| Author | Message | ||
     Sparropie |
This was my second Boarder Raid. A ride graciously hosted by DEELEY'S H-D, and their stand alone BUELL dealership! These folks are Canada's answer to Modesto Buell, Right On motorcycle people. In fact Trev Deeley, who is in his 80's, operates an amazing motorcycle museum. Several hundred perfectly restored scoots from every where and everywhen. I won't even try to tell you more, other than to go if your in B.C. So my ride started 6:30 Sat. morning, meeting up with some riders from Portlandia, Olympia, and Tacomatose. One more quick stop and we were off. Up north of Seattle we stopped to add a few more riders, and some rain gear. Canada was using everything in her arsenal, but we were not stopping 'till we had infiltrated the boarder. An easy crossing and we were 'ballin' toward our rendezvous at DEELEYS and the real food they put out for us. After renewing old friendships and starting a few new, we lifted off for Whistler. The route on the way up were a little crowded, but we found the space to begin the war of fun for all who were up for it! The roads are very clean, with some great, huge sweepers, interspersed with TIGHT twisties and laughter. And this was on the ride to the ride! We all arrived at our first nights destination, got our rooms and made plans to meet for dinner and war room planning for the next day. Later a ton of fun was had by all and we set our morning meeting time and slowly drifted off for sleep. Next morning's muster had the weather looking much better. We were a pretty cool looking bunch really, all queuing up in front of the Inn. 22 bikes, 2 riding 2-up, Buells, Triumphs, Ducatis, Kawa-Yamas, a Sporty, we had quite a train together when we pulled out. The landscape is more rugged up there, somehow, than down in Washington. Just not as tamed by the humans I guess. We headed north toward Lillooet, riding along Cayoosh Creek, through some local Native lands past Pemberton and eagles soaring and the water's roaring rising and with the words of BOB ringing in our ears that "a double yellow stripe means you HAVE to pass..." speed began to win out over the calming effects of the beautiful scenery. Soon we were flying and not seeing anything but the curves approaching and as we rounded a left with a small dip no one was seeing the R.C.M.P. fella but he only saw one of us make the pass right in front of him. Quote for the rest of the day: "Everyone else was doing the speed limit,(not! ed.) what's the matter with you?" Later shortened to "What's a matta you?" Score stands at them 1, us 21 away clean! So not too far before Lillooet there is a piece of Super-Dramatic-Road. No guard rail. No shoulder. About 250-300 feet of 80 degree slide down into a river. Absolutely nothing to grab or get caught on before the crunchy water below. Not 'Oh. it was breath taking', This •••• was so scary your breath caught in your throat if you looked down there. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. At Lillooet a lot of things happened. Our group began to down size. Chris and Loni who were up from OR. one on a Sportster, the other in a truck due to injury, headed south.(Thanks Chris for the space in the truck) RAY2K had had enough high speed fun. Michael wanted to open his Bumbershoot in Seattle. Erin on his Kawarocketsaki,(thanks again for your generous nature!) Stewart to a camping appointment, Christian chasing a pork chop, the point being that some riders dropped off here, and some continued on. And I'll continue the report tomorrow! GALEN | ||
| Sparropie |
(yes BOB) So everyone is loaded up and ready to head out to thier respective destination's, when Christian pointed out to me that my S3+ was falling apart! ACK! I had droped a muffeler bolt, so the one bracket holding the muff on had sheared off at the muffeler. So everyone left me there with my trusty CRUZ tool kit. Only a few hundred miles from everywhere. Hmmm...Anyway I had the right stuff to put Bettie back together, and some directions to chase after, and I was off again. From Lillooet to Lytton to Spences Bridge to Merritt. I caught the group at their second stop and we continued on to our last night in Canada at Osoyoos, near the boarder. Soft bed, good food, good friends, many laughs about the day, and off to sleep. Day broke in Osoyoos to an excellent breakfast. After checking fluids and making sure nothing was gona rattle off today, we hit the road for the good 'ol USA and home. Since it was Labour Day(canadian sp. ed.)we decided to keep our speed down and basicly take it easy after we got into the states. At least that was the plan. So we lit out south, down through the Okanogan valley. Somehow it seems we forgot our plans, and there were a few interesting passes made. I remember seeing BOB sending one cage-load of Mom&Dad&Buddie&Sis's wobbeling toward the ditch, all crying and pulling out their hair. (We won't get into my pass on Bluit that had the same results!) Somewhere befor Chelan we saw this silver car with these funny colored lights behind us. Sgt.York of the State Patrol informed us that while HE hadn't seen anything, he HAD gotten reports of a bunch of manical sportbike riders making crazy passes and exceeding the speed limit! Say it ain't so! After some strenuous finger wagging, he sent us on our way. he he he... So on down the Wenatchee river, through Wenatchee, near Levenworth we turned off for Bluit Pass. And the speed started creeping up again, and the wind tearing at my clothes, and the cop in my lane travelling the other way all conspired to send me like a black rocket flying over Bluit to the last fork in our road, where our Oregon contingent split off south. So BOB, Debbie, Ricky, CAP, Matt S1-Blackie, and your humblel narrator SPARROPIE split the sheets and headed for home. Untill we hit I-90 and it's 10MPH speed limit. Due to TRAFFIC! And I •••• you not when I say it SUCKED! In fact it sucked to such an extent that Bettie couldn't take anymore and DIED! It's true, something happened to her heart, and she hasn't started since. She's torn apart(gently) in my garage right now. But the non-suckie part was when this fella in a GIANT truck with a trailer full of motorbikes stopped and asked if we needed any help. He's my new best friend, and the proof of the old line:' You meet the nicest people on a motorcycle!' He is Brent Hallstrom from I-90 Motorsports in Issaquah, WA, and he gave me and Bettie a ride to the intersection of I-90 and hiway 18. I waited there a couple of hours and my good buddies BOB and Matt returned in BOB'S truck and got me home! So the ride didn't end exactly how I'd hoped, but I had a ••••••• great time anyway! Thanks all, Galen. -------- |
