A long road to Cedar City, but I'm here.

Santa Fe NM to Page/Lake Powell is one for the books.  I've met some really good people on the road, and was able to help a fellow rider out with a fuel filter problem.  Got him back on the road and rolling.  So I thought I saw some good places to ditch a body driving to Santa Fe, well I found even more heading to Page.  One stretch of road, 83 miles of nothing but rocks and wind, which led me to a town called Kayenta. It's really not much of a town.  A Sonic, 2 gas station, a McDonlads and 2 or 3 other buildings which didn't catch my interest.  A very small housing community.  I pulled into one of the gas stations.  I have routine I've been following when getting gas in the desert:
1 - Take off helmet
2 - Store GPS in saddle bag
3 - Drink a pile of water
4 - Head into the station for some A/C (It's only about 100 degrees out here)
5 - Get gas

Well before I finished my water, a Native American came up to me wreaking of booze and asks if I can spare a couple of bucks so he can get some food at McDonalds.  I will help a person in need, but this guy was bombed.  Considering this guy had already drank a large amount of 'fire water', I pulled my standard line "sorry partner I'm on credit".  I learned this line playing in a band down in Orlando FL.  Playing a gig usually meant you would load your gear back into the van/truck around 2:00am, when all the panhandlers are in full force.  My favorite is when a panhandler would offer to help load our gear for $5...Yeah no thanks dude, I'd like to keep my gear.  I dunno what my Fenders would bring at a pawn shop, but I bet ol'boy does.  The Native American gent looked confused and walked away.  Not 30 seconds later another drunk walked up to me speaking no English with hand out...This one I didn't even answer.  Just finishing my water, a guy comes over to me and asks if he can have a couple of bucks for gas.  I dropped the 'standard' line and the dude asked me to run my card....Really?!?  This place must be the AZ capital of bums.  I just grabbed my GPS, put my helmet on and went on down the road.

Mistake.

15 miles in, my gas light went on.  No worries I thought, my turn is 10 miles up, I'm sure there's a gas station there.  I was right.  I pulled up to a pump, and like in the Blues Brothers movie...No gas...Man, my specs state I can get anywhere from 37 to 45 miles on reserve, depending on riding conditions.  Well conditions were big hills.  As I'm pondering my options, a gent on a Moto Guzzi rolls in for gas.  This was my road angel.  We chatted for a bit and he agreed to ride with me back to Kayenta...if either of us ran out of gas, the other would bring back a gas can.  Off we went.  We both made it, perhaps in part due to a slow cargo truck, which helped keep the RPMs down.  I got to talking with the gent (Evan), who was from Georgia and also out on a cross country tour.  He was solo too.  We shared some stories laughed a little....That's when McDonalds man rolled back up.  Seriously, is this your job I asked?  He stumbled away.  Thanks for the talk Evan, safe travels brother.

I rolled into Page and found a hotel with a pool.  I considered that a shower.  After the pool, I headed right across the street to a bowling ally for some food.  Mistake.  When I saw they only had the same style of pizza that I was served in grade school, I decided to do myself a favor and try another place.  Found the Dam Bar & Grill.  I ordered a salad, and it was respectable.

The next day I awoke at 4:40am, and instead of just trying to fall back asleep I decided to catch the sunrise. Amazing sight.  After a few pics, I headed back to the hotel for a real shower.  After the shower I noticed my back was hurting, so I pulled out the tablet and found a Jillian Michaels Yoga workout.  Seemed like the thing to do...Wow, did she beat the tar outta me! Detroit yoga has nothing on Jillian.  Another shower and I was on the road.

Cedar City UT was only about a 3 hour ride.  Baby shit after what I had rode the previous days.  So again I took the scenic route.  I pulled into a gas station at highway 251 and 14.  There I came upon a true bad ass. I saw a BMW GS650, and it looked beat.  It's owner was sitting at a small patio table smoking.  His name was Pete.  He has been on the open road since Oct 2013, and has put 26,000 on his bike since then, 1/2 of it on dirt/mud/clay.  Sometimes with his lady and his dog!  He filled me with his tales, and it made me think. Thinking is not what I'm best at, but I liked his style.  Throw caution to the wind and just do it.  He told tales of making money on a crab boat, building skyscrapers and riding in snow and ice.  This guy runs his own show.  I've got about 4,000 miles on this run, and I'm guessing I'll have another 3,000 by the time I arrive in Berkley MI.  I'm working on it Pete...I'm working on it.

I'm gonna be in Cedar for a few days hanging with Wendy's brother Alex and his girlfriend Kenzie and their boy Hayden.  Taking a trip to see Wendy's parents this weekend.

Here's a few pics.

Cheers to the road

Glen Canyon

Sunrise, 5:30am

AZ/Utah border 

Mr. Badass and I

The "little" red machine of Mr. Badass

Too much, too soon (Slapshot. Anyone, anyone?)

So the bike was indeed back together.  Part mishaps aside, the boys at Plano BMW motorcycles got me back on the road...and what a road it was today.  Safe and sound today in Santa Fe, NM.


I departed the Miller's while they slept at 5:45am, for fear Chris would load me up with Breakfast Stout before I hit the road. I could see the writing on the wall, the greater Dallas area was due for some serious rain.  25 miles out, I gassed up and put on my rain gear.  Not 5 minutes later the heavens opened up, and what a show they put on.  Between Denton TX and Decatur TX, I got hammered.  Sideways rain, lighting lightning illuminating the pre-dawn sky and I think some hail.  I limped into a gas station to check the storm front and hung for about an hour as Weather Underground had all red over and around me for about a 5 mile radius.  At about 8am rain was still solid, but the lightning had passed and it looked as if a 20 mile run West would clear me of the storm...I was close.  1.5 hours later, I was clear of the rain. 


When in doubt, do what The Orbitsun's sing "when the lighting starts to strike, get out of that storm"...Noted good sir!


I chose to tell the GPS to avoid major highways.  Time to take the scenic route.  Well by the time I hit the New Mexico boarder, I was doing a rain dance. it was 94 degrees out and I was wearing my leather and black full face.


There is something natural all humans share.  The need to breath.  I have found in a lot of situations that we humans forget to breath...My examples:


Playing a bass solo.
During that long pause after you tell a client their payroll is hosed.
Lifting weights.
When my favorite yoga teacher (Brian Lubaway) tells the class to start in boat pose.
A first kiss.
A kiss good-bye.
Passing a semi-truck doing 80mph.
Watching one of my stocks gain 300% in one day.
Watching said stock lose 290% the next day.


We all have our moments when we forget to breath.  Smells of the road where I want to hold my breath:


A dead skunk.
Cattle pastures.
Behind a semi-truck hauling livestock.
And the king of them all....Waffle House.  Seriously, those that enjoy that place probably enjoy sniffing their socks after a 3 hour aerobic workout.  I'd rather eat my socks than eat at that establishment. 


Western Texas and most of New Mexico are perfect areas for ditching dead bodies.  Seriously!!! You won't need to dig a hole...No one is out there, and no one will find them.  No need to dig a hole.  If anyone ever needs a point of reference to hide a body, I have 12 billion spots for you.  I'm very glad the BMW folks got my bike working right....If I was stranded out there...that might be the last you heard of me.


100 miles outside of Santa Fe, the temperature started to become respectable.  However that doesn't mean Mother Nature wasn't playing her tricks on me.  Winds were gusting in the 30mph range (educated guess here) tossing the bike from center line to shoulder.  All in all it was manageable, but I could have done without being pushed around after 550 miles.


Total count on the trip odometer today - 679 miles...I'm beat, Santa Fe is nice, and I'm gonna hit the sheets, as tomorrow is another day.


Cheers to the road

Miles and some deep bullshit thoughts.

Being stuck with a broken machine has taught me a few things:
1 - Moving is much better than not moving.
2 - Having friends, even friends you haven't seen in awhile, is a blessing.
3 - Just when you think you've got it all figured out, life throws you a curve.
4 - Friends will help you cope with the curves.
5 - Alone on a road is no place to be.

With the machine laid up for roughly 2 weeks, friends helped me pass the time.  They took time out of their busy lives for this middle aged Summer gypsy and opened their hearts and homes.  Missing the rally in Utah was a setback, but when one door closes, all I had to do was look for the next open door.  That door does not always present itself, but it's there....You just have to find it.

I've met a lot of great people so far on this ride, and I'm starting to field the same questions from many of them.  While the questions are phrased different, they all mean the same.  The question sounds something like this "Why are you choosing to support a cause in this manner?"

For one, because I can, and I choose to.  I don't know of anyone else that has done this before.  I do know some brave souls that have sat through round after round of chemo-therapy, and by most medical wisdom, they didn't have a choice.  It's time I start asking those questions back - What's holding you back from doing what you want to do?  Exactly what kind of horseshit excuses are holding you back?  Let me take a stab at the short version of what you might say:

Money
The kids
My job
School
Transportation
Significant other
Time (ties in with just about all above)

Sometimes the biggest obstacle you face in getting what you want out of life, is you.  If you want something in life, and I mean really want something, you'll do what it takes.  If those that love you see you really trying to archive your dreams, they will support you.  They may not like it, but they know you're gunning for the stars.  Don't say "I wish I could just win the lotto" when you don't even play.

Judge not unless ye be judged...I'm not perfect.  I screw up (some would say alot).  I easily get caught in the day to day activities that make me forget about hopes and dreams.  I'm human, just like you.

Ok...slight rant over.

Thank you Ben and Pam Rosenthal and Chris and Lyz Miller for hosting me in the greater Dallas area!  To the Harmon's, I'll see you guys around July 1st.  Leave the light on.

Early tomorrow I hit the road headed for Cedar City UT.  It's gonna be hot, and I'm gonna be padded up for the road...Water and energy bars in tow, and guardian angles looking over my shoulders. 

Here are a few pictures I've managed to snap over the past couple of weeks.

Afton WY - Worlds largest Elk Horn arch...I didn't even know there was a competition?

Kick ass burgers!  Ft. Worth TX

I must have seen this John Wayne movie 5 times.

Slick Delivery!  My buddy Chris Miller playing lead get-tar (that's how they say it in Texas)

Cheers to the road

The things I break - Ride update

The diagnosis is in on the bike, and being I ride a semi-rare, semi-unpopular BMW 1200CLC, finding the correct parts are no small task.  So after being dropped off at the Plano TX BMW dealership at 2:15am, and dumping the bike at the back door, hiding the key for the techs, and having a surprisingly spry El'Harmon pick me up....The bike will need a new final drive (or what would be called a drive shaft and it's respective parts).  Now if I was riding just about any make or model of bike, say a Harley or a Honda, there would be 300 of these final drives available within 20 square miles.  Instead, I ride a German built bike, and only TWO of these final drives are available, in the entire BMW service world.  To boot, they're in Germany.  So I have a 7 day wait for shipping then about a day for install.  I should have known I was in trouble when the the tow driver noted that he had never seen or heard of a BMW motorcycle.  He was 41 and had been in the tow business since he was 14 years old.

The tow to Dallas was about 250 miles (again, covered by my roadside assistance plan).  Warren was the owner and operator of the company.  Warren rolled up in a GMC Yukon, and a trailer.  It was about 7pm.  Warren had his wife and 6 year old child along for the ride.  Seemed logical enough...he hadn't seen them in a few days so this would be bonding.  Warren knew the area pretty well and let me know that the Duck Dynasty guys film and operate out of Monroe LA.  Well before I know it I received the grand tour of Willie's Duck Diner (the food was not good...Somewhere between a southern sprinkled Ponderosa, and a Joe's Crab Shack without all the garbage tacked to the walls), and Duck Dynasty Headquarters.  The Duck boys HQ had a striking resemblance to a place where one would pick up used truck and tractor tires.

Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, the Yukon blew a tire.  What I mean by this is the tire blew at 70 mph, with an over-sized Mac Truck on our tail and a sub-compact next to the trailer with the bike.  For 15 to 20 seconds Warren dropped some serious Baptist revival messages at full volume, but no dirty words.  I however dropped a few because it felt like we blew all 4 tires on the Yukon.  Warren skillfully got the truck into the median without locking up the brakes.  He and I jumped out to inspect the damage and found the rear drivers side was trashed.  Warren let me know he couldn't have jammed on the brakes any harder or he would have risked jackknifing the trailer and rolling it and the Yukon.  Good job Warren, good job indeed. We moved the Yukon over to the right lane shoulder to get some solid ground on the jack, and I mentioned that changing a tire is always more adventurous when semi-trucks are cruising 4 feet from the jack-man.  A few minutes later we're back on the road, and found out that Warren indeed was a Baptist Minister, and toured in a gospel choir.  Thanks for the tow and blessings good sir.

Chilling at the Harmon's house was a joy and a pleasure.  Seeing the Harmon family was fantastic, and getting a solid soak in the hot tub and pool kept my back from sending any more electric style shocks to my limbs when I turn my head.  I lived with Mr. Matt Harmon for at least 8 years.  When we got to his house after dumping my bike at the dealership, the first thing he did was offer me a beer.  It was like any typical Orlando FL night when we lived together.  Time had stood still.

Well, I have a rally to attend in Panguitch June 11-14. I may not be able to camp with the well respected Beehive Beemers, but I'm looking at renting a bike (likely a Harley) and making an appearance. I would at least like to shake the hands of the good folks that helped cement my Utah visit.  So while I wait for my bike to get repaired, I booked a flight to Utah, to link up with my friends Bob and Liz Turbyfill.  Bob was one of the kind soul that pulled me through my first 6-8 months at ADP.  I also learned early that Bob is one hell of an extreme sports athlete.  He's put me through my paces on mt. bikes, snow ski's, and dirt machines...each time I found myself struggling to keep up, but still holding my own in all except real Lake Tahoe black run moguls.

Well I talked Bob and Liz into some Sunday riding in American Fork Canyon.  I rented a quad sport (Honda 450).  After getting the very odd directions on starting the machine, off we went.  The odd directions were to not give the machine gas when starting it as it could do damage to the clutch.  Well the goofy machine wouldn't start at all unless it was in neutral with the clutch pulled in, then you have to give it gas in 1st gear or the POS would stall out.  Whatever, I won't touch the gas when starting it, and I didn't.  Well this was some serious rock, river and boulder climbing to get to a fantastic spot called Forest Lake.  I struggled with the slick tires over the rocks, but was the first one up the mountain.  Not because I was good, simply I went first to insure help was around if I high-centered.  We shut the machines down to cool off while we enjoyed the views and snapped a couple of pictures.  After 30 minutes, it was time to continue on our merry way.  Everyone had their machines going, but mine wouldn't drop into gear.  Seems I blew the clutch.  You have got to be kidding me!!!!  Bob being former military, and probably an Eagle Scout, had an 8 foot tow strap among his many potentially life saving supplies.  He towed me down the trail for an hour, and we loaded the machine up.  Upon delivery, I called the rental place and said I had a wonderful time and I'd provide referrals in the future.  So far no calls from the rental place about additional cost for a new clutch.

Official counts of crap broken on this leg of the trip:
1 blown final drive
1 blown tire on the tow vehicle
1 blown clutch

That's only in the past 5 day.  Keep throwing the good vibes my way, as I can use all I can get.

Cheers to the road

Warren for the tow to Dallas - 250 miles

Duck Dynasty - Willie's Diner...No real reason to eat here.

Duck HQ 

Just a few feet away, speeding tractor trailers...They didn't mention this in high school auto shop

The Harmon family pool and hot tub

American Fork - Forest Lake view

Off the trail and back to the staging area - Bob and his mighty tow strap

2.5 hours till pick up....Nothing but time.

First off, I'm OK.  I started off today in Atlanta GA at 5am, fresh from an excellent stay in Bentonville AR.

The little voice inside my head was chatting away at all the people I need to thank, and about something funny to write in the blog.  Well I heard a lyric to a song once, that said "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans".

Well somebody laughed at me as the little voice was crafting the rough draft...But all is well:

I rolled through Vicksburg MS, passed the mighty Mississippi River and started a long fast pace towards Dallas TX.  Let me tell you there isn't much but heat and flat land between Vicksburg and Monroe LA.
Attempting to roll through downtown Monroe, I heard something..."eh, could just be the road" I thought. Another 1/2 mile I heard AND felt something.  I scouted for a safe place to pull over without getting taken out by traffic (mostly semi-trucks at 2pm here in Monroe).  Found a spot 1/2 mile from an exit, and decided it was safe enough, just as lights started flashing.  What those lights mean, hell if I know, it's just not good when any lights are flashing urgently at a rider.  I coasted over to the side of the road, and turned the bike off.  Just then a jolly gent pulled over behind me to block traffic.  I walked over to him and and more or less explained I had no idea what was going on.  The jolly gent offered to follow me with his hazards, to the exit, which we did as the noise progressively got worse. I limped the machine into a Super 8.  The jolly gent said he could see my rear tire wobbling.  I believed him as I could feel it.  I told the good Samaritan thank you as I reached out with my hand introducing myself.  He shook my hand and said "My name is Santa".  There is no denying his resemblance to Santa.  I refined my thank you to be "Thank you Santa", and off he went.  My guess with the help of a phone call to BMW dealerships is the rear wheel bearing, and final drive are shot.  Or so the leak on my rim told me, and the dealer.

The Super 8 on Glenwood Dr. in West Monroe has world class employees.  While they do not have any rooms available, they are allowing me to hang in their A/C and wait for the roadside assistance folks to come get me.  

So I have 2.5 hours, and then a tow to Dallas, as that's the closest BMW dealership with the parts.  I better call Harmon and let him know I'm gonna be a bit off schedule, and he's gonna have to fetch me from Plano.

While this maybe an irritation to most, I have some pretty powerful guardian angels.  I'm good.  I could have been stuck in the middle of BFE.  I could have gotten the el'cheap roadside assistance plan (good old Tereck Hallsey insured I have the best roadside plan one can have).  I could have really hurt myself on that bad rear wheel.  But I'm just fine, the tow to Plano TX is covered, and I'm hanging out in a Super 8 lobby with A/C.  The bike is just a machine, and parts for those are replaceable.  The human body and mind is not so easily replaceable.

I will be writing a letter to Santa this year thanking him.  Plus I'm gonna buy the nice folks here at the Super 8 some pizza for being so kind.

That dark leak is not good....Very much BAD

Broken

.  Oh...And I gotta call Matt Harmon to tell him where to fetch me.

Cheers to the road