The Devil in Utah and A Little Luck

I think sitting still is over rated.

I love being busy and since the kids are grown with families of their own I have to find ways to keep busy especially when I live in Michigan alone.  Riding is my favorite way to keep busy.

Riding to Texas for the long Memorial Day Weekend was the longest single ride I had done to date.  One Thousand sixty-one miles in two days. 

I left out of Michigan on the 21st of May with my Vet brother, Tech, we blazed down to Toledo and had to stop to fill up.  He was pulling a trailer behind his bike so he had to stop long before I needed to.  We both had to put on more layers because it was only 60 some degrees and at 75/80 MPH it was getting chilly!

Here I was 2330 miles away from Michigan, in two days I had put on 1250 miles and I was baking in 95 degree + temps.   You have to be dedicated or just short of being committed to ride in weather like this, for distances like I am.

It's Wednesday morning, the 15th of July, and I need to be at my mom's by tomorrow.  I need to be putting highway miles behind me but I am in need of breakfast first.  I am in luck, I find a couple of Rock Springs finest and ask one of them to direct me to a local place to get a good breakfast. He directs me to Grub's Drive In (http://grubsdrivein.com/index.htm).

The place isn't much to look at, there is barely a place to park my bike, and they only had seating at the counter but the sausage with breakfast was some of the best I had ever had.  The day is starting out pretty good and it's only going to get better.

Utah is wondrous place and the terrain becomes a little more hilly as I cross over the mountains East of Ogden.  The freeway is full of wondrous curves and I am full of energy as I lean and glide over the mountains.

There is a sign that touts "The Devils Slide Turnout" just about 8 miles west of Morgan, UT.  The name intrigues me and I slow down to see what on earth a Devil's Slide is.

It's quite a sight to see,  two parallel limestone bands that have been tilted upwards to lie vertical.  A retired professor of geology and geography at Weber State College, figured that the limestone ridges were originally horizontal and were formed by deposits in a shallow sea.  About 75 million years ago, when huge layers of rock were pushed up to form peaks and the ridges were tilted to a vertical position.  The layer of shale that originally separated the limestone ridges eroded over time and it formed the chute.

The weather is still very on again/off again and there are storms dotting the skyline.  Finally in Utah the weather looks like it's going to get ugly and I pull over at a Flying J gas station.  I don't need gas but I need to check the radar to see what's up a head and I am not the only one.  There are two other bikes pulling in in front of me, one pulling a trailer already there gassing up and a fourth pulls in a few seconds behind...all guys of course.

 Being out and about, riding alone, I am not accustomed to riding with people I just meet.  It's a risk that I don't like to take.  The two riding together are father and son from Oregon, the one pulling the trailer is an older gentleman from Vancouver, Washington, and I don't really talk to fourth. 

You just know why we have all pulled in, we are checking the weather up a head.  I show the father and son my radar map, I-84 turns to the north and the storm is still south of the freeway, moving slowly.  We all decide that there is safety in numbers and we gang up to try to out run the rain.  I offer to take the rear, this gives me the opportunity to pull off alone if I feel unsafe.

We ride out the storm with minimal rain finding it's way on to us and pull over shortly after we cross over into Idaho where I get to snap a picture of the storm.  My luck is holding, I haven't had to use my rain gear since Terra Haute on the 10th of July.

To be continued...
 

http://www.ghosttowns.com/states/ut/devil'sslide.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Devil%27s_Slide_(Utah)

 

Dodging Bullets

It's summer, right?  I thought it was!  It's not supposed to rain in the summer, is it???  I get into Wyoming and it seems that all I have been doing is racing the rain storms and there are some nasty ones that need avoiding!  I don't like riding in the rain anymore than the next guy but I have to be in Washington by Thursday so I don't have a lot of room to play with.  I am quickly finding that on rides like this I shouldn't set such a rigid schedule.

Cheyenne is one of my stops and I allow for a leisurely lunch at a surprisingly upper scaled hotel by a Little America truck stop.  I feel a little out of place wearing my leather vest and boots when all around me are 50/60 someones wearing suits, Chanel, and carrying Fendi handbags but carpe diem.

Finishing up and heading to the gas station to fill up the bike, I run into the funniest thing I have seen so far on this trip.  It's a Toyota Yaris with two guys in it, but these are two normal guys, these two look like linebackers for the Chicago Bears.  They are stuffed into this little Yaris.  I think I can hear the little car pleading for help.  I have to hear the story so I ask... They are on their way to Texas from Kenniwick, Washington, (What a coincidence) they are couriers and are going to pick up a gentleman that is blind and his dog to take them back to Washington.  They have a Ford Expedition but the Yaris gets twice the mileage and that puts more money into their pocket.  My one question is, where do people find these jobs?  But my biggest observation is that these guys are smiling and seem to be happy.  They are making the best of the situation and what they have.

Looking at my phone and the weather radar map, I have got to get moving but I take the time to post on my Facebook page, asking my friends what would they do if faced with the impending weather.  Most tell me to stay put, keep safe, but my one brother, who is a serious rider like myself, tells me "Drive fast and take the chance!! Also put on the rain gear when you get close.........never know it may be fun!"  I have to agree with him, the worse case senerio is that I will have to take shelter under an over pass.  So I grab a few snacks, some extra water and I make tracks West.

I make it through several sets of storms with only a few drops and I finally settle down for the night in Rock Springs, Wyoming.  I almost didn't get a room.  The rodeo is in town and almost every hotel is booked.  I logged around 650 miles that day and the next round of hotels is another 15 miles down the freeway, not a lot of miles but still a few more than I want to make.

I don't even eat dinner that night, I just take a hot bath, call my Sweetheart, and go straight to bed.  I am putting on too many miles and not taking enough breaks, I can feel it, my body is telling me that I am pushing too hard.  

Note to self: Schedule your route better next time or you had better be happy and make do with what you end up with!

Living in Wonder

I haven't been to a family reunion in about 5 years and riding to Washington state on my bike has been on my list of things to do for quite a few years.  Originally I thought I would have been taking US 12.  From tip to stern, US 12 starts in downtown Detroit, Michigan and ends in Montesano, Washington, a 10 state, 2650 mile, 50 hour trip and would take you through the Clearwater National Forest and the Bitterroot Mountains in Montana...BEAUTIFUL.  Instead I am starting in the south and going through some areas that can change so quickly it's amazing.

My bike just eats up the road on day two and I am out of New Mexico in only a few hours and crossing into Colorado.

Colorado is an ever changing sight.  Flatlands and cattle country to my right, hills and mountains to my left.  On I-25, I pass by the remains of, what looks to be, an old mission but it is on the other side of the freeway.  I want to stop and find a road up to it but my time is not on that leasurely of a schedule so I move on and opt instead to stop at a scenic overlook. 

I run into, what seems to be, a elderly father and daughter on a trip.  He notices my bike and we talk about the one subject that always seems to come up, my riding alone.  I laugh and explain that I am never alone because Crazy Cow is on every trip I make, I also explain that I have faith that God will get me to where I need to be, when I need to be there.  He seems pretty happy with that answer and he and his daughter walk off.

Back on the road I head into Pueblo, Co, where I stop once again for gas and find myway to Outpost Harley Davidson (http://www.outposthd.com//).  There I meet one of the nicest sales ladies of ANY Harley dealer, Dina.

Dina is about my height and can't weight more than a 100 lbs soaking wet and she rides a little 883 sporty that has been bored out to 1200.  She, like me, loves to ride, she loves to be up on that bike and riding.  Being as tiny as she is, though, she is skeptical that she could ride anything bigger and she was amazed that I was riding the size of bike that I was.  We walked over to the show room floor and I had her get on a Fatboy Low.  We talked about her fear of dropping the bike, not being able to pick it up, and the correct way to pick up a bike.  Ultimately, I don't think she is going to move forward in getting a bigger bike because she is worrid of the "what if's".

I don't have that problem.  I live by the motto, "Never be afraid to try something new, never fear change".

Why do we limit ourselves? Why do we allow fear to dictate our lives?  Why are we consumed with the dread of what could happen, instead of the wonder of what just happened?  Why do we obsess over the anxiety of the unknown instead of being inspired by edification.  Try to imagine where we would be right now if, as toddlers, we failed to take our first steps because we were afraid to fall, afraid to fail.

Stop living in fear and start living in wonder at what you find. 

 

Heading Northwest

I have always been adventurous. I love being on the move, going places, seeing things, meeting new people. It’s kind of difficult to explain but I would love to see it all, to be in a conversation and have someone mention some small remote place and to be able to say, “hey, I have been there,” is a thrill for me. There are so many stories from this trip, I don’t think I will every have time to put them all into words before my next adventure but I have to try...

Leaving Texas for Washington State and my family reunion is a task.

I skirt the Oklahoma/Texas boarder going way north of the Dallas-Ft Worth area through Wichita Falls and into Amarillo. It’s all pretty flat with sprinkles of wind power throughout and I make mental notes of the areas I’d like to go back to for some adventuring.

Riding along US Route 82, I stop for lunch in the little town of Muenster. The town interests me because of the strong German influence and I love good German food. I locate the local market, (http://www.fischersmeatmarket.com//) buy some meat and cheese, find a shady spot by my bike, sit and call my Sweetheart. We chit chat about the day so far and talk about where I am going to stay the night. I have my “Bessie” in my saddlebag and I was originally going to find a camp ground or rest area and cinch up my hammock, but there is something in his voice that tells me that he is going to worry extensively if I attempt to go this route. I don’t want to overstress him so to alleviate his worries I promise him that I will check into a hotel.

I don’t always understand people’s worries about my riding alone. I haven’t run into a problem yet that I couldn’t figure out myself or with a little help from just a phone call. My philosophy is that I trust that God has His eyes on me and all will be as it should be.

Texas begins to feel never-ending after 8 hours and the heat takes a toll on me. Ultimately, it takes me 12 hours and 605 miles to get out of Texas and into New Mexico. I check into the Super 8 in Clayton, New Mexico an hour after dark. There is a storm riding the Capulin mountains in front of me and I don’t want to ride in the dark AND the rain. I have been there, done that and have gotten the t-shirt. It wasn’t fun and it was actually one of the only times that I have been genuinely scared while on my bike. I know that storms are going to be abundant on this trip, mostly due to the high temps.

The temps all day hovered ever so close to the 100 degree mark and then you add on the heat generated by the bike and you can begin to feel baked. I guess some may consider me a little nuts but when you are doing something you enjoy and love, you don’t tend to look at the negative.

 

Wet Socks

The adventure begins well.  I finish work up and head out.  It is a little cool and I have to wear my sweatshirt but that's ok because I am on my way.  Three weeks off.  I have not taken this much time off since the kids were in elementary school and I dang sure haven't had this much time off to myself ever.  don't make it as far as I hope that first night due to a request from one of my friends living in Texas.  She wants to make Pancit for me and cannot find the noodles down in Bowie County and I have to pick up Harley Shirts for my Sweetheart and another friend. 

    I make do with getting into Terra Haute, IN and getting a little hotel.  The next day I wake up to a miserable wet day.  I am happy that I took up the extra space and packed my bike cover and even more so that I put the thing overr my bike the night before.  I get on my rain gear after breakfast and head out.  It's only a light sprinkle, I ride through parts where it's not raining at all and I am hopeful that the rain is only temporary.  My hopes are dashed in Effingham, IL when the clouds open up and proceed to drench me to the point where I cannot see 15 feet in front of me.  For safety reasons, I have to pull off.  I find a larger gas station and park my bike by one of the pumps and under cover.  I get a cup of coffee, play a couple games of Sudoku, talk to a few people that notice the bike and I go into the bathroom to dry my socks off. 

    I manage to get wait out most of the rain and make it out an hour and a half later.  I am behind schedule and I have a lot of time to make up.  I only stop for gas and to call and update my Sweetheart.  I have one planned stop to make that will take more than 10 or 15 minutes and that is in Little Rock.  That's where I make the realization.  

   I had been riding so hard and fast, not really stopping to take my time because I want to get down to Texas so badly that I didn't realize how wet my feet still were.  I changed out of my wet socks and felt so refreshed it was like I had just awakened from the perfect nap.  

   I realized that life can sometimes get like that.  You get used to things one way.  It may not be the best way, the right way, but it's just THE way things are until you change "your socks" and suddenly you realize how much better you feel.  How much better life feels with just that one little change you have made.  

   Think about your life.  What little thing could you change that would make it so much better?

Iron Butt Tour 2015

   It's July, at least that is what the calendar says but at 65 degrees at 1:30 in the afternoon in Michigan makes one wonder where summer is?  Meanwhile, in Texas, it's 86.  Time for a trip.
   This isn't going to be a weekend or even a week trip.  This is going to be a big one.  This is going to be three weeks of vacation to travel through 21 states and 7000 miles.  This is going to be EPIC and I am pretty excited to have the opportunity to have this adventure.
   The first stop...where else, TEXAS!
   My best friend and sweetheart is there and waiting to throw me a birthday party.  This isn't a milestone birthday but it's going to be the first one in 35 years that I didn't plan myself.  Then I am off to the Pacific Northwest for our annual family reunion that I haven't been to in 5 or 6 years.
   Keep tuned for more...

Places to go, People to see

Memorial Day weekend and I requested four days off, including half of a day the Thursday before, to make an eleven day mini vacation and I have got places to go and people to see.  I make arrangements with one of my Veteran brother’s heading south to join him for a few hours, we hash out the little details and, besides the end destination, I have no real path planned out.  The week of the trip is here and Monday morning I wake up, debate with the weather as to its cooperation that day and if I should ride.  Open toed shoes win out and I decide to drive to work instead.

Walking out of my apartment I startle a bird in a bush next to the stairs by my apartment but this is no ordinary bird, it is a sky blue parakeet.  Someone has lost their pet.  I make an attempt to catch it so that I can find its owner after work but he isn’t very willing to allow me to assist him and is soon flying off to be free.  I thought to myself, this is going to be an interesting day and I was right.

I get into my truck which faces my carport where I park my bike and I just look.  Something isn’t right.  Where’s my bike.  I get out of my truck and just stare.  My first thought is, “You silly woman, where did you park her?”  Did one of my brothers decide to pull a prank on me?  No, they couldn’t, I locked the fork up, the most they could do was to push it in a circle.  

Stolen.  She was stolen.

I call 911 and suddenly I am in full panic attack mode.  I manage to let the 911 operator know that my 2013 Harley Davidson Streetglide motorcycle was stolen but I am having difficulty with getting her more information.  I just cannot think.  I cannot process what is happening.  This poor woman on the other end offers to send an ambulance to my location but I decline, I can control this, I have to.  I hear someone talking to her and she asks me, “was your bike yellow?”  OMG!  YES!  “Is she in one piece?”  “Yes, Ma’am, we have recovered her.”

The whole day at work, everyone is talking about it.  I Facebook what’s happened and people are shocked and happy that she was recovered so quickly.  I finally get a call from the special investigator assigned to my case and I just need to know a few things.  Is she ride able?  He is unsure but he thinks she is in good shape.  Is the cow still with her?  He is now confused.  I explain the significance of Crazy Cow and he says that he will look for the cow and send pictures as soon as he can.  A few hours later, I have pictures of my baby in the back of a U-Haul truck and the cow is still strapped on.

My Vet brother, Skip, takes me to get her during my lunch on Tuesday.  She just needs a new main fuse and the side cover is missing but other than that, she is in good shape.  She is in good hands again and yet she feels off, almost like this inanimate object knows that she has been violated.  I know how that sounds but I also know how it felt to be on her after she was stolen.

I am a basket of nerves by the time I ride her back to work and I even lock her up, which is funny because there is more security at my job than at the airport.  On my way home I stop at Menards for 10 feet of the thickest chain and a lock but I put the chain back when I find a padlock with an alarm on it and this sucker is LOUD!  I just have two nights to manage to live through before I am off on my vacation.  I will feel safer knowing that I will be away from these people that want to take my bike.

I sleep with my window locked open ajar, my weapon ready, the bike with her new accessory attached and my prayers ascending to heaven that she will be there when I wake up.

What a way to start the 2015 riding season.