Last summer I was fortunate to have time to ride some incredible places. A bit down into Mexico, up into Canada, down the gorgeous Pacific coast and back home.
(Here are some links to highlights of that trip)
One of these days I’ll make it East of the Rockies, but the Southwest has a lot to offer so I was happy to return for further exploration. Only having about a month, I packed up my SV650 and blazed up the interstate at the crack of dawn.
His name is Binky. Continue reading
Sorry for the extreme delay in updating! Finals week kind of knocked me for a loop and then I went to Central America for a month. 
I’m back now though with much more free time!
Soooooo at last DSDD Part 2!
Riders gathering in the morning for a ride lead by Mountain Dog to Jackson Cabin.
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I had wanted to ride dirt down to Dragoon on Thursday, but school obligations kept me late, so I trailered down with Alan instead. I had a quick beer before the bar closed up and called it a night.
Went for a little walk in the morning. I love the crazy rocks out there.
The neighbors. Continue reading
Last weekend a bunch of riders came down from Phoenix to ride with the Tucson crew. On Saturday they did Charouleau Gap, a ride I hope to do at some point this year, but I’m still pretty intimidated by.
I mean look at it:
I had been wanting to re-ride Sibley Mansion ever since my first attempt ended with a bang. Riding old trails you once found very challenging, can really put in perspective how far you’ve come. My “Death in the Desert” re-ride was a great example, but while I hoped it would be laughably easy this time around, Sibley was still putting butterflies in my stomach.
James and I met Allyn at a gas station in Tucson, with plans to meet a new to the area rider, Jay, up in Mammoth.
We got on the bikes to head North, Allyn kicked it into first and his bike made a terrible grinding sound and the chain flopped right off! He was trying to figure out why he wasn’t going anywhere, so I tapped his shoulder and pointed at the bike of his bike.
Somehow the sprocket had sheared all but one bolt and mostly removed itself from the bike. Luckily the chain was unbroken, so Allyn borrowed the Zeb to get new bolts and get us on our merry way. Continue reading
I don’t know what to say about the PCH that hasn’t already been said. The road winds along the cliff edge so perfectly. The views are so entrancing it’s hard to make yourself stop and take pictures, most of the time you just ride along with your mouth dropped open, mystified by the sheer beauty of it all.
The Zeb with the ocean and a field of wildflowers
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I got up the next morning and used the gps on my new phone to find Alice’s Restaurant. I was suspicious when it said it was only 15 minutes away, but somehow decided to blindly follow technology. 15 minutes later I arrived at Alice’s -Cafe- in the middle of San Francisco. I googled Alice’s Restaurant on my phone to get the real address…which was another 45 minutes away. I called Dwayne to let him know what happened and hit the highway South to the correct destination.
I while later I felt moisture on my leg and smelled fuel. I pulled over.
DAMMIT. I thought I just paid to get this fixed?! Continue reading
The coast proved to be much cooler…too cool really and quite wet, but the fog was gorgeous.
I headed inland through Portland, which seemed to me an overwhelming network of highways, interstates and horrendous traffic. The interstate was backed up for miles. I patiently sat in traffic and duck walked the bike along inch by inch while contemplating the risks and benefits of lane splitting in a state where it was illegal. A group of guys in a truck with a dirt bike in the back and Fox logo decals on the windows gave me a thumbs up as they inched by.
Then my bike began to overheat.
I pulled off the road and let it sit for a few minutes, but it was scorching hot and the traffic still wasn’t moving. As I was debating my next move, an older couple on a Goldwing rolled up next to me. I explained my dilemma and they convinced me to follow them up the side around traffic. “Don’t worry.” the man said “If we get pulled over, I’ll talk our way out of it!” and off we went, passing the cars inching along the tarmac. The previously friendly truck people all gave me the finger as we chugged past. “But it was overheating!” I pleaded apologetically. Oh well.
Eventually we were freed from the jam and I made a beeline for Eugene, Oregon where an old friend had moved for grad school. He kindly let me crash his couch for a couple nights and took me out around the town.
They have an amazing bakery there called Voodoo Donut, where they make all kinds of crazy confections.
I rolled into the lovely town of Bellingham in Washington and stayed with Ian, another Adventure Motorcyclist who had done some impressive trips of his own. We chatted about bikes and he recommended I ride the lakeside road out in the morning.
The lake was indeed gorgeous and the road twisted around in tight curves marked 25 miles an hour. I was going about 35, jamming to my iPod and grinning with every turn.
Then I hit one marked 15mph…but there wasn’t time to really slow down. I leaned the bike over as hard as I could, I swear I felt completely horizontal and was just waiting to hear scraping, but the bike kept leaning. I should have just kept going for it, I may have made it, but foolishly I began to wonder what would happen if I slid out. I glanced to the side of the road at the muddy rut that awaited me and next thing I knew the bike bolted up and started heading right at it. Since I wasn’t leaned over, I thought I could hit it dead on and ride it back out onto the road again, but the grass was slippery and the bike spun sideways, hitting the embankment and bucking into the air.
I was suddenly splayed out face down in the mud, with my bike upside-down, backwards, on top of my head. I reached up and blindly pushed the bike off of me, grabbing onto some searing hot piece of engine which promptly melted through my glove and the first few layers of skin.
I stood up and checked my body all over. Aside from neck soreness, hand burn and a killer headache, I was alright.
“Holy shit!” A young guy driving by had seen my crash and thought I was toast. He kindly helped me drag my bike out of the muddy ditch, asking me about a hundred times if I was really okay before he continued on down the road.
The bike is facing the opposite way of my original direction, you can see the pile of dirt where we hauled the bike out of the muddy ditch. I had some nice grassy handlebar fringe for a while too… Continue reading
