OK, this is going to be a short one:
We awakened this a.m to find that Farley did not lose any of its luster in the pale morning light. Hit the road a rarin' to go, and then almost immediately pulled over to let a lightening storm go by. Rain is a bit uncomfortable for Greg, as he has no windshield, and no wipers on his helmet, but rain we can tolerate; Lightening is another thing. And this black storm was forking right and left. So we pulled over for a few minutes, got back on the road, and promptly caught up with the storm. This time we moved on until we found a rest stop up the road a mile or so, where several other riders from SLCity were pulled over for the same reason. Turns out I had met them two days earlier when they were riding through Fort Bragg, and I stopped to chat. (Bikers are an inherently friendly bunch!) This time we visited for about a half an hour and then hit the road again. They were faster than we, and soon pulled out of sight, but we caught up with them (and the storm) half an hour later at a gas stop where they had decided to eat an early lunch and give the storm more time to move out. We, made of hardier stock, decided to keep going, and didn't pull over for lunch for at least another ten minutes. By lunch's end, which took about an hour, the storm had in fact moved on through, and the rest of the day was uneventful But we lost at least a couple of hours due to the storm, and got into Boise late--about 7:30 MST. Tired and fed, I'm off to bed. Hopefully, there will be more exciting reports tomorrow, as we head off to Jackson Hole!
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Breaking News!
I guess it is not good journalism to say there is not much to report. I should say: "Breaking News!! Nevada is Hot! And Dry! And about as desolate as anywhere can be.
What on god's green earth caused people to stop here and say: "Hmmm, this looks like a fine place to settle down!"? We are in Fernley Nevada, pop. unknown, but large enough to host a Wal-Mart. It is right across the street from the motel, and kitty-corner to the mandatory casino. Fernley (wasn't there a talk show spoof about "Fernley Tonight!"?) is 352 miles from Caspar as the motorcycle rolls. It is also substantially uphill. Fernley exists, as near as can be told from visual observation and a brief flirtation with Ashley at the front desk, to support mining endeavors (looks like they're mining rocks) and major distribution centers. If you order something online and they promise to deliver in three days, who knows? It might just come from Fernley NV!
This is NOT apparently what happened to the new GPS I ordered. My old trusty GPS is not working. I don't know what is wrong with it. So I ordered one just like it that was supposed to be delivered last week, and is in fact arriving (supposedly) this weekend, when--may I add- - I will likely be wandering all over this forsaken desert as lost as I usually get without a working gps. I have the old one with me, should it suddenly decide to spring to life. But I ain't bettin' on it. That's probably the only thing Fernleyites don't bet on either. As you can see from this photo of central Fernely, what they should be doing is betting their money on the next practicable way out of town:
In all honesty, I could have gone to greater effort than opening my motel door and snapping a picture, but I think I got Fernley's good side here. I certainly have captured its spirit.
Tomorrow we're off to Boise Idaho, a place I have never been and where I hope to connect with my son-in-law's parents (what relationship is that?) Then we jump into the heart of the trip, and head off for Jackson Hole, Casper WY and Deadwood, SD. Keep those cards and letters coming. I am, as always, your humble correspondent, writing tonight from the wilds of Nevada.
What on god's green earth caused people to stop here and say: "Hmmm, this looks like a fine place to settle down!"? We are in Fernley Nevada, pop. unknown, but large enough to host a Wal-Mart. It is right across the street from the motel, and kitty-corner to the mandatory casino. Fernley (wasn't there a talk show spoof about "Fernley Tonight!"?) is 352 miles from Caspar as the motorcycle rolls. It is also substantially uphill. Fernley exists, as near as can be told from visual observation and a brief flirtation with Ashley at the front desk, to support mining endeavors (looks like they're mining rocks) and major distribution centers. If you order something online and they promise to deliver in three days, who knows? It might just come from Fernley NV!
This is NOT apparently what happened to the new GPS I ordered. My old trusty GPS is not working. I don't know what is wrong with it. So I ordered one just like it that was supposed to be delivered last week, and is in fact arriving (supposedly) this weekend, when--may I add- - I will likely be wandering all over this forsaken desert as lost as I usually get without a working gps. I have the old one with me, should it suddenly decide to spring to life. But I ain't bettin' on it. That's probably the only thing Fernleyites don't bet on either. As you can see from this photo of central Fernely, what they should be doing is betting their money on the next practicable way out of town:
Tomorrow we're off to Boise Idaho, a place I have never been and where I hope to connect with my son-in-law's parents (what relationship is that?) Then we jump into the heart of the trip, and head off for Jackson Hole, Casper WY and Deadwood, SD. Keep those cards and letters coming. I am, as always, your humble correspondent, writing tonight from the wilds of Nevada.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Bike's even waxed! Now I gotta get the energy to rub it off!
Got a bit of a reprieve from kitchen duties today as 1) the electrician had taken over the space to finish the job and 2) a California Sea Lion needed rescuing. Unfortunately, neither one made it. But at least it got me out. Tested out the new oil and it seems to be staying inside the bike. Got the wax out and put it on. Now have to take it off. Seems like we're almost ready to go. Greg says the Indian is almost ready for a test start, but I notice he's also dusted off the BMW just in case.
Here is our planned route. I don't usually stick to any planned route, although I like to have a general idea of where and when I'm moseying along. We might stick close to this one though, as it has been planned not only to get us there, but to pass through places that are worth seeing in their own right. If anyone knows of any 'must see's' along this route, give us a holler. Here's the route:
Gotta go rub some wax and make sure all systems are a 'go'. Bye.
Here is our planned route. I don't usually stick to any planned route, although I like to have a general idea of where and when I'm moseying along. We might stick close to this one though, as it has been planned not only to get us there, but to pass through places that are worth seeing in their own right. If anyone knows of any 'must see's' along this route, give us a holler. Here's the route:
Gotta go rub some wax and make sure all systems are a 'go'. Bye.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Now feeling the need to get ready....
I was motivated today to begin the process of getting ready when I got an email from Greg announcing that between now and our planned departure on Thursday (that's one, two three --count 'em -- days from now) he was planning on pulling the engine on his Indian and installing new heads and head bolts. So I went ahead and packed. I had to do something. Tomorrow the oil gets changed and riding equipment gets checked over. Sometime between now and Thursday I've also got to install a new headset in my helmet. It is Greg's, and he wants to experiment with bike-to-bike communication on the trip. Hope he likes my singing. With showers few and far between, and no-one on board to talk to, singing as I ride along has become part of the routine. I don't think he is yet aware of this.
Also between now and Thursday, if my original schedule is to be maintained, I am supposed to build and install new kitchen cabinets. Right now half the kitchen is still down to exposed studs, and the other half has been re-sheathed in plywood and awaits new cabinets. The electrician is supposed to show up tomorrow to finish re-electrifying us, and I have to re-plumb in the temporary sink so Elizabeth has running water (indoors) during my trip.
Somehow, I don't think the cabinets are going to get done before Deadwood. Oh, for the life of the open road! Just me, the elements, good manly companions, and just this wee little bit of guilt gnawing at me that my wife will be living in the middle of domestic chaos during my two weeks of fantasy camp. But she's a good sport, and I am confident that all will turn out well.....
I trust you are feeling the same? More tomorrow.
Also between now and Thursday, if my original schedule is to be maintained, I am supposed to build and install new kitchen cabinets. Right now half the kitchen is still down to exposed studs, and the other half has been re-sheathed in plywood and awaits new cabinets. The electrician is supposed to show up tomorrow to finish re-electrifying us, and I have to re-plumb in the temporary sink so Elizabeth has running water (indoors) during my trip.
Somehow, I don't think the cabinets are going to get done before Deadwood. Oh, for the life of the open road! Just me, the elements, good manly companions, and just this wee little bit of guilt gnawing at me that my wife will be living in the middle of domestic chaos during my two weeks of fantasy camp. But she's a good sport, and I am confident that all will turn out well.....
I trust you are feeling the same? More tomorrow.
Friday, August 24, 2012
The 2012 High Plains Gypsy Tour-- Deadwood SD, Lookout!
Hard to believe its been almost a year since my NOLa trip of October 2011. But the bike's on the stand and new oil's in the can, and I'm about ready to get ready to go. I'm excited about my new trip, but its sorta hard to tell. I'm not getting blase about my touring adventures, but maybe I am feeling a bit more seasoned. Only a week to go before blast off, and neither the bike nor sock supply has been washed. I haven't even packed!
But, truth will out, all the planning for this one was completed months ago, including motel reservations at eleven way-points coming and going: no camping this trip. In a departure from my usual solo ventures, I will be traveling with an older gentleman this time, and I believe he feels the old joints and other wear-parts can no longer handle the rigors of a true Gypsy Tour---camping along the way. Deferring respectfully to the needs of an aging companion, I acquiesced: 'age before beauty' as they say. I will return next year to the land of the Kumbaya Singers.
Having managed to give you a rough introduction to my traveling companion, let me introduce you to the probable real cause of the need for a soft bed at night: This is Greg and his 1947 Indian Chief, which he plans to ride all of the 3,000 + miles we will cover this trip.
Here is a closer shot of the good looking half of this rare duo. Except for certain machining that was required, this bike was restored by Greg working pretty much alone, except for those occasions when it proved necessary for me to wander over with a cup of java to supervise.
And, finally, this is Greg himself -- a picture perfect bike model! Note: these two bikes that will be traveling together span 60+ years of American motorcycling history.
The Trip As I was called upon on several occasions to put my coffee down and help Greg lift the engine into place, I therefore take some pride of ownership into our road adventure. But what I am really looking forward to is watching this bike being ridden 3,000+ miles from the comfort of my 2011 Road Glide. I even got a new seat this year--a beautiful Mustang Two Up Touring seat--to make the viewing all that more comfy. (Pics of new seat will have to come....its dark outside right now.)
The roads I will be following and observing my good friend on are those which lead to Deadwood South Dakota. Home of the Black Hills National Forest and the Badlands National Park, South Dakota is an area of the country heretofore glimpsed by me only in my dreams, and is the site of this seasons's Road King Riders and Gliders High Plains Gypsy Tour. And Deadwood--most importantly to a serious history buff and an incurable romantic--is famous for, inter alia, being where Wild Bill Hickok was shot while sitting at a poker table holding "aces and eights", now known eponymously as the "Dead Man's Hand". (I understand the dispute which led to this shooting was not, as one might imagine, over cards: as our French friends say -- cherchez la femme!)
Greg and I take off next Thursday, August 30, and head off across Northern California to the Northeast and Western Nevada. From there we will leave the Interstate slab and head up to Boisie ID, cut over across Yellowstone National Park and environs, and arrive in Deadwood on Labor Day. There we will meet up with approximately 35 fellow Road King/Glide riders from the Road King Forum who are meeting there for a week of riding and convivial biker talk. Well, I say convivial in the hope that we can refrain from political discussions. (Probably a vain hope in an election year, wouldn't you say?) As one of the few token liberals to be admitted to this august (if largely ill informed and misguided) group, I look forward to this with some trepidation. Greg will also take advantage of the chance to attend a nearby Antique Motorcycles convention of some sort. Although I confess to being a thing of beauty when paired with my motorcycle, I suspect that the 1947 Indian Chief will be the constant center of attention on this trip. Ah well, fame, riches and beauty are all fleeting: at least I will have the comfort of a lambskin seat cover and shock absorbers! More to come as preparations progress! See y'all in Deadwood!
But, truth will out, all the planning for this one was completed months ago, including motel reservations at eleven way-points coming and going: no camping this trip. In a departure from my usual solo ventures, I will be traveling with an older gentleman this time, and I believe he feels the old joints and other wear-parts can no longer handle the rigors of a true Gypsy Tour---camping along the way. Deferring respectfully to the needs of an aging companion, I acquiesced: 'age before beauty' as they say. I will return next year to the land of the Kumbaya Singers.
Having managed to give you a rough introduction to my traveling companion, let me introduce you to the probable real cause of the need for a soft bed at night: This is Greg and his 1947 Indian Chief, which he plans to ride all of the 3,000 + miles we will cover this trip.
Here is a closer shot of the good looking half of this rare duo. Except for certain machining that was required, this bike was restored by Greg working pretty much alone, except for those occasions when it proved necessary for me to wander over with a cup of java to supervise.
And, finally, this is Greg himself -- a picture perfect bike model! Note: these two bikes that will be traveling together span 60+ years of American motorcycling history.
The Trip As I was called upon on several occasions to put my coffee down and help Greg lift the engine into place, I therefore take some pride of ownership into our road adventure. But what I am really looking forward to is watching this bike being ridden 3,000+ miles from the comfort of my 2011 Road Glide. I even got a new seat this year--a beautiful Mustang Two Up Touring seat--to make the viewing all that more comfy. (Pics of new seat will have to come....its dark outside right now.)
The roads I will be following and observing my good friend on are those which lead to Deadwood South Dakota. Home of the Black Hills National Forest and the Badlands National Park, South Dakota is an area of the country heretofore glimpsed by me only in my dreams, and is the site of this seasons's Road King Riders and Gliders High Plains Gypsy Tour. And Deadwood--most importantly to a serious history buff and an incurable romantic--is famous for, inter alia, being where Wild Bill Hickok was shot while sitting at a poker table holding "aces and eights", now known eponymously as the "Dead Man's Hand". (I understand the dispute which led to this shooting was not, as one might imagine, over cards: as our French friends say -- cherchez la femme!)
Greg and I take off next Thursday, August 30, and head off across Northern California to the Northeast and Western Nevada. From there we will leave the Interstate slab and head up to Boisie ID, cut over across Yellowstone National Park and environs, and arrive in Deadwood on Labor Day. There we will meet up with approximately 35 fellow Road King/Glide riders from the Road King Forum who are meeting there for a week of riding and convivial biker talk. Well, I say convivial in the hope that we can refrain from political discussions. (Probably a vain hope in an election year, wouldn't you say?) As one of the few token liberals to be admitted to this august (if largely ill informed and misguided) group, I look forward to this with some trepidation. Greg will also take advantage of the chance to attend a nearby Antique Motorcycles convention of some sort. Although I confess to being a thing of beauty when paired with my motorcycle, I suspect that the 1947 Indian Chief will be the constant center of attention on this trip. Ah well, fame, riches and beauty are all fleeting: at least I will have the comfort of a lambskin seat cover and shock absorbers! More to come as preparations progress! See y'all in Deadwood!
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