| Author | Message | ||
     Doerman |
I was cleaning up my disc drives and came across this little tale I wrote up on a trip a friend and I did on Buells back in 97. This was before I had a digital camera so no pics, just words... ---------------------------------------------- Let me first introduce ourselves. I am Dutch, and this here is my buddy, T-Bone. I figured it would be a good thing to give an account of our recent excellent adventure. We had this itch early August to do some serious riding around this beautiful country of ours so we planned on heading west. Both T-Bone and me are Buell riders. T did sort of drool over one of them there new S3, so a week before we was to leave, he went ahead and bought himself one. A brand spanking new beautiful red one. Now, this presented a problem in that it needed to be broken in and have the first service before we headed out on the long one. To remedy this, we spent a Sunday hauling our you know whats around the back roads of northern Kentucky and southern Indiana until we had acquired the required miles for the first service. It was a tough job, but somebody had to do it. That done, we’re set. Well, not quite. T did not have much in terms of luggage carrying capability, so he scoured the local dealers. This did not look too bright since UPS was out on strike. Seems like every business in this country must be relying on UPS. Finally, actually the day before we left, he found a soft luggage set and a tankbag at a local BMW dealer. We’re good to go! Next day we set out about 11 in the morning after my wife fixed us a manly breakfast, Huevos Rancheros. Incidentally, this breakfast lasted us until Illinois. We headed west on US50 through Indiana and Illinois. When we stopped for a late lunch in Lawrenceville, Ind, we met our first rain on the trip. Good enough, on with the raingear. We only went 6 miles before we were out of it. Heading into St.Louis, we did skirt a lot of showers. Seemed like the showers were everywhere except where we were riding. This boded well for a good trip. Of course, we got a little lost in St.Louis, but quickly realized the errors of our ways and found US50 again. At this point it is actually called I70. I did learn something about T. Earlier in the day I mentioned that we might be able to reach Jefferson City Mo. He took this as gospel and headed straight for it. We only stopped at dusk to put the raingear on again since now we were in some serious rain. Fist night stop. It was dark and wet, but we found ourselves a Motel 8 or something, mighty suitable for a night’s rest. We figured we had done real well with 550 miles behind us already. I t is kind of curious how things change from Cincinnati to Missouri. Here folks come and go with wide brimmed Cowboy hats and those enormous belt buckles. To each his own, I say. But I have always been wondering if these buckles of “city” proportions don’t get in the way when sitting. You see, T gets pretty charged up when riding in pretty nature like this. Upon seeing a nicely shaped woman, dressed in a 60 type outfit, he got himself all excited. I got him calmed down by pointing out that this was a mountain woman escorted by two mountain men. Messing with these folks might abruptly end our trip right here. Next day, heading down on US54 through the Ozarks. Pretty country all around. Though could do without the local 35mph tourist traffic. A lot of boats being towed and the likes. We hit the Kansas state line and my heart kind of sunk a little. This was a BIG state ahead of us. We’d be in it all day and more. A slight modification to the route was in order. The modified route took us into the Panhandle of Oklahoma. On the way there though we were lucky to see the little town of Sedan, KS. This, I will have you all know, is the home of the Yellow Brick Road, or so it said on a sign on route 166. The fact did not seem to have revitalized this little burgh into a major tourist metropolis any. There was not even a sign for an exit to this town. Once on Oklahoma, I was starting to think of the license plates and what the different state slogans are. I was thinking the Oklahoma people must be really modest since theirs is “Oklahoma is OK”. I think the Missurians are a little off. I did not have to show anybody anything while I was there. I was at least expecting to show my drivers license to a cop or something. Shortly into OK, we saw another memorable monument to American history. It was advertised for miles ahead, so we could not miss it. The Chisholm Trail monument. Here’s a large state investment. They had taken plywood and cut it into silhouettes of people, horses, and wagons and mounted it on top of a hill. The plywood was painted uniform black. Well, it was enough to slow us down from 80 to 60 to take a gander. This whole thing was serious though, because it was marked with a US government issue “Historical Marker”. It reminded me of these awful black lawn ornaments silhouettes, which have become so popular these days, showing a man pissing on a tree. For those of you who would like to seek out this fine piece of art, travel down route 81 from KS to OK. The population was getting a little sparse by now and so was the gas in the tank. We made it into Medford KS with miles on the tank to spare. The only problem was that this is a small town, so two of the tree gas stations were closed – looked like it was a permanent thing. The open one was out of our way. It was worth the search though, it had this interesting grandma working it, and she was wanting to talk for a while. We learned all about her husband and his 73 Moto Guzzi that he had bought at a police auction in Wichita a few years back. He used to be a trucker, but had to give it up due to heart trouble. He had a quad bypass and was doing fine now. She was contemplating giving him a call so he could see the Buells. Got me thinking though, I seem to recollect that a lot of truckers seem to get into heart trouble. I wonder what it is about that profession that taxes the circulatory system. Anyway, now we had a challenge. It was about 5pm and we would need to go 230 miles before the next place with Motels. Sure, why not. Halfway to Guymont OK, we encountered this awesome thunderstorm. We could spot it 60 miles away. We were lucky too, since at one point the position of the storm and the setting sun lined up directly with out position on the road. The sun lit up the top of the thunderhead like a Christmas tree and there was a veritable light show from this display. Getting closer to the storm we could see the rain and wind operate on the prairie. This is a sight to behold. It looks sort of like that giant vacuum cleaner in the movie Spaceballs, but much prettier. This was a warm day. Getting closer to the storm we could feel the cool air coming down to the ground and spreading out in all directions from where the downpour was. This air must have been at least 40F cooler all of a sudden. This did present a problem though. This seem to have seriously stirred up the bugs and consequently all the birds that live off the bugs. In no time at all, my visor was covered, making it really hard to see. The birds were really frisky too and were doing fly-bys inches away from my head. No bird strike though. Arriving in Guymont after 700 miles that day. A really good trip. Oh, I forgot. I was really surprised so find wetlands in OK. And just outside Guymont, we passed by a feedlot. This place has the capacity to host 50000 cows for the last few weeks of their life. It is a huge complex and don’t really smell too good either. On one of the feed silos, it simply said – Eat Beef. Well, you can not get more succinct than that in advertising your product. Seeing this sight was nearly enough to turn me into a vegetarian. I also learned something else. Don’t follow a cattle truck too close. Get around it in a hurry or hang back. We were now only 100 miles from New Mexico. Cool. We figured this would be a different ride. You think of New Mexico, and images of mountains and deserts come to mind. This is very obvious, but it does not change on the border. There are large portions of eastern Colorado and New Mexico, which are identical to Kansas and Oklahoma. Next morning. Heading to Clayton New Mexico. Since this was a Sunday, T had a brilliant idea. Let’s stop for lunch early to beat the church crowd. I was looking at him kind of curiously.. church crowd? Don’t you know you are out west now and there are no crowds – church or otherwise. I guess T has not been west of the Mississippi much. Heading west still to Springer NM. I tell you. This country is flat between the Ozarks and well into New Mexico. That does not mean a boring ride though. There’s plenty to discover on the way. Next destination was lunch in Santa Fe. We were wanting to make some quick headway and took I25 for a while. I saw a real business man on vacation with his family. His wife in the front, with the obligatory 2 kids fighting in the back seat in his Lexus. I could tell he was a serious business man by the fact that he was continuously on the cell phone while his wife was making notes on the laptop. Oh well, to each their own. Trouble. The engine is missing. I get myself negotiated over into the slow lane and onto the shoulder. We were lucky though because this was the beginning of a construction area. We actually had the shoulder and the slow lane to ourselves. Getting the little tool pouch out and start ciphering out what might be wrong. We found the culprit pretty quickly. There is a switch in the side stand that cuts power if you attempt to ride off with the side stand down. A safety feature, which I at this point did not have any use for. I noticed by pushing it in further it would make good contact. Let’s see what we can find along the road side that would keep it in place. To my amazement, this random spot on a US interstate did not lack for raw materials. Plenty of glass bottles, tin cans, paper, even feminine protection devices were discarded along the roadside. The feminine protection thing puzzled me. Do women change those while driving? Then I found some tinfoil. I molded this in place to hold the switch in. We were again good to go. Arriving in Santa Fe. Heading for Old Town. What a beautiful little city! It seemed no structure was over 2 stories tall and it must be a local restriction that all buildings must be constructed adobe style. We went to a restaurant and enjoyed probably the best Mexican meal I have ever had. This was an old building. We were on the veranda enjoying the food, the Iced tea, and the unhurried traffic on the street. The people seemed so friendly and I for one like it when there are a mixture of Spanish and English in active use. Heading north. We went through Chimayo and took NM 96 with the ultimate destination for the day being Farmington NM. NM 96 takes us trough some high altitude dessert and a variety of valleys and mountains. This is really beautiful country. Going through this part of the state is a spiritual experience. No wonder they call it land of enchantment. Vegetation is predominantly sagebrush and pinion with some pine. The bottom of the valleys are green and fertile with a drastic change of vegetation along the creek beds with all the deciduous trees. We were again heading for the obligatory rain for the day. We had just pulled out of a valley and I figured it would be good to put raingear on. T was so taken by the beauty that he was riding on. Soon enough though he discovered was no longer behind him so he turned around and met up with me. As we were getting ready to suit up, we were both taken in by the once in a lifetime display in the valley behind us. There were clouds hanging low, dark at the bottom and lit to silver at the top by the sunshine. These extended white veils of rain all the way to the ground. The veils were alive with motion and contrasted brilliantly against the background of the mountains and the valley. And then, a double rainbow. Not just a faint display, but a crisp showing of all 7 colors in both. The lower of the two rainbow had two extra bands of Indigo. To tickle the olfactory, the rain soaked pinion and sagebrush gave off a scent better than any fragrance you can buy for big bucks on Champs Elysee in Paris. The auditory input was also satisfied with the rolling thunder in the background. We did not know how long we stood there and enjoyed. It was more than enjoyment, we lost track of time and place. If it had not started raining on us, we might just have gone into rapture right then and there. All I can say is WOW! Anyway, on to Farmington. We got to Farmington and had ourselves another great Mexican meal. You know you are in the right place when the menu is in Spanish and the patrons and the help are Mexican. Since we had such a spiritual experience, I saw my chance to further my knowledge in this area. There was a Navajoe roaming the parking lot at the Motel. I was thinking this is my chance to befriend a real Navajoe Shaman. Well, we talked for a while, and I was getting really excited since I only understood half of what he said. He was mumbling a lot. Well, I was let down though, when the bottom line was him asking for money for booze. Oh well, better luck next encounter, I though. The next day we headed toward Moab UT to check out the Arches Natl. park. We had to stop by 4 corners. Hey! That gives you 4 states on the trip right there! We passed by Shiprock. You can’t get too close to it. The road passes 20 miles away from the rock. It is quite a sight though, piercing the lonely landscape as it does. We did a route which went from NM into AZ for a while and to Four Corners. The stop was not worth much more than the value of stretching our legs. This is a Navajoe trading post. The stuff there was very inexpensive. And nice work too. So if you’re into the shopping thing, it is probably worth the stop. On to Colorado and then into Utah. We took US 191 north. On these lone routes in the western US, when they say construction, they mean CONSTRUCTION in a big way. The entire road, not just one lane, was torn up for 12 miles . We were escorted through with a “Follow Me” vehicle. This took us by scrapers, dump trucks, compactors, and all sorts of road machinery that I don’t know a name for. By the time we were through, I thought my fillings were loose. Well, both my fillings and the bike were no worse for wear at the end of all this. We chatted with a nice family from Grand Junction for a while waiting for our turn to go through. They even gave us fresh home baked cookies and told us that God would bless us too! This route is really spectacular!. We were now in the red sand country. This must be the landscape WB used as inspiration to the Wiley Coyote cartoons. And another thing I noticed. They name their rocks. There is Ship rock, Finger rock, Church rock, and I can not remember them all. But all I can figure is that these rocks must be near and dear to them since they give them names. As we were ready to take off after a fill up in Monticello UT, this old man came up to us and proclaimed: “Yous are gonna get yousefs wet!” I took my helmet off again to talk with the guy. He looked to be around 80. He was telling us about being out the day before and seeing this storm coming. He got into the pickup and drove across the valley thinking he would not get rained on. Found himself a good rock to sit and watch the whole thing. Then he said: “Don’t you know, the weather turn right toward me and did I get my ass wet! That was a real gullywasher, that was”. Only the way he said it washer had an extra r in it. Apparently rain of this magnitude is not common around these parts, and he had really enjoyed the experience. He did a different departure greeting: “You boys have fun!”. Without fail, when you are on a motorcycle, non motorcycle people sign off the conversation with you with something like: “Be careful” or Ride Safely”. Both of which are meant well and are very endearing. The difference is that this old man understood what we were doing – having fun. The objective is to go out there to enjoy, have fun, and do all this in a responsible way. This man had lived long enough to understand. The arches. What a place. The road into the park is 12 miles and there are plenty of stopping places to take it all in. It was one of these indescribable landscapes. Tons of foreign tourists. People from Asia and Europe. They apparently had landed in California and rented cars there to tool around the west. I talked to a few of them and they were on a 3 or 4 week trip. When we told them what we were doing in one week, they just gave us a blank stare. There was one German couple with a 4 year old. The kid was quietly looking to the ground while the parents wee taking in the vistas. All of a suddenly the kid gets really excited: “Papa, komm, gerade, Ich habe ein Katus gefunden!” The little boy expressed so much joy in finding the Cactus, something that does not grow in Germany, and he just had to show his dad, right now! Of course, this was just a Prickly Pear to us. We decided to stay the night in Moab. Watch out! They gouge you on the motel price. This is when I brought out the $.79 cigar that I had bought in Indiana to celebrate the westernmost point on the trip. This fine hand rolled and Indiana grown cigar tasted mighty fine after a burger and a beer, I tell you! There is a road called UT 128. It takes you from Moab to I70 and might be the most breathtaking 40 miles of road there is. The Colorado river runs into Moab and this road follows the canyon. There is only room for two things in this canyon, a road tucked in right next to the winding river. The speed limit is 45. We were going slower than that so that we could take in the continuos beauty we were passing by. I do not have the words to describe it. On to I 70 and time for a fill up in Fruita Colorado. Here we met two elderly gents. They were on motorcycles – a Goldwing and a Harley Dresser. They were in their 4th week of touring the western US. They both hailed from Amarillo TX. They were retired and traveling together visiting their kids and grandkids living out west. They had been in Nevada and along the California coast line and stayed for a few days with their relatives. One was 62 and the other was 69. Both were bikers with gray hair and beards. One had a long ponytail. This was a short conversation, but it is really nice to see grandpa out and enjoying our fine country in the best of style. On to the Rockies. Up I 70 to Wolcott CO. By the way, this is a really cool stretch of interstate. It winds itself along the Colorado river, in places sharing the canyon with a railroad, a bike path, and the river, of course. Originally, the canyon was only large enough to house the river. Somehow, with Civil Engineering ingenuity they were able to fit in the interstate and the railroad without screwing up the esthetics of the canyon. It makes for a really interesting ride. From Wolcott, the objective is Steamboat Springs. We took Co 131. This was a really nice scenery. Pine and aspen trees with the mighty Rockies with snow on the peaks as the backdrop. Road itself is of good quality and winds itself through the different elevations. Time for a stop. Nature calls – no, not the Ace Ventura thing. Besides, it was really evident that we were heading into rain again. We stopped at a little pull – off and stepped down to a little brook. Surprise. More pollution. Where is this coming from. We have not seen more than 5 cars in the last 70 miles, yet there are bottles, cans, paper plastic, and even a well decomposed mattress lying along the creek bank. Go figure. By now I am wondering. Are all roadsides in this entire country littered – every square feet of it. What a shame! We get into Steamboat and time for gas and food. We stop on Main street and get ready to pop in to Joe’s Bar for a burger. As we were taking off the raingear, a couple from Britain pops up from the sidewalk – or so it seems. Meet Malcolm and Irene, on vacation – eh, I mean Holiday in the US. What a cheerful couple. They were probably in their fifties. Malcolm had a bright red jacket with Ferrari racing logo on it, khaki shorts, and blinding white legs. Asking all kinds of questions about the Buell bikes and commenting on all the rain they had on their US Holiday. He likened the Buells to a poor man’s Vincent Black Shadow. Well, I could not exactly disagree with him and took it as a compliment. Malcolm was full of stories. They had met an Air Force general who had invited them to diner that night. Irene was a little suspicious though. This “General” was personally taking part in the search for the A10 that disappeared in the Rockies this summer? She figured if he were a real general, he would have people that he could dispatch to take care of this sort of thing. On to Wyoming. A very cool ride, in the low 50s through Laramie and we ended up in Wheatland WY for the night. We were timing things right! We arrived in Wheatland minutes after a hailstorm had gone through. There was plenty of the white stuff along the roadside. And if you in the future should find yourself taking this trip. Don’t go the interstate. Take 287 north and WY 34 to Wheatland. WY34 is a really nice ride through otherwise very flat country. And the prime rib was particularly good at the Timber House restaurant to top off the day right. I apparently had forgotten all about the “Eat Beaf” experience in Oklahoma by now. We headed to the Black Hills and Rapid City the next day. Stopping to see Crazy Horse and Mount Rushmore monuments. It had been a while since I last saw Crazy Horse. They have made a lot of progress. The face is finished. The size of this thing is enormous. The Mt. Rushmore faces all fit within just the face of Crazy Horse. If you are not familiar with this monument, it is made in honor to Native Americans of all Nations (not just the Lakota). By the way, what we know as Sioux are really Lakota Nation. The French gave them the name Sioux and the Lakotas are not particularly fond of it. The Black Hills are really a nice place to visit. There is a lot of ticky-tacky tourist stuff there. But there is plenty of sights to see as well. After an overnight in Rapid City, which by the way, it hailed again. But not until we had found room for ourselves and shelter for the bikes. Again, I was saying, the next morning it was time to head for home. Going south toward Nebraska on SD 79 which joins US387. Just before you get to Alliance Nebraska, you just HAVE TO slow down and take in the sight of Car Henge. This is a monument to automotive art. This rancher collected a bunch of car bodies and replicated the Stone Henge in England. The cars are stripped to the sheet metal and treated with a galvanized aluminum paint. They are arrayed around in a circle; some buried nose down and other span two vertical cars. In Alliance, we were turning east onto NE2 heading to Grand Island NE. If it were not for the title of Americas Loneliest Road being held by US50 through Nevada, this would be it!. Sixty or more miles between towns and noting but the railroad between. Nice scenery though. In one of these towns we encountered a real Western Woman. She pulled up to a gas station in a Ford Bronco, early 80s vintage, pulling a horse trailer. She wore Wrangler jeans with western booths. By the way, Lewis are for city folks, real cowboys and gals wear Wranglers. The jeans had cow manure on them and to top it all off – she was wearing honest to God spurs on the boots. This was no imitation – this was the genuine article. This lady was working the ranch for a living. Let’s see, we are now through Nebraska – all 500 miles of it! After a short stint through Iowa, we ended up for the night in St.Joseph MO. Wow. 725 miles on the day. This was shortly to be put to shame when we talked with some fellow riders who had arrived from Montana and put on 825 miles that day. It would not have been so humiliating had it not been for the fact that one of them was 76 years old. Oh well, we swallow our pride and washed it down with a big Brewtus at the Applebies next door. One more day to go. Lunch in Hannibal, MO. This is a really quaint town. There is a restaurant there called the Plantation House. Excellent vittles for the road weary. On to Cincinnati. I arrive at home at 10pm. This was definitely a really good ride!, with 8 days on the road and 4350 miles behind us. This country and the people in it are so cool! | ||
| Jb2 |
Doerman, Great story! Pictures weren't needed. I'm a three time veteran of nearly the same ride leaving from Indiana and all were memorable trips in their own right. I did two of the trips on an S2 and the last trip on a VFR800. All the things you describe hold true ten years later. Next year's vacation has all been committed to a repeat of this very ride. Something about wide open spaces and sparse populations that really makes my soul fly. I believe Ferris dubbed 128 the Bats and Bugs Highway. We traversed this piece of asphalt beginning near dusk and spent every mile dodging bats that were diving for bugs. We even crossed the original Dewey Bridge(slipped around the barricades) just before it was too dark to take photos. Anyway thanks for the trip revisited. JB2 | ||
| Jerry_haughton |
"Bugs and Bats! Bats and Bugs!"  | ||
| Cletusberontwood |
Thanks for the amazing story brother. You really have captured the essence of riding; the experience. | ||
| Doerman |
Thanks! You can probably tell I really enjoyed it. | ||
| P_squared |
“Just before you get to Alliance Nebraska, you just HAVE TO slow down and take in the sight of Car Henge.” Where I grew up and my family still lives. If you stop to see CarHenge, stop by Dobby's Frontier Town as well on the north side of Alliance. Dobby is my grandpa. No pictures required, your words were enough to provide the mental imagery.} | ||
| Buffalobolt |
Fantastic story! Pictures weren't needed! Thanks for sharing that with us! |
