Canada or Bust!

Sort through your crayon box ... find just the right one ... yeah, that's it ... the one labeled "gone." Color me gone.

This'll be the first time I've ever ridden with a two-way radio piped into my helmet. I can talk to truckers ("Get the hell outta my way, Road Hog!"), ask about important points of interest ("Where did you say that friggin' cop is hiding?!?!"), and keep in touch with my riding partner ("Greg, I gotta stop to pee!"). It's a Midland 40-channel citizen's band and weather radio combined with a J&M headset. I had some reservations about hacking up the interior of my Scorpion helmet to install the headset, so I went back to the old Shoei that I quit wearing a year or so ago. No worries, though; everything went in just fine despite some insane Styrofoam-hazy moments between me and the Exacto knife. Seems to work like a charm, but this'll be its first true road test. I can use the headset to pipe my iPod tunes into my helmet, too, but I suspect at speed I'll need to switch to my earbuds. Pink Floyd and the drone of hundred mph wind just don't mix all that well.

My friends Greg and Elaine will be on their luxurious new Goldwing, relaxing, playing ping-pong in the rec room, watching satellite television on the bigscreen, and so on. Damn thing probably has a trunk monkey that fixes margaritas and nachos en route. When the ZZR and I are shivering in Glacier National Park, Greg and Elaine will be toasting their fannies on heated seats while the trunk monkey passes them hot chocolate -- complete with those little marshmallows bobbing like exclamation marks on the sea of euphoria that follows a truly epic ride. Some people are just spoiled, I tell ya!

Full ride report when the ZZR and I get back, approximately four thousand miles older and wiser.