Day Seven - Smelling the Barn

Today - 1194 miles
Total - 4500 miles

When I woke up this morning I decided to postpone making any decisions.  I was in Winslow, AZ, with lots of options to get home but they all started with heading east on I-40.  I was on the road at 8:00 AM.

The two options that made the most sense included staying on the interstate all the way to Amarillo and going home the normal way.  Or I could head south on US 84 from Santa Rosa.  When I saw that US 84 would take me through Muleshoe, TX, my decision was made.  This was the only picture I wanted to take today:

There really IS a Muleshoe, TX!

I also shot a video of crossing the railroad tracks into Texas.  I always get excited when I cross the border on my way home.  Usually that means you are halfway home from wherever you went.  Click here to watch it.

The most irritating moments today were claimed by someone in a Ford Explorer.  There we are, flying down the interstate, when this person passes me and then slows down.  I pass them.  They pass me.  I pass them.  They pass me.  Finally I had it and upped my ante from my normal speed limit +4 and left them in the dust.  What's with that?  I had my cruise control on the whole time.  My speed didn't vary.  I KNOW they have cruise.  Why in the world wouldn't they use it?

As far as I'm concerned, when I am out on the road like that, big trucks can do whatever they need to do.  They are trying to make a living and have a schedule to keep.  Sometimes they are fully loaded and sometimes they are empty.  Often the limits of their trucks are electronically controlled.  They can do whatever they need to do.

And that Econoline van pulling 5000 pounds of household treasures on a trailer designed for 2500?  Give them a break.  They are doing the best that they can.

But a perfectly good Ford Explorer?  Pick a speed and stick with it!

The countryside definitely changed when I headed south on US 84.  A two lane road heading miles into not much.  I thought, "This is like the experience people have when they are driving across North Dakota and they feel like they are in the middle of nowhere."  That's how I felt.  But I never feel like that in North Dakota.  No matter where I am, I am right there, I am somewhere.  Somewhere that sparks memories and stories.  Somewhere that matters.

I'm sure that the miles between Santa Rosa and Clovis matter to someone because there sure were a lot of cars and trucks passing that way.  It made it fun.  Passing vehicles on a motorcycle is fun.

Then I got to Farwell, NM.  Not having been that way before and without access to a map as I was riding at the time, all I noticed was that we got stopped by a train.  I asked the guy waiting to my right, driving his white dually pickup and pulling his mega-long horse trailer, "How far to Texas?"  I didn't understand his answer and felt too foolish to ask again.  He might have been from New Mexico and I didn't want to offend him with my swelling Texan pride.

Turns out the railroad tracks mark the border.  I had to turn around after that and repeat the experience for video (click to watch it.)



Then, 20 miles later, I got to Muleshoe, TX.  The interesting thing to me is that there didn't seem to be much going on out in the country on the New Mexico side.  That changed immediately on the Texas side with huge feedlots, huge dairies, and soon the sights and smells of black gold.  Muleshoe is quite the community.  I got a picture of my bike at the city limits and was tempted to take another in town as I passed a church.  The sign said, "Muleshoe Cowboy Fellowship".  I thought that would make a great picture if I added a caption, "So what do people do around here for fun?" but it was a church so I thought better of it.

As I headed toward Lubbock I could see weather up ahead and plenty of signs that a rather serious rain must have passed through recently.  It was also getting closer and closer to dark.  More decisions to make.

I knew US 84 would take me to I-20 west of Abilene.  From there I would have several options to cut across the heart of Texas.  I could have stopped for the night but I smelled the barn and I wanted to get home.  But which way?

As much as I don't like interstates on a bike, I love them in my truck.  They are relatively safe.  You can count on regular gas stations, rest areas, etc.  Most importantly, they have a buffer to keep you safe from ditch critters that two lane country back roads don't have.

I've been all the way across Texas on Hiway 6 and Hiway 36.  I've ridden on 183 and 281.  I wanted to get home and I didn't want to mess with any of those roads so I decided to take the long and safe way around.  I stayed on I-20 to Fort Worth, south on I-35 to Waco, and then home on Hiway 6.  I probably added an hour and a half but I was paying for the gas and I decided I would rather soldier through Sunday night darkness than deal with Monday morning traffic.

So it was that the Odyssey of the Seat ended with me rolling into the same garage I left a week ago.  I saw more country, rode more roads, killed more bugs, and ended up with a seat that could take me from Northern California to Houston, 2216 miles, in two days, without causing any pain or discomfort.  Thanks for joining me on the trip.

And if anyone out there wants to help Kelley and I get ready to move, would you be interested in buying a piano?

Day Six - If you want to get ahead, get an early start...

Today - 1022 miles
Total - 3306

I went to bed last night with a plan of leaving as soon as I woke up.  So I woke up at 1:30 AM.  I thought about going back to sleep but I really felt wide awake so I made coffee, got ready, packed the bike, and left at 2:00 AM.

There are several problems with riding at night.  Your headlights never show you all you want to see.  Animals are more active at night.  Lots of people driving cars at night ought not be driving.  Riding on the interstate takes care of some of that - you feel protected a bit in that.  But my greatest fear at night are alligators - big chunks of blown up tires laying in the middle of the road.  I've never hit one and I don't ever want to.  But I watch the road like a hawk when its dark.

The good thing is that it was cool (eventually it got winter coat COLD) and there was hardly any traffic.  I just headed south down I-5.

Now for the best part - my new seat.  When I got on my bike it felt like a different bike.  I sit higher and farther back which felt strange at first.  So I decided to try an experiment - to keep my feet on the floorboards as long as possible.

On the way out to California on my old seat, I would start hurting after about 30 miles.  So if I rode 500 miles in a day, 450 of them were spent with me shifting my weight, changing where my feet were, and constantly trying to get comfortable.  I thought it was just the price you had to pay to play.  Until I started reading about the Russell Day Long.

So here is my seat review:  The seat didn't minimize discomfort, it completely eliminated it.  I just kept going and going.  By my bike's odometer I rode 1022 miles today.  South on I-5, cut over to 99 on 46, south on 99 to Bakersfield, picked up 58 to Barstow, up the interstate a bit to take I-40 East.  I ended up in Winslow, AZ, 58 miles east of Flagstaff.  I didn't stop because I was tired - it was only 6:15 local time - I stopped because they had a Best Western and I need one more paid night to get a free night.

The seat was perfect.  Absolutely more than I had hoped for.  I can't wait to ride again tomorrow.

Beyond that, nothing to report about today.  I spent the whole day loving the interstate for how quickly you can get places and hating it for the constant jockeying with cars, etc.  Trade offs.

One thing I did notice today was the weird thoughts that cross my head.  At one point I saw a sign, "Sheriffs Detention Center" - and I wondered what is wrong with their sheriff that they have to detain him.  Why not just fire him?  Another time, in the middle nowhere in the Mojave desert, I see a sign "Desert Managed by Barstow District Office" and I thought, "I wonder how much management does a desert need?  I'm not sure but I'm certainly happy that someone is on top of that.

I realized all the mind games I play.  If it is 20 miles to the next gas station or town I just tell myself, "That's nothing.  That's just a daily commute to work."  200 miles?  "That's nothing, that's just driving to San Antonio."  I do that sort of stuff all the time.

So to end for today - long day of riding, the seat works great, two more days of riding and I'll be home on Monday night.  I didn't take a picture or video today - too crazy on the roads.  But I did take one once I got here - honor the trusty steed. (Sorely in need of a bath when we get home...it is bad luck to wash your bike while you're on a trip...except for the windshield and lights which get cleaned every morning.)

Day Five - The Build

Today: 60 miles

Total: 2284 miles

Maybe it was the time change or maybe just my excitement but I was wide awake at 4:30 AM.  Plenty of time to read, and to begin thinking about the trip home.  Kelley and I have decided to move and this will be the month so I have lots more reasons to be excited about getting home quickly than about seeing more of the country – that will still be there the next time I plan a long ride.

Click here to join me on my trip from the Fawndale Lodge into town.  You’ll notice that I was a bit early there too.  Must not have been the time change.

Russell Cycles is nothing like I thought it would be.  I was picturing a big building with lots of employees.  Come to find out it is a simple upholstery shop where the people couldn’t be any nicer.  First I filled out the paperwork and chose the details.  I went with the half moon pattern, a black leather insert with vinyl sides, the heavy duty spring package, and, of course, the electric seat warmer.  (It’s not like I plan to regularly use the seat warmer but I remember as clear as a bell freezing on the Alaska Highway and wishing my seat had one…next time, it will...)

I met Mike, my seatbuilder.  Great guy who loves his work and promised to do a great job for me.  Mike put a loaner seat on my bike so I had wheels.  Then I was off to my morning.

First stop was the Redding Harley Davidson dealer for an oil change.  Harley dealerships always take care of people out in trips first – but knowing that it doesn’t always work that way, I was there before they opened at 9:00 AM with my bike first in line for service.  I had 5000 miles on my oil.  I could have ridden home without hurting anything but I would have thought about it the whole time. 

An “oil change” on a bike like mine is a bit complicated as it means changing the engine oil, the primary oil, and the transmission oil.  It takes about an hour and costs about 5 times what an oil change in my Expedition does.  You gotta pay the fiddler.  But I got to spend that hour talking bikes and life with another customer so the time flew by.

I still had a little time left before the midday “sit test” and I remembered an old timey sign for a barbershop just up the road from Russell Cycles.  So I headed over there, considering getting a haircut.  Next thing I know I’m in Sal’s Barbershop and he’s taking a clipper to my head.  I should have known something was up since his price list included flat tops for $10.  I got the next best thing.

That done, it was time for my sit test.  It felt great and I was getting more and more excited.  I rode into Redding for lunch at the Black Bear Diner.  Great choice.  Then back to the Lodge for an afternoon by the pool.  This time Gloria, Rocky’s mom, joined us.

At 4:00 PM I was back at Russell Cycles.  I asked Mike to take some “before” and “after” pictures.  The first picture is on a stock seat – look at the angle of my knee and how high I sit.  The second picture is on the new seat.  I sit higher and further back, with more legroom than I have ever had on a bike.  I loved the new seat immediately.

When I rode back to the Fawndale Lodge I gave thought to just passing the exit and heading north.  But I have plenty of time to ride so I just headed back to the room.

As I said, my plans have changed.  I’m going to hurry home and love every minute of it.  South on I-5, cut over on 58 to Bakersfield and down to Barstow, and then I-40 east.  I’m hoping that staying a bit north will be a bit cooler than going all the way down to I-10.  It makes for a longer trip but not by all that much.

Besides, there are pieces of I-40 that I haven’t ridden yet so there is always the allure of untested waters.

Day Five - Teaser

I came all this way just to get a rebuilt motorcycle seat?  Yes I did. And guess what?  When Mike the Seatbuilder took my seat apart he discovered I had destroyed my old one. 

Between my rather substantial girth and my constant pushing back to get a little extra legroom, I broke both sides of the seat. Mike reinforced it with a new layer of sheet metal so it will be better than new. 

I test sat it at 11:15 AM and it should be done my 4:00 PM. 

Here is Mike and my newly reinforced seat pan. 

Awesome!

Day Four - And Now the Vacation Begins

Today: 127 miles

Total: 2224 miles

So what can I say about today?  When I was thinking about this ride it seemed to make sense to me to ride hard for the first few days and then have an easy day into Lake Shasta and relax.  That is pretty much what happened.

I took my time this morning.  Had a long conversation outside of the motel with two guys who are on their way to Prudhoe Bay.  Clearly one of the ultimate bucket list rides for anyone who likes motorcycles.  I would love to do it someday but a Harley Ultra Classic is not the bike for that ride.  You need a sport touring bike, something lighter, with knobby tires.  Like a BMW GS1200. The fantasy bike I will never own but still lust after.  (It is free to go to the BMW store and sit on it.)

Different tools for different jobs.  The Harley can’t handle the periodic gravel and often muddy Haul Road to Prudhoe Bay.  But it did a great job today of cruising through beautiful northern California on Hiway 44.

My motel last night sat right on Hiway 36.  Who knew?  I guess I didn’t realize that 36 joined 395 sometime along the way.  So all I had to do this morning was turn right and follow the road.  One more right on 44, another on I-5, and I was at the exit for The Fawndale Lodge, my home away from home for the next two nights.

Today’s ride was great.  Most of the ride was lined with evergreen trees that smelled wonderful.  Like riding with one of those green trees hanging from grandma's rearview mirror.  I didn't take any pictures today but I did make some music videos.  

Click here if you want to join me for 10 minutes of today's ride - including coming around a corner to see Mt. Lassen off in the distance, rising 10,457 in the air.  

Having it on video is great but nowhere near as majestic as it was in real life.  A good point to remember about everything we see on television.

At some point today I was over 5000 feet above sea level.  The weather was perfect.  The road was beautiful, tree lined almost the whole way.  And then I stopped for the only gas stop of the day.  At that point I had been going downhill for awhile.  What I didn’t realize is that I would still be going downhill 20 miles later.

Redding CA sits at 495 feet above sea level.  While it was cool in the high lands, it is HOT in Redding.  I believe that Redding is the hottest place I have ever been.  Last summer it was well over 100 degrees when I got here.  This year is just as bad.  It is blistering hot.  My fingertips were burning as I rode into town and up the freeway to Fawndale Lodge.  I’m going to have to remember to wear gloves on Saturday when I leave.  It is brutally hot here!

I got here early enough (c’mon, I only road 127 miles today!) that I could set up my room, run to town for food, etc., and still have plenty of time to hit the pool.  There I met a guy named Rocky.  He lives here with his mother.  Both of them receive social security disability payments.  I didn’t meet his mother but it is clear to me that Rocky could not possibly hold down a full-time job and normal life.  I’m thinking he is called “Rocky” because, if I wasn’t talking to him, he constantly rocked back and forth.

Rocky told me that a lot of the people who live here full-time are on SSI.  It is cheaper for the people in their families to buy an RV, and pay $400 a month rent to live here.  He said that Debbie and her husband (the owners who run the place) are very nice people.  I agree.  Debbie couldn’t have been more welcoming when I checked in.

So I add it all up and I think I’m staying in the perfect place.  I’m on vacation!  And tomorrow I head into town to Russell Cycles to get a handmade, custom, built live just for me, motorcycle seat.  This IS living large.

Day Three - Addendum

Like I said, I'm playing with a new camera.  This literally took hours this morning for YouTube to process, but here is a better quality movie of coming down another pass into Austin, NV.

Click here to join the ride...

And now I'm off to Shasta Lake.

Day Three - Leave with a Full Tank

Today: 642 miles

Total: 2097 miles

The planning for long rides begins in the backyard with the Harley Road Atlas.  I know where I am going and about how long I can be away, I use the Harley Road Atlas to start because I look for the roads highlighted in yellow.  US 50 across Nevada is one of those roads and I can verify that it deserves its status.  What a great day of riding!

The morning began in full vacation mode.  Leave the watch at home, go to sleep when you’re tired, get up when you wake up, leave when you’re ready.  My body clock told me I was ready to go at about 9:00 AM.  My motel was right on US 50 as I would be for the rest of the day.

Since I was starting in Salina, UT, I figured I could get to Delta, UT, pretty easily on the gas that was left in my tank.  So I decided not to fill up as I left the motel.  Before I left Salina, I changed my mind. You can’t go wrong if you start out with a full tank. 

Which made me think about how I had spent my morning.  At church I have been holding these bi-monthly learning times around prayer.  I’ve encouraged everyone that comes through that to set aside a 10 minute block of time each day for intentional prayer.  Sometimes I do that in the morning before I leave my house.  Other times it comes during the day.  On a motorcycle trip I have plenty of time while riding to connect with God.  But, time and again, I have learned the value of starting my day off on the right foot.  Whatever the content or style of such morning prayer, it is always best to start the day with a full tank.

So off I rode.  For all of its fame, US 50 out of Salina is nothing to write home to mother about.  It is just a two lane road that heads out into some beautiful desert country.  12 miles out I ran into my first road construction delay of the day.  Fortunately, it would be my only road construction delay of the day.

The real beauty of US 50 on a motorcycle is that you are either riding across the desert on a flat straight road where you are basically alone and can go as fast as you want, all the while seeing the next mountain pass that you will ride over coming closer and closer OR you are climbing the twisties to the summit and then flying through the twisties on the way down.  There are 17 such passes across the state, I hit a bunch of them.  In the 409 miles between Delta and Fallon, you only go through three small towns (Ely, Eureka, and Austin).  I stopped for gas in each one.

This is basically how I spent my day.

The plan was to stop for the night in Sparks/Reno.  I figured there would be plenty of hotel rooms and that would leave an easy 200 miles to get to where I’m going. As the day wore on I thought about the rides I used to do with groups.  Many years ago, that would mean ending the day about 7:00 PM, finding the motel, dropping off our stuff, finding a place for dinner, and then heading to a local dive bar for beer.  In bed by 10:00 PM or so then wake up and do it again.

Call it age or changes of priority but I’ve left those days behind.  Now all that really matters to me is getting to the motel and into comfortable clothes, talking to Kelley on the phone for awhile, having dinner and going to sleep.  Dinner is optional.  And writing a bit about each day.  Which, I’m learning, is often done best the next morning.

So I got to the Reno area but there was lots of sunshine left and only 83 miles to Susanville, CA.  I decided to get gas and ride on.  I don’t know why I expected the countryside to change once I left Nevada but it didn’t.  For a while.  Then suddenly, about 60 miles or so north of Reno, the hills to the west were covered with evergreen trees.  After a day in the desert, it was great to see trees.  It makes me look forward to Thursday.

Day Two - Enough with the waving...

Today: 560 miles

Total: 1455 miles

I woke up early but took my time getting ready to go.  Today was going to be Wolf Creek Pass day, from the mountains to the desert.  Wisely, I wore my leather coat.  I figured it might get a little chilly up higher.  Since I was staying on the north side of town, the morning began with a meandering ride through Walsenburg.  Which turned out to be a much more interesting town that it seemed to be from Exit 52.

When I finally cleared the town and headed out into the country on US 160, the truck in front of me turned right and I suddenly realized that I was following a law enforcement officer.  That's an interesting feeling, isn't it?  Even though I was not speeding and had nothing to worry about, just seeing that car with the lights on top and the ticket book hidden somewhere inside was enough to put a damper on the excitement of riding into the mountains.  Eventually he pulled off to the side of the road... and ...once I realized that he wasn't going to pull back in behind me, I breathed a little easier.

I think that is one of the reasons that people stay away from the church.  It feels like the law is breathing down their necks.  I get that.  But, when trouble comes, how quick are we to dial 911? 

By the way, I just inserted a tiny video of my friendly law enforcement officer pulling off and out of my way.  Figuring out how to do that is part of the reason I didn't write last night when I landed.  I hate to say it but the go pro camera idea is pretty much a waste.  At least for my purposes.  Or at least until I figure out how to do it.  The rest of the pictures I took are compromised by the big fat bugs that smashed into the camera lens at some point in the morning.  So much for that.

Mountain passes are fun.  By their very nature, we don't spend much time at them.  Few people live there so most of us are just visitors.  I was hoping for something spectacular but Wolf Creek Pass wasn't much to write home about.  It was actually tame.  Yet still cold at the top.  I took a great video - except for the bug part - of the ride up and over.  But it created too big of a file to upload.  So much for that.

I passed the Great Divide sign instead of stopping.  All that way and I didn't feeling like giving a few minutes to actually seeing and reading the sign.  I've used the idea of that sign in a few sermons along the way and I passed up my chance to take a selfie next to it.  But that is how I am almost the whole time on trips like this.  Mind pictures and stories to tell are far more important to me than actually pictures.

I thought about that for awhile after passing the Great Divide, until I got to the waterfall on the other side of the pass.  Made a quick decision to try the selfie thing and see if it makes any difference.

I realize some people might think that is better but me, not so much.

On into Pagosa Springs and down the road to Durango.  The first time I came through that particular stretch of road was on a trip to Sturgis with a big group of friends.  Kelley had called ahead and reserved rooms for us in Durango.  It had been a long day through New Mexico.  One bike needed work. We all needed something to eat and drink and a soft bed.  Add that together and I didn't fully appreciate how nice the road is between those towns.  

I got excited again as I passed through Durango because I was heading into uncharted territory.  At some point just outside of town I decided to quit waving to motorcycles.

I don't know where this tradition started but motorcyclists always wave to each other.  Always.  Even when I am commuting into Houston on I-10, if I meet a bike coming the other way on the HOV lane we will usually wave to one another.  At least people who have come to appreciate the tradition.  I've done it since I was riding my 1973 Honda 750.  It is a nice tradition.  Kind of a solidarity sort of thing.

But then there are "rally rules". Rally rules state that you don't wave to one another if you are in the vicinity of a motorcycle rally. You can't possibly wave to everybody if you are riding around the Black Hills during bike week in Sturgis.  It wouldn't be safe.  So, rally rules come into effect.  Once you cross the South Dakota state line you are wave free for the rest of the trip.

Well, the roads around here are as full of motorcycles as Houston is of Ford Expeditions and F-150's.  And frankly, I got tired of waving.  I invoke rally rules. I'm on vacation. No more waving for me.

From US 160 I headed north on US 491 and US 191 to ride through Moab and up to I-70.  It got hot.  Seriously hot.  As I passed through Monticello I decided that, if they had a Dairy Queen, I was stopping.  They didn't.  But they did have a little old fashioned looking ice cream stop so I decided to give it a try.  I passed it first and then had to U-turn through a gas station.  As I did so I remembered all those times my sisters and I begged our Mom to stop for DQ on long drives.  Sometimes we did stop.  Most of the time we didn't.  That is why stopping was actually a treat instead of an expectation.  Those days weren't all bad.

With all of that still in mind I walked up to the counter and told the girl taking my order that I decided that since I had been a very good boy all day, I would like a chocolate sundae please.  Good stop.

A person could spend weeks on vacation in Utah.  Who knew?  The rock formations on both sides of Moab are amazing.  I was thinking I could spend a whole day just looking at the same formation, seeing the shapes morph from ducky's to horsey's to wherever your mind wants to go.  Finally I got to I-70 and headed west.

I stopped for gas in Green River.  Here's my theory on how that town got settled:  Whoever got there first saw the water and said, "That's it. I'm done. I'm not taking another step." If that was the case, then they missed something spectacular.

I had no idea how magnificent riding west into the sun on I-70 was going to be. The sun painted all the distant mountains that pale shade of watery blue. The sights were incredible. The sign tells you that there are no services for the next 106 miles.  At first that sounds like a long stretch and you're glad you got gas in Green River. But once you start into those miles you are grateful that there isn't a Loves or Pilot or anything much to detract from the wonders of nature.  I'm ready to ride through there again.

But now I'm in Salina, UT, and it is time to hit the road again.  Next up, US 50, the loneliest road in America.  I don't know what that means but I'm looking forward to it.  Once I pick it up, just outside of town, I'll be following it all the way to Reno.

And I'm pretty sure I won't be waving much.  Probably anyway.