| Author | Message | ||
     Idave |
Day Five, Tuesday, September 5, 2006. Moab,UT to Durango, CO. Another night of deep sleep. I was stirring around the motel room by 6:30am, fully rested after yesterday's boring ride  . I looked outside to witness another clear day unfolding. With the exception of just a few storms, I couldn't have asked for drier weather this whole trip. I looked outside relieved to see the Uly. I opened the door, towell in hand, and wiped the dew off the seat. It must have been near 80 degrees already. I went back inside and continued uploading photos to Smugmug while packing the luggage. Just before checking out of the motel, my phone rang. It was unusual to hear it ring because I only left the phone on when I was using it. Last night I left it on while recharging. It was Gary on the other end, a friend from home. He said he was following my daily updates over the the 'Beasts' section, and thought the Uly looked, in his words, 'like a badass motorcycle :deal .' I told him it IS a badass motorcycle . We chatted awhile. It was nice to hear from someone back home. He told me to enjoy my day. It was pouring rain back home, dark, and he was fighting the morning rush hour traffic on the Dulles Toll Road. Ugh. The reality. After our conversation, I was acutely aware that I need to fully appreciate this day. I left the Adventure Inn, and rode to a nearby gas station to stock up on orange juice and water. And another handful of Slim Jims. It was hot. I started to break a sweat just getting the bike situated for today's ride. I debated whether to wear the jacket or not. I knew it would get cooler soon. I just didn't know 'how' cool it would get. I headed south on 191. Rolling out of Moab, I shot the BK where I gulped that huge pink lemonade the evening before.  Minutes after leaving Moab, I was happy to be wearing my jacket. I rolled up on a pair of bikers heading in the same direction, snapping a photo as I passed. That handlebar position made my body sore just looking at it. I couldn't imagine racking up miles in that position. Oh my aching neck!  I rolled past a hole in the rock. I have no clue what it was. I think someone woke up one morning and said, "Honey, I'm going to paint a sign on the rock today. That'll bring the customers here in droves ."  Before long, I turned left on 46 heading east. The elevation started increasing, as did the temps.  Soon, I was chilly, borderline cold. I stopped the bike on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere. While packing, I strategically placed my underarmour shirt in a location that would be easily accessible. The problem was, Murphy's law was kicking in and it took me five minutes to find it. During this time, I noticed not a single car passed by. The quiet was deafening. I took a whiz right in the middle of the road. Just because I could After getting redressed , I got the bright idea that I'd take a self portrait with the Kodak on the handlebar. I set the self timer, walked over to the front the bike, and stood in the middle of the road holding up dual peace signs. During the 10 seconds while I was waiting the the shutter to fire, I heard a car coming up behind me . I stood my ground. The car had to slow down, while I stood in the middle of the road holding up peace signs. After the camera recorder the incident, I got out of the road, smiled, and flash a peace sign at the driver as he went by. They didn't seem too chatty .  The extra layer of warmth felt fantastic. For about 2 miles, anyway. I started getting cold again. I was entering another forest.  I was still in Utah, but super close to CO. I could see the state line quickly approaching on my GPS screen. Time to put my rain jacket on. It was the sum total of cold weather gear I had. If this didn't provide enough warmth, I was out in the cold, literally. I took the obligatory shot. What an idiot  Here's the shot behind me  The rain jacket provided sufficient warmth, and man it felt nice. As I warmed up, the roads began to twist. I was 'riding' again.  This was probably the last photo I shot in Utah. I know you folks reading this are probably happy this is the last photo I shot in Utah. Just wait till we get to Colorado  I had planned to capture all the "Welcome to" signs as the trip unfolded. I missed most of them. Utah was amazing, but the time had come to explore Colorado.  There was no traffic. There was no rain.  There were mountains, rivers, and sunshine. And cold temps.  I came through a mountain range and dropped into a valley. It stretched for 30 or so miles. It was zx-14 heaven. The road was straight as an arrow. Towards the end of the stretch, I entered another small town and pulled in to fill up the tank.  The gruff guy sitting behind the counter wasn't friendly. He wouldn't make eye contact. He wouldn't smile. He wouldn't answer me when I asked if a restroom was available. He laid the change on the counter instead of handing it to me. I totally understood. Afterall, I was a biker. It's obvious all bikers are up to no good. I thought it best not to get too chatty, fearing he'd pull a six shooter from under the counter and start blasting away The attitude was refreshing. It reminded me home home . I rolled outta town and on toward the Rockies. From 46, I took CO-90 to CO-145. Along the way I couldn't help but notice how the summit point on top of the Rockies affected the weather. The skies were super clear, save for clouds on the 3 summits. Trust me, I shot photos  After what seemed like miles and miles of rolling across The Plains, I entered another mountains range.  The road followed trout streams. This was the Colorado I had been expecting. Roads snaking through the valley, with towering mountain on either side. I was real disappointed with my photos through this section, but I'll show them anyway :deal   I found a small path that led to a boat ramp. Noone was around. I rode right to the river edge. It was amazing to finally be standing next to a stream in the Rocky Mountains.  Nasty overexposed photo, but the subject was far from nasty.  A few miles later, a few more shots:  As I was shooting here, I heard a rumble roaring through,  The sound echoing off the canyon walls,  getting louder, totally disrupting the trickle of flowing water  The roaring exhaust was pure music. These guy were railing through the mountains. I got the impression they weren't sight seeing  so in honor of the above riders  I stepped up to the plate. And shot more photos  John Denver ringing in my head :rofl  Rocky Moun------ain Hi-------ih,,,,,,,,,,  Co----------  Lor----------  Ado-------- (Come on, sing along everybody. It's fun.) :lol3 :evil This one's a keeper.  Back to the seriousness of the report :deal Those mountains are getting closer, and taller   I was just shooting. This is the section of road just before entering Route 550 :evil  It doesn't get much better.   What? Two's not enough enough? Don't worry, I have more  Pretty soon, the landscape got exceedingly boring :deal  so I stopped for a rest  just outside of Ouray  and forced myself  To press on towards Ouray:1drink   Next up: Lunch, Ouray Pass. | ||
| Sleez |
absolutely wonderful! | ||
| Motomickey |
Idave, when you finish this, if there is a way to get a copy of it, I would love to get it. Your trip is awesome!!!!!Makes me want to load up the ULY and hit the road right now. | ||
| Idave |
Day 5 Continued. Ouray to Silverton I rolled into Ouray. Up until this point, Ouray was just a name. A place where an ADV Rally had taken place, but to me, it was really just a place with no significance. That's the way this whole trip was. These places were just names. That is until I experienced the sights, smells, and sounds first hand. The first thing I noticed about Ouray is the street is flat in the middle, then slopes way down as the road approaches the curb.  On a normal bike I wouldn't even notice. On the Uly with a stock seat, my 34 inch inseam had to be careful when navigating a U-turn. I could see it now. Everyone's enjoying a nice peaceful lunch, listening to Enya softly playing from the mountain heights, and I come rolling into town, try to turn around, and without notice, drop the bike in the middle of the street with a Enya interrupting crashing thud . I rolled down mainstreet spying several deli's. After reaching the end of town, I rolled up to one that looked promising. Actually, it had a front porch, where I could order up a sandwich and watch the world go by. I rolled up and tried to park the bike. The slope of the curb wasn't cooperating. I rolled back around across the street to prepare for a better approach. Everyone's lunch has been thoroughly interrupted by this point. The second time around, I positioned the bike at an angle where it wouldn't fall over by the slightest wind. Everyone went back to eating . I went inside and ordered up a club on white bread, then retreated to the side porch.  As I was waiting for the delivery boy, I just sat there enjoying the moment. I thought about how nice it would be to live there. Every now and then, a bike, or a pack of bikes would interrupt the silence and roll by. Sitting next to me was a couple that looked to be just beyond college age. I couldn't help but eaves drop on their conversation. He was asking her how she liked her new place. She said something about Ouray being a great place to live, but 'only if you have the toys to fully take advantage of everything there is to do.' Or something like that. I didn't want to strain my neck listening . I don't usually eat lunch. Maybe a snack, but rarely a sandwich. The delivery dude walks over a plops down a monster club sandwich, piled high with lunch meat. I could have been content eating a third of it. I sat there and ate the whole thing, savoring every mouth watering bite. I was stuffed. After lunch, I walked back to the bike and shot a couple of photos to remember the event. When I shot this  a guy walked up behind me asnd asked how I liked the bike. We started exchanging stories. He was coming from Durango, through the pass, around a loop, then back to Durango. Apparantely there was a biker convention in Durango Labor Day Weekend. While he spoke, I recalled the group at my motel in Escalante saying they were coming from the same bike event. I found out he was from Texas, and mentioned tomorrow, I was heading from Durango to Amarillo. He just said "Oh God, good luck, that's a LONG trip." What neither of us knew at the time, Amarillo would end up being my halfway point tomorrow :deal . For now though, we'll save that part of the trip for that part of the trip . I also noticed the sky was turning dark in the direction I was coming from. He said "It looks like we're getting a cloud." I never hear anyone put it quite that way before. I would have said it looks like a storm's brewing. But in reality, out west, a storm is simply a cloud. Or a cloud can be a hellacious storm. From now on, I'm going to start referring to storms, as clouds. It's less intimidating.:deal I hopped on the bike and headed to the edge of town. I stopped so I could take some insulin, then a photo  or two  well,  severl photos  of this place called Ouray, before departing. The 'cloud' is getting closer.  The guy also asked if I had been 'through the pass yet.' I said not yet, not knowing what 'the pass' was. He said I would enjoy it. I rolled on, climbing into the mountains overlooking Ouray.  to a height that seemed at the time to be level with the 'cloud.'  Within a few minutes, I began to understand what 'the pass' was  And this is where photography's limitations fail to show the dramatic dropoff on the right side of the road. Or is it my limitation? Nah!  The road led right through a pass which was elevated at least a thousand feet, maybe more, over a ledge which was only several feet from dropping off to the canyon floor below.  What the photo can't convey, is that sensation you get in the pit of your stomach the first time you ride a roller coaster. That's the sensation I got riding through this section of road.  I was trying to look over the edge, and focus on the road, without riding off the edge . I suppose if I went over the edge, I'd never be found. Later, I'd get a history lesson about the region. For now, I'll just explain that the region gets 35-40 feet of snow annually, and there's no guard rails because the trucks push the snow right off the mountain. For the record, they lose, on average, one plow truck and driver per year:eek1 . Down inside the gorge  and one for the road. That's Ouray Pass.  That's Ouray Pass. And my Uly  ,,,,,about to get wet if I don't stop shooting and get moving. I continue on, where the sights continued to amaze   as I was shooting this, a red freakin' mini van pulled right up in front of me and right into my viewfinder. I couldn't believe it. Of course, I do realize that whatever shot HE was going to shoot was way more important tha the one I was planning to shoot . I blew it off, and remembered something about traffic on the rainy toll road back home.  not too shabby  :evil  check the elevation. Just afterwards, I hit 11,204 feet. My highest ever.  Approaching the above photos from my perspective on the bike  more traffic  I basically went apeshit here behind the lense  almost forgetting to do an about face to see what's back there    I continued   not bad for a bike mounted cam  and before long, made my way into Silverton.  where I parked the bike  and started shooting:rofl :1drink | ||
| Blake |
What a great way to spend lunchtime, reading your trip write-up and looking at the wonderful photos. Thanks again Dave!  | ||
| Idave |
Thanks Blake and everyone. Happy you guys/gals are along for the ride. | ||
| Kandie |
We want more!!  | ||
| Idave |
Silverton was pretty much what I expected it would be. A nice town surrounded by the majestic Rockies. By this time, the storm,,,,oops, cloud, was gaining ground on me. According to my GPS, I had a moving average of 27.7 mph so far . Even though it was only September 5, Silverton felt like mid late November in Virginia. I parked my bike at the edge of town planning to walk all the way down main street with the camera. I shot a photo, then started walking.  It didn't take long to realize Main Street is a long street. I turned around, and headed for the bike. I was suddenly attacked by a wild animal. Fortunately, his owner was close by and thwarted the attack.  I hopped back on the bike, and rode through to the other end of town. The wind really started picking up, blowing vast amounts of dust across the road. At the same time, the skies began getting darker, and the temps started dropping. My plan of exploring Silverton with a camera sudenly changed. While at the opposite end of town, I managed to grab a few quick shots before putting the Nikon back in the tank bag. I was concerned the lens would get scratched from all the dust blowing around, not to mention the lenses attached to my eyes. Here's the sum total of my Silverton experience:  I wonder how much a place like this sells for :deal  A little stream on the outskirts of town  Silverton's a rugged place.   If it works, don't fix it.  I shot a final photo of the bike in town, then rolled out.  Here's the town from above  Just outside of Silverton, I got one final shot of the majesty of the Colorado Rockies  Here's heading toward Durango. Looks like a cloud up ahead.  I kept rolling, catching up to, and passing this gentleman. It was getting very cold.  As I passed him, I noticed he was prepared for the cloud. I wasn't. About 7 miles later, I pulled off to the side of the road to put my rain gear on. It started sprinkling. As I was roadside, the gentleman towing the trailer rolled up beside me and asked if everything was okay. I gave him a thumbs up, and told him I was preparing for the weather. I asked where he was from. He smiled and said Kentucky. I could tell he wanted to get a move on. I didn't want to hold him up, so I thanked him for checking up on me. He left. After putting my rain gear on, I knew I'd have to put the cameras away until I reached Durango. I looked around and grabbed a few departing shots. This is where I was stopped.   The cloud was now on top of my head  I put both cameras in their plastic bags, and left the beautiful scene. Within minutes, I was riding in a cold rain. My gear kept me warm, and dry. Within a few more minutes, I caught up and passed the gentleman from Kentucky, again. Most everyone had slowed down to 40mph due to the cloud. I sped up to 65 and just blasted through it. I reached Durango in maybe a half hour, I forget exactly. By then the cloud was just spitting on me. I rode all the way through Durango looking for a choice motel. I found a Holiday Inn that looked nice enough. I went inside and the attendant was a prick. Maybe because I was in my wet riding gear, I don't know. I asked for a AAA rate on a non smoking room. He quoted $142.00 plus tax. I said no thanks, and headed back toward the motels I'd seen on the way in. I stopped in a Budget Inn, and scored a room for $58.00. My room was on the lower level, with parking at my front door, and came equipped with wifi. Little did I know, I was about to meet one of the most interesting people on my trip. | ||
| Sleez |
do tell!!! ooooh, the suspense!!!!! | ||
| Court |
You could meet some very interesting folks there including Phil and Janet Kohlemainen who live in Pagosa Springs, Jody Singer who lives in Denver but is in Durango this weekend writing or famed Ultra-Marathoner Cathy Tibbets who I met at a spa in Ouray while crusing the "Million Dollar Highway" on a Buell 11 years ago. The "million dollar highway" was the first time a roadway, in America, broke the $1M/mile barrier. . . if you ride it, you'll see why. The current Glenwood Springs chunk of I-70 is the current record holder. Also on the M$H you'll see the concrete sheds built over the highway. . . they tired of having therr roads blocked from avalanches. Keep those reports coming. . you're planting seeds! | ||
| Ebear |
AAhhhh Pagosa Springs...neat place and what about Wolf Creek Pass Court????Looks like Switzerland in America to me....Well Dave ,you've captured me with your great story and phenomenol photography......For some reason alot of pics aren't coming up on this junky Computer.....guess I'll have to go back through this entire story when I get home!!!!!Yahoo!!!....(pensively waiting,eric)...MDH.....most beautiful highway in America!...and welcome to Buellville!! | ||
| Maddiemsu |
Loving every minute of this  | ||
| Idave |
I need to back up a paragraph. After deciding the Holiday Inn was too pricey for tonight's budget, and their attitude was too close to what I'm familiar with back in Virginia, I rolled out to the edge of town and saw the sign pointing toward Mesa Verde. I had planned to explore Mesa Verde if time allowed. Unfortunately, the route, CO-160 west lead straight into the cloud. Also, by the time I rolled into Durango, the clock struck 5:00pm, well, close enough to 5, that I decided against the whole Mesa Verde trip. So, anyway, I'm back at the Budget Inn unloading the Uly. This process is very familiar by now. I removed both pieces of Wolfman Luggage and the tank bag. Once inside the room, I unload the tank bag so I now have a place to store dinner. I hop on the unloaded, much lighter Uly and head out to explore Durango in the misty rain. It's rush hour, so the streets are busy. Diagonally across the street from my motel is a Subway. Perfect. I head straight over and order up a Tuna Sub LOADED with accouterments. As the lady is building the Sub, I notice three or four colorful bikes pulling into the motel directly across the street, right next to my motel. I'm almost certain this is the group I saw the day before back in Arches NP. I sieze my dinner, return to the bike, and I'm tempted to go talk to the group, but I have a more important mission. Beer! I go into a gas station and look through the drinks. There's no beer. I ask someone inside where I can buy beer. He gives the Colorado history about supermarkets selling weak 3.2 percent stuff, or I can get the good stuff at one of two places, located at either end of town. None of this makes sense to me. In Virginia, if I want a beer, I can get a beer anywhere. This is turning into an ordeal. But I wanted a beer. I left the gas station and ended up in the historical district of Durango. I pulled up next to 2 girls and asked them where I could get a beer. They asked if I wanted to sit and drink a beer, or get carry out. I'm thinking I could have brewed my own batch by now, but I said 'carry out would work just fine, thanks.' They gave me directions that led toward the Holiday Inn I had already visited, and right down the street from the Holiday Inn was a well equipped liquor store. I scored a couple beers, and now I'm heading back to the motel. As I pull up to my parking space, there's a fellow in the space next to me, putting a cover on his Gold Wing in preparation for the night. I'm feeling chatty, so I roll up, remove my helmet, lock the bike, and introduce myself. At first, I can tell this older gentleman is sizing me up. He seems to be trying to figure out if I'm going to bum something off him, or something. Finally, he says hello. I tell him my name, and before long, he knows my life story. About a half hour later, I know his life story. His name is Bob from Carson City, NV. 6 kids, 15 Grand Kids, etc.etc. Bob is super interested in hearing about my trip. I'm totally tripping when he mentions he and his lovely wife are just completing a 48 state tour of the United States. Oh man, I can only imagine the stories he has to tell. We continue talking, and just as when I was talking to Stan the evening before in Arches NP, Bob's wife continues whatever it is she's doing in preparation for the night. It's as if these ladies of the road expect their husbands to have extended conversations with strangers. This stuff never happens to me in Virginia! Anyway, we continue talking for at least a half hour, and honestly, I started to feel bad for keeping this gentleman from his wife. Before ending the convrersation, Bob said he was heading to Provo, UT to care for his dad for several weeks, before heading up to the Dakotas to finish their 48 state tour. I was gobbling up every word he spoke. We finally wished each other well and went separate ways. And as usual, I didn't get a photo. I went inside and discocvered my previously iced cold beer wasn't so iced cold anymore. That's okay, I'd just come from an engaging conversation. I grabbed my ice bucket and went to the ice machine across the way. I returned to the motel, put both bottles of beer in the bath sink, and pour the ice on top. Then I went for another load of ice. On my way back to the room the second time, I walked past a couple obviously struggling to get their door open. I stopped, grabbed the card and slid it into the key slot. They were so thankful, you'd have thought I just bought them dinner. He see's my riding jacket and asks where I'm from. I tell him Virgina, at which point he gets excited and says "Greensboro North Carolina here" He then leaves his wife, and starts walking over toward my bike. Before long, I know all about his '1983 something or other that hasn't been started in years but is sure it runs motorcycle sitting in the back of his shed',' and now he wan't to know all about my bike. I'm getting more and more hungry, more and more thirsty, and less and less chatty. He grabs my hand and nearly broke it with the handshake, saying, "God Bless You Dave and Keep The Rubber Sign Down." I said something about "well He always does bless me and I always try to keep the rubber side down." That's pretty much all he needed to hear, and he split. I went inside, popped open a beer, slammed down my sub, and just enjoyed the blessing. (Message edited by iDave on September 15, 2006) (Message edited by iDave on September 15, 2006) | ||
| Usroute66 |
Great photos and writing. BTW, when you are done, if you could put together a map of your trip, especially this part, it would be greatly appreciated! | ||
| Sleez |
look forward to reading the rest on monday! cool to have a dvd version with a slideshow and a great voiceover of the text!!! | ||
| Idave |
Day 5 Continued into Day 6, Wednesday, September6,2006 Durango, CO to ???????????? After the evening conversations were wrapped up, I retreated to the comfort of my $58.00 room. I found the cheaper rooms were actually cleaner and cozier than the more expensive ones. I spent the evening uploading photos, talking to Julie, and listening to The Weather Channel. I wanted to get as much sleep as possible for the beginning of my return trip the next day. I fell asleep sometime around midnight, and woke up late, 7:35am Wednesday morning. As I was preparing for the day inside the room, I happened to open the door at 8:05am and saw Bob and his lovely wife Linda on their Goldwing ready to depart. I caught their attention just in time. I grabbed my Nikon, and walked over. Bob shook my hand like he meant it. He then grabbed our hands with his left hand, and I could feel the genuine friendship flowing through. I took a step back and shot two photos. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Bob and Linda W. These are two of the nicest people on the entire planet. And I mean that.  And the bike Linda purchased for Bob.  She bought it from Tampa. They flew in from NV, and started riding. No wonder Bob and I hit it off so well the evening before. Right after I shot this photo, I walked back over to say goodbye. Bob told me to please stop by if I ever make it to Carson City, NV. Linda looked me right in the eyes, smiled, and said "Please bring your family, they're welcome in our home." I said I hope to see them again one day, told them to be careful, and just like that, Bob and Linda left. I walked back inside the room with mixed emotions. I was sad they were leaving, and I didn't know if I'd ever see them again. I was happy to be able to see them one last time. How could someone I barely knew, someone I spoke to for only 30 minutes, have such an impact on me? It's because a connection was made, and it was real. I went back inside, realizing I was getting a later than usual start. After loading the Uly, I left the parking lot in Durango at 9:10AM. My gas tank was full. I didn't stop to get a time documented receipt in Durango. I just left. Heading south on 550 toward Albuquerque, the temps were frigid. My immediate goal was to reach Amarillo, 500 miles away. I wouldn't be stopping for sights today. The number one priority was maximum mileage. I didn't even mount the Kodak on the handlebar. In the back of my mind, I was planning, today or tomorrow, to do an IBA, 1000 miles in 24 hours. My plans usually fail, so it was loose plan, and success depended entirely on how I would be feeling once I reached Amarillo. I left Colorado and entered New Mexico for the first time. Route 550 is pretty boring through NM. There were a few mountain passes where the elevation reached 7000 feet. Mostly, the road was flat, long, and straight. I checked my GPS and noted the elevation averaged between 4500 and 6000 feet. In New Mexico, 5500 feet was like sea level back home. My Nikon was up front and center inside the tank bag, just in case. As I was rolling through NM, I saw a sign mountains off to my left were The Continental Divide. I shot a pic  just because it was the Continental Divide. Since I had the camera out, I shot another of the NM landscape  I stopped one other time to shoot a famous mound, I think it Montezuma ???  The above photo was taken from the saddle, just a record of seeing it. I wasn't in the mood for 'capturing' anything, just miles. A few more shots of NM (Message edited by iDave on September 16, 2006) (Message edited by iDave on September 16, 2006) | ||
| Idave |
oops, I hit 'Submit Reply' prematurely, again.   I stopped here for a tank of gas and a hotdog.  Then I rode to I-25 south, to Albuquerque, to I-40 east. To make a long story short, I rode across New Mexico. I then rode into Texas. I reached Amarillo at 4:10PM. I pulled in for gas. I had ridden 500 miles. I called Julie. We talked about my possibilities. I told her I wanted to stay off the bike for 20 minutes, and just chill. She talked to me the whole time. The sun was setting. I decided to keep riding. I said goodbye to Julie, and told her I wouldn't be calling because it would be late by the time I got off the bike again. I hopped back on I-40 and headed east. Before too long, I enter Oklahoma. I ran through a tanks of gas, and stopped to fill up. I went inside to pay. A really nice young guy, maybe 24-25 years old, took note that I was traveling on the bike. He asked me how far I was going. I told him I planned to run straight through Oklahoma. He thought for a moment, then went into action, telling me the towns up ahead where I should watch my speed. He was looking out for me, and I appreciated it. I thanked him, cranked my iPod, and split. As soon as I got back on the interstate, I saw a HUGE, FULL MOON rising . It was slightly masked by haze, but was a wonderful sight. I debated on whether to stop and capture it. I kept rolling. Before long it was too high in the sky to make in interesting photo. I kept rolling. My next immediate goal was Oklahoma City. I wanted to see the bombing memorial. I reached Okalhoma City sometime between 8:30 and 9:15pm. Obviously too dark to stop and absorb the power the site offers. I kept rolling. Coming out of the east side of the city, the temps were dropping fast. Some kid in an import, maybe a civic, was driving right beside me. I guess he thought it was cool. I wasn't interested in playing. I was interested in focusing. I sped up, he sped up. I slowed dow, he slowed down. I crossed over 3 lanes of traffic, and left him. I just wanted to be left alone with my iPod, and the road. Before long, a guy on a chopper came rolling past me. He was flying. I was cold wearing full gear. He was only wearing tattoes. This guy was wearing whorts, a muscle shirt, and sun glasses. I shivered just watching him. I don't care what anyone says, that guy was freezing his ass off. Period. I rode behind him for 15 miles, before he exited into one of Oklahoma's suburbs. I continued rolling. Before long, the busy interstate surrounding Oklahoma City gave way to empty darkness. I was very alone. I kept rolling. My night had only just begun. | ||
| Idave |
I was wearing all the cold weather protection I had. Part of the attire was my rain jacket. That works great at speeds below 45. Above 75mph, there's quite a bit of wind drag trying to rip the jacket off my back, strangling my neck in the process. I rode for hours hovering between 78-82 GPS indicated MPH. You just get used to it. My iPod was cranking. I continued rolling. Most of the time, I used my brights. I'd roll up on a tractor trailer, then just as I'd pass, I'd turn the brights off, move into the left lane, flash the passing lights twice, execute the pass, the return to the brights. I had only one close call. I was passing a series of tractor trailers, was at about the gas tank on one truck, and he started coming over. Just when I thought I would have to run off the left side of the road, he saw me when he was half way into my lane, and moved back over. I was on high alert every time I passed a rig from that moment on. There wasn't much traffic after 10pm. In fact, the flat land I had been traveling gave way to tree lined interstate. It was extremely dark. I started feeling very alone. Soon, my mind started thinking about what I would do if I ran out of gas, or worse yet, if the bike developed a problem. I didn't have a cell signal in much of the area I was riding. I had no flashlight. I started thinking about how difficult it would be to even fix a flat tire roadside in the dark. Just diggin out my tire repair kit from somewhere inside my luggage would be difficult. The Uly had taken me on an Epic journey without missing a beat. Still, I began stressing out. In fact, I was starting to mildly freak out at the 'what if' scenerios. There's no logical reason for me to start worrying, but I was mastering the emotion. After so many miles in the saddle, so many hours solo, I guess the stress from fatigue started to have a negative impact on my psychological well being. About this time, in the midst of a freak out, I swear this happened. I'm not going to sugar coat it, but it did happen. I was somewhere on the east side of Oklahoma City, my mind playing tricks on me, and I looked up and saw a billboard. In spotlights, I read the words "Fear Not For I Am With You." That's what I saw. And you know what, those words hit their mark. I can't explain it, other than to say, all those 'what if' thoughts left, and I was now riding in a totally peaceful state of mind. I think AC/DC was cranking in my iPod at the time I rolled on, totally grooving on the trip. As the night wore on, my goal was to hit the 1000 mile mark so I could achieve the IBA. I rolled out of Oklahoma, into Arkansas. That was a welcomed site. About 1:00am, I was getting close to hitting the 1000 mile mark. BTW, I was using my GPS as the odometer, so the mileage was definitely accurate :deal . I was about 23 miles away from Clarksburg (or Clarksville, not going to look it up right now), AR. I was getting very tired. I knew I wouldn't hit the 1000 miles by the time I reached Clarksburg. I din't want to risk having to ride another 35-50 miles before finding another motel. I rolled past the first exit. I rolled past the 2nd exit. I rolled up to the 3rd and final exit for Clarksburg, and my odometer was at 995.0 something miles. I rolled up the exit ramp, across the I-40 overpass, and busted a U-turn heading west on I-40. I rolled past the middle exit. I rolled up to the first exit. As I was coming up the exit ramp, my GPS indicated exactly 1000 miles. I ain't bullshittin' ya I looked to my left, nothing. I looked to my right,,,,,,a Day's Inn motel stood right before my very eyes. I rolled up at 1:37 am. There was another guy standing outside checking in. I took off my helmet, took out the ear buds, and walked over to check in. The guy turns around and asks, "How do you like that Buell?" :clap :deal . I said, "I like it just fine. I left Durango Colorado this morning and just rode 1000 miles." He said, "I just bought an Aprilia Tuono." I couldn't believe he spoke those words. Everyone who knows me knows the Tuono is my Dream bike. One day, wait,,,,,,I need a moment here. Anyway we start talking bikes . The guy behind the glass is smiling, participating in this engaging bike conversation at 1:45AM. I must have received an incredible adrenaline dump, cause my batteries were suddenly recharged. I paid for my room. The guy asks if I want to go get a beer. I declined, rode over to my room, got out the jetboil, and prepared myself a slammin' cup of coffee to celebrate th IBA accomplishment. (I probably won't submit the paperwork for the actual certificate, since I didn't stop in Durango to get a witness or time/date receipt. I consider the photo of the GPS log my certificate, and plan on place an 8 x 10 photo on my garage wall as my certificate.) Here's the trophy:  I drank the coffee, turned on The Weather Channel, and fell fast asleep. The next day I would go after the Saddlesore, 1500miles in 36 hours | ||
| Kandie |
Still following along. This is great! | ||
| Daves |
We had a Subway In Durango last month! Weird huh? I need a Uly | ||
| Kandie |
I was thinking that too and we met the strangest people in Durango! Just got out of jail can I bum a cig Tikki bar guy! ( We got some spoons though!  ) (Message edited by kandie on September 16, 2006) | ||
| Daves |
All the dogs we met in Durango were nice though | ||
| Rum_runner |
This is crazy i usually don't get on the computer to much in the day time. but i can't help myself. this is great makes me want to take a trip on the S1. id make it 300 miles and my butt would be dead. dave keep them coming im eating this up. | ||
| Idave |
I was stirring about the room by 6:45 am. I woke to the sound of The Weather Channel, volume turned half way up. I didn't hear it until I slept right through the broadcasts all night long. I fired up my Jetboil on the front porch and prepared another cup of coffee. I prepared the bike for today's journey, then shot a few photos   I was on the bike heading out of Clarksburg just after 8am. I felt completely rested. My body had no soreness from the day before. I expected to be sore, I expected to be miserable. I was totally refreshed and ready for another day of riding. That's a testimony to how good the ergonomics are on the Buell Ulysses. That was one of the factors that narrowed my search down to selecting the Uly as my next bike. The stock seat, and seating position, and handlebar position, is perfect for my frame. None of these items need or will receive adjustment by me. For me, the Uly is good to go, as is from the factory. I continued east on I-40. After a few miles, I noticed a vintage Yamaha XS1100 coming up on my left, riding two up. They passed me at a pretty good clip. I sped up to keep pace. I was pacing them at 84 GPS MPH, a speed just a touch too fast for my drivers license. I backed off, disappointed that I would have to ride this next stretch of highway solo. As soon as I backed out of the throttle, the Yamaha also backed out a bit. I settled in behind them as we crusied in the 78 mph range. For the next 50 miles or so, I just paced off the Yamaha. They'd make a pass, and I'd follow suit. After 40 minutes or so, I decided to take the lead and let them follow. It's funny the stuff that goes through one's head sometimes. I was happy to be riding with someone. I didn't want them to think I was up to no good, like stalking, or anything. I was just riding along. That's why I made the pass. I was hoping they wouold follow me down the highway. They did. Before long, we started getting close to Little Rock, AR, just in time for rush hour traffic, and road construction. All lanes were forced into one. We were riding about 10MPH for several minutes. I could tell the guy on the Yamaha wanted to pull up alongside and say something. My iPod was cranking, so as soon as he pulled up along side me, I had to motion that I couldn't hear him. This went on for several miles. Finally, traffic stopped completely, and I was able to reach inside my jacket and turn off the iPod. The guy rolls up, and mentions the "ADV" sticker on the back of my helmet, and asks if I ever post here. I said occasionally, although the truth is, I'm more comfortable with the fellow misfits on ADVRider than any other site. He said he's lurked here but never posted. He then mentions they are just returning from an 11000 mile trip across America, including Alaska. Traffic starts rolling again, and they are low on gas, so they exited. It turns out the guy is Kevin, and his better half is Lori. Kevin goes by KNYBanjo here on ADVRider. It was a pleasure rolling up I-40 with the two of them. Encounters like this, though brief, cement relationships. One day I hope to ride with you again Kevin and Lori. Until then, I hope to read a report about your trip. I finally made it to the otherside of Little Rock. I continued on, iPod cranking again, for what seemed like hours before reaching Memphis, TN. I was disappointed with the size of the Mississippi River. The potomac is wider than the Mississippi . Rolling through Memphis was a challenge to this out of towner. Pretty soon I'd discover law enforcement, Memphis style. The following is a cut and paste from the thread over in the "Beasts" section from the thread "I'm getting a Uly too." It's easier than rewriting it. I was folloowing a white SUV government vehicle across the Mississippi River, when, several miles later, the I-40 Eastbound lane was a suden left hand single lane merge. I was in the process of passing the SUV, when I saw the sign, so I motioned that I was coming over in front of him, and I'd appreciate it if you'd give me enough space to merge in . He did, and I gave him a thumbs up gesture. About this time, the lane we were in merged into a boatload of traffic, mostly tractor trailers, none of which were trying to be courteous to the fine folks in my lane trying to merge in. Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, I pinned the throttle and sped up to about 80mph (in a 55mph zone) to accelerate past all the traffic on I-40 , and it turns out the nice little SUV is an undercover state cop . I had no problem hearing the siren piercing through the music on my iPod, and no problem seeing the blue lights in my Uly's vibrating mirrors . I immediately pulled over across 4 lanes of trafic with the SUV on my ass, stopped the bike, took off my helmet so I could get the earphones out of my head ,because these were instructions I wanted the heed . As the cop was walking up, I got off the bike, and said, :I totally screwed up back there and I apologize for it. I'm not from around here, and that sudden merge caught me off guard, but I screwed the whole thing up." :deal :deal :deal :deal :deal He asked me where I was going. I told him "back to VA." He then asked me where I was coming from :clap :clap :clap and I proceeded to tell him about my journey . He asked to see my license, I handed it to him, and he said "you were riding pretty aggressive back there Dave.":lol3 He then said, "Dave, I'm not going to write you a ticket, but I want you to crank it down a notch or 3." I said "thank you Mr. Nichols," and he let me go. So if you happen to read this Mr. Nichols, I tip my hat to you:freaky The real funny thing is, all the people on I-40 I blasted past earlier, saw me sitting there pulled over by a cop, then, within minutes, I was blasting past them again I continued riding through TN. It seemed like it took four IronButt awards before reaching Nashville. I rolled into Nashville around 4:15pm. Rush hour was well under way, and traffic sucked. I had planned to contact FtBstrd in Nashville to smack down a brew. After sitting in rush hour traffic the only thing on my mind was getting to the other side of the City, out of traffic. Also, I forget exactly, but I had not yet reached 500 miles for the day, and I had until 8:10 that evening to achieve the Saddlesore. Even though I won't submit the paperwork for the official certificate, it was a personal goal, and I wanted bragging rights. I just want to say to Ft Bstrd, sorry for not stopping, I meant nothing personal by it. I kept. rolling through Tennessee. On and on, damn, that's a long state. Finally I reach the outskirts of Knoxville. I stopped and called Julie. I told her I was planning to go to Deals Gap and stay there for 2 nights if I could score a room. (For my Aussie friends down under, Deals Gap is 318 turns in 11 miles snaking through the Smokey Mountains here in the eastern US:deal.) Julie looked up several motels I was familiar with in Robbinsville, NC, but both were booked solid. Usually I would have just gone to Robbinsville and discovered I had no place to stay after riding the 1.5 hours to get there. Today, I was happy I called beforehand and didn't waste 3 hours. I told Julie I just earned the saddlesore. Here's my trophy:  1588 miles in 22 hours. BTW, the Uly handles just fine at 103 MPH Anyway, Julie told me I should stop for the night. I said thanks for the advice. An kept going . I actually thought about riding all the way home. It would have been about a 1150 mile day. I would have arrived home at 4:14AM according to my GPS. I continued North. About dark, I started getting tired. A little later, I got real tired. And cold. And hungry. And thirsty. Marion, VA would be my goal. I continued rolling. About 18 miles south of Marion, my bike hit reserve. I had to pull over for gas. At about the same time, my iPod batter breathed its last. There was no way I was going to ride all night without tunes to keep me company. I filled the tank, went inside, bought two 24oz Watermelon Smirnhoff drinks, and checked into a rustic motel. I went inside, cranked up the wifi, drank a few drinks, stayed up late, and slept in for the first time in 7 days. Nice place for $50.00  Only one day left :cry | ||
| Idave |
Final Report. Day 8, Friday September 8, 2006. Destination: Home sweet home. I slept until 9:30am. I awoke, and for the first time took advantage of the motels continental breakfeast. Then I loaded the Uly, and hit the road. Marion VA is only several hours south of Pops house. This morning I had two options. I could ride route 16 West out of Marion. This road leads through some of the finest twisties Virginia has to offer. I've ridden it only one time, with Steverino, Harpoon, Eap, HarveyMushman, Squidley, Jabba, Scorch, I'm leaving someone out, and I hate that, but it's unintentional,,,,,oh yeah Robert (forgot screen name) . To this day, it was the best group ride I've ever been on. I need to go back to Marion:deal . The other option was to head north, and stop by to see my Dad, and my brother Squidley, on the way home. One thing I learned a long time ago, is People are more important than things. If you haven't learned this on your own, noone can teach it to you. There was no struggle in deciding what to do. I rolled up I-81 to my dad's place. For the next 1.5 hours, I shared tidbits of the trip with my dad and Squidley. My dad seemed really interested in what I had to say. I enjoyed the visit. Here's to you dad.  Squidley was all ears. Later that evening, he called to say my trip had inspired him. He was leaving the next day on a solo trip to Maine. No wonder his wife hates me I rolled out of dad's place toward home. I hit 211 eastbound. For the first time, I let the Uly run free. I hit some familiar Virginia back roads, and just hauled ass through the twisties. The bike handles like it's on rails, even with 40 lbs of baggage loaded on the back. I knew the Buell Ulysses was a perfect match for my riding style. I arrived home to a warm welcome by my supportive wife and kids, shortly after 5:00pm. I love you Julie. Total miles for the trip was 3300 and some change. If I ever get the opportunity to do this again, there will be no hesitating. If anyone out there is debating on a similar trip, I simply encourage you, go. I'd like to say a hearty Thank You to everyone I met along the way who made my life richer just by your acquaintance. Everyone in this report, whether I met you out on the road, or here in the forums, including ADVRider, BadWeatherBikers, or AusTouring.com, I'm humbled by your generous comments regarding the report and photos. I hope to see everyone of you out there someday. Dave  | ||
| Kandie |
Oh, I don't want your trip to be over! Thank you so much for sharing. Post here again if you do any more trips. Congrats on your new bike! | ||
| Blake |
Dave, | ||
| Court |
You do indeed ROCK and ,as one who's ridden a Buell through 44 states, I find my self with a warm combination of great memories, envy and admiration . . what an incredible trip you had! I'm getting the bug again! Glad you are home save and I, for one, think Julie is the hero of this story. Welcome home and welcome to the world of Buell. | ||
| Idave |
Court, Daves, Kandie, Blake, RumRunner, USRoute66, Sleez, and the rest of you, Thanks for joining me on this trip. I feel like I already know you fine folks, and hope to one day meet each one of you face to face. Julie IS the hero of this story. I don't know how she puts up with me. | ||
| Weatherman |
dave my wife and i just read your story and want to find the time to do just what you did. congrats on a great ride and thanks for sharing |
