calif. 1 and south, stopping at the edge of the Carmel Highlands to put the liner into my jacket.
I was astonished anew at how spectacular the range of colors is here in the Big Sur country. Even though I've been here before, I was like I was seeing it for the first time.
Today is sunny and bright, but a little more mist than when I was here two years ago.
I had that feeling about the mist, and it was confirmed when I looked back at Big Creek Bridge from the same vista where I took my signature bike shot in 1994. I'll take fewer photos today, but will still love the ride.
I stopped at Nepenthe about 1:30 p.m. for a lunch of quesadilla and mocha on the patio.
A Steller's jay scavenged empty tables for crumbs. A woman and her teenage son lunched over a quarrelsome game of chess a the next table while her husband drank coffee and read a paperback.
I got back on to the road, stopping frequently to take pictures or just stare. I met the occasional bike, including a couple of northbound K100RSs – blue followed by silver. I stopped for an iced mocha latte at Lucia and again at Monterey Co. mile marker 6 to take a pic of a house clinging to the cliff, only to hear the barking of seals. I dug my binoculars out of the tankbag and finally found them on a big rock several hundred yards out to sea.
It was about 5 p.m. when I made Morro Bay and headed up Calif. 41 to Atascadero and U.S. 101. I saw no sign of the fire devastation I'd seen on Hwy. 41 two years ago.
After shedding my jacket liner at Atascadero, I rode south and exited 8 miles later at Calif. 58. I followed it into Santa Margarita, then another 9 miles on 58 and county roads to the Santa Margarita KOA. My campsite was in a wooded bowl. Since it was hot, with no rain in sight, I decided to do without the rain fly. Also, the ground was like concrete and tent pegs were not possible.
I covered 415 mostly delightful miles today.
Day 15: Saturday, August 3 – Santa Margarita, Calif., to Palm Springs, Calif.
I slept fitfully, probably because I'd mis-read the slope of the ground and pitched my tent sideways on a slight incline. I was up with the sun and onto the road a little after 7 a.m.
Riding through the endless rolling fields of brown grass toward Santa Margarita in the golden light of the rising sun, I noticed some movement on the left side of the road as a large object dropped from a roadside tree onto the berm.
I immediately recognized it as a golden eagle – faced away from the road, but regarding me with his left eye. The eye flashed yellow in the slanting sunlight and I felt an odd sense in that instant that he knew everything there was to know about me and had shown himself as a benediction to my ride.
I slowed in hope of getting a picture, but a van approaching from the opposite direction violated his comfort zone and he stepped into the air with powerful strokes of his yard-long wings, climbing out and over a brown grassy field.
A few miles south on U.S. 101, I crested a ridge and found myself looking down in to a valley filled with billowy white cloud. It was the morning maritime fog, infiltrating the valleys that run down to the sea. I jammed on the brakes and took a picture before hooking up my electric jacket liner in anticipation of the cold of the fog. I even donned my electric gloves for awhile as I rode through fog for the next hour or so.
I stopped at a Baker's Square in Santa Maria for a very slow, very air conditioned breakfast.
Back on the road, I was in and out of fog all the way to Ventura where I gassed in anticipation of the run across the top of Los Angeles.
The L.A. segment was much easier than I'd expected.
I got off at Burbank and phoned my ex-Mouseketeer friend Doreen Tracey from a Chevron station at Victory and Western, leaving a message on her answering machine.
I got back onto the freeway and gassed again near Beaumont. The 20-mile run through the desert was hot, but not oppressive and I got to Palm Springs about 1:30 p.m. I found Carol's apartment building and she buzzed me in to the gated parking garage.
We went to a sports bar and had burgers, then came back to her place, played Trivial Pursuit, very briefly hit the hot tub, drank and talked til 2 a.m.
Total mileage for the day was 338.
Day 16: Sunday, Aug. 4 – Palm Springs, Calif.
We got up about 9 a.m. and went to breakfast, then to Carol's office where I upgraded her AOL to version 3.0 and disabled the voice cues.
Back at her place, I did laundry. Later in the afternoon, we went to a nearby Indian-run casino where I dropped about $40, then to a late lunch and on to see “Independence Day.”
Back at the apartment, we talked til 11:30, then bagged it for the day.
Day 17: Monday, Aug. 5 – Palm Springs, Calif., to Flagstaff, Ariz.
I woke up about 5:45 a.m. and dozed until the alarm went off at 6. I showered and packed and bumped into Carol on the way to the coffee pot.
I put the remainder of my quart of BMW oil in and brought the level up to just short of full.
After comparing mileage figures, I decided to take the southern route and save about 100 miles. We chatted over coffee for about an hour and then said our good-byes. Carol buzzed open the gate and I rode out under a typical Palm Springs clear sunny sky, with the temperature at 76 at 8:45 a.m.
I stopped at the north end of town to photograph the bike with the hundreds of windmills, then put in ear plugs and ripped east on I-10.
It was pleasant riding with the wind to my back and I was across the California part of the desert by 10:30, stopping for gas and breakfast at a Chevron and a Denny's at Blythe.
I rode east into Arizona for 31 miles, where I picked up U.S. 60 to the northeast.
I stopped at a gas station at Aguila to phone in a reservation to the Flagstaff KOA, then headed out again.
My northeasterly course to Flagstaff involved Arizona 71 to Congress, where I got U.S. 89 to just northeast of Prescott. I gassed at Prescott and then changed to Alt. 89.
Just past Congress, the terrain turned mountainous and I gained and lost altitude with lots of twisties. Unfortunately several miles of otherwise glorious road were compromised by the presence of slippery crack sealer on the pavement.
I discovered Jerome, a mountainside town built on a very steep slope with one main road (Alt. 89) that switch-backs through the town.
I stopped at Cottonwood for water and a Haagen Dazs-sicle, then pressed on to Sedona where I stopped at the city hall annex to inquire about Joe Duckworth, an expatriate from Zionsville, Ind. Unfortunately, the clerk and I were unable to track him down.
The ride through Oak Creek Canyon was beautiful: a classic western canyon ride with forest and creek and steep rock walls. I would have enjoyed it more if I weren't so focused on getting to the KOA by 5 p.m.
I picked up I-17 south of Flagstaff, then I-40 and off at Exit 201 and followed the signs to the Flagstaff KOA.
This turned out to be a very well-run KOA, with lots of amenities, including a snack bar and nightly movies. A kid on a moped escorted me to my site next to a Gold Wing couple from Fremont, Neb.
A Harley rider named Freddie from west Texas brought over four hot dogs as I was finishing setting up my tent. The weather forecast was clear, so I didn't bother to put on on the rain fly.
I covered 386 miles today.
Day 18: Tuesday, Aug. 6 – Flagstaff, Ariz., to Santa Fe, N.M.
The gusting wind awakened me repeatedly during the night and I was awake well ahead of my 5 a.m. alarm. The local ABC FM affiliate reported it was 49 degrees at 5 a.m., but it felt warmer as I walked to and from the showers.
I broke camp and loaded the bike before taking advantage of the $2.65 egg, pancake and sausage breakfast at the KOA.
My oil was low, so I bought a quart of Pennzoil at a Chevron station, but passed on their gasoline because it contained ethanol. I went down the street to top off at a Shell station.
I got onto the road about 7:20 a.m. I was reasonably comfortable with the jacket liner in place.
I stopped about 100 miles down the road at a Shell station/truck stop at Holbrook and topped off again, shedding the liner and buying a bottle of water.
I lost the bottle about 20 miles later, but saved Carol's towel that I'd wrapped it in in a vain attempt to keep a slippery plastic bottle secure with the nylon cargo net.
I paused at Gallup to re-set my watch (Mountain Time Zone) and have a Baskin-Robbins Cappuccino Blast Mocha.
I got a major scare just west of Grants, N.M. when I suddenly realized I'd fallen asleep and found a semitrailer truck in my left mirror about to pass me. I pulled off at Grants to top off and drink a Diet Coke for the caffeine.
At Albuquerque, I left I-40 for I-25 and angled northeast toward Santa Fe.
A few miles south of Santa Fe, I stopped at a tourism information center to get details on the Trinity atomic test site, which I assumed was nearby. I was startled and embarrassed to learn it's down south about 200 miles by Alamagordo – not near Los Alamos. Shit!
I phoned Carol to notify her that the Pilgrimage to Trinity was a bust. I spoke briefly with a Deadhead-ish couple from Michigan, then rode on to the Santa Fe KOA. The tent site seemed adequate and I decided to do another night sans fly.
I rode into Santa Fe and cruised the old shopping district before sweating my way back out of town in rush hour traffic.
The KOA manager had recommended some restaurants, among them a place called Peppers. I found it and had a great enchilada dinner with three Coors Cutters for $14.13 plus $4 tip for a charming waitress.
I topped off the tank at an Asian-run pay-before-pumping station on the way back to the KOA.
All day, I'd been wondering which way to go from here: up to Colorado for a couple of days of mountain riding or east and home. Back at the campground, I yielded to a strong impulse to head for home. I phoned my high school friend Susan Crumbo in Oklahoma City and arranged to crash at her place tomorrow evening. Total mileage today: 434.
Day 19: Wednesday, Aug. 7 – Santa Fe., N.M., to Oklahoma City, Ok.
I was awakened about 5:20 a.m. by the sound (and feel) of raindrops falling on my tent, with no rain fly to catch them.
The sprinkle lasted only a minute, but just to be sure, I threw the fly over the tent before I left for the showers.
The skies had cleared by the time I returned and packing and loading went quickly.
I'd been amused last night when the elderly couple in the Kamping Kabin next to my tent site obsessed for more than an hour looking for the guy's electric shaver. They must have gone through all of their luggage and their white Chrysler minivan (with New Jersey plates) two or three times and the guy even went to the showers to search for it.
As I made the final touches to my loading at 6:30 a.m., I heard the buzzzzzzzzzz of an electric razor from the Kabin. I fought down an urge to shout my congratulations.
I rolled out about 6:35 a.m., jacket liner in place, and paused to get a picture of the giant teal howling coyote with bandanna at the gate of the campground.
I rode down to Pepper's in hopes of getting breakfast there, but discovered they don't open until 7:30 a.m. I had mis-remembered their opening hour as 7.
I doubled back, got onto I-25 and turned off five miles later onto U.S. 285 south. Some 50-60 miles later, I picked up I-40 east at Cline's Corners.
Shortly after 8 a.m., my trip meter indicated I had ridden 6,000 miles since leaving home. I celebrated with a Homer Simpson “woo-hoo” and a pat of thanks to the bike's gas tank.
I stopped at Santa Rosa for huevos rancheros at the Santa Fe Grille, finishing about 9 a.m.
Clouds to the east of Santa Rosa suggested rain and caused me to notice, with some amazement, that I hadn't even seen my rainsuit since I left home almost three weeks ago.
Before leaving Santa Rosa, I gassed at a Shell station on the east edge of town.
Just before the Texas line, I ran into light rain. I tucked in and rode a couple of miles through it as the rain fluctuated in intensity.
Finally, I saw an unmistakable wall of heavy rain about a half-mile ahead. I pulled over and climbed into my rainsuit, getting suited up and the rain cover over the tankbag just as the rain reached me.
It was a heavy enough rain that I was very glad I'd decided to suit up. The storm was only about 10-15 miles deep and, about 25 miles into Texas, I stopped again to stash the suit, along with my jacket liner.
I'd noticed earlier in the day on U.S. 285 that one of the snaps had broken on my left cuff air scoop. It will be easily fixable when I get home.
I topped off the tank at a Love's Truck Stop at Amarillo and droned on east.
I pulled off at a Dairy Queen at Shamrock, Texas, and had a mint M&M Blizzard. I found myself sitting next to a booth with a couple and two kids named Zoe and Eli. Good luck with those names, kids.
As I crossed the Oklahoma line, the colors of the landscape changed abruptly from browns to greens – a very dramatic shift in a very short distance.
Somewhere east of the Oklahoma line, I noticed my sleeping bag had shifted down over my tail light, so I whipped onto the berm, corrected it and was off again.
About 20 miles into Oklahoma, I was running low on gas. It also seemed my exhaust was unusually loud. I pulled into the Love's Truck Stop at Exit 71. Stopping at the pump, I took off my helmet and removed my earplugs with the engine still running. Jeez, Louise! There was definitely something wrong with my Staintune exhaust system.
I found the whole front end of the muffler had ripped loose, leaving the bulk of the muffler hanging by a single clamp. The break was a jagged tear through the metal and didn't appear to follow any seam or weld.
I gassed, paid and phoned Archey in Indianapolis. He pointed out that Staintunes have a three-year warranty and that there is a BMW dealer in Oklahoma City.
I phoned Jeff at Staintune (California BMW at Mountain View) and explained the problem. Then I called Maxie's Honda-Yamaha-BMW, worried that I might be too late in the day – it was right at 5 p.m.
I talked to Larry Anderson, who seemed to think they could install a new muffler if Staintune could get it to them by Friday at the latest. Then I called Jeff back and he assured me one would be on the way ASAP.
I chatted with some motorcyclists – two guys who worked for Roadway Trucking (a BMW rider and a Gold Wing rider) and a couple of Harley riders who were admiring my bike at the curb.
One of the H-D guys couldn't believe I had 83,000 miles on the odometer.
I phoned Susan Crumbo's place and her boyfriend, Guy answered. I told him I'd be a little late, then got onto the road, riding conservatively and avoiding bumps for the next 70-plus miles in hopes the muffler would stay attached.
After a little confusion, I found Susan and Guy's place and was welcomed with beer and tenderloin pork roast.
Her son, Todd, is also living with her, so I bunked on the living room couch. It was comfortable enough. I covered 550 miles today.
Day 20 : Thursday, Aug. 8 – Oklahoma City, Ok.
I took the bike over to Maxie's and dropped it off in the care of Larry Anderson. Susan took me down to the Federal Building blast site and to lunch at Bricktown before we returned to her place and dozed in front of the TV.
When Guy got home, we went up to the northside to see some hot air balloons assembled for a festival we'd seen on the evening news.
Total miles: 10
Day 21: Friday, Aug. 9 – Oklahoma City, Ok., to Springfield, Mo.
I accompanied Susan as she ran errands and I bought breakfast at a southside cafe. Larry Anderson called about 2:30 p.m. to report the bike was done.
The parts, of course, were free under warranty and I paid about $47 for labor.
I loaded up and rolled out at 3:52 p.m. I'd only been on the road a few minutes when I noticed my right turn signals were on solid and wouldn't cancel.
I worried even more when I gassed and found the ignition switch had no effect on the recalcitrant turn signal. I tried to call Archey, but it was 5:20 p.m. and the shop was closed. I rode on another 80 minutes or so and stopped again to call California BMW.
Eli Ohlhausen suggested it was a bad relay. He said I could probably ride, but to disconnect the negative battery cable if I stopped, so as not to wipe out the battery.
I gassed again near Joplin, Mo. I finally gave up at Springfield, Mo., getting a $31 Motel 6 room and disconnecting the battery cable. I rode 316 miles today.
Day 22: Saturday, Aug. 10 – Springfield, Mo., to Carmel, Ind.
In hope of getting home before the post office closed at noon, thereby being able to collect my vacation mail before next Monday, I left a wakeup call for 4 a.m.
When the call came, I rolled over and went back to sleep for a couple of hours, deciding it was pointless to knock myself out just to get a bunch of junk mail two days early.
I loaded the bike, re-connected the battery and hit the road at 6:30 a.m.
Riding into the rising sun wasn't too bad, since clouds intervened to block the sun at the lowest part of its arc.
I stopped at a McDonald's after about an hour for a quick bacon-egg-and-cheese biscuit and coffee before heading east again.
I gassed at Sullivan, Mo., and bought a four-pack of AA batteries for my Walkman, killing the boredom of Missouri with a cassette.
Riding through St. Louis, I found the link with I-70 south of the Arch and crossed the Mississippi to the land of radio stations starting with W.
I stopped for gas a last time at Effingham, Ill., and phoned Archey to see if there was any point in riding directly to the BMW shop for a fix on the turn signal. He said they'd probably need to order a relay, so I opted to ride home.
I pulled into my carport at 2:47 p.m.
Total mileage for the day: 483.
Total mileage for the trip: 7,265.
