US MotoGP Day 15-16

Northern Utah

Starbucks coffee shops are great when you really need Internet. Very pricey but cheaper than a hotel room. Usually we could update the blog from our hotel, but sometimes I had to find alternatives like Starbucks. Of course, most of the places we rode didn’t have those overpriced coffee houses around.

The trip across northern Utah was not nearly as scenic as Southern Utah. In fact, it wasn’t a lot better than Nevada. A bit cooler in spots but straight flat roads and still plenty of heat and boring highway.

That night we finally made it way after dark to Grand Junction CO. The last 150 miles was at dusk or later, riding through open rangeland and over mountain passes teeming with deer, cows, and antelope. There were plenty around, and even a few that met an untimely fate on the front of a Ford truck bumper.

Colorado

Our hotel in Grand Junction was right on the highway. Luckily we were able to pull the bikes into the hotel room for protection. CBR’s are much more popular with the thieves than Harley’s or Goldwings. The next morning we had to sneek out with cleaning ladies all around. I don’t think they spoke English so couldn’t complain to us too much.

Our last day’s good ride was all through Colorado, including Lake City and Creed, Wolf Creek Pass and then down to Taos for the night. I used to think Colorado had great roads, but compared to California they were just OK. The quick handling CBR straightens out any twisty road with aplomb.

Once again we were arriving after dark at our destination after 500 miles of hard riding. As we approached the pass near Las Piedras, NM the rain we had been avoiding most of our trip finally arrived. Donning rain gear, we pointed the CBR’s east into the downpour. The summit was at 10,500 feet and it got very cold and wet there. Crawling along at 50 mph in the drenching rain, Adam and I both thought “déjà vu” in that we had done this same pass in the same rain 2 years ago. It took nearly two hours of riding in the cold wet rain to finally arrive in Taos well after dark, our face shields fogging an dripping from the rain, headlights glaring from passing cars, our bodies tense and tired from the long wet cold ride. Luckily we found a room at a nice hotel with a hot tub. A cold beer in the hot tub soaked our pain away. Ahhh.

HOME

Next morning we launched out of Taos for home. I used to really love the road between Toas, over to Angel Fire and to Cimarron, but some knuckleheaded road maintenance supervisor had decided to put chip seal in all the twisty corners. Man, that stuff sucks for sport bikes or motorcycles of any kind. Composed of an oily tar-like substance mixed with loose gravel, the presence of this stuff makes any rider grimace. Forced to slow down, the roads were not nearly as fun as in past trips to the area.

Dropping out of the mountains we were faced with the long hot boring ride home. Speed and a good radar detector helps, but rolling into Amarillo after a 100 mile high speed run down the Interstate, our tires looked like they were on their last legs. Rubber was bubbling up and peeling off the rear, blisters down the middle, I was really worried about making it home. Since it was 4:00 pm on Saturday we couldn’t get a bike shop to put tires on before the weekend. Faced with three days in Amarillo or a slow ride home, we decided lower the speed to a pedestrian 70 mph and stop every 50 miles to baby our tires with cool wet water. This seemed to do the trick as we finally arrived home around 10:00 pm Saturday night, tired and glad to be home.

Final result – 16 days of hard fast riding, 5,600 miles, two sets of sticky tires, and lots of fun.

US MotoGP Day 13-14

110 Degrees in the Nevada desert

We had hoped to take a more northern route home so it would be cooler than in the south. Looking at the temps yesterday I guess it was a bit cooler than the Phoenix area, which recorded 115, but I don’t think 110 is all that much better if you ask me.

Wednesday morning we left northeast California for the corner of Oregon. It was only about 60 miles out of the way and we could add it to our list of “states visited on motorcycle”. Even the southeast corner of Oregon is pretty in a dry sort of way. I just love that state. Goofy deal with gas, their law requires an attendant to pump the gas. We would not let them do that and in that remote area of Oregon the attendants were OK with us filling our bikes.

Our route out of Oregon called for several long legs with questionable gas availability. 100 miles down the road our first stop was the one store town of Adel, Oregon. The store didn’t look like much from the outside, but the inside was just totally cool. Wild animal mounts hung all over the walls, branding irons from the ceiling, old farm and ranching tools on the counters, old spurs, all kinds of cowboy and western stuff. An old timer was setting at a table, eating peanuts and drinking root beer. Adam and I chatted with him a bit, he raised cattle and quarter horses in the area. He looked to be about 85 years old and still ranched in the area. There was a giant mountain lion mount over our head and he said they still had big problems with mountain lions and the recently introduced wolves. He lost five quarter horse colts last year to mountain lions. Needless to say, the ranchers are not too fond of them.

From Adel it was 70 miles to the next “town” of Denio. Nobody was sure if there was gas available a Denio. Some cowboy we talked to said gas was available at Fields Oregon, but I couldn’t find it on the map and he wasn’t very clear as to where it was located. We didn’t want to backtrack 150 miles to take another route, so we forged ahead.

No Gas in Denio

A ride isn’t an adventure without a bit of drama. It is just a regular old ride. We arrived in Denio, Nevada and found everything shuttered. A sign instructed us as to the options for gas – none of them all that good. Two options were about 80 miles away, which were absolute max (untested) range for our bikes, even using reserve. The other option was for Fields, Oregon – 22 miles in the wrong direction. However, Fields was not listed on any map or my GPS so it was a crapshoot if it even existing. All we had to go on was the comments of a cowboy that said Fields had gas, and a handwritten sign claiming gas available in Fields. On top of that, this was a very desolate area, nothing but tumbleweeds, rock and sand around. The road to Fields didn’t look too well traveled so if we made that choice, and there was not fuel available, we were going to be a in a big time pickle, with not enough fuel to get anywhere else and very little traffic – plus temps at 100+. Nothing like a bit of adventure to make things interesting.

So off to Fields we went. As we approached the 20 mile mark there was nothing in site and both Adam and I were thinking “this looks bad”. Luckily, we rounded a corner (not many of those in that part of the country) and alas, there was a tree-lined oasis of Fields. Again a one store “town” of maybe 15 houses, but they did have fuel, a small restaurant and convenience store.

Topping the tanks, we turned around and drove 22 miles back to Denio, then the 100 miles on to Winnemucca, Nevada. Being on I-80 it was a decent sized town with gas and even a Subway. Long, hot, boring ride with 30 mile straights and maybe 3 curves in 100 miles. On top of that a couple of construction crews were working on the roads, we got to stop in the heat and wait on the pilot cars, then drive the oily, rock chip filled roads. A nice coating of tar and rock chips adorned the bikes.

Winnemucca was blistering hot, right smack in the middle of the Nevada desert, with only man-made shade anywhere around. After gas and resting at the Subway we pushed on, this time along I-80 so we could find fuel. We much prefer to ride back roads rather than Interstate, but with the heat and the problem finding gas, we decided to just make time on the boring hot ride across Nevada. Hooking up with a guy on a VFR returning from the races, we made good time on the Interstate, cruising around 90 mph. It sure ate up our rear tires with the heat and high speeds. I am seriously wondering if we are going to make it home on these rear tires.

Bonneville

After spending the night the Morman casino mecca of Wendover, Nevada, we jumped on the bikes early on Thursday with plans of making Colorado today. This is my first time driving across the salt flats. We could see Bonneville racetrack to our right, just flat sand marked with paint. Pulling off for pictures, Adam tried riding out across the sand flats but quickly figured out that it was not the time of year for that yet. The mud was soft and once you broke through the salt it was pretty ugly.

We finally made it to Salt Lake City around noon. After attempting to ride backroads to Park City, we were forced to backtrack 40 miles and follow I-80 again to Park City. Good old Starbucks provided the opportunity to update our blog once again.

Hopefully we will be riding twisties to Colorado today.

US MotoGP Day 11-12

California is HUGE

Man, I just didn’t realize how big California is. You always think of Texas and Alaska being the really big states, but it is a LONG ways from central California to northern California. I can’t imagine riding from southern California to Oregon or Washington, that would be a really long ways to ride.

After our scary trip through San Francisco and across the Golden Gate Bridge, we spent all morning on Monday doing laundry, repacking, shipping some extra stuff back to Oklahoma, and resting. Back on the bikes at noon, our goal was to get as far north along the coast as possible. Since we wanted to ride Highway 1 we couldn’t make great time since it is tight, twisty with a fair amount of traffic. The further north we got the thinner the traffic got. The road was just awesome, very scenic and twisty along the coast. However, it was COLD. We had our cold weather clothing on and our heated vests going and it was still cold. Go 20 miles inland and it might be 100+ degrees, but right along the coast it was closer to 50-60 degrees, which is pretty cold for riding. We were very glad to have the heated vests. I can see why all the riders have full leathers.

There were literally thousands of riders heading north along the coast after the races. We were able to talk to quite a few of them and passed lots more. Every gas stop saw bikes by the dozen. In some places we would be in a line of about 20 sport bikes all rolling through the corners at high speed in a congo line. Adam and I ran a pretty good pace and only a few were able to pass me, and I don’t think anyone was able to pass Adam. He did get some excitement from a near high side. Scared to dickens out of him. He was looking back in his mirror while turning a curve and his rear end slid out quite a ways on him. It then caught traction and nearly flipped him over the top of the bike. I am thinking he hit some sand or leaves or something he didn’t see. He slowed down after that and was pretty shaken up. We also heard about a guy riding down from British Columbia that hit a deer in the area. He survived and still made the races, but not something we wanted to experience. Lots of deer have crossed our path on the ride, and it I think even though you can be cautious and keep a close eye out for them, it is just dumb luck to get hit by one. I have hit three deer while driving cars and I never saw a single one until they hit me. You just never know and have to be careful at dusk and dawn. However, this guy got hit at 11:00 am so again, you just never know.

We spent the night at a small town in northern California along with about 100 other sportbikes. It is fun to sit on the lawn under the shade and talk motorcycles. You meet the nicest people on a Honda .

Redwoods

This morning we donned the cold weather gear again and traveled through the northern Redwood forests. A side road took us through the Avenue of the Giants with trees up to 360 feet tall and 2,000 years old. They were fascinating to look at as we meandered 36 miles through these huge forests.

Deciding we had better start making time towards home, we turned east a bit sooner than planned. I had wanted to ride up to the Oregon coast but it is much further than I had thought and we were both getting tired of the cold. Well, it didn’t take long and we were wishing we were back in the cold! About 100 miles east of the coast in Redding CA it was 106 degrees! It is just like riding in a blast furnace and even the Joe Rocket cool vests don’t help much. The great roads through the forests helped us forget about the heat for a bit. Eventually the roads opened up and we were able to pick up the pace and make time. We decided to call it a night on the extreme eastern edge of California, before crossing the Nevada desert. We might run 40 miles north to Oregon and catch the southern edge of Oregon just to say we rode there on a bike.

Tires

Once again we have to pay close attention to tire wear. At least we were using up the edges this time rather than the middle. This is the first time I have warn the rubber whiskers off the sides of my rear tire. I am slowly getting smoother, faster and better in the corners. Adam has been coaching me and it feels safer and faster.

Tomorrow we head across the desert again – boo.

US MotoGP Day 7-10

Finally - Laguna Seca!

Finally we made it back from the spectacle of MotoGP – camping in primitive conditions, walking until our legs felt like jelly, sunburn so bad you can’t put your helmet on without a big grimace, no Internet, vendor tents larger than a 747 hangar, and breathtakingly fast handlebar to handlebar racing non-stop racing. MotoGP is big-time racing. The best of the best in the world were there, along with tons of celebrities to watch them. The last time I witnessed this type of activity was at a NASCAR race. Big expensive corporate helicopters shuttling the likes of Michael Jordon and Arnold Schwarzenneger to the races, lines for autographs snaking into the next county, more money in fancy painted 18 wheelers than many countries possess. The difference in MotoGP vs NASCAR or AMA racing is that they race all over the world – from China to Spain to Brazil to Australia and all over Europe. Hence they have to ship all that equipment and support vehicles via air freight. Quite an expensive proposition.

All the big factory teams are there – Honda, Kawasaki, Suzuki, Ducati, Yamaha. Noticeably absent is Harley Davidson and BMW. Both have rich racing heritages but in the past 30 years or so both have spurned competitive motor sports to build overweight, overpriced but highly successful non-racing products. BMW had a big booth at the races but they do not participate.

As we arrived at the California coast, Adam quickly fell in the love with the area just as I had the first time I visited. We say more sportbike riders in the first day on the coast, dressed in full leathers, than I have seen in a decade of riding in Oklahoma. The California coast is a mecca of sportbikes, with moderate weather year round, twisty, winding roads everywhere, and traffic in the populated areas that will drive you crazy. Adam is ready to live on California as soon as he graduates. I can’t blame him. Other than the mass of other people wanting to live, work and drive there, it is a wonderful place. I can certainly understand the attraction.

Highway 9

Our hotel concierge told us to be sure and ride Highway 9 south out of the bay area. Good choice. The interstates around here are very scary when you don’t know where you are going. I just about got plastered more than once while trying to navigate and watch the road at the same time. Adam ended up watching my backside while I watched out front and did the navigation. We also decided it was much safer to ride fast and aggressive rather than slow and tentative. It is far better to be passing traffic that you can see in front of you rather than to have traffic passing us from behind where we can’t keep a good eye on them. One mistake on the interstate and you are in serious trouble on a bike, with 8 lanes of traffic all running in your direction at 80 mph.

Before long we dropped out of the south Bay area and immediately we were on Highway 9, a nice, scenic, twisted, smooth piece of pavement running south to Santa Cruz. Amazing how you can be in packed traffic one minute, and beautiful winding twisty roads the next. Nice. There were hundreds of sportbikes doing the same thing we were doing. We passed them coming and going, all dressed in full colorful leathers, leaning over in the curves, running in a fast conga line with other bikes. Nary a Harley or Goldwing in site. Life is good.

Monterey

After the 30 miles or so of Highway 9 we were back on the main Highway 1 that runs up and down the coast of California. It was packed with traffic so the going was slow to Monterey. We finally made it there and stopped for lunch at the wharf. Later we visited Cannery Row, where hundreds of sport bikes were lined up and down the streets. This was supposed to be the happening place on Friday and Saturday night of the races, although we were so tired at night we did not visit except for that first day. As you might expect on the coast, the seafood was excellent, the weather a bit cool, and all the bikes were a nice visual benefit.

Laguna Seca

After doing a bit of searching we found Laguna Seca on Thursday afternoon. This is a very famous racetrack right outside Monterey, nestled in the hills with very expensive homes all around. They only have a few big races each year because the residents don’t like the traffic and noise. The biggest problem with Laguna Seca is there are only a few two lane roads into and out of the track, so this makes it very difficult to host these large events. Traffic on race day is just unbelievable, hence our decision to camp at the track. Luckily motorcycles can split lanes and this time they allowed us to ride on the shoulder so it wasn’t as bad as driving a car – poor drivers.

While the track has a long storied history of famous races, I was not that impressed. It was not a spectator’s track. We ended up having to hike all over the place to get decent views of the racing action, up and down steep hillsides. There is no one place where you get great views of all the action so you end up hiking a mile or more from one viewing spot on the track to another. No shuttles, no vehicles allowed in the good areas, just miles of hiking.

Luckily the racing was excellent so that made up for the four days of long hiking. The American Motorcycling Association (AMA) had national races as part the weekend events, sandwiched around MotoGP practice,qualifying and racing. MotoGP is the big world-level event, while AMA racing was the filler events. So lots of action all weekend. There were also hundreds of vendor tents to visit, selling everything you could want for your motorcycle from tires to exhaust systems to clothing. Adam and I had paddock passes so we were able to get into the pits to see all the cool race bikes and team trailers. Pretty colorful and exciting.

Racing

In the first 50 years of international Grand Prix (now MotoGP) racing, Europeans dominated the sport. In the late 70’s along came Kenny Roberts and a host of other Americans, and using their flat track racing style they dominated for the next 20 years. Then a few years ago a young Italian named Valentino Rossi came along and changed the faced of MotoGP. Many say he is the greatest motorcycle racer of all time, and I would not argue with that assessment. He is certainly the highest paid motorcycle racer of all time, pulling in an estimated $26 million per year in salary and endorsements. Not your normal chiseled athlete, he looks more like a horse jockey, standing maybe 5’ tall and 120 lbs. The 23 year old kid can ride a 240 horsepower, fire breathing, 220 mph motorcycle like no other. He has won the last 4 world championships in dominating fashion and has a commanding lead in this years championship.

The big question is can an American unseat him at the first MotoGP race on U.S. soil in 11 years? No American has even won a race in the past 3 years.

Exciting to say, YES! Downhome Kentucky country boy Nicky Haden dominated the weekend, starting from the pole position and leading every lap of the race. Normally I prefer to see some dicing for the lead, but in this case it was just too exciting to see Nicky bring home the bacon. He is just the nicest, coolest southern kid from a racing family, and he has been competing in MotoGP for three years with varied results. He rides for Honda so you know he is fast, and this time he used his knowledge of Laguna Seca to bring home the win. Nicky was followed by Texan Colin Edwards, and then Valentino, so Americans claimed the top two podium spots. The fans were going crazy all during the race, everyone standing, yelling, and cheering as the MotoGP bikes blasted by at an eardrum splitting 180 mph, tires searching for grip, front wheels inches off the pavement, the tension high as the race progressed. What a blast and worth the primitive camping, hiking, and sunburn of the past 4 days.

North to the Golden Gate Bridge

After the races on Sunday evening Adam and I packed up and headed north. I wanted to bypass the interstate as much as possible, so we chose Highway 1 north along the coast. Our goal was to get north of the Golden Gate Bridge before the Monday rush hour. Good choice, except that it was very cold and foggy all along the coast. Even though we stopped and put on the heated vests, we were still freezing by the time we made it the 100 miles north to San Francisco. Highway 1 dumps you out on the freeways and downtown streets of San Francisco, which were still packed on a Sunday evening. It was very scary to ride in dense fog, your faceshield fogging up, hour hands not working from the cold, and trying to navigate a maze of highways and turns with cars blasting past all around. We finally dropped in behind some other cyclists returning from the races and followed them across the Bridge. As soon as we got to the other side it cleared up, warmed up and we got a great view of ½ the bridge shrouded in fog, ships steaming into and out of the fog as they made their way seaward.

Last night we finally got back to a hotel and high speed Internet. We crashed in a soft bed. Today is laundry, cleaning the dust from the bikes, and a ride north to the Redwoods of Northern California.

US MotoGP Day 6

Who replaced our engines?

Last night, while Adam and I slept in Sonoro, CA, someone swiped our motorcycles, put in brand new supercharged highly tuned engines, and parked the bikes back exactly as we left them. I swear.

But I get ahead of myself. After a good nights sleep in Sonora we decided to have a leisurely morning and wait until the local motorcycle shops open at 9:00 am see if we could find some tires. We walked downtown and ate breakfast, washed all the dried grasshopper guts off our bikes, and let our fingers do the walking through the Yellow Pages. We finally found a Honda dealer in Modesto that had tires in stock and could change them that day. Their service guy name James (with a name like that, he must be a good guy) even gave us some tips on good roads to ride on the trip from Sonora to Modesto.

We fought traffic and the stifling heat of central California for the 60 miles or so to Modesto. I have always loved the state of California since I first visited in the early 80’s, but boy the traffic is just the worst. The triple digit temps didn’t help – worse than the Nevada desert.

Finally we found Honda Kawasaki of Modesto. I have always found the local dealers to be very helpful when traveling on a motorcycle, and these guys were no exception. Just let them know you are traveling cross country and they treat you like a king. Even though we arrived around lunchtime, they found the tires we needed and jumped right on changing both bikes. Adam and I had lunch and when we got back the service department was almost done with our bikes. We spent time talking to the owner and his son (can’t remember their names but will get them and post here) and they showed us all the old bikes they collected, the custom dirt bike they built, and were just very interested in our trip and our gear and the fact we were father/son riding sportbikes across the country. Very, very nice folks and great service. In just a couple of hours we were on our way with new rubber, along with new Honda-Kawasaki of Modesto t-shirts. We plan to save them for race day. We were also told to be sure and visit Cannery Row in downtown Monterrey on Friday and Saturday night for bike night. It will be absolutely packed with sport bikes and should be a really good time. We certainly plan to attend.

Leaving Modesto we pointed west to catch one of the many interstates in California. Heading south through the blistering heat, we found a small side road on the map that lead from the interstate, up over the hills, to San Jose. Our plan was to go 60 miles further south and then head to Monterrey, but it was so darn hot we wanted to get to the cool coast ASAP.

New #1 sport bike road in America

OK, I changed my vote. Highway 12 in Utah was the past champion and still runnerup. But Adam and I found a new #1. It was unanimous. It is not much of a road and very, very little traffic, which is amazing since the road dumps out right in San Jose CA, a very big city connected to San Francisco. I can see why it is very lightly traveled by normal vehicles. First, it doesn’t go anywhere, but more importantly because it is about 60 miles of the most twisted, curved, steep, winding pavement I have every had the privilege to ride. Everyone talks about “The Dragon” in North Carolina, but I can’t see how it can be any better than this. I swear we rode 60 miles in first and second gear, diving corner to corner, over and over and over again. By the time we got done both of our wrists were worn out, our bodies exhausted, and our new tires were well broken in. I have no idea how those Honda brakes can hold up to the abuse we put them through, but they were still working like new at the end. The road climbs 4,000 feet up the mountains and back down again. I kid you not, 60 nonstop miles with maybe 5 cars the entire way, no police, a few deer, squirrels and other critters, and some scattered bicyclists. Nobody in a car drives this unless they have to, since they would be sick when they got done and they can only go about 10 mph the entire route. It took us nearly 3 hours to ride this thing – with a couple of brief stops for pictures and rest. The pavement wasn’t the best, but that just added to the challenge. It was not nearly as dangerous as Sonora Pass, but just mile after mile after mile of 15-25 mph corners, end on end, with maybe 100 yard straights in between. They don’t make roads like this in Oklahoma!

Back to the engines

And this brings me back to the engine swap on our bikes. Our trip started in Oklahoma, with an elevation around 1,200 feet above sea level. We jumped right on the Interstate and got to the Rockies and really didn’t start putting the bikes to hard use until we were at 7,000 foot elevation. The rest of our ride has been at 5,000 feet or above until today. We started today’s spirited ride at 140 ft altitude and holy crap batman, the bikes were un-frickin-believable. Adam and I both were just amazed at how much more power our bikes had. It was downright scary, even for Adam, who is a great rider and very familiar with his bike. The CBR1000RR goes from lighting fast to oh-my-god-this-thing-is-scary-fast when at sea level. You can light up the rear tire in any gear at any time. Lift the front wheel in any gear at any time. In the mountains we were starting the curves at 7-8K rpm and accelerating to 10K and the bike would leap forward. But down here, acceleration at 7-8K scared the crap out of me. Even Adam was astonished, although he was loving the newfound power, spinning that rear tire through every corner. Even I would light up the rear tire at times while leaned over. A couple of times I wheelied out of corners while still leaned over, the front end shaking it’s head in anger, ready to leap forward like a wild mustang. The pavement was like sandpaper so the grip from the new tires was just awesome. However, you could still spin the rear tire and have the bike wheelie while leaned over, scrubbing off that expensive rubber. I was intimidated by the power and finally started riding the twisted road in a higher gear so that I was accelerating out at 5K rpm rather than 7-8K. This made the bike much more manageable for me and didn’t scare the pants off me with the acceleration.

Of course Adam was having a blast, wearing out his knees, scraping his boots and the side of his pants, leaving long rubber marks out of the turns. He would leave me behind in just 2-3 turns and end up waiting for me about 20 miles down the road. In the past I would worry about him riding so hard on the street, but he has proven to me many times over that he is a very safe rider. I had another motorcyclist say to me the other day “you let your son drag his knees on public roads?” Well, first off, he is 18 so can do what he wants, and second, he is an excellent rider, far better than I ever was, and has been riding since he was 4 years old. And thirdly, I have seen him scrape his knees through corner after corner after corner, very safely. We have seen thousands of corners on this trip and many other trips, some with dirt or gravel in the corners, some with oil, sand, cars, deer, and all kinds of crap you see on a public highway. Although an aggressive rider, he knows when to go fast and when to be cautious. He has proven to me many times over that he is a safe rider so I let him do what we wants and just cheer him on. I still give him safety and bike tips from time to time, but nowadays I am learning from him as much as he is learning from me.

Tonight we are staying near San Jose and plan to ride some local roads along the coast, where it is nice and cool, and hopefully end up around Monterrey for the races.

US MotoGP Day 5

Nevada Desert

The name struck fear in the hearts of westerners in 1800’s. I can certainly see why. I have flown over the Nevada desert several times in a small plane and was amazed by the emptiness. However, there is nothing like riding a motorcycle across it to make you realize how easy it would be to die there.

Adam and I have been planning our desert crossing for several days. The heat and lack of fuel stops was our big concern. On most bikes the fuel wouldn’t be such an issue, but our sport bikes only have a range of about 130 miles before hitting reserve. It is easily 130+ miles between fuel stops in the Nevada desert. You miss or pass by on one fuel stop and you could be a in a world of hurt. Our plan was to cross from Cedar City to Yosemite. There are several dots on the map indicating “towns” but I have ridden in the west long enough to question the existence of some of these towns. Good thinking, many we went through were abandoned or without fuel. We talked to one FZ1 rider from New York that said he ran out of fuel crossing the Mojave and had to wait for an hour in the heat for someone to pass and give him a ride, then he had to get back to his bike with fuel, it was a real mess and cost him some bucks. He had never ridden out west before and said he had always found fuel ever 60 miles or so but that many of the “towns” he had passed didn’t have fuel. Duh.

Leaving out of Cedar City early to beat the heat, we found out we beat it all right. It was COLD! We froze our butts off and had to stop and put on additional clothing. I kept thinking the sun would come up and things would warm up, but since the Mojave is at 5,000 foot elevation it took a while to warm up. That afternoon the desert would talk to us at things heated up nicely. Our Joe Rocket Sahara cool vests worked well in the afternoon, making the desert crossing much more bearable. In fact, I found the ride with the cool jackets to be very pleasant. We would wet them down at each fuel stop and they would keep us nice and cool until our next fuel stop. My iPod locked up right as we left Cedar City so I was forced to spend the day listening to the whine of the CBR – nice but not for10 hours of flat roads.

Speed

The way to get across the desert is to use lots of throttle. The ride is mostly flat, the roads are good, and you can see for like 75 miles. You can see a car coming for 15 miles even at our average speed of 100+ mph, you watch it grow for 1-2 minutes until you finally fly by it. That might be the only car you see for 50 miles. On one 120 mile stretch I counted 3 vehicles that we passed. No houses, no barns, no stores, no signs of civilization except the arrow straight highway disappearing into the distance. We set the bikes on 100 mph and just cruised. The other vehicles we passed were doing between 85-90 mph so we were not going much faster than the other traffic around. You would see a car ahead going in the same direction, and even at 105 mph it would take minutes to catch and pass them. We could have cruised faster except my helmet would try to suck off my head. Adam’s helmet had a spoiler so he didn’t have that trouble. Gotta get me one of those.

Grasshoppers

Cruising at high speed across the desert, I started feeling what I thought were rocks hitting my boots. I though my tire was kicking up some loose gravel or something. I saw Adam drop way back in my mirror so I slowed. He slowed even further. Finally I waited for him to catch up and he was coated with grasshopper juice. We had run into a huge infestation of grasshoppers in the desert. We ran side by side for about 20 miles so that the person in front didn ‘t kick up the grasshoppers onto the person behind. There were thousands if not millions of grasshoppers all over the place. You couldn’t see them on the road unless you slowed down, but you could certainly feel them plastering your boots as we sped by. I believe we wiped out thousands of grasshoppers.

Fuel

Fuel was more critical than water to us. With fuel we could find water. Without fuel we would run out of water. We quickly learned to ask the locals at each fuel stop whether we could find fuel along our next stretch. At Ash Springs we asked if there was any fuel between there an Tonopah, 180 miles away. They hummed and hawed, and one guy said there was a 20% chance there would be fuel available in Rachel NV. Other than that, no.

Humm. Our bikes might be able to stretch our total fuel to 180 miles if we used reserve and was conservative with the throttle. We had hear reports of guys getting 200 miles out of a tank, but we had never experience that. The most we ever got was 136 miles before reserve, and once I went 160 miles total with 25 on reserve. So we really were not sure if we could make it if fuel was unavailable. Our other option was to divert 250 miles south.

Humm. OK, we figured out the solution was to buy some water in bottles, dump the water, and then fill them with fuel. We strapped those on the back of my bike behind my luggage, wrapped them in a plastic bag, and this way Adam could keep an eye on the fuel as we drove. Big mistake.

Luckily we found fuel in Rachel, but when we pulled the fuel bottles off my bike we also found that they had leaked. The plastic bag did not hold the fuel either, so now the fuel had leaked onto my tail section of the bike. Fuel and paint don’t mix, so now the paint was ruined in my beautiful CBR. That sucked big-time. I guess you live and learn. I just seem to learn many of my lessons the hard way.

Bubba Tate – Motorcycle Patrol Officer – Tonopah, NV

If you ever find yourself in Tonopah NV on a motorcycle, you will probably meet Bubba Tate on his Harley police bike. Tonopah is pretty small, right in the middle of the desert – although they do have a McDonald’s. Bubba was running radar but no problem for us since we had our radar detector. However, Bubba makes it a point to stop and talk to all the riders passing through. He is just the nicest guy you could ever meet and an avid motorcyclist. He has family in Oklahoma so we talked a bit about that. He also provided invaluable information on riding in California, giving us great routes, scenic views, places to stay, etc. He warned us to divert around Yosemite and take a route around the north side. He said it was much less traveled, just as scenic, and a twisted, crooked SOB with some very, very steep grades. He was not exaggerating one bit. Absolutely great advice we would discover later. Bubba, if you ever get to Oklahoma be sure and look me up.

Sierra Nevada

After the mind-numbing drone across the desert, we were greeted with the stunning beauty of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Wow. Again I have flown over them, driven all through the Rockies and Tetons, but I was still floored by the Sierra Nevada mountains. We used Bubba’s spectacular route and man, he was not kidding. On the way up Sonora Pass it is one twisted, crooked, steep, winding piece of asphalt. I think the road designers must have been from San Francisco in the 60’s and high on LSD when they designed it. I have NEVER seen a more twisted road in my life. I rode in first gear most of the time, flicking from side to side, up and down, wheeling and tire spinning as we climbed. Adam even got airborne on some of the humps and bumps. The road was fun, but not my favorite, since there was no way you could be smooth and aggressive. It was way too dangerous to really hang it out and drag a knee, to tight to get into a rhythm, and just a really difficult, but fun ride.

After we crested the summit at 9,800 feet we started down the other side. Our normal aggressive ride slowed to a crawl as we both looked in awe at the scenery. WOW. No way you want to hammer down the west side of the Sierra’s. It is stunningly beautiful with huge cliff faces, gigantic trees, crystal clear waterfalls. Eventually we just turned off the bikes, but them in neutral, and coasted down the mountain in silence. No traffic to speak of, just nature in it’s finest splendor all around. Nothing to say but WOW – WOW – WOW.

Of course, being the sportbike riders we are, once we coasted about 10 miles past the really good stuff we got into a coasting race! That was really fun. The road was really tight, twisted and steep so we got up some pretty good speed. I was Valentino Rossi and Adam was Colin Edwards. We were dicing for the lead at the US MotoGP, stuffing each other on corners, going around the outside, showing the other person a wheel in the corners, battling for position. Since the bikes were turned off we could talk smack all the way down. We only passed one car so no traffic to deal with. I ended up beating Adam – twice. Gravity plus weight = coaster race winning. I finally found something on a bike where I could beat Adam . I guess he will need to put on a few pounds to compete with the champion!

At the end of the day we stopped in Sonora CA. 630 miles total, a very long day. Our rear tires are shot, so now we are on a quest for a dealer with tires.

US MotoGP Day 4

Highway 12 in Utah – Voted best sportbike road in America

At least it has that vote by me, and now Adam. What a road. We pulled out of Torrey Utah about 9:00 am local and it was still pretty chilly. I was thinking about putting on my heated vest, since at daybreak the temperature was in the low 50’s. But being in the high desert southwest, I knew it wouldn’t be long until it warmed up nicely. By the time we departed temps were in the 60’s so we just went with a jacket liner under our Joe Rocket mesh vests. Good choice.

The ride starts out on a long, sweeping climb to 10,000 feet in a national forest. Very few cars that time of day. There were several bovines and deer in the area, so we kept speeds down a notch. Just fast, easy 80 mph sweepers through tall pines, aspen, and cedars. Wildflowers were blooming all around, making it seem like we were riding through a Charles Russell painting. Old corrals, horses grazing in the pasture, and hawks circling overhead completed the picture. Made me think I was an old-time cowboy, riding my trusty steed through the old west wilderness, in awe of the scenery as it unfolded before me. The CBR’s throaty exhaust whine was muffled by the rock and roll tunes blasting from my iPod. I knew Adam was having a good time because of the fist pumping he would do every few miles.

After the fast, scenic sweepers the road drops down off the mountain in a series of tight switchbacks, taxing the brakes of the CBR once again. Slow for the town of Boulder, then wick up the throttle again as the road climbs up onto a sharp spiny ridge in a series of 30 mph turns. The scenery changes drastically, from awesome old-growth forests to bare slickrock canyons etched by eons of wind and rain. Both sides of the highway drop sharply into the broken canyons below, warning you that if you make a mistake it is going to really, really hurt, all the way to the bottom.

That was just the first 40 miles. THEN comes the really good part. The last 20 miles before Escalante is just a sportbike heaven. The road drops from the top of the ridge down into the rugged canyon below, arcing down the canyon in tight, dangerous, yet exhilarating turns. One turn in particular got both Adam’s and my attention. It is a tight decreasing radius turn at the end of a short, steep downhill. The outside of the curve was lined with concrete barriers and warning sings, probably as a result of all the vehicles that had gone over the side. There were certainly plenty of tire marks and deep gouges in the concrete of the barricades, indicating that plenty of people had still not heeded the warnings. While we passed this turn at different times – Adam well ahead of me – both of us had the same eye-opening, butt tightening, white knuckle experience. The steepness of the downhill fools you and you carry a LOT more inertia down the hill than you think. All of a sudden you are thinking “uh oh” and you grab the brakes with two fingers instead of one. The barricade is coming up very, very quickly, but man oh man, those CBR brakes are just stunning. They scrub off the inertia and speed in just a couple of seconds, turning a white knuckle experience into a good bench racing story.

After dropping into the bottom of the canyon you arc your way through a series of tight 20 mph blind S turns, sheer solid cliff walls inches from your handlebars. There aren’t any straights to speed of, just slam on the brakes, arc through the corner, accelerate hard out for about 2 seconds, and then slam on the binders again while flicking the bike over the other way for the next corner. Do this about 10 times straight, then you cross a bridge onto a nice increasing radius climb up out of the canyon. You can start accelerating hard with the bike healed over, spinning the rear tire if you are Adam – not me. This is a steep, steep climb and the 200 yard straight gets you just enough time to wrap the bike out in first, then second, then third gear. The CBR just leaps forward up this hill when shifted at 11,000 RPM, the front end an inch from the pavement. It is easy for even me to hit about 120 mph on this short straight. Nothing to get in the way, a sheer rock face on one side and a canyon dropoff on the other. Brake for the sweeping right hander as you climb and life is good, good, good.

After our fun in the canyon, we stopped and were both grinning like drunken sailors. I looked at Adam, he looked at me, and we both said at the same time “Wanna do it again?” Heck yea! So we go back the other way to the spiny ridge, stop and talk to some other riders from Wisconsin, then do the same thing again on the way back. We spent most of the morning on Highway 12. It was just about worth the ride just by itself.

Escalante to Panguitch

We stopped in Escalante for fuel and lunch. Our buddies from Wisconsin were there so we had lunch with them. They were also heading to the races, one on a BMW K1200LT, another on a BMW R1200GS, and the third on a Honda Interceptor. The K1200LT guy had a wooden leg but seemed to handle the bike without a problem. As Adam and I were readying to leave, two couple from North Dakota stopped in for lunch on big Harley’s touring bikes. Once again we talked to them, but they had not heard of the races, just out for a couple of week tour of the southwest.

Rolling out of Escalante we were met with hot temperatures and fast roads. Our Sahara vests worked well. We soak them in water and the gel inside holds the water for several hours. Placed under your jacket, the evaporation cools your body, making it seem like you are riding with air conditioning, even though the temperatures were approaching 100 degrees. Modern high tech clothing is really amazing.

The ride to Panguitch is very scenic. We backed it down a notch for the most part, enjoying the scenery and the winding road. Bryce Canyon was quite unique, along with Red Canyon and all the other national parks and monuments in the area. After fueling in Panguitch we rode over a mountain pass with lots of snow around. Adam did his Titanic scene at 10,500 feet, enjoying the cool weather and great view.

Tonight we are staying in Cedar City, preparing for the hot ride across the Mojave desert tomorrow. We plan to leave about 5:00 am to beat the heat. We just hope we can find fuel on our route, which leads us to Yosemite National Park tomorrow afternoon.

Tires
Tire wear is a big issue. Be laid down a lot of rubber over the last two days, ripping through canyons and flying down long hot straights at triple digit speeds. My plan was to put on new rubber in San Francisco, but I am now hoping we can make it that far. We just clicked over 1,700 miles on our trip and our rear tires are showing some serious wear. Adam’s tire is all bubbled up on the sides (looks cool) while both are getting close to the wear markers in the middle. Modern sportbike rubber is amazingly sticky, which is a very good thing when faced with those whiteknuckle moments (see above) but the price you pay is tires that wear out in about 2,500 miles of hard use. That used to bug me, but nowadays I want the stickiest rubber I can find so I can save myself from my occasional adrenaline rushes and lack of caution. Luckily those are becoming less frequent!

US MotoGP Day 3

Man, life is GOOD!

What a day. Each one gets better than the last (like my marriage).

After a bad night of camping, we woke up early ready to ride, baby, ride. It got a bit chilly at night but as soon as the sun came up it warmed up nicely. Our first destination was Telluride, CO. This has always been our favorite mountain town. This trip however I was not quite as impressed. It has really grown with sidewalks full of people. It has turned into a very expensive mini-Aspen – commercialized and crowded. Not to my liking. It is till a good destination town but just not as good as in the past.

The ride to Telluride was just awesome. Crisp cool morning air, winding, climbing mountain roads, cars to act as pylons as we raced up the canyon. A little too much traffic, but it wasn’t a problem with the 160+ ponies on the CBR’s. Keep the bike at about 7-8 thousand RPM and when you whack the throttle open things happen at warp speed. A deep growl emits out the exhaust, you are thrown back in the seat, the front wheel lifts – even at 85 mph – and WHAM – you rocket past cars like they were tied to the mountainside. Three seconds and you are at 110 mph and accelerating – hard. Better have your helmet strapped on good and tight. Things get really small really quick in your rear view mirror. Adam and I have this timed to perfection. The leader waits for the right moment, signals the pass, and both bikes leap forward in unison, passing 3-4-5 cars in less time than it takes to read this sentence. You have to make sure the other cars are not pulling out to pass at the same time, and that the leader is not turning left, but that knowledge comes from experience.

Western Colorado

After Telluride we decided to take a new route out of Colorado. I have ridden most of the good roads in the Rockies, but Highway 145 and 90 west to Utah is one of the few I have not ridden. Our other choice was Highway 666 out of Cortez, which I have ridden – it sucks. The 145/90 route through Naturita, Bedrock and Paradox was an excellent choice. The route follows the Dolores River part of the way. Right down in the bottom of a tight canyon for 30 miles or so, 80 mph sweepers linked end on end. The road is lightly traveled so you can just let it fly. Just about that time the song “Highway to the Danger Zone” from the movie Top Gun was playing on my iPod. I was rocking! Adam in front leading, the CBR whining at 8-10 thousand RPM, flicking the bike left and right, the canyon a blur as we ripped up the road. Accellerate hard as the bike leaps forward, slam on the brakes for the next corner, downshift, arc through the corner, then hard on the gas on the exit. I finally had to tell myself to SLOW DOWN – I was getting that adrenaline rush again that seems to cause me problems and crashes . I finally backed it off a bit and let Adam disappear down the canyon. I was still having a blast, but just down a notch. Good thinking. Closest hospital was about 90 miles away.

Bugs. Lots and lots of bugs. Especially at 85 mph, they just can’t get out of the way fast enough. The bugs are so bad we have to clean our helmets every stop, and wash our bikes each night. Got to be stylin, can’t have bug-coated crotch rockets.


Utah

I believe southern Utah has some of the most incredible roads and scenery in the U.S. of A. A very desolate area, you can just hammer on the throttle and let her rip. We went from Blanding to Hanksville at an average of 105 mph. This was a 126 mile leg and we saw a total of 10 vehicles on the route. Three of them were riders from Texas on their way to the same races. Unlike Wyoming, where you can also lay on the throttle, southern Utah has just awesome, breathtaking, inspiring scenery. The roads are so smooth it seems we were just gliding at breathtaking speed, a speck of high tech man and machine in a world that is eons old. We would take these big fast sweepers at 100 mph, the suspension working, the tires fighting for grip, the CBR clawing for the sky on the exit. Nobody around. Not a house, not a store, not a gas station, not even an outhouse or barn – for 126 miles. Fuel is certainly a big concern. As we rolled into the gas pumps at Hanksville my low fuel light came on. Glad they were open. Hanksville is nothing more than two gas stations at the crossroads of highway 95 and 24. Not much else around for a long, long, long ways. This is also a stopping point for every motorcyclist passing through the area, since it is the only fuel stop for over a hundred miles. Adam and I sat in the shade and chatted with the other riders. One guy had been riding over 50 years and was on a 2000 mile trip on his Goldwing with his buddy on a Harley.

Our plan was to make Escalante that nigh, but some of the other riders mentioned we might want to stay at Torrey. Arriving around 6:30 pm we found a hotel room available – unusual for a holiday weekend in this part of the country. While it is a desolate area, Torrey is near Capital Reef National Park so a there were a number of tourists staying in the area. After a nice dinner we both crashed in a nice soft bed.

Tomorrow’s plan is to ride my absolute all time favorite road – Highway 12 from Torrey to Escalante. Sixty miles of just the best roads, awesome scenery, and twisty curves. We are thinking of riding it to Escalante, and if we have time, ride it back to Torrey and then back to Escalante again. It is that good.

US MotoGP Day 2

Curvacious Roads

Wow. This is what we came for. All day riding in the most wonderful, winding, twisted roads you could hope for. We have to stop and give thanks to the road designers of 40 years ago who came up with these wonderful designs. Today’s road builders just want to straighten things out. The ones of yesteryear KNEW how to make roads for bikes. Tight 20 mph switchbacks, wide smooth 100 mph sweepers, decreasing radius corners that catch you buy surprise, tight arcing 180 degree bends that open out onto big straights, begging for you to roll on the throttle and power slide out of the turn. They must have been bikers. Yea, that was it. I think they were related, maybe brothers, to the ones in Arkansas.

The difference in the west vs the eastern part of the U.S. of A. is that they have so much darn land out here. They have to connect all these great roads with long stretches of nothing. At least the view is good and the population sparse.

Red River

Next to Telluride CO, Red River is one of my favorite towns. Adam and I discovered it on a dual sport ride 4 years ago. We met up with a bunch of other riders at a bit BMW rally and had a great week of riding. We met a bunch of friends here so it I always fond in our memory. A great place to hang out on main street, wake up early, have some coffee while watching the joggers run by, and best of all, get on your bike in the morning and be in the twisties or the dirt trails about 30 seconds after leaving town.

After a leisurely morning drinking coffee and working on my blog update, we jumped on the bikes about 9:00 am local and hit the asphalt. The weather was brisk and a bit cool, but that just made the ride out of the mountains perfect as we carved corners to Questa. We both were jumping up and down in our seats, pumping our fists as we arced through one corner after another. Funny though, the corners I used to think were a bit tight are don’t seem nearly as tight on the CBR. It handles so well, has smooth electric style power out of the corners, and the light touch one finger brakes just seems to eat up the corners. Man, today’s modern sportbikes are just a huge leap forward from what I remember from years past.

Highway 62

After crossing the Rio Grande Gorge west of Taos we followed US 62 over some mountain pass I can’t remember the name of. Again,m roads that I thought were pretty tight from past rides are just easy sweepers on the CBR. Adam led most of the day today. He liked a bit faster pace through the corners than me, so he would pull away and then wait a bit on me in the straights. Later in the day as I got more comfortable with the bike I was keeping up a bit better, but my last high speed getoff was still fresh in my mind. As usual, we stopped at some scenic lookouts and talked to other bikers. This is one of my favorite pastimes. Most people think I am quiet, but that is probably because they are not bikers or pilots . I like talking to other riders, finding out where they are from, talking about where they are going, how they like their bikes, and all that cool biker stuff. It doesn’t matter if they are on choppers, dirt bikes, crotch rockets, or Goldwings, they are all part of the two wheeled community. They “get it”.

Colorado

We took a new route into Colorado this time. It went from Chama NM up to Alamosa CO. Note to self – don’t take this route again. While the first part of the ride was pretty good, it did not make up for the flat, boring, hot 50 miles into and out of Alamoso. Stay away from Alamosa.

Heading west we went to Creed CO, another favorite mountain town where you can park your bikes on the only main street in town, sit on a bench in front of a downtown store and chat with people as they stroll by. We met a couple from Boston that had flown in to Denver and rented a Harley for a week. You could immediately tell he was from Boston with that Booaston accent. They were on the tail end of a weeks vacation. We talked about old bikes we had, riding dirt bikes with your buddies, wiping out and picking the bike back up while all your buddies took pictures. Creed – great old mining town, be sure to visit, lots of twisty roads around. Be sure to purchase overpriced fuel there, since there are not many fuel choices on the road.

Next stop was Lake City, a 50 mile or so ride from Creek. This goes over Slugmillion pass, which is just awesome. Winding roads up, and really tight winding roads down into Lake City. Adam was dragging his knees on these curves, the best ones yet. He did a great job leading, riding fast but cautious. You have to really watch these passes because often there is gravel or sand in the corners, left over from the snow season. The key is to go in easy and out hard. This way if you see something unexpected you can still get on the binders or cut around it. As you exit the corner and can see out then you can get on the gas. I had been riding the CBR like my ZZR, pulling out of corners at 5000 RPM, but on this leg I figured out that was not the secret. The powerband on the CBR is much more like a 600 than a 1000. It has more power than a 600 all throughout the powerband, but to really make it sing you need to hit the corner apex at about 8000 RPM and exit at 11000 rpm. You do that and the bike just leaps out of the corners. Even at 10,000 ft altitude you could wheelspin on the corner exits if you wish. The bike just handled much, much better. The CBR is so smooth all the way through the powerband, unlike any other bike I have ridden. Even the ZZR, which I thought was pretty smooth, had a buzz at 5k rpm.

Decending into Lake City really puts the brakes to the test. You are diving downhill into really tight, 20 mph corners, carrying a lot of inertia into the corner. The brakes have to scrub off that inertia and on most bikes will start to fade after 10 corners or so. Not the CBR. The brakes work great, one finger power all the way down the pass. I am just constantly amazed by the brakes – without a doubt the most awe-inspiring feature of modern sportbikes.

No air = bad night

We made it to Montrose right before dark, and because of the holidays not a hotel room was to be found. Even the campgrounds were full. We finally found a campground well after dark on the road to Ridgeway. Pitching our tents in the dark was pretty easy since we have camped a bunch. After our shower I was looking forward to a nice soft air mattress but – what was this – it was flat. I swore I aired it up. I blew it up again, went to bed and about 15 minutes later woke up and figured out I was sleeping on the hard ground. I could tell this was going to be a LONG night!

US MotoGP Day 1

RAIN
OK. It hasn't rained in weeks before our trip. Who decided to make it rain TODAY?

I didn't sleep too good, anticipating our departure. After only 3.5 hours of sleep I was ready to go at 3:30 am. I tried waking Adam but he wasn't quite ready yet, even though he told me the night before that he wanted to get up early around 4:00 am and get started. I guess he just didn't want to leave at 3:30 am! I went ahead and moved bikes around so I could get Kay's topless jeep in the garage, pulled the bikes out, and got everything ready. True to his word, Adam ambled out of his room at 4:00 am ready to go.

It was still pretty hot when we pulled out well before daylight. I didn't check any weather since nothing of significance had happened in weeks. Little did I know a major storm was bearing down on central Oklahoma. Kay said it rained 10 minutes after we left. We didn't encounter any rain but started seeing lighting as we drove west on I-40 out of OKC.

It finally hit us in El Reno. We pulled into the Love's just seconds before the deluge. Got the bikes under an awning and sping an hour chatting with a local police officer that has ridden "motors" for years. I learned a lot about the financial end of police motors (motorcycles), quite interesting.

At daybreak we pulled out of El Reno hoping we were past the storm. Fat chance. West of Weatherford we were forced to turn around on I-40 and high tail it back to dryier weather. Hoping to skirt around the south end of the storm, we blasted south down to Corn, OK. What a nice, nice town. Classic small town Oklahoma. Very well kept, a nice town square, a local cafe where we chatted with all the farmers gathered around a central table before heading out to the fields. This is what I love about Oklahoma. The first Saturday night of every summer month they have a big town "jam" session in the central square. People from the county bring their instruments, the cafe opens late for food, and they gather around, play music, the kids dance in the streets, and have just a great local time. This would be an excellent family-oriented destination for a bike ride.

Once again after the rain we headed west. We could have donned the rain gear at any time, but I hate riding in rain unless I have to, so since these were scattered fast moving storms we just waited them out and tried skirting around them. However, 30 miles down the road at Cordell we were forced to stop again. What another great town. We have a hospital customer in Cordell so I knew the town a bit. We pulled up under an awning on main street and sat on a park bench while waiting for the rain to subside - again.

Texas at 104 mph

Finally around 9:00 am we were able to hit the road again and make some time. Catching I-40 at Sayre, the CBR's got to stretch their legs. At one point some gal with California tags in a Neon blew buy us at 100+ mph. We just tucked in about 200 yards off her tail and made some good time. She wasn't too smart, hanging out in the left lane blasting down I-40, but she was good for us. We stayed in the right lane except to pass and let her be our "rabbit" while using our radar detectors to scan ahead. Our average speed during this leg was about 104 mph! No complaints here.

East of Amarillo we were forced to pull off for fuel. It was starting to get hot now so we shedded our warm clothes we had put on in Korn. The Joe Rocket mesh jackets work great - you can layer up under them or shed clothing when it gets hot and stay reasonable even when the temps soar.

Hooters

Adam was leading the leg into Amarillo. Lunch time was approaching so he pulled into IHOP. I saw a sign for Hooters so as we pulled into the IHOP parking lot, I suggested a local with better "scenery". He quickly agreed so we stopped at Hooters for lunch. While the scenery was fantastic (I had no idea they had that many cute young girls in Amarillo fricken TX) it got packed at lunch and we lost an hour of time there.

New Mexico - finally

5 hours later than planned we finally crossed the New Mexico line. Nice and hot, but it could have been much worse. Temps were in the high 90's. Our last trip the temps were in the 110's so we were not complaining too much. Stopping in Tucumcari for fuel, we met a guy and his wife on a Goldwing that had been traveling from Las Vegas AZ to the east coast for 2 weeks and were on their way home. I love chatting with other motorcycle riders when we stop. We get to swap stories, compare bikes, and generally get to meet some really neat people. I can't remember their names - my brain is toast sometimes.

Rain AGAIN

It is long hot lonely ride from Tucumcari to Las Vegas NM. We made good time but couldn't really put the hammer down since it the road is narrow and some critter might jump out of the weeds at any time. As we topped the hill about 10 miles from Las Vegas we started hitting rain again. Another 180 back about 2 miles and we sat and watched as the rain shaft just sat on top of the town of Las Vegas. After a spell we decided to buck up and put on the rain gear. A downpour greeted us as we drove into Las Vegas. A friendly Shell station with some other bikers welcomed us from the rain. Once again we got to talk to a guy on his customized Kawasaki Vulcan as we both waited on the rain - and then hail - to subside.

TWISTIES

Finally, finally we got to pull out of Las Vegas and hit some twistie, winding pavement on the way to Angel Fire and our final destination, Red River. The roads weren't great but compared to the flat boring stuff we had been on, we were both pretty pumped. Adam and I would swap taking the lead. By this time I had fallen even deeper in love with my CBR. We put on 625 miles that day and I was very, very comfortable the entire trip. I started getting just a bit tired the last 80 miles, but overall I was amazed at how comfortable the CBR was. I actually prefer it to my BMW or any other bike I have owned as far as long distance cruising. Of course, when we hit the curves, I had a smile a mile wide. It is so responsive, light weight and agile, it is just a joy to ride. Passing anyone takes only a couple of seconds. You can be following someone at 65mph and rocket by them in about 2-3 seconds without even downshifting. Nice.

Red River

After 15.5 hours and 625 miles we pulled into Red River around 6:30 pm (5:30 mountain). Red River is one of my all time favorite towns, ranking right below Telluride as a favorite destination. Even though we brought camping gear, we both decided a hotel would be nice. Red River is a one street town and you get to sit on main street, eat pizza and watch the people go by as they stroll and drive up and down main street. We had lots of people stop and chat, telling us about the bikes they used to own and how we must be crazy riding crotch rockets across the country. Our response was to just smile like we we had a secret they didn't know about.

Day 2 will see us in Colorado most of the day - riding the winding roads we love.