August 3rd-6th, 2007

Friday, August 3rd
The objective today is to beat the heat of the Mojave Desert. I had planned on starting early, but I had no idea that I would be leaving at 3:18 am. I couldn't help it. I was awake at 2:30 and couldn't go back to sleep. I usually sleep pretty light before a big ride, but this was ridiculous. I decided to just get up and go.

I went through Baker at 6 am. The big thermometer read 87 degrees. Since the sun wasn't up yet, this must be the overnight low! Yikes! I'm through Las Vegas by 8. I'm thinking that Nancy is just getting going by now. This remotely reminds me of that Glenn Campbell song. Somewhere along the way, I lose the mouthpiece to my Camelbak. I stop in St. George at a motorcycle shop and pick one up.

This is the beginning weekend of Sturgis, so I see (and pass) many Harleys as well as trailers carrying Harleys. Along the way, two actually pass me. As they do, I check my speedometer which reads 90 which is about 82-83 actual. Relax, the legal speed limit is 75. I think to myself "Dang. They must stop for gas every 100 miles or so."

With the monsoonal storms all around me, it's hot and humid. My weather device tells me it's about 99F and 30% across central Utah and Colorado today. For me, 30% humidity is pretty high and I find it difficult to get relief. At least I missed the 120F in the Mojave Desert. I still manage an efficient route and I am able to set a personal best of riding 561 miles before noon. Not a bad half-day.

I reach the outskirts of Denver a little after 7 pm California time marking the first time I've not only done 1,000 miles in 16 hours but also finished in daylight. It's time to switch face shields and find the motel. I call Nancy to let her know I'm done for the day. I take a shower, but it won't turn off when I'm done. The manager comes and uses a secret two handed technique to get the water to turn off. She offers to let me change rooms. I ask if I can do this tomorrow and she agrees.

As I'm falling asleep, I think about my sister-in-law Janice and her husband Steve who are riding to Sturgis from Detroit and wonder how much they rode today.

Total for the day: 1,071 miles

Saturday, August 4th

Today is the big ride. The event is called the 100,000 foot Colorado Pass Motorcycle Ride and the objective is to ride various passes in the Colorado Rockies totaling more than 100,000 feet. Based on the itinerary, today's agenda calls for 103,188 feet.

I depart late because I have the opportunity to meet Ardis Kellerman, renowned motorcycle enthusiast. Last year, she rode over 100,000 miles. I also have a telephone conversation with my sister Carol as well as a brief one with Nancy. By the time I'm ready to go, the parking lot is nearly empty.

I soon catch up and begin passing groups of bikes along the way. No, I'm not in a hurry, but my preferred pace appears to be a little quicker than most in the event. I catch one group which includes a BMW KLT from Texas who seems to be riding at a pretty good pace himself. We ride tandem until we reach the lunch stop. Mike and Veronica are from Austin which means they rode about the same distance for this event as I did.

After lunch, we make a detour to Gunnison for gas. Shortly afterwards, just outside Saguache, my alternator light comes on. Drat. My alternator belt is gone. At that moment, I realize I should have changed it at my last service. At that time, I did inspect it and discovered a few ribs missing, but I was pretty certain I could make it to my next service which would be the normal time I would replace it. Note to self: next time I see "mouse droppings" inside my alternator cover, change the belt!

I pull off at a convenience store and advise Mike and Veronica to complete their route without me. I proceed to replace the belt as many bystanders come by .The whole operation took an hour and a half, much less than I thought it would. The folks who were standing around and watched seemed to be impressed. One was an employee of Foothill BMW who said something to the effect that I changed the belt in the parking lot quicker than their shop flat rates the job with all the shop tools at their disposal. Hmmmm....

After I got the belt on, I heard someone say "At least it stopped raining". I cringed. Yep, as soon as I got on the road, I had to stop to put on my rain gear. That was the only stop I made in the 175 miles of mostly driving rain and twisty roads. That took about 3-1/2 hours. The things I'll do for a free hot dog! At least I wasn't time barred. The amazing thing was that there were people who arrived after I did!!

I make my way back to the motel (yes, it's still raining) and I'm one tired motorcycle rider. Once I get in the room, I realize I still need to change rooms to get a working shower. The manager says my new room is on the third floor. That's right, no elevator. By the time I get all my gear moved and the bike parked under the porte cochere, it doesn't take me long to wind down. I spend some time plotting a route for the next day. I'm determined to make up for yesterday and avoid the interstate as much as possible.

Click on pictures for larger version

Getting ready for the ride

Lunch stop

Taking a break

A little roadside wrenching: replacing the alternator belt

Saturday's Route

First off, I wanted to retrace my route along the CO Hwy 285 to find out what it is like when it's not raining so hard and visibility is greater than two miles. That part was worth it. Hwy 285 is a nice, gently rolling country road through a bunch of small towns. Of course, the speed limit is way too low, but I soon realized that this is true all over the state. I turned off at Hwy 50 towards Gunnison again where I stop for breakfast. There is a cafe in town (possibly the only one) where it is worth the wait for breakfast on Sunday morning. Riding three hours and getting two hundred miles under my belt before breakfast really worked up an appetite.

After breakfast, I continued east on Hwy 70 until I reached Montrose where I turned south on Hwy 550.  Hwy 550 between Ridgeway and Durango is spectacular, particularly around Ouray. Ouray reminded me of some of the small villages in Austria or even Bisbee, AZ. It's a quaint little town nestled in a valley surrounded by gorgeous breathtaking mountains. I manage to "bag" a few more passes along the way. This is another Colorado road with particularly low speed limits. After getting gas in Durango, I continue south on 550 into New Mexico, my sixth state of the weekend.

If I thought the speed limits were bad in Colorado, then I found them to be horrendous in New Mexico. By this time, I'm getting a little anxious to get back to California. I turn west on Hwy 64 towards Shiprock. I originally considered taking 160 through the Indian reservation, but the weather cells are all around me. One particularly dark cloud reaching all the way to the ground was directly in front of me. I decide to turn south on Hwy 491 to see if my luck would take me around the cell.

I am dry as I pull into Gallup, but I'm starting to get sprinkled on. Flagstaff is about 180 miles away, so I decide to get another tank of gas and to don my rain gear. I turn west again on I-40 straight into another weather cell. The weather holds pretty good until I get fairly close to Flagstaff. By the time I hit the city limits, it is drark and raining hard. I eventually find the motel (for some reason, my GPS doesn't work very well when it's overcast). My room is nicer here than it was in Lakewood (Rodeway Inn vs. Extended Stay America) and I sleep pretty good. I guess riding over 700 miles and the stress of riding in the rain at night didn't hurt either. I set the alarm for 4 am so that I can try to beat the heat going across the desert.

Ouray

Highway 550

Highway 550

Monday, August 6
The alarm goes off at 4 am. The conditions outside are the same as when I went to bed; dark and still raining. Crap! I'm out the door at 4:38 and leave the gas station across the street at 4:44. At first, it's hard to distinguish the white reflectors in the road from the shiny, wet pavement especially with a face shield that kept fogging up. I tried to peek under it, but was always pummeled with raindrops in my face. Evenually, my vision adjusted and I was able to get the bike up to the speed limit. Once I'm outside of Flagstaff, it's extremely dark. There is absolutely nothing to light up the sky way out here. My attention and energy level is at maximum as I scan the side of the road for deer and elk.

I'm about 10 minutes out of Flagstaff when I notice a car on the side of the road and the driver getting out. By the time I pass the car and my vision returns to the road in front of me, I barely have time to see an object in the middle of the road. It appears to be a brown, cylindrical object about eight inches in diameter and between 18 and 24 inches long. I'm thinking tree stump, but later as I recalled the story to my sister Carol, she thought it was probably a muffler. This makes more sense than a log standing on end in the middle of the road. Regardless, as I strike it, it rattles my teeth and causes my handlebars to make a couple of oscillations before returning to the neutral position. My first reaction, well, you probably don't want to know the very first reaction, but the second reaction I had was to check my air pressure. Air pressure is fine. I next glance at my oil light to see if I've put a hole in the crankcase. No oil light. My next thought is what an incredibly stable bike I've got.

The rain stops within minutes as the sun rises behind me. A little over two hours later I'm pulling into Kingman for gas. I walk around the bike to check for damage. I find that my lower left body panel is trashed and is being held on by two screws which attach the bottom panel to the right body panel. I remove those two screws and use my bullnose pliers to remove the section that is unsupported. This is so that it will no longer be a hazard.

The remainder of the ride home is uneventful with one more stop in Barstow. I arrive home at 1 pm.

With all the challenges I had over the weekend including roadside repairs, debris in the roadway and much more rain that I would have preferred, at least I've figured out how to cross the desert in the summertime; something that's kept me from attending popular rallies in the past. Next time, I'll be traveling with a new alternator belt.

Inspecting the damage from the debris strike

After making the bike safe, packing up the pieces