Man Camp, September 2012

  Every year a group of us guys get a chance to leave work, family, and worries behind for a day and kick it with a number of other dudes needing a getaway and guy-time (that's what my wifey calls it...).  We find a remote location so's not to upset the locals and set up our town of tents, trailers, and mobile homes.  The point is to let loose and not think too much about anything except where the next beer is coming from and how long it will be until cookie calls for for chowtime.  In the past, there may have been a lot of fire...and jumping of flames...and even a little shooting.  This year proved to be a little more tame than the few I've been to, which I attribute to the maturity increasing due to a bit of aging as well as the addition of of ankle-biters and better-halves to our lives.
  We all arrived Friday night, set up camp, and mowed down on burgers and brats for dinner.  I would like to throw an 'atta-boy' out to Shawn, the camp cook.  He's a staple of this event and makes the experience even better with the amazing food he prepares.  A full man is a happy man...   It was also great of him to bring the first night's entertainment.  His son, who is a freshman Engineering student attending WSU, just happened to be a little lippy that first night and found himself being taped up by the fire.  I had just missed it by heading to bed earlier, but also hear tell he managed to kick his own ass by tripping over a log and kissing mother earth...hard.  The scar I saw on his face the next morning would prove this is not just rumor.
   Okay, let's get to the pics... Andrew knows the area pretty well so he lead us up Arid Peak trail. 
 
  The first section revealed a pretty good little creek crossing that proved to be a bit of a challenge. Kurt managed to find the only boulder under the water and dumped it, and the technical rocky exit managed to get a number of riders snotted up.  The wetter the rocks got the trickier it became.  Hobbit Scotty (picture explanation to follow) had to turn back due to a faulty clutch, and ended up breaking a chain on the main road.  We all felt for him, but it's a damn good thing he ended up turning back.  This would have been brutal getting a bike out of without a chain.  The rest of the ride to the peak was quite a climb with tight switchbacks and steep technical sections that required a recipe of momentum and 'hold on tight!'.  I have NEVER had the trusty 200 spew coolant, but it did on this climb.  I wasn't the only one though...there were quite a few of us on 'team steam' during the climb...

  This is what some of the trail looked like...this is the kind of trail I really enjoy.  Not too rocky and pretty to boot.  I mean, don't that look great?  Aside from the major dust we were eating all day this was as good as it got...

  This is gnarly.  Rocky, steep, and with nowhere to fall but to the right.  The whole time I was trying not to look to the left which was steep and without foliage to break a fall.  See that large pointy rock that says 'no way, buddy'?  Yeah, I hit that damn thing straight on, unexpectedly popped a wheelie, and went exactly where I shouldn't have been looking.  A quick hop off the bike managed to keep the bike a few feet down the hill and me only a few meters further.  Five minutes later Jesse rolled back down to find a tired Phil on the trail again and gasping for air.  I made it though...I always do...


...and it was well worth it.  What a view.  The fires around the area made these shots hazy...you'll see the haze in all the landscape pics.

Yes, there's a trail here...see on the left?

  At the peak, we found ourselves in what can only be described as a damned boulder field.  Jackson went down hard here and managed to loose his fancy gas-cap breather tube thingy, so he was dipping his netheregions in gas most of the way down...

  Well, this is the nicest part of the ride...the exit.  That little sign to the left states that this trail is a 'one-way only' trail.  You do NOT....nay, you CANNOT go UP this trail!  It is too steep, with step-ups that are just too big to make it up.  It was brutal enough coming DOWN the trail. 
  I have found that there are two types of trails for me: Check-off trails and nice trails. Nice trails are pretty self-explanatory.  Check-off trails are the ones that I can say 'been there, done that, got the T-shirt' and will never do again.  I can seriously say Arid Peak is a Check-Off trail.  I didn't get the T-shirt but that's okay...
  Here's the GPS details of the loop we did:

3100 feet in 5 miles up, 3100 feet in 4 miles down

  Back at camp the beer was cold and the sammiches were great.  I was pooped and was ready to call it a day, but then word was spreading about a ride up to She-foot and I managed to convince myself I had it in me for one more ride.  Unfortunately, we went up 'Long Liz' - the same tight 'Check-off' trail I had done last year with Jason which had some of the tightest switchbacks I've seen.  This year was no exception, except the first section had been groomed the day before which left two inches of fine dust powder. 

 

It's a good climb, but again...what a view.  Again, a few of us were part of 'team steam' up this trail.  We continued on to meet up with the rest of the B-course jokers at the Shefoot lookout...

Frank, me, Kymn, and Jason taking in the sights

  The riding had taken it out of me and I was ready to crash, so instead of going down 'Big Dick' (that's the trail name, for reals) I went back on the road with Kymn, Frank, Scotty, and Russ.  I'm glad I did too, or I wouldn't have seen this view...

Nice pic, Kymn

  Here are the GPS details of the Shefoot ride:

   So now for some honorable mentions....

Trail Boss 'B Course'

 This is Kymn 'B-Course Trail Boss'.   For those who don't know, dirt riding is typically split into three levels: A, B, and C.  A-course consists of single track, B-course is mainly 2-track and dirt roads, and C-course is dirt-roads and highway.  We don't screw around with that C-crap, but Kymn is a badass b-course man...

 This dude givin' the stank eye is Jason...he pretty much puts together this shindig.  Getting Cookie to cook for us, doing the shoppin', and setting location...he's the man.  Thanks Jason!  He also brought his dad on this trip.  It really explained a lot...

Ummmmm

 I don't know what to say, except this is Scotty.  He's a goofy little dude that just so happens to look a bit like a hobbit here, so I thought it deserved a spot!

 

B-course boys: Darth Frank, Ray, (Ryan's Ukranian friend who's name escapes me right now), and Russ

 

  It wouldn't be a real man camp without a few shenanigans.... sticker for Franks truck...

 

  Jason's dad and Kurt, the only guys in camp with long hair...Kurt got the shnazzy nose and glasses from the 'grab bag' that evening.  Jessee was really gettin' after those cheeze puffs...I'm pretty sure he ate the majority of them.
  A noteworthy shout-out to Jason's dad...what can I say...I think he surprised us all and told us some stories that we will unfortunately never forget!
  Until next year...

 

Hiawatha Ride, August 2012

  So the wifey has been really wanting to do the Hiawatha with the kids all summer and we finally made it happen.  To make the experience even better, my buddy Darcy and his family and his brother-in-law's family came along too. 

Darcy rearin' to go...what's that growin' out of his head?!

  I had to show this pic...Darcy is clearly a devoted biker...I mean who brings a $3k bike to a ride where you barely have to pedal?  I have to say though, his light saved our bacon - I thought the train was right behind me!

Darcy's brother- and sister-in-law (owner of three kids)

 

Kristin counting kiddos...

The whole gaggle...ready to hit the Taft Tunnel

    And let me tell you, it was apparent it was the first time the kid-to-parent ratio was more than 1:1 for me.  It was great fun though...they kids screamed damn near the whole way through the first tunnel - the Taft Tunnel - and were totally into it!  

Taft Tunnel Exit

Stopped for lunch

...holy moly...do you see that headlight!?  That thing made me feel like we were being chased by a train...

Shlepping the 'chariot'

End of the ride!

Rat Dog Enduro Ride, 2012

  Two of my thoughtful buddies from work, Jason and Kymn, asked me months ago if I wanted to check out the 'Rat Dog' ride this year...they've been talking about it for a few years and I think they figured it was time to actually DO it.  It looked interesting...single-track riding on the Oregon coast conjured visions of  riding through lush green forest and experiencing extraordinary hook-up on that dark, rich, moist terra firma.  I'll try anything once (well, almost anything) so I was in!
  The trip over was somewhat uneventful...Jason and I managed to take the long way through Portland, while Jackson and Curt managed to almost make it south to Wilsonville.  It all worked out thought, and we found the base camp after 8 hours of driving: Diamond Mill OHV Staging Area.  This was a MUCH smaller gathering than the Black Dog ride, with probably only 60 riders.  After a great Treager dinner provided by Jason, it was time for the night ride.  We took off a little early, but found out that was fine because it was so damn dusty than when it did get dark my damn light just refracted right back in my face.  There was some steep trail with gnarly baby-head-size rocks that seemed to bounce me from one side of the trail to the other...kinda frustrating!  Where o' where is that jungle I was dreaming about...

   Weelll...we eventually ended up getting completely lost.  The roll chart wasn't done quite well enough and I got seriously turned around while fearless leader (Jason H.) rode around trying to find the proper trail...with us in pursuit.  About that time Jason M's bike started running badly...this is a 2012 KTM 500EXC with maybe 700 miles on it.  It was dying constantly and wouldn't start with the electric starter, leaving a very tired kicked-out Jason ready to find camp.  I had my GPS on me but hadn't turned it on because I saw Jackson had a GPS on his bike.  Problem was, he didn't know how to use the thing...it was merely a result of a recent $2000 testosterone-fed shopping spree of his (more on that later).  The only good thing we had going was that he knew just enough to make a waypoint at camp and had been taking tracks on the ride. 
  After fiddle-farting around with his GPS and getting it set right, I jumped on his bike and led the group back to camp.  At that point the two Jason's went to work to find the problem.  Long story short, they couldn't find the culprit and we all thought the valves just tightened up.  Next morning they tore into it again...

  A guy down the way had some feeler gauges so they were able to check the valves...there was zero clearance on all but one.  Now, fast-forward ahead...Jason took it to the KTM dealer and they found the real culprit: a kinked fuel line and split o-ring.  Shit...that's a pisser...Jason was camp-bound for the ride the next day...
  While we were all on the 'A' ride Kymn decided he was going to do the 'C' course...I knew I had a bad feeling about him going off alone at night be he's a big boy.  Problem was, he had second thoughts about 5 miles into the ride too...actually, I think his thoughts were "...what the hell am I doing out here...".  So he decided to turn around.  In mid-turn he lost his footing and ended up doing the splits...and the bike fell on his leg.  He felt a rip and that was game over...he came back to camp and went straight to bed.  So Kymn and Jason were both camp-bound for the ride the next day.  And yes, these are the two that put this party together...
  The next day, the four remaining riders took off for the ride on the 'A' course: 

Lining up for the start...

Bottom of first 'AA' section

 

 

Resting after the first downhill 'AA' section

    I have to say something here...at this resting area two guys came down right after us...one was on a KTM 690 (I think) and the other was on a Honda XR200.  I was listening to their plans after this first 'AA' downhill section, and it sounded like that was the last section of the 'AA' they were going to do.  As they took off, XR200 guy had the audacity to yell 'you need a bigger bike!!' as he rolled by me...two words for you dude: blow me.  This is the same guy that tried to get the hard-luck award because HIS BUDDY on the KTM broke down...and XR200 guy was all butt-hurt because KTM-guy wasn't at camp when he got back from finishing the ride...after leaving KTM-friend on the trail!  Oooohhh...he'll get his...carma, dude...carma...
  The second part of the 'AA' trail was a brand-new path cut by some fandagled-new trail-making machine.  It was extremely loose and branches were sticking out everywhere...I was freaking out due to the lost battle with a tree earlier this year.  The bottom part was the icing on the cake: tires mixed with some gnarly rocks...I didn't go down, and it made me feel a little better about my riding level when one of the sweeper crew guys did the superman on the first set of tires...

Bottom of 'Mainline'

'Mainline' maker admiring his work...and waiting for the next victim

Finally, some jungle!  Still dusty though...

   After the ride we went to the awards ceremony, where they give out trophies and prizes for things like 'youngest rider' and 'bad-luck' award and 'most points' award.  The points were accumulated by completing games along the trail...and a little luck at rolling the dice.  I took home 11th in points and got a fork brace to replace the one I recently broke.  Jason (KTM 500 guy) took home the 'bad luck' award and Tom was nice enough to give him free entry into next year's rat dog ride...
  I had to add this picture in...this guy was from Canada and had about 130k miles on this '08 KLR 650.  It had all sorts of farkles and you could really tell he's done some riding on it.  The seat is a bear-pelt!  I asked if he killed the seat himself...

Crazy Canadian KLR-guy

Da boyz

60-mile Saturday single-track ride

Mom's Bucket List: Lolo Pass Ride, July 15 & 16

  One of the many items on my Mom's bucket list was to ride over Lolo pass on a motorcycle.  I was in the area with my FJR so we took advantage of the opportunity and rode the ride.  The weather from Idaho Falls to Salmon was pretty un-eventful, except for a bit of rain we ran into just outside of Salmon.  Mom and Dad decided to pull over an put the rain gear on before it got too bad...even though I kept telling them "we're only like 1/4-mile away from Salmon...".  So we rode the last two minutes into Salmon and stopped at the gas station, and THAT'S when it started to rain!  After we filled up, we all donned our rain gear and headed to the local cafe where we had a nice lunch.
  After lunch the weather cleared and we headed to Hamilton, and then Lolo.  Since it was Sunday we found it really difficult to get a snip-o-brandy anywhere!  Turns out though, if you look in the gas stations with a bar and casino in them they'll sell you bottles!  Who'da thunk...we bought our pint and headed up to the Lolo Hot Springs.
  The 'rents had made the reservations for a cabin at the hot springs, which I was familiar with.  I stayed in a bungalo last year on the Adventure Ride 2011 with the boys, but the cabin was a step up...

Cabin outside

Full-size bunk beads (I call top bunk!)

Momma standing in the kitchenette

 ...it was definitely a step up from the bungalo.  It had a shower, toilet, sink, microwave, refrigerator, and kitchenette.  You could sleep someone on the futon too.  Mom was not impressed, though...she really was expecting something different!  You can probably see the nonplussed expression on her face in the pic above.  Not to worry, though...after a few glasses of brandy and wine and swapping some old high-school stories she was in a very happy zone!  We had dinner at the only restaurant there, which was pretty good...I can't recall what we had but I remember that it wasn't bad.  After a long sit in the hot pools I ZONKED OUT...man I was tired! 

  After a good breakfast at the same restaurant, we packed up the steeds and were on our way...

The steeds: My '06 FJR and Dad's HD Softail Deluxe

Along the way I took a few pics of the 'rents on the chop...

The 'Big Sky' country...

Pops turnin' and burnin'

I didn't take too many pictures after this...it started getting hot and it was taking a bit longer than I expected.  After eating at The Hub in Kamiah, we rode on to Orifino and up Old Highway 7 to Kendrick and then St. Maries.  We took the scenic highway 97 through Harrison and arrived home around 5:00.  Sweet ride...could have been better without the heat, but we missed all the rain and didn't have too much traffic in the two-lane highways.  And it was even better to do it with my parents and check-off that item on Mom's bucket list...

Jousted by a tree...Laird Dirt-biking - May 20, 2012

  My buddy Darcy was nice enough to invite me to go riding with him, his brother-in-law, and Nolan just between Potlatch and St. Maries off the Divide Road.  It was a great ride with amazing forest, sweet climbs, and no rocks.  Coming back on a trail, Nolan asked if anyone wanted to lead.  I was eager to stop breathing fumes and dust, so I took off.  This trail was amazing...tight single-track with quick turns and rollers accompanied by the occasional switchback.  Since most of it was downhill, I put the bike in neutral and shut if off...essentially turning it into a heavy downhill mountain bike. 
  I was having a bit too much fun...fun sometimes leads to speed.  I came into a muddy corner a bit too hot, so instead of laying it down I decided to take the turn a foot or two wide and come back on the trail.  As soon as I did, I knew I made a mistake - the sawed-off tip of a downed tree was pointing straight at me.  The trail had turned to a raised section, leaving me two options: take my chances with the tree or going even father off the trail...not knowing what else may be lurking in the forest.  Before I could make up my mind the tree decided for me.  I caught it in my left thigh and instantly felt pain, "Oh shit," I thought, "I just got skewered!".  After the bike stopped rolling I collected myself enough to look down at my thigh, fully expecting a tree to be sticking in me like a toothpick.
  To my surprise and relief, the pants and shorts had kept it from going in.  I was shaken enough I needed to sit down...about that time everyone else started rolling in asking what happened.  Figuring it was just going to be a hell of a bruise, I rode on.  A couple hours later I noticed a wet spot on my pants.  We made our way back to the rigs and I decided to hang it up for the day, and the guys wanted to see the bruise.  I lifted my shorts and this is what I found:

...yeah, ouchy.  Riding for two hours with an open  wound?  Not good...the two-hour ride back to Post Falls gave me plenty of time to think about how this could be bad: Infection, bleeding, torn muscle, ect...in any case I was screwed and the wifey was not going to be happy with me.
  Longer story short, Joyce took it amazingly well and I only needed 4 stitches.  It didn't even bruise 'cause all da blood came out da hole!  Still though, should be more careful...I gots kids now and  things called responsibilities...

2006 FJR 1300 Motorcycle Pick-up Adventure: Day 3

 
  After a long sit in the hot tub a a few advil, I awoke the next morning very refreshed and almost excited to get on the road again...until I saw the temperature...

....yes, that says 19 degrees! I couldn't believe it myself so I stopped and started the bike a few times but it really was that cold.  The great thing about the Gunnison, Colorado area is that even though it was cold enough to freeze even my hot-blooded butt to the seat, it was a very dry chill.  So really, it didn't feel much under 35 degrees once I got moving.  That's still cold, but doable.
  The plan was to continue on to Grand Junction to see grammy for a couple hours and then haul ass to Idaho Falls before dark.  So I got scootin'....unfortunately, five miles out of town the oil light came on.  I had checked the oil when it was parked and it looked good, so it made me think there might be a major problem or the bike has issues with cold weather.  I was still hundreds of miles away from my destination for the day so I decided not to take any chances and turned around in search of some oil.
  After checking the second gas station for Mobile 1 oil, the attendant directed me to the nearest Wal-Mart.  It was weird...I was the only customer in the entire store.  I have NEVER been the only customer in Wal-Mart on ANY day of the week at ANY time!  As I was checking out, the cashier says to me, "Are you having a good Easter?".  I had totally spaced the Easter holiday...no wonder nobody was around!
   I had blown about an hour before I could get on the road again, and it was close to 9:00 before I finally hit the city limits.  I was eager to put some fast miles on to make up the time I'd lost with the oil shenanigans, and wouldn't you know it...I came up hot on a city sheriff!  I don't know whether it was because it was Easter or he was in a good mood, but I think he took pity on me and turned off to let me continue on with a quicker pace.  This was greatly appreciated, because Dark Canyon proved to be the funnest,  tightest-wound bit of pavement I'd seen the entire trip!
  I was born in Grand Junction (well, Fruita actually...but close enough) and every time I go back I am surprised by how fast this town changes.  I realized I had no idea how to get to Grammy's from the south side of town...I'd always come from the North.   After some turn-by-turn directions from Mom & Dad through my cell phone stuffed in my helmet, I finally rolled into Grammy & Terry's around 10:30.  It was a good visit, with some much-needed real breakfast and coffee.  It was good to see them.  Since moving from Colorado when I was eight I really only get to see them once a year at best.  10 years prior was the last time I had visited them, which was a road trip Joyce and I took when we were still dating.
  Grammy and Terry were surprised when I said I couldn't stay, and I wish I could have but I had to get to Idaho Falls (IF) by the end of the day.  It was already 12:00 and I was running out of time.  Terry even said, "Ahhh...you'll never make it...".  Anybody who knows me will tell you I am a stubborn little shit, and I take challenges very seriously...and this sounded like a challenge!  So off I went!
  The hours on the bike and lack of sleep had started taking it's toll and I started to get a little paranoid about getting nabbed for speeding.  Every state's trooper vehicles look different, and Colorado's are the smartest I've seen.  The beige color seems to blend in with the desert/puckerbush color and make it damn near impossible to spot from a distance, or at least further than their nasty little speed-guns.  I stopped for a quick 5-hour energy shot, and within 20 minutes I was wide awake rockin' out to my tunes streakin' along I-70.  I took some pointers from Terry and decided to take highway 6/191 to Price, Utah.  This is a two-lane highway with a speed limit of 55 (I think) and would cut considerable time off the trip as long as the snow had melted off Soldier Summit.  It is on the top-10 most dangerous roads in the U.S. though, so I knew I also had to be careful.
  Unbeknownst to me, there is a 4x4 meet at Moab every Easter Sunday...and this year was no exception.  This was a blessing and a curse...a curse because there were hundreds of huge motorhomes and trucks hauling 4x4's at what seemed to be a snails pace.  It was a blessing because I was riding a 5-foot long rocket on wheels!  I stopped counting how many diesel-bellowing rigs I passed because I was just having too much fun weaving around them, sometimes three or four at a time.  Boy was I glad I was on this bike and not a V-twin cruiser...It would have taken me all day to get to Salt Lake!
  Soldier Summit in the Uinta National Forest was next.  The desert landscape with huge rock formations and beautiful hues of reds and oranges abruptly transformed to deep canyons with sweeping curvy roads accompanied with cooler air and higher elevations.  It would have been relaxing, if not for the 4x4 rigs coming from Moab...and the crazy Utah jackass drivers at the helms.  I am NOT kidding!   These huge rigs would take their sweet time at 35 mph on two-lane highway when nobody could pass, just to bellow massive dark clouds of hydrocarbons while racing each other at the passing lanes.  And there I was on my little 5-foot rocket.  It was scary.  Suddenly I felt very small and vulnerable around these huge death-traps...like a little Chihuahua playing fetch with dozens of Great Danes, Mastiffs, and Wolf Hounds.  There were a few rigs that would round corners so fast the would be almost tipping over...I had to back off in fear of getting squished like a bug!
  It didn't stop there...no...why would I think that?  Salt Lake's interstate was it's normal SNAFU self.  It seems that there is always some kind of on-going construction to make it just that much more interesting driving with the already-psychotic drivers that Utah is famous for putting on the road.  And now add the drivers that are hauling barely-legal rigs back from Moab, which they probably do twice a year.  Nope...I am really not a fan of Utah drivers...or Salt Lake City.  If there was a fast way around it I would have taken it.  By far, the stint beginning at Soldier Summit and ending at the north border of Salt Lake City was the most stressful part of the trip.  I cannot stress how much I hated it...avoid Salt Lake City at all costs!  I would have thought Easter Sunday would have been a little better, but I don't think they celebrate that holiday...
  Really, the rest of the ride was uneventful...I made up some good time in north Utah and southeast Idaho.  I exited Pocatello around dusk and only had to ride in the dark the last 40 miles or so to IF.  It was around 9:00 when I finally rolled into my parent's place and was delighted to see my kiddos and wifey again.  I was so tired I wasn't even hungry, but forced myself to eat once I realized wine on an empty stomach made me noxious.  You'd think I would know better...but I slept like a baby that night!  Here's a track of the last day:

  Looking back, it was crazier than it felt while I was planning it.  Buying a bike un-seen and riding it back halfway across the nation alone is not something I'll be doing again...but I've done it!  I feel like I used up a lot of karma on this escapade and realize just how many times something really bad could have happened.  But I now know my limits better than most other riders, and know what it takes to ride long distances.  There are already some rider-comfort modifications planned for the FJR, but it is an amazing machine just the way it is too.
  This is the end of the adventure...the next day I loaded the bike onto the trailer behind the CRV for the drive home.  I would show you a photo of just how ridiculously-loaded the car was, but it appears the wifey deleted to photo.  To give you an idea though, we hauled the FJR and a CRF100 on the trailer behind the CRV with two kids and all the crap that goes along with traveling with them.  I'm certain we were over the load rating of the car.  I was amazed, not only with the CRV but my awesome packing skills!  I will note...we only got 12-16 mpg on the way home.  We usually average 24 on the highway!  Cheers!  

2006 FJR 1300 Motorcycle Pick-up Adventure: Day 2

Bzzzz!   Bzzzzz!   Bzzzzz!   ugh!  4:00 AM wake-up call and boy I was groggy...until I remembered what I was doing.  I was on the adventure of a lifetime, and today was the biggest day!  I had over 1000 miles to put behind me today and an 'Iron-Butt' award to claim.  For those of you that don't know what the Iron-Butt award is, here's a link: http://www.ironbutt.com/rides/ss1000.htm
  A quick shower and bottle of water later and I was out the door.  I also got the wise idea that I should cut the fingers off my $20 neoprene gloves (for riding in rain) and slip them on the handlebars for cushion. 

 Did I mention it was 4:00 AM and I was feeling a little rummy?  Stupid.  And come to find out the fingers were too small to fit on the handlebars!  I hope it doesn't rain...and yes, that's the bed cover...it's Motel 6, man!
  After fiddle-farting around for 20 minutes trying to attach the saddle-bags in the dark for the first time, I headed to the nearest gas station to begin the day with some breakfast....

...and lunch...and dinner...yep, it was going to be the day for minimal stops and sustenance.  I wasn't dumb though, I had plenty of water in my camel pack, so at least I'd be well-hydrated which is the most important.  Here's a pic of the chop ready for the day...

  I love riding in the morning, especially when there's a full moon.  It's like riding in the daylight!  Plus, nobody is on the road.  I made it to Dallas about 7:00 and I didn't make any wrong turns!  I know, I was impressed too.  Aside from 5 miles of stop-and-go traffic caused by construction it went pretty quick.  Now I was really looking forward to some open-country flat-as-a-fritter (FAAF) riding where I could really open up the bike and put some time on.  I only had maybe 100 miles of open (and fast) riding until the weather turned to crap.  Clouds from the north looked like the type twisters were born in and I was riding in 60+ mph gusting side-winds.  Anybody that has ridden in these conditions will tell you it's damn scary.  I had to make sure there was nobody in the next lane in case the gust blew me out of my lane.  The only thing I could do was lower the windshield and get in the tightest tuck as I could.  Passing truckers was a trick too...it took a couple times to figure it out but I finally got it.  I had to ease up on them in the outside lane and when the front-end started shaking from the turbulence that's when I rolled on the power...it straightened the bike right out.  Once I got to the front of the truck I slowed down enough to just ease on by, which made the wind 'hit' much more manageable.
  Once I made it to Childress the wind had died a bit and I was back into FAFF fast riding again.  I won't go into detail just how fast it was but the bike just purrs at ANY speed, so the top speed really just depends how big your stones are.  My stones are somewhat big, but I was a little concerned about a speeding ticket, or worse, Texas jail...and explaining to the wife that I owed $xxx in tickets or that she would have to bail me out.  Yep, these weren't in my top-10 list of things to do on this trip...so I kept the time spent in triple digits to a minimum...
  There is one main speed trap, called Dalhart, that my parents warned me about.  Good thing too 'cause they almost got me going in to town.  I was doing a bit over the speed limit and noticed I was closing on the car in the other lane pretty quick.  As I got closer..."oh, crap!  It's da fuzz!  ...and my what a nice wide-brimmed hat he be wearin'!".  I slowed to the speed limit...and still passed him as if he were standing still.  I thought for sure he'd nabbed me, but he didn't do a thing.  When I stopped in Dalhart to fill up I watched three cops pass and look at me.  Primed for what was to come, I made dang sure I went the speed limit and no more...especially since one of 'em had snuck up behind me and was following me the whole way to the city border!  I don't know where he came from, but I think they get plenty of practice at cat-and-mouse.  After I shook the bogey, I was back to FAFF riding...and boy I was flying!  Making record time the New Mexico border.  To give you an idea of the difference between the two, here's some pics:

 Yeah, that's Texas...

 ...and this is New Mexico.  Oh, and that hump in the distance is their version of 'mountains'.  I got a chuckle out of that...

 ...and this is where I lost all the time I gained with the FAAF riding through Texas.  This is a 50 mph 'construction zone' that was about 40-50 miles long.  By about mile 10 I was getting pissed...no cops, no computerized speed limit sign-thingeys, and probably no drones checking anybody's speed.  It was KILLING me!  As I left New Mexico, I was so mad I gave it the 'ol bird and zoomed on to Colorado...
  And that's where this day just got amazing.  After a quick stop in Walsenburg, I took highway 69 to Salida and then Monarch Pass.  Check out this road and the views of the Rockys outside Walsenburg...

  Aside from some HUGE deer (we don't get too many Mulies where I live), there was nothing to worry about...except coming nightfall.  And boy it got dark quick.  I got to Salida and it was already WAY dark, but something in my head was telling me 'gotta get to grannys!'.  Through Salida and up the pass I went, which was probably not the smartest thing to do.  The temperature plummeted to a frigid 28 degrees, there was fallen rock the size of babies heads everywhere, and deer were out in force.  That was the scariest 40 miles I've ever ridden.  I was frozen, scared, and hungry...it was 10:00 PM.
  I stopped at the first gas station in Gunnison, went inside and just stood there for a good two minutes soaking up the heat.  I'm pretty sure I scared the jeebers out of the attendant...she didn't notice me come in until she stopped texting in her seat behind the counter and decided to do something in the back of the store.  I'm sure it freaked her out to see a biker in full gear with his helmet still on inside the store.  She was certainly puzzled..."Can I help you?" she asked.  "Just don't turn off the heat." I replied.  I could tell she was still freaked by the 'cycle-robber' that was standing in her store, so I told her what I was doing.  "Wow", she replied..."would you like some hot coffee or cocoa?".  She was super nice and seemed to warm up a bit now that I was just a freezing dude and not a cycle-robber.
  She said I was a good two hours away from Grand Junction, and Black Canyon is even more dangerous than Monarch Pass...and that she really would not like to see me in the obituaries the next day.  So that's where my day ended.  I got a room at the local Days Inn and called grammy with the bad news..."I'm not gonna make it tonight, Grandma...I'll see you tomorrow morning.".  I was 30 miles short of the Iron-Butt award, too tired to be hungry, and my eyes were so dry everything was getting hazy.  What a day...and I have to get up tomorrow and do it all over again.  This is starting to get old...
   Day 2 track: