Arkansas trip day 8 - West Plains to Bowling Green, via St. Louis

Today I deviated substantially from the plan.  After watching the weather, I went out to check the bike.  It had oil, tire pressure was OK.  Then I noticed a little groove on the rear tire.  I thought maybe after riding through some mud I got something caught in the tread.  Then I looked more carefully, and it looked like the belt.

Strangely I had been worried about the front tire before leaving, and decided I would probably replace it after I got back.  The rear tire was newer - the front had 13,000 miles, and the rear had 7000.  The rear tire was also hard to read the tread, because the center of it had no tread.

I decided it wasn't safe to ride any more than necessary on this tire.  Unfortunately, this bike has an unusual rear wheel, and most motorcycle dealers don't stock tires for it.  I called Charlie, my BMW mechanic, and he agreed I should replace the tire, and thought there was a place in St. Louis.  I looked it up, and it was Gateway Motorcycles.  So I decided I should replace it, and had to travel the 180 miles to St. Louis on it.  I talked with Don about how this affected the route, and wondered whether I should go via the fun twisty route through the Mark Twain NF, (shorter) or along the more boring US & interstate highways.  I decided on the bigger roads, figuring if the tire blew while I was on the highway I had a decent chance to keep control enough to pull over, but  if it blew while I was leaned over in a tight turn it could cause more damage.

So I finally got there - Don had warned me to be careful in St. Louis, as it's one of the more dangerous cities in the US - surpassing Detroit for most murders.

Here's the tire after I got to the dealer.

Frightning how quickly it got bad when two days before I was taking pictures to show off my chicken strips and there wasn't any overt sign of wear.

Spent a fair bit of time debating over what to get for a new tire.  The front is a Metzler 880 with a little bit of treat left.  The rear was a Metzler z6.  Because of the oddball rear tire, the options were:

880 on the rear.
Z6's on front and rear (the flat middle tread of the Z6 rear tire is counting on the front tire to split the water.
Michelin pilot road II's.  (Charlie recommended these before).

The 880's will last the longest, especially with the extra weight of touring and riding 2 up.  The Z6's and Pilot Roads will give the best traction, and the pilot road has a harder rubber down the middle, which is supposed to give a little longer life in that area of the tire.  I decided to go with the pilot road II's, and see what the life is.  In the future, realizing the life of a tire on this bike is more typically 6-8 k miles, I need to take that into account before I go on the road.  Changing tires on the road when you're not planning for it is a little stressful.

I got lulled into a false sense of tire security by my Virago 750 - I get 12,000 miles out of the Avon Venom X's I put on that bike.  But, the bike is a lot lighter than the BMW, and I seldom loaded it much.

Okay, here's some photos of Gateway BMW Motorcycles in St Louis

Chuck, the service manager, who did a quick reinforcement of my sagging antenna:

Chuck and the owner, Hans.  The owner's name is Hans, how appropriate for BMW!  Also, St. Louis has historically had lots of German Immigrants.

The support staff:

That's better:

So now I'm in Bowling Green MO, which is actually part way down the road for the day 9 ride.  I have the choice between an easy day today, or riding a little further and having a shorter day tomorrow.  Diane is going to give me a massage when I get home, so that's incentive for me to try and get home earlier on Sunday, so maybe that's the deciding factor.

Side benefit of going to St. Louis - they have those funky hoods on the gas nozzles, so the fuel vapor doesn't leak.  They've had them for years in California, but this is the first time I've ever had to fuel a bike with one.  Took a couple of tries for me to figure out that you can use your hand to compress the hood, and that will allow you to fill the bike's tank up to the top.  Then the little engineer brain gets going, and it would be easy to make something to allow one to use it on the bike more easily.  Then I figure, well, I'm sure someone else has already done this.

One of the benefits of a long trip alone like this is it gives me a chance to look over what I really want from life, what makes me happy, what stresses me out, figuring my obligations to family, friends, work, and maybe how to balance it all.  I definitely need alone time, but I think about a lot of stuff and like to communicate that. So the blogging deal is good, at least for me.  Hopefully some folks are enjoying this blog, too.

Day 9 - I'm in Clarksville MO, and I am at "Cool Beans" coffee shop, indulging my coffee and chocolate habits while taking advantage of WiFi to finish yesterday's blog.  So, if there are pictures in this post, then it worked.

TTFN

Virago Becky

Arkansas trip day 7 - North to Missouri

Today I was a little worried about weather, and I made it a point to pack last night, so, filled w/ Super 8 waffles, I was on the road before 8 AM.  It didn't take long for me to get out of town and back into the Ozark winding roads.  Yesterday, when I started out, there were more pine trees.  Today, there were more oaks, and they were in the middle of brown grass fields.  With the rounded hills, it reminded me a lot of California.

This time I tried to take a few more pictures to give a feel of the countryside.

I took one of the side routes Don had listed as an alternate on the map:  AR 16.  It looked like it was going to follow the ridge line of the hills, and that's one of my favorite things to do.

The chipped stone they put on the roads looks nice, and gives a pretty good riding surface.  And, if I missed that curve, I'd just slide into those nice cushy rolls of hay.

Now, if you look carefully at the picture above (click on it to open larger in another window) you will see that the sign with the arrow on it has buckling occurring between the reflective sheeting and the aluminum.  This must not be 3M reflective sheeting, because the engineer who designed the process to put the adhesive on the sheeting did a way better job than that.  How do I know, you ask? ...........

Doesn't that look like a car with two front ends?   Maybe a Corvair? A classic, but a fixer-upper.

There are rock cliffs above many of the roads.  And the country is so hilly that the roads do the roller coaster thing, or else are occasionally blasted through the rock.

Here's a couple of houses that make a little town at a corner in the road.

Ho hum, another road winding through the hills and cliffs :)

Don - you're sending me to Mountain Home - a stronghold of the KKK!  I even though I needed to pee, no stopping there, no way.

Crossing the Buffalo River

Okay - heading to the town of Peel - that's where the ferry takes me to the Missouri side of the lake.  This lake...

Okay, now I'll try and upload a video of the ferry arriving at the dock.  Note the rain, yes, after using luck and skill, and Don's weather reports, I finally had a significant rain event.  Rained all afternoon - which "dampened" my enthusiasm for taking pictures.

I have a video of the trip as well, but it's taking a long time to upload.  I'll keep checking until midnight, and then go to bed.  (note, didn't make it - try my youtube account

On the way across the lake, the rain got worse.  I reached the other side, and rode to the first place of shelter:  Tony's Pizza.  I stopped, and sure enough, there were two Russian motorcyclists who had stopped there to wait out the rain as well.  They were headed the other way, and left shortly after I got there.  There was a grandfather there with his grandson who wanted to give me advice on which way to go.

Anyway, on the road again, light rain, occasionally stronger, and then I stop at Dawt Grist Mill.  Which is now a restaurant, and they no longer have the mill set up, just the water wheel (not near the water) and some of the parts.  I took video of the sluice and dams, so you can at least get a feel for how the water is brought to the wheel.  I'll put that on youtube eventually.

So I pull into the Super 8 in West Plains, MO, and it turns out the guy behind the desk (Chris) just finished motorcycle mechanic school, and was really interested in the trip, the bike, etc.  We probably gabbed for an hour.  He suggested some roads for my trip north tomorrow, and sure enough, they are exactly the same roads that Don has on the map.  He got me a room on the first floor.  Anyway, the Super 8 in West Plains MO is definitely motorcycle friendly.

Okay, time for breakfast.

To ride or not...

This is probably the last good day we're going to get this year for riding. November 21st and it's sunny, and the temp will get above 50!! Tomorrow it may snow. The RC is calling for an "informal" ride.

I've got a scratchy throat - probably coming down with what the kids had last week, bless 'em.

Switching from riding to guitar for the winter.

My bike's electrical system developed some kind of short right as I put it away after the last ride. I think I can fix it, if nothing got seriously damaged. The wiring under the front fairing was smoking, but it didn't start until I was rooting around in the spare battery box for my garage door opener. I bet I took some of the old police accessory wires and crossed them or something.

Oh, what the heck, put on the long underwear, put electrical tape on the wires, and go for it!

How the Mighty Fall

Here's a link to a video showing Brad Pitt dropping his bike while trying to lane-split. (I got this from Keith Ciffus on our club website).

Low speed maneuvering is really tricky. But take heart, all ye newbies who drop your bike occasionally; it's highly unlikely anyone has it on video.

Most recent close call

I posted this in the Twin Cities Motorcycle Club blog back in October. Reprinted here by permission of the author - well, me.

I watched the purple horizon turn orange and then blue this morning, bummed that I wasn't going to school and playing hooky from work with the folks escorting Keith's niece. Got pneumonia, Virago half disassembled waiting for its new stator, Venture on its center stand with the cover off waiting for me to figure out why it was misfiring on the last ride, and an experiment to run at work. Weather wasn't that cold, either. I haven't ridden in two weeks, and I imagine like a lot of you I get a little moody when I don't ride.
Anyway, get home from work, it's so warm out, I decide to button up the Venture and ride it to my doctor appointment. Seems to run OK, it's getting dark but still warm. After the doctor (stay out of the cold, avoid dust and smoke), I figure why not take a little ride and check out the mis-fire problem? After all, it's not cold out, so I'm staying out of the cold, right? So I get on the on-ramp to 694, and try to open it up in 3rd gear, and WHOOSH, it's up to 60 by the end of the ramp! 6000 rpm, no problem! It's cured! I guess those folks on the Venturerider.org forum (and our senior rider Tony) who suggested it was a wet ignition (TCI box) were right. I can't believe it, zipping along the highway, downshifting to check it at high RPM, just as good as ever.So where to go - maybe east on 36 where I can still ride fast, and I take the exit and everthing is still great. Well how to go home? I'll turn south on Lake Elmo ave, west onto MN 5,ride back to 694 and head south to home. I don't like to ride at night on back roads this time of year because it's bambi season, so I have only about a 2 mile stretch of 17 and the rest is pretty busy. So, I turn at the light from 36 onto 17 and of course I have to open it up all the way in 2nd and 3rd gears just to check it out again. Yup, my big powerful baby is back! Shift into 4th, turn on the high beams and...
Two deer leap out of the field on the left onto the road and....start walking. One's in my lane, one's in the oncoming lane, and I'm on the linked brakes and the front brake and I'm not going to stop in time. Off the brakes, I swerve just to the rear of the first deer hoping to pass between them, and in my head the second one has to get spooked and is either going to T-bone me or run back to the left - the deer in my lane will probably leap off the road. I split the two deer and I can't believe it, neither one of them stopped walking. I could have reached out and touched either of them, and the 1000lb+ of bike and rider just zipped between them and they didn't even care. I looked in the mirror and they both just walked off the road, didn't even look at me.Well, I guess I'm to the stage of riding where the adrenaline of a near miss goes away in only about two minutes. I pat my chest and look at the stars and think it's great to be alive, and I make it home safely.
So now I'm home, and thinking, does the corn in Lake Elmo contain valium?

My first motorcycle Ride.

My first motorcycle was a 2001 Suzuki GZ250. It had something ridiculous like 200 miles on it, about 2 years old, and I bought it used before I had my license. It was a seriously cute little black thumper, one cylinder, 5 speeds, chain drive. I'm almost 6' tall, a little big for it, but it was a great bike to learn on. It was easy to pick up when I dropped it (which of course I did a couple of times). But it had great cruiser styling, a comfy seat, simple controls, and a sizzling top speed of 65 mph (unless we were going uphill, in which case it was more like 50). A cool thing that made this bike a great commuter was the 70 mpg, combined with a 3 gallon tank, which gave it outrageous range for an itty bitty bike.



Once I had my permit I took my first ride. I was nervous, it was Woodbury Garage Sale weekend, and my most dangerous task was to get out of town! I figured I would survive my first ride, after riding a bicycle for 5 years all over Northern California and the streets of Oakland. I put on the choke, turned the key, held in the clutch and thumbed the starter. This was my first experience with electric starter on a bike (the bikes I stole rides on as a kid were all kick starters). Chug, chug, chug, vroom........putt putt putt putt - the one cylinder engine did it's little idle thing, like a lawnmower on steroids. So I backed it out of the garage, pointed it down the driveway, pulled the clutch, dropped it into first, and slowly let out the clutch. And it just smoothly took off, and a we leaned gently at the end of the driveway. First gear until I went up the hill to the top of the access road to the development. Now I had to stop at the top of the hill. Had it all planned - hold the clutch in, angle to the right 'cause I'm about to make a right turn onto the street, put down my left foot, hold the bike still with my right foot on the back brake.


Well, what happened of course, is that putting on the back brake while turning right tends to drop the bike over to the right - and it did, and I had to dance my right foot to hold the suddenly heavy bike up, while putting the left foot back on the peg. And then I had to grab the front brake to arrest the bike's roll backwards down the hill. And I did it, with a little swearing and kept the clutch held in.


"OK, calm down, no big deal," I say to myself. I let out the clutch again, and we slid back just a little before moving forward. (I remembered practicing this with the Checker Marathon's clutch & parking brake when I was learning to drive in 1974). Up to the next stop sign. I was on my way! This isn't so bad.


East on Tamarak road, and the pavement opens up to 4 lanes. I manage to shift all the way up to 4th - I think - unlike a car you can't tell what gear you're in by the shift lever. Zipping along at a brisk 40 mph, with cars passing me, and one comes a little close, and I say OK, lets turn on this sidestreet coming up and take a little break. Well, I down shift, probably all the way to first, and I turn, and the bike almost falls to the inside of the turn again because I should really be in second not first. Well, I'm on to it now, and I let out the clutch before driving it into the ground and coast the rest of the way around the corner.




And I stop and get my breath and start to think "Shouldn't I wait a month - I'm scheduled for the MSF beginner class, just wait until then?" But it's a beautiful day, and the thought of leaving all the garage sale noise and traffic behind is too strong. So I pull out a map, and plan a route.

Map of first ride, part 1

OK, now I have a plan. Turn around and continue east on Tamarak, right at the light, all the way through Hastings to Welch. (I have fond memories of canoeing down the Cannon River to Welch when a fall colors canoe trip turned into a winter wonderland canoe trip.) So, gotta turn around in the sidestreet and get back and try to walk it around in the street and put on the brake while turning and boom! my first drop. Now I'm disgusted, and make a mental note - don't use the brake while turning - and it's easy to pick up and I go on my way.

As soon as you get above 10 mph the bike is easy to handle. So for the rest of the trip - only turn at speed, and accelerate out of the turns. That's what the books say to do anyway. And it worked. Down Washington County 19, to US 61, and I merge onto 61 by 3M Chemolite in 5th gear with the throttle wide open. Wow, I'm going 65 mph, this little bike can sure fly, I'll never need anything bigger than this! Bugs splatter against my helmet, my padded denim jacket flaps in the breeze, and the wind makes me lean forward just to keep my arms from being stretched. But look at me, I'm a biker. I'm in the right lane, and (because I'm going down hill) I'm holding my own with the traffic. You sure can see a lot through the visor (first ride, new visor). Down into the river valley, across the bridge, through Hastings, and on to Meisville. Still feeling confident, except I forgot to shift into first gear once and stalled pulling away from a stoplight. Ebarassing, but stomp on the shift lever a few times, hold in the clutch, she starts right up, and no one can see I'm turning red inside the helmet. Other bikes are sometimes waving at me and I wave back when my left hand isn't hovering over the clutch.

I make the turn down county 7 to Welch, and it's hilly and curvey. I decide to downshift into third, which keeps me at about 35mph on this bitty bike and, engine whining, I zip into downtown Welch. Well, there's about enough urban area to score a soda, so I park, drink and pull out the map. No kids this weekend, weather is fine, a little chilly at speed but gotta keep going. So here's my plan.

First ride map, part 2

Going to Cannon Falls, hope to find lunch there. I remember my Steve McQueen (The Great Escape), pull off the gas cap, swish it around, and there's so much a little spills out. Clearly do not have to worry about gas. So off I go, and it's my first experience with twisty roads, riding along Belle Creek. And, unlike maneuvering in the parking lot, this isn't scary, it's FUN. I think it's because I used to ride a 30# bicycle in traffic, up and down mountains, with shorts, a tee shirt, and a little styrofoam/ABS hat. Here I am with way more power (22, count'em 22 horses), jeans, boots, a thick jacket, and a serious helmet. And the motorcycle at 20 to 30 mph steers like a bicycle at 50 mph (the countersteer deal) And instead of little 1&1/4" tires that skid on a single pebble I have these monster tires. It feels much safer to lean way over than on the bicycle. And I can power out of a turn, while on the bike I got only what my quads are up to at the moment. On that road, that day, I became hooked on motorcycles.

First Post? My life on two wheels.

Geez, what a dumb post title. Should I be doing this?

Anyway, here's where I'm going to put stuff out there and see what happens. The title "I'm not you but I'm someone. Who?" kind of sums it up. In a lot of ways I'm not a typical person. But I move through life like lots of other people and stuff happens, and I think about it, and I'm putting it down here.

Let me talk about motorcycles. I feel Arlo Guthrie summed it up pretty well.

I don't want a pickle, just want to ride on my motorcycle.

I don't want a tickle, I'd rather ride on my motorcycle.

I don't wanna die. Just want to ride on my motorcy.....cle.

As a kid, I was interested in mini-bikes when I was about 11. I had a friend who wanted one, too, and we pooled our allowances and bought a frame. We were going to keep it at his house - my parents were not excited about the idea. Then we'd buy a motor, wheels, chain & sprockets, centrifugal clutch, etc.

Well, our dreams were ahead of our skills at the time. One day we went to mini-bike dealer, and they had a used 2 cycle minibike for sale for about $50. Chuck and I looked at what we could do. I had a 1 1/4 HP engine I used to play with - had taken it apart and put it back together a couple of times. We had the frame. We had a couple of other things. With Chuck's dad we went over to the dealer, and they offered $20 for our assorted parts. We decided to buy the bike.

I went to my parents and asked them. "Don't waste your money on that" my dad said. So, I decided what he meant was don't use any more of my money - but my share of the frame, and the engine weren't money - so I still donated that to the cause, and Chuck ponied up the rest of the money and we were minibike owners. Boy were my parents mad.