Thank You

I'd like to take just a moment to thank you for taking the time to read my blog. In a short period of time Ride White Lines has hit 100 unique visitors from all over the world. I know that this may not be huge by some blog standards but I appreciate the views and I hope you have enjoyed the adventures so far.

Thank you!

Ride Safe,
Whiteline

Day 2 Morning Entry

Morning comes too quickly after the day before but we've all agreed that we still need to make up time from the previous day.  Up at 5:30 and gone by 6:30, first stop: Moab.  We roll out of the Desert Rose and head north, the morning is absolutely gorgeous for riding.  The sun is just rising casting it's colors across the desert and the air is nice and crisp, it has that fresh taste and smell to it that you don't and can't get in the city.  The first part of the trip to Moab runs us along the river and through some twisting winding roads up out of the valley and to the desert plateau above.  We've all agreed that the first leg of the trip will be non-stop to Moab, about 100 miles, we'll run hard while we're fresh and try to push early to catch up on lost time.
 
We did the first 100 in under an hour and a half.  Good time, easy run.  The morning was going wonderfully.  We had just ridden through some of the most amazing landscape; Moab, Canyon Lands, Arches National - all of which made for simply amazing scenery - even if it was at 75 mph.  We quickly find a local cafe and grab a ton of breakfast.  I like to seek out places where I can get some really good biskets and gravy with tobasco sauce along with my personal pot of coffee. 

When we ride, we try not to eat at a chain restaurants too often, the group likes to explore a bit and enjoy the local feel of the towns we're in.  Breakfast is over and the group is feeling great about the day ahead.  We've got some really nice riding ahead of us.  Moab north to Interstate 70, we'll head west - back tracking just a bit to catch 191/6 North to Price/Helper, up through the canyons to Vernal, along side of Flaming Gorge and up into Kemmerer, Wyoming where we had planned to stop for the night. This route, not only is it beautiful to ride it was also going to take us about 400 miles in 8 hours of easy riding - a good days ride with the opportunity to push it farther depending on the time we were making and how the group felt near the end.  We were off to a good start getting the first 100 miles in and it was just 8:00 in the morning.  The day was looking promising.  

If you've read along this journey you know that I've said before, and it needs to be said again... "Man Plans - God Laughs", it will hold true throughout this trip.

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Motorcycle traveling

Motorcycle Oils vs. Automotive Oils

When I replaced my 95 FLHTCUI with a newer bike I decided to get another road warrior - I went with the base model FLH so that I could do the custom work to it (over time) that I wanted and not feel like I had to undo everything that the factory had done prior to me buying it. The first thing I did was look at the oil - I had heard a lot about using Synthetic versus traditional M/C oils - reduced wear, cleaner starts after sitting for a while, and on and on. So I began the research. That's when I ran across this article from MCN (Motorcycle Consumer News) not only did it help me with my decision but it caused me to rethink the way that I buy motor oil for my bikes. I had been one who had bought into the sales pitches that they talk about in the article - not any longer - thanks MCN for the great research and information!

Here's the full article.

And MCN's summary is:

Despite more than six months of research, reading all the claims and counter-claims printed by dozens of industry experts and lubrication experts, MCN cannot and does not purport to know all there is to know about the differences between automotive and motorcycle oils. However, what we do know is that we can find no substantive evidence that using a high-quality, name-brand automotive oil in an average street motorcycle is in any way harmful or less effective in providing proper lubrication and protection than using the more expensive, motorcycle-specific oils.

My summary:

Save your penny's brothers & sisters - you don't need that $4.99 quart of Harley oil when buying your oil fromPep Boys, Checker Auto or any other auto parts house will do just fine - the bonus is, you'll have enough left over for a couple of beers afterwards!

Ride safe, Whiteline

Day 1 - End of the day - Riding through Hell

Little did we know the price we were about to pay for our admission in to God's light and color spectacular... The thunder and lightning intensified and the winds began to pick up, it wasn't long before the rain began to come down. The problem that we were having was not in making the decision to push on or not, at this point we had no choice. We were near the Northern edge of Monument Valley, to far north to turn back and not far enough to be close to shelter for the night. It's nearing 8:00 pm and we've been on the road now for 12 hours, tired from everything that we've been through; worn out from the heat and the hours of riding. A quick group meeting on the side of the road and we've decided that Mexican Hat can't be that far away and surely there will be a place we can stay for the night. Unfortunately no one in our group has anyone ever ridden these roads before so there's no certainty to our decision. We put our greenhorn rider out in the front of the pack - a quick senior meeting and we've decided that we're all safer with him up front. A decision that later will cause us some worry and a bit of frustration.

Riding through the middle of the desert, there aren't any streetlights, and there's nothing in the distance that we can get a visual on that even remotely looks like it might be a town or some sign of life. The occasional flash of lightning to give us a glimpse of what's around us and then causes us to be temporarily blind as the light gives way to the complete darkness of the desert night.

The rains are now pouring from the heavens and the temperatures are dropping into the low 70's. Between the rain and our glasses / goggles now beginning to fog over seeing the road has gotten to be difficult at best.
We slow our speed to 30 - 35 mph and do our best to literally follow the white lines which are now submerged under the water that is running down and over nearly all of the road that we are travelling.

Continuing to push forward we can tell that we are climbing but we don't know how much or on what kind of road we're on. We don't know if there's a shear edge or rolling desert just off the roads edge. Slowly we make our way north, hoping that the rains let up soon. Still no signs of life or shelter. The lightning along with the rain has intensified and our periods of temporary blindness have become more frequent causing us to slow even more.

Riding in a staggered formation we're doing good to still see the tail lights of the bikes ahead of us. We are constantly loosing sight of the rookie rider who's out in front; none of us are sure if he's riding too fast and risking his safety in the process. The roads begin to curve back and forth, we must be riding in a canyon or up a mountain, or maybe down - it's nearly impossible to tell. We have lost sight of the bikes ahead of us only to find them again when the road offers a straight away for more than a few hundred yards. The water is pouring down the road now, we know we are climbing, the road snakes back and forth, one bend after another. Lightning flashes as we round a bend and in the flash we see a cow standing on the side of the road not more than 5' from where we are, thankfully the cow is just as surprised to see us as we are to see her. She doesn't move and we bend on by, our hearts beating just a beat faster than before.

We crest the mountain that we've been climbing and now the water runs down the road with us. The rains continue to pour on us soaking us through our leathers. Mexican Hat at last! Pulling in to the General Store / Gas Station we seek shelter from the rain and a room for the night. The group quickly parks and heads into the store, looking our road wear drenched best we ask if there's a room in town that the clerk may know about? Someplace, anyplace at all that we can stay for the night. No such luck, the only hotel is sold out there's some sort of river rafting event going on a a couple of white water clubs have the place booked solid. We're told that there's a place called Bluff about 30 miles or so down the road and we should have better luck there. 30 more miles, it might as well have been 300 more the way we were feeling and as hard as it was raining. It was after 9:00 now and the group wasn't in a big hurry to get soaked again, we decided that a few minutes to hopefully let the storm pass or slow wouldn't make that big of a difference. Something to drink, a snack, some discussion (mainly all of us bitching and complaining) and we decided it was time to get on the road, the storm seemed to have let up all that it was going to for the time being and we needed to get to Bluff to see if our day was going to end.

Two miles down the road the rains begin to pound down hard once again. Are we ever going to make it through this day! Once again we've lost our lead rider, he's long gone. Occasionally we'll see a flick of his tail light but it's just a speck on the horizon. The sky opens fully and lets loose with all the rain it had been holding, the winds blow between 20 and 30 mph, and we slow once again. There were points in this stretch where I literally could not see the road. I guessed where it was and when it curved. Each of the riders still with the group put some distance between the other; using each other as gauges for where the road was (and wasn't). I think at this point of the day my wife was quietly crying on the back of the bike. I know she was scared, although I don't think she ever said she was. Day one of her first cross country motorcycle trip... Good Lord I hope day 2 is better!

A light in the distance and it's growing brighter! Heaven has come to earth and we couldn't be more glad. Bluff is clearly in our sights. Coming in to Bluff from the West the first thing we ran in to was the Desert Rose. The Desert Rose had just been opened a few months before our arrival and was far more than we could have ever hoped. When we rode up we were in the worst shape that you could imagine, tired, soaked, road worn and we looked every part of it. The three guy's walked into the lobby; leathers dripping rain, jeans and boots soaked, faces sunburned and raccoon eyes from our sun glasses - we looked like hell. Without much hesitation we explained what we had been through and begged for a room -
even if that room was just a couch in the lobby. The lady at the desk was more than polite, extremely helpful and promptly took care of us - three rooms at a discounted rate. After we checked in it didn't look like the storm was going to pass any time soon so she asked if we'd like to keep our bikes in front under the overhang by the office for the night - this in part to keep them out of the elements and I'm sure in part because the parking lot wasn't completed yet. Regardless it was an extra mile that they didn't need go and they did. The staff and accommodations were top notch - so much so that the group would make Desert Rose a destination a few years later.

Day 1 - Evening Journal Entry - Monument Valley Monsoon

North we went, riding the white lines hard from Flagstaff, AZ towards the exit to Tuba City. Once again trying to out run the Monsoon storms and the impending nightfall. Our day had been long enough as it was and not a one of us wanted to extend it in to the night. Fortunately once you get on the north side of Flagstaff the road runs straight for miles - dead straight - so it's easy to open it up and run 85 to 90mph and we did, trying to make up minutes from the hours that we'd lost earlier in the day. Before we knew it we were taking the exit East towards Tuba City, still running hard and clicking the miles away. We took our 75 mile stretch breaks and we tried to push them up to the 100 - 125 mile mark or until our backsides started complaining too loudly. Time for gas and a break in Tuba City and once again we began to feel better about the distance we'd put between us and the morning.

East of Tuba City the road runs through some of the Northern Arizona Plateu Canyons making for a senic ride as you wind your way through the rock formations. The clouds overhead blocked just enough sunlight to add a nice coloration to the landscape with the occassional single ray of white light that was allowed to pass through the heavens to the earth making for some spectacular lighting, all of it seemed to be for our enjoyment. We would like to think that it was a nice visual reward for the hell we had been through that morning.

Pounding farther east and north towards Kayenta and Monument Valley the clouds had started to rain just enough to dampen the road and take the edge back off of the Arizona heat. Making the last few miles into Kayenta a bit more pleasent. The group rolled in to Kayenta about an hour before sunset giving us time to grab a bite to eat, re-evaluate our situation, plan or re-plan the last part of our day and relax for a bit. None of us could believe what a day it had been and considered the option of getting a room at the Holiday Inn just across the road. Sometimes it would be best if this group would listen to their instincts, but as it was we all decided that we'd lost so much time it would be best to push into the evening and get as far as we could on day one.


Leaving the Burger King we turn north and head in to Monument Valley. For all the struggles the group encountered throughout the day it seemed as if the Travel God's were going to shine on us for the remainder of the way.

If you have ever seen Monument Valley first hand you can understand what we were experiencing, there's nothing quite like riding the wind in to a cloud filled sunset with all of natures glory around you. This was, without a doubt, the most spectacular ride of our entire journey across the Western United States. We began riding north through the valley as the sun was setting to the west of us. Sunlight painting the clouds and the valley with a thousand shades of reds, yellows and blues. The monsoon coulds towering all around us added a dramatic effect to natures lighting. It seemed as if the colors of the world danced everywhere we looked. It's no wonder that the Navajo chose to settle in this part of the country.

We're starting to feel like the road gremlins were gone, and the travel Gods have given us a "pass" with each bend in the road offering something new to take our breath away. The Valley started to grow dark with the setting sun and the lightning started to flash along the valley's northern edge adding an increadible touch to the show that nature had been giving us. The sound of our Harley's rolling across the desert floor were soon being drowned out by the Thunder rolling across the northern skies. Little did we know the price we were about to pay for our admission in to God's light and color spectacular.

Tuba City, Flagstaff, Holiday Inn, Monument Valley, Kayenta, Monsoon Clouds, riding the white lines

McCain in Sturgis - what's up with that?

I have to take a break from my stories from the road to offer my observation on AZ Sen. John McCain and his popping in to the Buffalo Chip during the Sturgis Rally... I found this a bit amusing - John, just a little advice when your talking to us - don't offer your wife up for Miss Buffalo Chip... John,.... you did what?! You're kidding,.......right? Did she slap you when you got off the stage? What were you thinking? Better yet what were your handlers thinking. What dim-witt, that had spent too much time on the "Straight Talk Express" sipping exhaust fumes, came up with the idea to 1) take you to Sturgis and 2) let you talk from the cuff at the Buffalo Chip. John, offering Cindy up to the crowd doesn't make you cool, hip, young or any more popular. In fact, just the opposite.

What made him decide to pander to the biker world and go to Sturgis for the rally. Nice. We didn't see him last year or the year before - didn't see him in the "Last ride of the Century" or the "First ride of the New Millenium". I didn't see him in the first annual "We'll Never Forget - 9/11" Rally in Arizona, I don't see him on the streets riding his scooter anywhere... John, do you own a motorcycle?.. John, my homeboy Presidential Candidate, what's up? Is Obama got you so bad that you needed to call in the bikers for security? Are you assuming that the world of bikers is primarily republican and you can get some cheap votes? John, John, John, this crowd is not filled with cheap votes and honestly, we don't like to be pandered to. Yes, we all appreciate what you've done for our country, and yes, John, we all appreciate and applaud your courage, determination and dignity while serving, and as a POW, in Nam. But John, this just looks like a cheap ass publicity stunt and fodder for the late night talk shows.

LA Times: "McCain is the first presidential candidate to attend Sturgis -- ever -- "
By Bob Drogin, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
August 5, 2008

ABC News: McCain Gaffes, Volunteering Wife For Topless Contest
ABC News' Gregory Wallace and Sara Just Report: Sen. John McCain, R-Az., perhaps unknowingly, volunteered his wife for a beauty pageant....

The Wall Street Journal: Party On, McCain: Senator Campaigns at Sturgis Motorcycle Rally....

Pensito Review: McCain’s Sturgis Speech Worse Than ‘Dean Scream’ - But His Media ‘Base’ Gives Him a Pass


John McCain, Biker World, Rally in Arizona, Obama, Sturgis, stories from the road

Day 1 - Mid Day Journal Entry (part 3)

Depart Phoenix at 8:00 - 8:30 am, mechanicals keep us in the valley until 12:30 the "departed" on the highway and the rain storm delay us even farther, we finally hit Flagstaff around 3:00 in the afternoon. What should have been a nice 3 - 3 1/2 hour ride took us 7 hours! Finally we arrive in Flagstaff, it's a quick dash throught the city to get us to the north side of town. Time to fuel, grab a quick drink & snack and reset our plans.

Trashing our original plan of trying to make Moab that evening was our first order of business. As planning hadn't worked very well for the group so far we decided that we would ride as hard and as far as we could, or until our wives decided that we needed to call it good for the day.

I have to hand it to the laies in the group - each and everyone of them earned their stripes on this trip. My wife had NEVER been on a road trip longer than a 3 or 4 hour ride to our destination (and of course the return trip back). On this trip, day one, she'd already been through more than she's ever experienced on motorcycle and she's still smiling. Remember, it's only day one and the fatigue of riding mile after mile hasn't set in yet.

Being around three in the afternoon we figured we had another 4 or 5 hours of riding the white linesfor the day - max - and then we would be cooked. This should put us someplace on the north side of Monument Vally - where? We weren't quite sure of that but we knew we had to go through Mexican Hat, Bluff and Montecello. Montecello would have been the ultimate destination but was looking more and more unlikely. Hell, for that matter so was the north side of Monument Valley!

View Larger Map

Phoenix, Monument Valley, road trip, riding the white lines

Day 1 - Mid Day Journal Entry (part 2)

Flagstaff bound finally! We're only five hours behind schedule and at this point we're really thankful that we scheduled a light day for the first day of riding. It's going to be a push but we can still make our destination without much hassle. We've left the dead guy behind us and our bikes are rumbling up the hill towards Flagstaff. Just as the cactus and sage start to give way to the pines and meadows we can feel the temp start to drop. This is a double edged sword - the good is that we finally start to cool off, the cooler air has started to take the sting out of the 75mph/110 degree furnace that we've been riding in; the bad is that the temps are dropping to quickly and the breeze is heavy with water. Just as we crest the hill we see the wall of rain we're heading directly into. No shelter, nowhere to hide; while we all cursed being in our leathers just 10 minutes ago I'm certain we're all thankful that we have them on now because we are about to get soaked. We pass an exit ahead sign for Cherry Road - past experience has taught us that the exit offers no cover but the underpass does, 1 mile to shelter. Hopefully we won't get too wet between here and there. Before long we can see the underpass, hoping that we'll make it before the rain but hope is never a good plan. The rain comes, hard and heavy. It feels like 75mph needles performing some twisted acupuncture on our face and hands. The temps continue to drop - we must have gone from 110F to about 75F in just a few moments. The underpass which was once clearly visible is a misty shadow in the distance, the rain continues to pour, the bikes slow to a manageable 55mph or so only serving to prolong the soaking that we are getting but running fully loaded and two up it's always better to be safe than roadkill. Finally we are under the protection of the underpass, cold, wet and yet somehow we manage to find the humor in the day's events;

• Bad Air Intake
• Flat Tire
• Road Construction
• Dead Guy

and now a rainstorm that has forced us to pull under shelter - what next? I think we were all afraid to ask. We grab rock and wait out the rain, Flagstaff's only another 40 miles or so - my hell we still have another 250 miles or more to ride before the days end! The rain finally comes to a point where we can see more than an arms length in front of us so we saddle up and head north, once again trying to get to Flagstaff.

Back up to speed and still watching the Monsoon monsoonclouds in the distance.

Flagstaff, monsoon, bikes

Day 1 - Mid Day Journal Entry (part 1)

It's 12:30, just a little later than the 8:00 am departure that we were hoping for but on the positive side, by the time we were done subtracting mileage for our backtracking, we were still 30 miles closer. That had to have been the longest 30 miles I've ever ridden. 12:30 in the Arizona desert, not only is the temperature now about 105 and climbing but we can see the Monsoon storm clouds brewing to the north of us.

West on Bell Road to I-17 turn right and head north and head north FAST. Our exhaust pounding off of the pavement and the miles are starting to tick off; nothing now but the sounds of our bikes thundering down the road and in the wind. I think about thirty miles in we all start to relax and throttle back just a bit as we start to head up "the hill" towards Flagstaff, just about the same time we see traffic beginning to build up, then come the "Road Under Construction" signs, crap, can't we catch a break! Here we go (or not) again. Traffic begins to crawl, the bikes begin to get hot, the pavement beats the desert heat back up at us. Still in leathers, Damn it's hot. Traffic is just moving enough that we can't jump off and strip out of the leathers, we're stuck in our own personal ovens. Waiting, waiting for traffic to either move faster or stop completely so we can cool ourselves off.
Fifteen minutes now, yo-yo-ing with the traffic in the other lane. A white "Caddy", mom and dad in the front and kids in the back, has been our latest yo-yo companion. After the second or third time of taking turns taking the lead the dad rolls down his window wanting to know where we're headed.
The conversation is nice, helps to pass the time; we talk about our route, how long it "should" take, where they are from (Big HELLO to the tourist from England - sorry I don't remember your names), their route and how much they'll love the Grand Canyon. They begin to move ahead of us again when one of the ladies with us asks if they have any water they could spare; (105+ in leather, with the heat from the road, travelling like a tortise...auuugggghhh!)they promptly hand out three bottles of ice cold water - we thought we'd gone to heaven!

The line still moves slow but at least now we're seeing signs that we are nearing the construction site; pylons are in place, signage all over, in the distance we can see the Flagman. Surely it won't be long now.

Dead Stop, we're not moving an inch, another fifteen or twenty minutes have passed. The ladies get off the bikes and start walking up the road, hoping that they'll be able to give us an idea of how long the line is or at least what's going on. Surely it has to get better?! It doesn't take long before the traffic starts to move again and we catch up to the ladies, not sure if the line is going to go any faster they choose to walk along side of us as we creep-step the bikes along. Within a few minutes their back on the bikes and we're starting to move.

Traffic seems to be flowing a little better now, we must be nearing the end of the construction. One more bend, maybe? We round the corner to see the construction crew directing traffic to the shoulder - two lanes of Interstate merging on to the shoulder - no wonder it's taking so long. As we pass through the gauntlet of construction workers we notice a yellow tarp in the passing lane, covering what one can only guess is a body - fluids running out from under the tarp towards the shoulder, we pay our respects, humbled a bit now, we roll on towards Flagstaff. RIP.

Arizona desert, Monsoon storm clouds, bikes,Flagstaff

Day 1 - Morning Journal Entry (part 4)

It didn't take long before everyone was at the pay phone around the corner from the Dealership, thumbing through the "Yellow Pages" looking for the nearest tire center. Easy enough if I would have been driving my car it seemed like there was a Auto tire center every other mile... sigh...

A few minutes of searching and we came up with a couple of numbers to dial, and dial we did. Out of the three that were close to us (close being relative at that time) one said they could get us in right away and have us back on the road in about 30 minutes.

Over the years I've learned that when anyone promises you they can have you on the road in 30 minutes for anything - you had better double it.

Off we went to the Shanty Shack Garage - of course we didn't know that at the time - I think it was actually called Bob's Cycles or something close to it anyway. After about 15 or 20 minutes riding across town we arrived at Bob's. It was rustic to say the least. The newest motorcycle that they had sitting out front must have been 1970's vintage. For a biker this is actually a good sign. I wouldn't let just any wrench touch a vintage bike without full 100% confidence in their ability. I rode my bike throught the rows of vintage rides to the garage entrance where I was promptly met by... Bob. Nice.... Bob was a good guy, very capable, gave me all the assurance in the world that he had a wide-white that matched the tread I was running and could get me in and out in 30 minutes. I'm still happy... I put the kick-stand down and turn the bike over to Bob. My freinds all tell me that I need to come out of the garage and let the man work. I guess I'm a bit over-protective of my bike - I can't help it I've put blood sweat and tears into this thing, it is my mechanical sweet-heart. Reluctantly I walk to the opening of the garage and lean against the wall, waiting, watching, hawking.

Looking around the shop, I don't see any motorcycle lifts - a few come-alongs strung from the rafters but no lifts. Worry starts to set in and I start to pace. Again, my friends try to distract me, some mumbo-jumbo about cool stuff in the main part of the shop. Some antiquie things I should go look at - real cheap prices on leather... they were trying everything to get me out of the garage... I wasn't having it.

Out come the floor jacks - you know, those one's you buy at the autoparts store that are rated for 2.5 tonnes... What the heck is he going to do with those? That thought didn't last long before they were shoved under the frame of my bike and Bob and his buddy started to crank my bike into the air.

It was 100% involentary, I swear, but I started to move forward, covering ground like a lion on the hunt. I must have been half way across the floor when my wife and best friend were redirecting me, again towards the door, telling me they would watch my bike but if I wanted to get on the road I needed to walk down the street and get something to drink and let this man do his job...

Calmer or at least less anxious heads prevailed, I walked down to the convienience store for a bottle of coke, stopped into the main part of the repair shop, took a look around - they did have some cool old stuff in there, and by the time I returned to the garage my bike was ready and waiting for me to take her down the road.

12:30 - still in Phoenix but it's looking promising!

Northern Arizona - Here we come!

vintage, Northern Arizona, garage,Motorcycle

Day 1 - Morning Journal Entry (part 3)

We rolled to the far north side of the valley (Phoenix metro area), 50 miles or so from our starting point. The plan was to have an easy breakfast and ride hard to Flagstaff where we'd fuel, take a quick break and head towards Tuba City and on in to Kayenta (Southern side of Monument Valley). At least, that WAS the plan. We had the easy breakfast - there's nothing quite like hashbrowns smothered and covered to keep your belly from grumbling.

We had all just finished our meal, the ladies headed out to the bikes while the guy's took care of the check and as I'm standing in line to pay one of the ladies in our group comes up and tells me - "your bike has a flat tire...." and as she's telling me this she's backing away. First I thought she was kidding but was soon to find that she was serious. Someplace along the highway I had picked up a nail in the sidewall of my front tire... here we are, 10:00 am, still in Phoenix, and it's getting hot.

I thank God every day of my life for good friends. This day especially. Not only are they really good at keeping me calm when I really didn't want to be, they always jump in without hesitation to help whenever it's needed. Today was no exception. I never had time to think about it (other than to utter a few choice words) before my buddies were on thier way to get a can of fix-a-flat so we could get to the nearest dealer or tire outlet for repairs."

Within ten or fifteen minutes the fix-a-flat had arrived! Great right? Now it's just a matter of getting to the local dealer located about 15 minutes across town from where we were. No worries, 15 minutes, hey that's not a big deal. We'll get there, get in, get the tire changed and get back on the road in - oh, I don't know, I'm thinking an hour or so. Sounds reasonable, right?

sigh.... I really shouldn't think!

Around 10:30 am Our group arrives at the dealer, dismount and the guy's head to the service department while the ladies decide to browse main store, bikes, clothes and accessories. The Service tech and I go over what I need, I explain that we're on the road heading to Sturgis, we have 4 days to get there and I would appreciate anything he could do to get us in and out as quickly as possible. I personally think that the green dye in his hair has impacted his hearing and cognitive thought process. The only evidence to this phenomenom I call "Green Creep" is his response... "...ummm, we can get you in about 1:00 this afternoon..." I explained our situation again. Not trying to be unreasonable, nearly pleading for him to work us in. I explained that we were travelling across country, how long we had to get to our destination, the fact that we had reservations in South Eastern Utah tonight and we didn't want to ride all night to get there. I then asked if he couldn't do something to bump me up in the order, "it's just a tire change", it's not like I needed an overhaul and was demanding it in the next 15 minutes or anything. The answer remained the same a big, fat, "sorry dude". Still in search of some help I asked for a recommendation where I may be able to get in and out quickly, anyplace, it didn't need to be a dealer..(I did't think this was too unreasonable)... Ole' Green Hair must have skipped out on some of the Customer Service training that the dealership offered and took the class on "sorry dude" instead. I think my face must have given away some warning sign of my growing frustration with the Service Tech's unwillingness to bend a little or even offer any help. As I'm certain that I was about to kindly thank him for his lack of any assistance, my friends were ushering me out to the sounds of thier offering "Thanks anyway"...

We're now at 11:00 am - still in Phoenix. Still with 380 Miles to ride.

Day 1 - Morning Journal Entry (part 2)

We hadn't even pulled out of the neighborhood yet when we heard the wind being sucked into my buddies engine so it was a quick trip back to the driveway, break out the tool kit and try to figure out what the source of the problem was. Off comes the seat, the air filter cover, check the lines, check this, check that put it all back together and we get the same result. I'm sure if we would have not been in a rush to get on the road we would have/could have figured out the problem in just a moment or two. As luck would have it we were in a hurry to leave. We all desperately wanted to beat the 3.5 million people that were going to clog the highways leading out of the "Valley of the Sun" and start heading north to cooler weather. I'm sure my buddies stress level was starting to rise; here we were - the entire group - trying to get on the road and we needed to fix his bike before we could even leave the familiar surroundings of the stucco clad houses that are our neighborhood.

We found the problem after 30 minutes or more of searching. On his bike there is an air intake tube that runs under his tank towards the neck of the bike. On that tube, there is a rubber boot that connects it to the carb; correction... is supposed to connect it to the carb. Once we found the issue we quickly re-connected it and we were off.

Travel Plan - Arizona Route

Our travel plan for the Arizona route - Day 1. It should have been an easy 380 - 400 mile day. Should have been. :)


Travel Plan, Arizona Route

Day 1 - Morning Journal Entry

Countless hours discussing what we wanted to see along the way, plenty of miles on the bikes trying to figure out where to go, hours of stories of trips from the past and time enjoying friends. The trip was worth every moment that we spent planning.

We laid it all out, etched it with pencil in to stone and looked forward to what the road may bring. Departing from Arizona the map program gave us the following information:

Drive: 1,547 miles - in approximately 1 day & 6 hours (we later extended this route to cover 1,671 miles - so we added a couple of hours of travel to our schedule)

Not in your wildest dreams!
If you've ever traveled by motorcycle, and you are over the age of 35 at times it can be a push to put in 120 miles in a single stretch with a "fresh butt". By the end of the day the road has worn on you and your bottom.
500 miles can be a killer day in the saddle even when everything goes as planned. This day, this trip, was not to be "as planned."

Most of our group enjoys 75 mile stretches, then it's time to pull off stretch for a few moments, get a drink and have a quick conversations about what you were thinking about for the last 75 or so miles. Then it's time to saddle back up and head down the road to see what the next 75 brings. We were going to tour the western US; The Northern Arizona canyons, Four Corners, Moab, Canyon Lands, Utah's interior, Spanish Fork.. Jackson, WY, Yellowstone, Chief Joseph Highway, we were packed and ready to roll. The group couldn't wait to get on the road and get out on to the open road.

Departure was a little later than we ideally would have liked but with all of us having kids in school and with the school year just starting we wanted to make sure they got off ok so we ended up leaving around 8:00 a.m., give or take a few minutes.

Finally!! On the road!!! All of the prep work, the discussions, plans, hashing and rehashing, cleaning, packing, tune-ups were all soon to be worth every moment spent! It's time to "Fire 'em up!"

ummmm....So we thought....

Motorcycle traveling