Monthly Archives: May 2007
May 27, 2007
Life at a Buck-Twenty-Nine
From a forum post by Ari Rankum:
It was hot as hell yesterday, but I still went for a 400 mile ride. Coming down from the mountains, I used the new air temp feature on the 2006 instrument panel to watch the temperature creep back up with every mile. Pretty soon, I was wincing with the heat, the sweat in the eyes, and the reflected sun. Pretty much like a switch got thrown, I decided I needed to get a big-ass soda with lots of ice, and I mean right now.
I pulled into the first gas station/mini mart I came upon. Inside was the fountain of youth - any Pepsi product you want in sizes up to the truly ridiculous and a fount labeled "ICE" that almost promised to provide the cooling that can only come from phase change way down in your belly. I grabbed the truly ridiculous size cup and stabbed at the "ICE" button. There was lots of commotion, but dammit, no frosty cubes were issuing. My sweaty head started to boil over. Nooooooo! Oh, uh, I mean yes - here it comes. I filled my cup to the brim with ice, then used Pepsi to fill up all the voids between the cubes.
I paid my buck-twenty-nine and headed outside. This establishment sat about 20 vertical feet below the road surface, which happened to wind along the top of a low hill. It looked like there was a nice grassy spot up by the road in the shade where I could take a load off, and there were tell-tale signs of an actual breeze up there. So off I went.
As I sat there in the slight breeze, crunching and swallowing ice in huge, lumpy gulps, I began to feel a lot better. I watched cage after cage pull in to get some gas, or a snack or drink. Most seemed not to notice me. After a while, a mid-size Chrysler pulled up to the store. Out comes a mom from the driver's seat. It was clear from the way she walked that she probably looked pretty good 20 years and 50 pounds ago. It was also clear, from that very same walk, that she didn't think she looked very good anymore. Neither of us did, and I think we were both a little sad about that. Then followed 2.3 kids, and, lo, a dude in a do-rag, old , saggy jeans tucked into even older and saggier boots, and a faded black T-shirt festooned with the unmistakable, but faint, 2 foot by 3 foot Harley regalia all over the back. As he walked into the store, oppressed by the heat and the facts of married life that no one ever warns you about, he had to walk past the FJR. I could see the high-voltage jolt pass through him at his first glance, as his whole body seemed to flinch for just an instant and he took a short step, almost, but not quite, tripping. Something about the look of the bike elicited an almost involuntary response.
After what seemed like forever, the family comes out, he bringing up the rear. He risks a longer look at the bike, the kind that, if anyone were watching, would be undeniable as a painful plaintive glance. When he gets back into the car, I've got a very good view of the inside. His wife is going on about something, perhaps whatever took so long in the store. He has his head turned to the left as far as it will go, past his wife, right at the bike. She keeps talking at him and talking at him, and he hears nothing. He just keeps staring at the bike. As they pull out to leave, his neck completes truly remarkable feats while keeping the bike in view. I didn't realize it until today, but right then, with the wife going on about something distantly related to an all but forgotten youth and not insignificant string of disappointments, with 2.3 kids sweltering in the back seat of that tattered american iron, covered in a sticky slurry of sweat and sugar that can only be tolerated by the youngest of the young, that dude checked out on my bike. In an instant he was accelerating at maximum rate on a fantastic blue machine on the perfect crushed-graphite roads that twist and whirl in the impossible ways that only the imagination can engineer. In the eternity that the mind can make of a single moment, he had left us all, riding like a bat out of hell, faster than I would ever take my machine, accelerating past a buck-twenty-nine, to a place a lot cooler than where we all met.
I'm glad I was invisible on that hot, breezy hill. I wouldn't have wanted to miss that.
May 24, 2007
Camping
Carole was off in Florida visiting friends with Mandy, so I took off on an overnight trip to try out my motorcycle camping setup — before my three week trip in July.
I took Cerro Noroeste, SR-58 and SR-229 into Paso Robles, then stopped for lunch at the Mexican place next to the Motel 6. G-14 to Mission Rd, through Fort Hunter-Liggett, and onto Ponderosa Campground for the night. I chose space 5 - next to the stream, close (but not too close) to the rest room, and near a faucet.
Camp setup went well, but inefficiently. The bugs were atrocious, so I washed my face, left on my tights and long-sleeve shirt, and added a bandana and a baseball cap to keep them at bay. (I wound up with a number of bites anyway.)
I read the new Falco book and made a cup of tea, and just enjoyed the peace and quiet for a while. There was a bright quarter-moon showing, with Venus just off the lower-right, and I tried to call Carole to share it with her, but I had no cell signal.
When I climbed into the tent, it was still fairly warm, so I started with just the silk liner. The only other guy in the campground was playing his radio too loud, so I listened to my iPod for a while. When I woke up later, I was seriously cold. I climbed into my sleeping bag for the rest of the night.
It always takes me a couple of nights to get used to tent camping, and I tossed and turned a lot but felt well rested in the morning. I made tea and oatmeal, read a little, then packed up. I made a few notes for changes to my checklist, packed everything up and onto the FJR.
When I hit PCH, I decided to head north into Carmel after putting on my wind liner - it was cold! PCH is always a great ride, and there was very little traffic. I stopped at the Black Bear Restaurant at Rio Road for breakfast, which was only so-so. For some reason they were out of hash browns; I wound up with fries of all things.
Carmel Valley Rd. is another of my favorites. Near the end I came up on a deer eating grass on the right side of the road. As I carefully approached, we made eye contact for a couple of seconds before he bounded over the barbed-wire fence and scooted into the trees.
The biggest problem I had the entire trip was cross-winds. The camping bag on the back of the bike was no help. One of the XM satellites had a software glitch, so I lost signal going under any overpass. Other than that, the trip was first rate.
I have a few things to change before my July trip, but I think I'll be okay.
May 15, 2007
Cornering workshop
Streetmasters Motorcycle Training Workshops - The Precision Cornering Workshop
May 11, 2007
Rescue light
Greatland Laser Signaling Devices, Aiport Lighting, Marine Lighting, Industrial Lighting
May 10, 2007
Bite valve
Nalgene Articulated Bite Me Valve from REI.com
Rumble strips
Pol running pants
Buy Men's RRS Speed Performance Running Pant at Road Runner Sports
May 4, 2007
MSF Experienced Rider Course
I took off of work today, to eat up some PTO but mostly to take an Experienced Rider Course given by the MSF. Once a year they hold the "Free Ride", a free ERC, in southern Orange County. Barabus posted details on the FJR Forum, and I signed up as soon as I read about it.
The ERC is a low-speed skills review, focusing on "bike bonding" and basic skill improvement. I was in a group of eight - me, a Marine from Camp Pendleton on a Harley, a couple of young guys on sport bikes, an experienced rider on a Kawi touring bike, a very experienced guy on a BMW dual sport with a BBG frame, and a guy just in from Michigan on a metric cruiser.
I was comfortable with the skills, but worked on my consistency. With all the low-speed drills and constant starts and stops, my left wrist was screaming at the end from all the clutch work.
A fun day all around.