Hey! I resemble that remark! As I recall, it was You and Mark who rode Wing for Me between Cincy and Indy last month during My "Stator Incident".:-D
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Hey! I resemble that remark! As I recall, it was You and Mark who rode Wing for Me between Cincy and Indy last month during My "Stator Incident".:-D
8
8trackmind
Guest
D@mn right! Maintenance shmaintenance. We had air in the tires. The oil light was off. We made it home. What else really matters? :-D
[edit] Beer in fridge? Check.
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Ironriot
Guest
Well i'm glad to know that I'm not the only one on here. Although I don't got the full goatee goin on.
On another note sounds great. Colorado has some beautiful country as does Arizona. Hell that whole region is beautiful. I fell in love with it when we road tripped to the Grand Canyon
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Ironriot
Guest
Actually thats wrong. Any alcohol easily accessable inside the car is against the law here. And a keg qualifies as an open container. Also the driver doesn't have to be drinking for the cop to start arresting people. Open containers and for that matter closed containers aren't allowed at all anywhere inside a vehicle. You have to put it in your trunk or bed
M
mordantmonkey
Guest
day 3
day 3
I awoke to a pale dawn and the chattering conversations of forest squirrels, which are apparently much more vocal than their city counterparts. I went for a short morning hike, and discovered that what i had thought was the sound of rustling trees lullabying me to sleep was actually a gurgling stream. no wonder i had slept so peacefully.
I was too lazy to cook breakfast and not particularly hungry so i began packing up camp. As i was packing i was pelted by what i thought was probably the biggest bug i had ever seen. I swatted it away and jumped back... it was in fact a humming bird. It was in fact, several hummingbirds, apparently attracted to my bright red helmet and gas can. I sat and watched them hover around restlessly until they realized there was no nectar to be had and disappeared back into the forest along with the chatty squirrels and timid chipmunks.
I carefully made my way through the mile or so of gravel, that the GS wasn't particularly suited for, until i had reached the highway once more. I made my way through a surprisingly camper/RV packed 2 lane highway, whomping on the poor little 550 engine every time a passing lane emerged. Its a great beginner bike, but is sadly lacking in mean acceleration at highway speeds. Or possibly I could blame it on the high altitude, or the fairly ragged state of the specific motorbike in question. Finely tuned and expertly maintained it was not. But hey, it got the job done.
I made it as far as Durango before both I and the bike began getting dangerously close to empty. Stopped at a Denny's for a quick bite, then went to the grocery to buy some more food, and to use their bathroom to get rid of the thermal underwear that kept me warm in the early morning hours but were quickly becoming a hot and uncomfortable liability.
I then wound my way to Mesa Verde whereupon arriving at the entrance I realized that I had left my wallet in the grocery store restroom... 40 $%&! miles back. So i race back to Durango, with the ever growing realization that if I don't find my wallet I will be stranded there with no gas and no money, desperately calling relatives, and searching for a western union. I park my ride on the sidewalk, swiftly walk to the bathroom, and burst into the stall not really stopping to even worry whether it was occupied. fortunately no one was in it, but unfortunately neither was my wallet. it wasn't on the TP dispenser, it wasn't on the sink, it wasn't behind the toilet, it wasn't IN the toilet (yes i would have reached for it if it was). I went to the customer service desk asking about it. no luck.
I began frantically tracing my steps through the store, back to the parking lot. Almost reaching the parking spot i had last used, i hear a loud shout across the lot.
"Hey! DONATO!!" I spin around oddly as though i'm preparing for a gunfight, and there is a municipal bus driver with a big grin, waving out of the driver's side window. "I recognized you from your driver's license picture." "Found it in the bathroom; figured you'd be back for it sooner or later."
How much 'later' he planned on waiting I didn't ask, but just thanked him and my luck stars and headed back on my way.
With much relief I re-entered Mesa Verde and made my way through the twisty ass roads that led to the cliff dwellings. I only had time to see one, and i fortunately chose the one that kept me from getting rained on during the ensuing downpour. Though, forgetting to cover my bike before the tour, I couldn't say the same for it. The tourists were sparse, the ranger guide far too annoying, and the cliff dwellings magnificent. I only wish i could have camped out in them. The rain had stopped by the time the tour was over, and my pack was waterproof enough to keep my clothes fairly dry. I drove back through the miles of eerie, naked, burnt trees (apparently, lightning and fires are a common occurrence) stopping only once to admire a large 12 point buck. He simply stood at the road side staring back for what seemed like 2 whole minutes before slowly turning and striding away.
Back to the Highway I raced for Arizona. The desert spread farther and farther around me as did the sunset, until soon I was driving through nothing but a panorama of lavender, and pink, and orange, and crimson. In contrast to Colorado's close quarters of heavily stacked pines and rocks that bound my puny vessel with it's massive mountains, the expansive desert of Arizona set ablaze by the sinking sun released me into the west. I at once felt larger and smaller than I ever had during my waking hours.
Rain began to sprinkle as i resigned myself to find a hotel now that the sun had fully set. All full up in Kayenta. The shabby hotel 30 mi farther past town wanted to fleece me on a room. For $80 I'd sleep on the roadside instead. or at least i'd drive the extra 35 miles to the nearest camp site in monument valley. even if the rain was picking up, and it was pitch black out, and i was tired as hell. In retrospect i should have shelled out the dough, but it was really the principle of it (and my cheapness). The thought of being flung off my bike like a rag doll and not being found until sunrise, if at all, did a decent job of fighting off the sleep. But I was definitely not prepared for the moderate rain combined with moonless driving on an unfamiliar road populated with reckless speeding desert drivers. Several times i considered pitching camp in a pullout or side road, but thought better of it. Had I only known what true rain and maniacal driving was, I would never have complained at the time.
I pulled into Goulding's lodge and camped out in the dusty, gritty campsite, more tired than i ever thought possible from sitting on one's ass all day.
end of day 3.
sorry for the mild spoiler, but no, the oil plate is not what i needed to worry about.
day 3
I awoke to a pale dawn and the chattering conversations of forest squirrels, which are apparently much more vocal than their city counterparts. I went for a short morning hike, and discovered that what i had thought was the sound of rustling trees lullabying me to sleep was actually a gurgling stream. no wonder i had slept so peacefully.
I was too lazy to cook breakfast and not particularly hungry so i began packing up camp. As i was packing i was pelted by what i thought was probably the biggest bug i had ever seen. I swatted it away and jumped back... it was in fact a humming bird. It was in fact, several hummingbirds, apparently attracted to my bright red helmet and gas can. I sat and watched them hover around restlessly until they realized there was no nectar to be had and disappeared back into the forest along with the chatty squirrels and timid chipmunks.
I carefully made my way through the mile or so of gravel, that the GS wasn't particularly suited for, until i had reached the highway once more. I made my way through a surprisingly camper/RV packed 2 lane highway, whomping on the poor little 550 engine every time a passing lane emerged. Its a great beginner bike, but is sadly lacking in mean acceleration at highway speeds. Or possibly I could blame it on the high altitude, or the fairly ragged state of the specific motorbike in question. Finely tuned and expertly maintained it was not. But hey, it got the job done.
I made it as far as Durango before both I and the bike began getting dangerously close to empty. Stopped at a Denny's for a quick bite, then went to the grocery to buy some more food, and to use their bathroom to get rid of the thermal underwear that kept me warm in the early morning hours but were quickly becoming a hot and uncomfortable liability.
I then wound my way to Mesa Verde whereupon arriving at the entrance I realized that I had left my wallet in the grocery store restroom... 40 $%&! miles back. So i race back to Durango, with the ever growing realization that if I don't find my wallet I will be stranded there with no gas and no money, desperately calling relatives, and searching for a western union. I park my ride on the sidewalk, swiftly walk to the bathroom, and burst into the stall not really stopping to even worry whether it was occupied. fortunately no one was in it, but unfortunately neither was my wallet. it wasn't on the TP dispenser, it wasn't on the sink, it wasn't behind the toilet, it wasn't IN the toilet (yes i would have reached for it if it was). I went to the customer service desk asking about it. no luck.
I began frantically tracing my steps through the store, back to the parking lot. Almost reaching the parking spot i had last used, i hear a loud shout across the lot.
"Hey! DONATO!!" I spin around oddly as though i'm preparing for a gunfight, and there is a municipal bus driver with a big grin, waving out of the driver's side window. "I recognized you from your driver's license picture." "Found it in the bathroom; figured you'd be back for it sooner or later."
How much 'later' he planned on waiting I didn't ask, but just thanked him and my luck stars and headed back on my way.
With much relief I re-entered Mesa Verde and made my way through the twisty ass roads that led to the cliff dwellings. I only had time to see one, and i fortunately chose the one that kept me from getting rained on during the ensuing downpour. Though, forgetting to cover my bike before the tour, I couldn't say the same for it. The tourists were sparse, the ranger guide far too annoying, and the cliff dwellings magnificent. I only wish i could have camped out in them. The rain had stopped by the time the tour was over, and my pack was waterproof enough to keep my clothes fairly dry. I drove back through the miles of eerie, naked, burnt trees (apparently, lightning and fires are a common occurrence) stopping only once to admire a large 12 point buck. He simply stood at the road side staring back for what seemed like 2 whole minutes before slowly turning and striding away.
Back to the Highway I raced for Arizona. The desert spread farther and farther around me as did the sunset, until soon I was driving through nothing but a panorama of lavender, and pink, and orange, and crimson. In contrast to Colorado's close quarters of heavily stacked pines and rocks that bound my puny vessel with it's massive mountains, the expansive desert of Arizona set ablaze by the sinking sun released me into the west. I at once felt larger and smaller than I ever had during my waking hours.
Rain began to sprinkle as i resigned myself to find a hotel now that the sun had fully set. All full up in Kayenta. The shabby hotel 30 mi farther past town wanted to fleece me on a room. For $80 I'd sleep on the roadside instead. or at least i'd drive the extra 35 miles to the nearest camp site in monument valley. even if the rain was picking up, and it was pitch black out, and i was tired as hell. In retrospect i should have shelled out the dough, but it was really the principle of it (and my cheapness). The thought of being flung off my bike like a rag doll and not being found until sunrise, if at all, did a decent job of fighting off the sleep. But I was definitely not prepared for the moderate rain combined with moonless driving on an unfamiliar road populated with reckless speeding desert drivers. Several times i considered pitching camp in a pullout or side road, but thought better of it. Had I only known what true rain and maniacal driving was, I would never have complained at the time.
I pulled into Goulding's lodge and camped out in the dusty, gritty campsite, more tired than i ever thought possible from sitting on one's ass all day.
end of day 3.
sorry for the mild spoiler, but no, the oil plate is not what i needed to worry about.
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Craiger
Guest
This has been a great read....and I'm looking forward to more.
B
beby99
Guest
W
WesV
Guest
Dude, keep it coming!! I did a similar trek almost 2 years go with a '68 pickup driving from ND to VA, this is very reminiscent of my haul so I am identifying with quite a lot. Keep it coming! (Your authorship is nothing to scoff at either!)
T
TheCafeKid
Guest
hrmm I was always told open container wasnt against the law in Texas as long as the driver hadnt been drinking...shows what secondhand info will do for ya...
S
spyug
Guest
Great story. Keep it coming.
It reminds me of Saturday mornings as a little kid. For a dime we got to go to the "show" (movies). Got cartoons, the Stoodges, a main film and a "serial" ( Buck Rodgers, Robin Hood or Hopalong Cassidy or the like). The serial always ended at a point when the hero or heroine was in danger and great words of foreboding all over the screen and creepy music blaring, " Will Buck Escape the evil Ming and rescue Princess **** before the asteroid hits?????????" It kept us coming back week after week.
Anticipation.....its a sweet thing.
Can't wait.
Cheers,
Spyug
It reminds me of Saturday mornings as a little kid. For a dime we got to go to the "show" (movies). Got cartoons, the Stoodges, a main film and a "serial" ( Buck Rodgers, Robin Hood or Hopalong Cassidy or the like). The serial always ended at a point when the hero or heroine was in danger and great words of foreboding all over the screen and creepy music blaring, " Will Buck Escape the evil Ming and rescue Princess **** before the asteroid hits?????????" It kept us coming back week after week.
Anticipation.....its a sweet thing.
Can't wait.
Cheers,
Spyug
I
Ironriot
Guest
Agreed... Keep it coming man. You have the attention of alot of people. And I agree with Wes, your authorship is rather good. You a journalist or something?
B
brenno
Guest
This has to be one of the most enjoyable threads I have read on this forum.
I envy you for two reasons.
One is that you are on this fantastic adventure and that you are able to describe it in word so that others can picture it.
Well done mate.Ride careful and look forward to the next instalment.
Bren
I envy you for two reasons.
One is that you are on this fantastic adventure and that you are able to describe it in word so that others can picture it.
Well done mate.Ride careful and look forward to the next instalment.
Bren
R
Regis
Guest
M-Monkey, you write so well! The story is great stuff and the descriptive is excellent. Thanks so much and we wait for mo'!
E
emjay
Guest
Still loving it, keep it coming.
Wow, what a beautiful place. The views from there are just awesome.
Wow, what a beautiful place. The views from there are just awesome.
G
Gravity Tester
Guest
Great Story PLEASE keep it comming.
Pat
Pat
D
dwvoss
Guest
Great story, please tell us more.
T
tconroy
Guest
Great trip thru Missouri.
Great trip thru Missouri.
I started out in Kansas City and rode to Union Mo which is just southwest of St. Louis, with a GS friend and spent the night at his house.We rode Saturday morning to a Conoco and waited on the other bikes.There were 5 of us all together 3 gs's all with vetter fairings and hardcases,1 Yamaha magnum and a brand new boulevard c50t.We then rode to Hermann mo. which has 5 wineries and a town that time had forgotten.We then cruised south on some of the best twisties and highways I have ever been on.The fall scenery was full of beautiful colors as if someone had painted them across the hillsides and the roads were in perfect condition and some so new there were no center lines painted on them yet.We rode into some small towns and met some very nice local people that also helped us plan our trip.we then found ourselves winding and twisting south towards Rolla Mo. where we ran out of road and had to load the bikes up on a ferry to get across the river to the other side of the highway to keep going.We then turned right on hwy.42 and headed towards the Lake of the Ozarks only to be confronted by a Texas longhorn steer standing in the middle of the road.After revving the engines and honking the horns several times the steer decided to jump the ditch and head back into the field where he came from.It was time to start heading north so we got on hwy.113 and headed back to hwy 63 where I split from the group and headed towards Jefferson City and rode right by the capitol building and on to Columbia mo where I got on hwy.70,rolled the throttle up to 80 with a brisk side wind that had me hanging on for dear life and headed home.It was the best ride i have ever been on so far.The 650 proved to be an outstanding vintage bike that will do anything newer bikes can do.after all was said and done I logged over 600 miles on the bike that day and would feel confident in hopping on it and doing it all again.Kudos to this sight for the knowledge they have given me to keep my 25 year old bike going with the confidence that I can jump on and go anywhere without worry!!!!!! God bless the GS!!!!!
Great trip thru Missouri.
I started out in Kansas City and rode to Union Mo which is just southwest of St. Louis, with a GS friend and spent the night at his house.We rode Saturday morning to a Conoco and waited on the other bikes.There were 5 of us all together 3 gs's all with vetter fairings and hardcases,1 Yamaha magnum and a brand new boulevard c50t.We then rode to Hermann mo. which has 5 wineries and a town that time had forgotten.We then cruised south on some of the best twisties and highways I have ever been on.The fall scenery was full of beautiful colors as if someone had painted them across the hillsides and the roads were in perfect condition and some so new there were no center lines painted on them yet.We rode into some small towns and met some very nice local people that also helped us plan our trip.we then found ourselves winding and twisting south towards Rolla Mo. where we ran out of road and had to load the bikes up on a ferry to get across the river to the other side of the highway to keep going.We then turned right on hwy.42 and headed towards the Lake of the Ozarks only to be confronted by a Texas longhorn steer standing in the middle of the road.After revving the engines and honking the horns several times the steer decided to jump the ditch and head back into the field where he came from.It was time to start heading north so we got on hwy.113 and headed back to hwy 63 where I split from the group and headed towards Jefferson City and rode right by the capitol building and on to Columbia mo where I got on hwy.70,rolled the throttle up to 80 with a brisk side wind that had me hanging on for dear life and headed home.It was the best ride i have ever been on so far.The 650 proved to be an outstanding vintage bike that will do anything newer bikes can do.after all was said and done I logged over 600 miles on the bike that day and would feel confident in hopping on it and doing it all again.Kudos to this sight for the knowledge they have given me to keep my 25 year old bike going with the confidence that I can jump on and go anywhere without worry!!!!!! God bless the GS!!!!!
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C
Captainkirk
Guest
Wow.....great narrative, excellent descriptive writing skills and a totally intriguing storyline to boot! Keep it coming...you have my attention!
