Thursday, 7 May 2015
Part IX - The End Of The Road.
May 6/15
There's no need to rush today as we're only about two hundred miles from home so we putter about, go for the complimentary breakfast in the dining room upstairs which has a particularly good spread to tempt us. Fuel up, why is it we always come into town the night before low on gas, and we're making tracks.
Next up Stevens Pass and look out scout! The clouds have rolled in, the temperature plummets to four, yup you read that right, four degrees Celsius, that's thirty-nine for the metrically challenged and the rain drops are looking a lot like wet snow. Yikes! We're treading very carefully hoping the road doesn't turn into a skating rink as we gingerly work our way down the mountain and out of the pass.
Once in lower elevation the temperature shoots back up to eleven degrees, however; the clouds stay with us for the next hour or so but we hunker down and keep on keeping on.
A quick right turn and we're on Hwy 9, right where we started from ten or so days ago. It's a nice easy fifty miles or thereabout to Sumas, WA and the border crossing back into Canada. The border was a snap, thanks to NEXUS and we're through in a matter of seconds. Looking at the clock it's nearly 4:00 PM and we have one more goal on the horizon. Lori's bike is still dripping some oil from the fall it took way back in Utah. This annoyance had disappeared for a while but has since reappeared and we want to get it into our doctor in Langley and get it seen to pronto. We make a quick pit-stop at home, dump the luggage and roar off to Holeshot Motorsports to drop the bike off. We're well known here so there's lots of friendly faces to greet us. They wheel the bike in, Lori hops on the back of mine and we shoot home to unpack.
We're putting my bike under it's cover and in traditional mantra it's "We did it. Again"
Daily distance
222.5 miles
357 kms
EPILOGUE
The intention of this tour was there was no particular destination, it was the road to nowhere. I feel we accomplished this as we would end a day and have no idea where we were going to go the next day. We had a loose general direction of travel depending on available time but each day was a mystery and this made it all the more fun. Having Lori's input added a whole new point of view and I welcomed the freshness she brought to the table.
I always like to end these stories with a brief synopsis of the trip, 'the best of', 'the worst of'' etc. so here goes.
Total Distance Travelled Through Six States:
2858.2 miles
4599.8 kms
Best moment of the trip:
There are a few moments worth noting, one was after the 'incident' in Utah when we determined Lori was not badly hurt and both she and the bike could carry on. Another was stumbling across Hwy 821 and riding this beautiful stretch of road through Yakima Canyon. Add to that highways 21 and 75 through Boise National Forest. Spectacular!
Worst moment of the trip:
The 'incident' when Lori fell and we were in the middle of nowhere in Western Utah. A very scary feeling seeing her down with the bike on top of her.
Best meal:
Frankly I thought the best meal we had was the night we got home and went to the Greek restaurant a block away from home, however; on the road I'd have to say it was lunch at the deli in Eureka, Nevada. Staffed by Amish girls and run by a fast talking guy from Philadelphia. Great lunch.
Worst meal:
We have a split here. Lori didn't particularly like the steak she had in Leavenworth...fatty and she claims there was mold in her potato and her beans tasted like they were canned. Ugh!. For me it was the Mexican place in Ontario, Oregon....muy mal gusto!
Highlights:
For Lori it was making it through the wind tunnel and coming out the other end. The highlight for me was ten days of exciting motorcycle touring with my wife, best pal and soul mate. The trips just keep getting better. Lori agrees and says, "Don't underestimate the value of riding with the right partner." Awww shucks!.
This has been the third blog I've done in the 'Motorcycle Odyssey' series and hopefully there will be more. If you're interested in any of the previous travel-blogs these links will take you there.
Coast To Coast: A Motorcycle Odyssey
http://steve-buckton.blogspot.ca
A five week ride on my own from BC to the Atlantic Ocean and back.
Desert Honeymoon: A Motorcycle Odyssey
http://steve-buckton2.blogspot.ca
Lori joins the team for this trip as we go on our honeymoon ride.
Olympic Circle: A Motorcyle Odyssey
http://steve-buckton4.blogspot.ca
This story chronicles a four day trip out to the Washington's Olympic Peninsula.
Until the next time. Ride safe. See you soon!
Steve Buckton
Langley, B.C.
Part VIII - Canyons, Mountains and the Howling Wind.
May 5/15
Today's plan calls for a shorter ride, roughly three hundred miles. We don't have a lot of time left and wanted to spend at least one more night away while we work our way homeward. Out come the maps, both Google and hard copy and I have a couple of cups of coffee going over the possibilities. Looking carefully at an exploded view on Google maps I saw a road, Washington Hwy 821 that looked very interesting, all turns and twists in some unique landscapes. This road will take us in our intended direction as well as being one I'd never ridden before.
Time's a-wasting so we go through the routine of packing, one last cup of coffee, oh and better stop for fuel. We rejoin Hwy 97 at the north end of Bend, passing through Redmond. Driving through Madras I spot a motorcycle shop on the west side and bee-line into the parking lot. Both Lori and I have been having hair trouble, blowing hair in the face while riding and it's very irritating. Lori figures a couple of skullcaps will do the trick so I had been keeping my eyes peeled for such a shop and lo and behold here's one, Northwest Cycle, with the desired caps hanging in the front window. Now how serendipitous is that?
Inside we meet Sam, working on the bench and we get to yakking motorcycle touring and air-guns which he also sells. Bikes and guns...one stop shopping, you gotta love that! Sam's' a friendly guy and today is his birthday and his wife's is tomorrow, the 6th. Well the 6th just happens to be Lori's birthday too so everybody's feeling good. Next time you're in Madras, Oregon, stop by and say howdy.
May 5/15
Today's plan calls for a shorter ride, roughly three hundred miles. We don't have a lot of time left and wanted to spend at least one more night away while we work our way homeward. Out come the maps, both Google and hard copy and I have a couple of cups of coffee going over the possibilities. Looking carefully at an exploded view on Google maps I saw a road, Washington Hwy 821 that looked very interesting, all turns and twists in some unique landscapes. This road will take us in our intended direction as well as being one I'd never ridden before.
Time's a-wasting so we go through the routine of packing, one last cup of coffee, oh and better stop for fuel. We rejoin Hwy 97 at the north end of Bend, passing through Redmond. Driving through Madras I spot a motorcycle shop on the west side and bee-line into the parking lot. Both Lori and I have been having hair trouble, blowing hair in the face while riding and it's very irritating. Lori figures a couple of skullcaps will do the trick so I had been keeping my eyes peeled for such a shop and lo and behold here's one, Northwest Cycle, with the desired caps hanging in the front window. Now how serendipitous is that?
Inside we meet Sam, working on the bench and we get to yakking motorcycle touring and air-guns which he also sells. Bikes and guns...one stop shopping, you gotta love that! Sam's' a friendly guy and today is his birthday and his wife's is tomorrow, the 6th. Well the 6th just happens to be Lori's birthday too so everybody's feeling good. Next time you're in Madras, Oregon, stop by and say howdy.
Northwest Cycles
We grab a couple of caps and head out continuing north on 97 passing little hamlets and crossroad communities when we come to the junction of OR-218 and Shaniko where I wheel off onto a side street and pull up. Over the past fifteen years or so I've passed this little village always saying that one of these days I'm going to stop and have a poke around.
Shaniko is a couple of short streets lined with some old buildings dating back to the late 1800's when it was a camp for prospectors on the gold rush trail. The railway came later and the town made it's name for the sheep ranching that predominated the area. Dubbed "The Wool Capital of the World" the town boasted a large wool warehouse, post office, train station and had a population of 500 people at it's peak in 1910. In 1911 the railway diverted the trains via another line and things started dying down for this bustling little town. Today the population is 36 and I think we same most of them when we were there. The town still operates a general store, ice cream parlor and café, a couple of seasonal business and the rest is historical buildings, a walking museum if you like. We walked the town stopping at the open buildings including a barn full of old cars, the jail and the general store. One piece of excitement was a truck with an oversized load experiencing permit problems from the Department of Transport. The convoy included the truck with part of the base structure of a fracking plant destined for somewhere in Alberta, escort vehicles and other interested parties. Evidently the company had maddened the DOT who pulled their oversize permit, shutting the entire parade down. In total there was maybe ten people and four or five other vehicles all at a standstill waiting for someone in the DOT to smooth out their feathers and sign off on the new permit. Shankia was very interesting and I'm glad we took the time to stop. Hwy 97 at OR-218...check it out.
Shut down and waiting.
A little store.
The local lock-up.
Lori checking out the antique handcuffs.
The hotel in the heart of downtown.
One of the back streets in Shanika
A little bit of everything in here.
The barn was full of old vehicles.
Let the winds begin! Those windmills on the horizon aren't for show.
Time to go and we wheel north heading for the Washington state line. I've been in this part of the country a lot over the years and I know it's going to be windy. Today was no exception and the winds were brutal; headwinds, crosswinds, it didn't matter it was always there and came from every direction. The state line is the Columbia River and either side are the growing number of windmill farms. I was last here about a year ago and the number of windmills has multiplied significantly sine then and appears to have no end in sight. Unless you're in a sailboat, wind has a way of infuriating most people and I'm no exception. It rankles me to no end, the continual blowing, dust in my eyes and beard, buffeting my motorcycle all over the road and the added swerving blasts from the oncoming trucks. Grrrr!.
The state line, abridge over the Columbia River
Windmills on the Washington side of the river. The wind was howling!
We descend down into the river valley, escaping the winds for a few minutes and cross over into Washington amid road construction, climb back up the other side of the valley and get blown apart all over again. The town of Goldendale is about ten miles up the road and we need fuel so it's lay low on the tank and throttle on because I know once past town we will be in a forested area and should get some abatement from the winds. Goldendale is interesting as there is an observatory there open to the public. I've been there a few times and it is very interesting. I've had the experience of seeing some wonderful phenomena including Nebula, binary stars, the moon, Venus and Saturn. Fascinating! Visitation is by donation and I believe it is open most nights except Sunday and Monday. We fuel up and gobble down some leftover chicken wings from the night before and boot it out of there.
Chef Lori digging out the leftover wings for a quick nosh in the parking lot. Goldendale, WA.
Back on the road riding north through some lovely pine forests we're eating up the miles and fast approaching Yakima where we'll be taking the diversion to Hwy 821. I get a little turned around in Yakima and have to stop and reprogram the GPS. Once back on track we locate Hwy 823 leading us to 821 and well....surprise! Before today I had no idea of the road's existence; merely a thin squiggle on the map. This is the road following the Yakima River through Yakima Canyon Now I have heard of this place but hadn't given it much thought and here I am stumbling into it on a gloriously sunny afternoon! What can I say about Yakima Canyon other that it is absolutely gorgeous with high canyon walls funneling the river, two-lane road and a railway track through it. Several state parks are situated along the river so the camping opportunities abound. So to all my motorcycle pals and anyone else for that matter give this road a try; it's not a long stretch, maybe 35 miles, snaking it's way from Yakima to Ellendale . The twisties are everywhere as well as some straights for getting by any traffic. One cautionary note, the posted speed limit is 45 although you can get away with 55 to 60 in stretches....rider beware.
Yakima Canyon...fantastic!
Once out of the canyon the landscape opens up to farmland and our friend the wind is back, this time with a vengeance. We have to take I-90 West for about three miles and it is blowing a strong headwind and the road is teeming with trucks all crisscrossing lanes and adding to the turbulence. Off the highway it is still howling a gale until we get up into the mountains and trees where there is some shelter. As we climb the sun dips behind the mountains and the temperature starts to drop. I'm wearing fingerless gloves but we only have fifty miles to go so I'll suck it up and tough it out, even though I have some nice yummy Thinsulate gloves stashed in my day pack. I flip on the heated grips and it takes the edge off. This stretch of 97, yeah, we're back on Hwy 97, is a wonderful ride with long sweeping turns, mountain views and very little traffic. The temperature goes down to eight degrees C as we gain elevation and before too long we join Hwy 2 West and ride the last few miles to Leavenworth, our bed for the night. We roll into town, avoiding two large deer bounding across the road in front of us and park in front of the Fairbridge Inn. The guy at the desk is a chatterbox so it takes us some time to check in and get organized. It turns out he's from Richmond, B.C. and since both Lori and I work in Richmond and I lived in the Steveston are for some years he feels it's family reunion time and bends our ears off. I'm making exit noises and the guy is till jabbering as I'm backing out the door, joining the Wahine who had long since made her escape.
Hunger time so we dart across the road to Kristalls Restaurant where we order salads, steak for Her Ladyship and prime rib for me, veggies and baked potatoes. Now anyone who has travelled in central Washington has been to Leavenworth as it is a major tourist destination. The architecture and theme of the town is German Bavaria and people flock here to shop the stores, cheese factory and wineries which are everywhere. The restaurants cater to German cuisine so there are lots of sausages and beer for the tasting. It's early in the season so the town is fairly quiet but we have fun walking along the street chatting to each other in overly emoted German accents.
We retire to our room, which is the smallest room we've had on this trip and of course the 'small room' jokes come pouring out..."My room is so small the mice are round-shouldered", "My room is so small I have to go outside to change my mind.", "My room is sooo small I put the key in the lock and broke the bathroom window." You get the idea...funny at the time.
A little TV, some computer work and its Gute Nacht for us.
Distance for the day
337.8 miles
543.6 kms.
Yawn....
Steve
Leavenworth, WA
Tuesday, 5 May 2015
Part VII - Bye, Bye Reno.
May, 4/15
After two and a half days of rest and ice Lori's foot, albeit still purple, can accept a boot so we're off to the races.This was time well spent ensuring she was feeling up to riding. What a trooper!
Thanks to an early night we're checked-out and rolling before 7:30 AM which is early for us. A quick fuel stop and we hit 395-north and roll it on. The day is fresh and sunny and it's a pleasure to feel the early morning air on my face.
It's a quick run up the hill from Reno and we're soon at the Califorina state line and passing through the agriculture road check where we get waved through with a big smile from the inspection officer. The hills are brown and dotted with cattle and I like to get their attention with a blast from my horn as I cruise by them. We stop for a quick photo-op at the 'shoe-tree' on the side of the road. These quaintly adorned trees have been popping up a lot in the last few years. There used to be this one very big one on Hwy 50 in Nevada between Fallon and Middlegate Station but it isn't there anymore...must have fallen down under the weight of the all the shoes.
Susanville is where we leave 395 and head north-east on Hwy 139 passing John on his bicyle and we exchange waves. This is a wonderfully scenic road which we actually covered last year in Desert Honeymoon although we were going in the opposite direction. Lots of ranchland, hills, pine forests and dry lake beds and best of all no traffic in fact the road was pretty much deserted. We stay with 139 which become 299 and we continue north-east for a while rejoining 395 in the town of Alturas where we stop for fuel.
It's 395 north, crossing the Oregon state line and into Lakeview which is a misnomer to say the least as all the lakes around there are dry and deserted. The town is decaying and it's a sorry sight with all the closed and boarded up stores, restaurants and gas stations. There is a prison on the outskirts of town so I can only assume this is what keeps what's left of the local economy grinding along. Once out of Lakeview it's ride north to the junction of Hwy 31 where we swing north-west. This stretch of road is hot, dry and frankly kind of boring. It looked interesting on the map with all the 'lakes' along the way but once again the lakes are dried up and it's black flies, dust devils and gravel trucks competing to blow us off the road. While riding along I notice another motorcycle coming up behind Lori at a quick pace. The headlight gets brighter in my rear-view mirrors and when it gets close enough I recognize the gold coloured forks of a Suzuki V-Strom, the same as ours. The rider comes up on our left to pass us and he pause for a second by Lori and then passes me with a quick pause and a friendly wave and he roars off out of sight. Not too far ahead is the town of Paisley and coming into 'town' I spot the 'Strom parked on the side on the road so we pull up to say hello. Second surprise is this bike has BC plates too. It turns out Bill, the rider, is from Kelowna and on his way home from a trip down to Yosemite. We talk V-Stroms for a while and Bill goes for a walk while Lori and I take off. Once again you meet all kinds of people when you take the time to meet them!
Until then.......
Steve
Bend, OR
Distance for the day
434.7 miles
704.4 kms
May, 4/15
After two and a half days of rest and ice Lori's foot, albeit still purple, can accept a boot so we're off to the races.This was time well spent ensuring she was feeling up to riding. What a trooper!
Thanks to an early night we're checked-out and rolling before 7:30 AM which is early for us. A quick fuel stop and we hit 395-north and roll it on. The day is fresh and sunny and it's a pleasure to feel the early morning air on my face.
It's a quick run up the hill from Reno and we're soon at the Califorina state line and passing through the agriculture road check where we get waved through with a big smile from the inspection officer. The hills are brown and dotted with cattle and I like to get their attention with a blast from my horn as I cruise by them. We stop for a quick photo-op at the 'shoe-tree' on the side of the road. These quaintly adorned trees have been popping up a lot in the last few years. There used to be this one very big one on Hwy 50 in Nevada between Fallon and Middlegate Station but it isn't there anymore...must have fallen down under the weight of the all the shoes.
Shoe-Tree Hwy 395.
Before too long we're rolling into Susanville and I need a coffee and a stretch. We pull up on the main street in front of the Primo Deli and Bakery and saunter in. We're quickly greeted by the new owners who are in the early stages of launching this new venture so there are ladders and paint cans throughout the place but the coffee's on and they're making lunches.The thing about small towns is you sit down and in no time at all someone is saying howdy and asking where you're going. I love this interaction, it's what makes the trip all the more delicious.We meet Danny, the new owner, working away at the chopping board and he takes some time to yak with us. We also meet John, the ex-pat cabbie from Brooklyn, N.Y., who pulls up a chair and hangs with us as we have our coffee. He's a motorcyclist too, however; today is ride of choice is a bicycle. Danny's wife, sorry I missed her name, stops by now and then to top up our cups. There's a bunch of local folks having lunch at the other end of the long table and there's people coming and going and everybody knows one another and it's friendly and relaxed. I could easily spend a couple of hours here yakking but we have to be on our way as we have a lot of ground to cover. So, the next time you're passing through Susanville stop in and have lunch with Danny et al at the Primo Deli and Bakery.Susanville is where we leave 395 and head north-east on Hwy 139 passing John on his bicyle and we exchange waves. This is a wonderfully scenic road which we actually covered last year in Desert Honeymoon although we were going in the opposite direction. Lots of ranchland, hills, pine forests and dry lake beds and best of all no traffic in fact the road was pretty much deserted. We stay with 139 which become 299 and we continue north-east for a while rejoining 395 in the town of Alturas where we stop for fuel.
Lori on Hwy ?
Hwy 395 north of Lakeview, OR.
Dry lake bed.
A quick pit stop in the bush.
It's 395 north, crossing the Oregon state line and into Lakeview which is a misnomer to say the least as all the lakes around there are dry and deserted. The town is decaying and it's a sorry sight with all the closed and boarded up stores, restaurants and gas stations. There is a prison on the outskirts of town so I can only assume this is what keeps what's left of the local economy grinding along. Once out of Lakeview it's ride north to the junction of Hwy 31 where we swing north-west. This stretch of road is hot, dry and frankly kind of boring. It looked interesting on the map with all the 'lakes' along the way but once again the lakes are dried up and it's black flies, dust devils and gravel trucks competing to blow us off the road. While riding along I notice another motorcycle coming up behind Lori at a quick pace. The headlight gets brighter in my rear-view mirrors and when it gets close enough I recognize the gold coloured forks of a Suzuki V-Strom, the same as ours. The rider comes up on our left to pass us and he pause for a second by Lori and then passes me with a quick pause and a friendly wave and he roars off out of sight. Not too far ahead is the town of Paisley and coming into 'town' I spot the 'Strom parked on the side on the road so we pull up to say hello. Second surprise is this bike has BC plates too. It turns out Bill, the rider, is from Kelowna and on his way home from a trip down to Yosemite. We talk V-Stroms for a while and Bill goes for a walk while Lori and I take off. Once again you meet all kinds of people when you take the time to meet them!
Bill from Kelowna
V-Strom Rally Paisley, OR
Hwy 31 is becoming a drag and I want off it. I'm getting tired, windblown to Hell and my mouth and eyes are full of dust. After 120 miles of this torture I never thought I'd be so happy to see the junction of Hwy 97! With another thirty miles to go we're in Bend, Oregon, our oasis for the night. I booked a room the day before so it's unpack and go for a much needed shower. We're tired and don't feel like going out so it's order in pizza and kick back. Before too long I'm nodding off and it's lights out. Tomorrow morning we'll figure out where we're going next.Until then.......
Steve
Bend, OR
Distance for the day
434.7 miles
704.4 kms
Saturday, 2 May 2015
Part VI - All's Well That Bends Well
May 2/15
It was a restless night for me. Between thinking about the bike and an intestinal battle royale I didn't really get a good night's sleep.
Once outside I'm going over Lori's bike. Just as I had suspected there wasn't evidence of any new leakage. We saddle up and head over to the Suzuki dealer which is only a ten minute run from the hotel. We roll up and go into the service area. Wayne, the lead tech greets us and comes out and goes over the bike. He hears the story about the fall, the oil which has stopped dripping and he goes underneath with a flashlight. He sees where the drip is from and shows me what has happened. Evidently when the bike went over, because it was on it's side for a couple of minutes, it was long enough for oil to run back and enter the air box. I was not aware thi was possible, but now I know better. Not a lot accumlated, but just enough to drip out from high in the engine area and bug the hell out of me. He did some more poking and probing, taking his time, and gave it the OK. The oil level is still good, however, as a precaution I grab a quart to take with us. First thing this morning I called our service guy back home in Langley and got the specs on the oil he put in last service. We use semi-synthetic, Motule 5100, 10-40 weight, the Reno dealer has it in stock and we're happy campers. Big load off my mind but hey, it's my job to worry and cover any possible scenanio.
Feeling relieved we can now think about the next leg of the trip. What surprise destination can we come up with? Although she is feeling a lot better, Lori's ankle is still swollen so we've decided o stay one more day and let her get back to fighting form. Personally another sleep in day suits me fine so we'll spend the weekend in Reno. There is a car wash down the street so I might take the bike over and wash it tomorrow. Funny, we were passing through Reno nearly a year ago on our honeymoon and here we are back again. I've been here a lot over the last fifteen years but each trip I end up spending more time in the outskirts, cruising around the back roads than downtown. In case you're interested here is the url for the story Desert Honeymoon: A Motorcycle Odyssey http://steve-buckton2.blogspot.ca
With a free day today we head over to Reno Road Riders for an in-line switch for my heated vest that will save me the hassle of plugging and unplugging while riding along. Lori treats me to the switch, you gotta love that! We're in a tire-kicking mood so we stop in at the Harley dealer along with the Honda and the Kawasaki shop. Since they're all located on the same street it's easy to kill some time looking at the new machines and accessories. I was thinking about getting a new helmet, however; with the exchange rate the prices are better back in the Canada. Thanks to Lori I now know what the Snell test and rating means.
Next it's back to the hotel to finish off a blog entry, do some emails and generally get caught up on some administrative tasks. As luck would have it there is a Shepler's Western Wear right across the street so we wander over there and score a couple of western shirts. Those who know me know I'm a sucker for cowboy shirts and I'm happy to say I added a new one to my closet today.
We're relaxing and reading and thinking about dinner plans. Lori just went downstairs to throw a load of laundry in the washer I'm going to kick back tonight and work on the next leg of the trip. Many thanks to all who read these stories and the feedback you give is really appreciated. Good or bad I welcome your comments.
There's more to come.......
Distance Today
15 miles
24 kms
Steve
Reno, NV
May 2/15
It was a restless night for me. Between thinking about the bike and an intestinal battle royale I didn't really get a good night's sleep.
Once outside I'm going over Lori's bike. Just as I had suspected there wasn't evidence of any new leakage. We saddle up and head over to the Suzuki dealer which is only a ten minute run from the hotel. We roll up and go into the service area. Wayne, the lead tech greets us and comes out and goes over the bike. He hears the story about the fall, the oil which has stopped dripping and he goes underneath with a flashlight. He sees where the drip is from and shows me what has happened. Evidently when the bike went over, because it was on it's side for a couple of minutes, it was long enough for oil to run back and enter the air box. I was not aware thi was possible, but now I know better. Not a lot accumlated, but just enough to drip out from high in the engine area and bug the hell out of me. He did some more poking and probing, taking his time, and gave it the OK. The oil level is still good, however, as a precaution I grab a quart to take with us. First thing this morning I called our service guy back home in Langley and got the specs on the oil he put in last service. We use semi-synthetic, Motule 5100, 10-40 weight, the Reno dealer has it in stock and we're happy campers. Big load off my mind but hey, it's my job to worry and cover any possible scenanio.
Feeling relieved we can now think about the next leg of the trip. What surprise destination can we come up with? Although she is feeling a lot better, Lori's ankle is still swollen so we've decided o stay one more day and let her get back to fighting form. Personally another sleep in day suits me fine so we'll spend the weekend in Reno. There is a car wash down the street so I might take the bike over and wash it tomorrow. Funny, we were passing through Reno nearly a year ago on our honeymoon and here we are back again. I've been here a lot over the last fifteen years but each trip I end up spending more time in the outskirts, cruising around the back roads than downtown. In case you're interested here is the url for the story Desert Honeymoon: A Motorcycle Odyssey http://steve-buckton2.blogspot.ca
With a free day today we head over to Reno Road Riders for an in-line switch for my heated vest that will save me the hassle of plugging and unplugging while riding along. Lori treats me to the switch, you gotta love that! We're in a tire-kicking mood so we stop in at the Harley dealer along with the Honda and the Kawasaki shop. Since they're all located on the same street it's easy to kill some time looking at the new machines and accessories. I was thinking about getting a new helmet, however; with the exchange rate the prices are better back in the Canada. Thanks to Lori I now know what the Snell test and rating means.
Next it's back to the hotel to finish off a blog entry, do some emails and generally get caught up on some administrative tasks. As luck would have it there is a Shepler's Western Wear right across the street so we wander over there and score a couple of western shirts. Those who know me know I'm a sucker for cowboy shirts and I'm happy to say I added a new one to my closet today.
We're relaxing and reading and thinking about dinner plans. Lori just went downstairs to throw a load of laundry in the washer I'm going to kick back tonight and work on the next leg of the trip. Many thanks to all who read these stories and the feedback you give is really appreciated. Good or bad I welcome your comments.
There's more to come.......
Distance Today
15 miles
24 kms
Steve
Reno, NV
Part V - The Mean, Lonely Road
May 1/15
We wake to a cool clear morning and waste no time loading up, get some fuel and hit the road. Delta quickly falls behind as we shoot past the ranches and grazing cattle rolling west on Hwy 50 The Lonliest Road In America' to today's destination, Reno, Nevada.
The landscape begins to change getting harsher as the trees shrink, the grass becomes scrub and we're into desert conditions. The elevation is in the 6,000' range and rises and falls while we run fast on the straight-aways, sweep the curves and skip through twisty canyons.
Crash bars and a armour padded riding jacket saved Loris elbow. So for all you kids and newbies out there; wear your protective gear. It will save you from worse injuries.
We hit the road and continue on to the state line. Loris appears to be riding fine, although from time to time I see her extend and stretch her leg out. I pull up along side and give her an inquisitive thumbs-up. Lori points to where the rear view mirror used to be. Used to be? WTF? Sh reached down and holds up the errant mirror. I can't understand how the lefthand mirror could have been damaged during the fall as the bike lay on it's right side. We shrug and continue on down the road to the Nevada state line. where we find a gas station, convenience store, restaurant, bar and casino all rolled into one. It's coffee time and assess the side mirror. No biggie as it's simply come unscrewed. It's on a left-handed thread and while adjusting it Lori pushed a little too hard and the mirror came out. Lori's in the store, walking a bit better, and I tackle the mirror. There is another motorcyclist yakking with me who ponders how anyone, while riding, could unscrew their mirror and grab it before it falls on the road. I look at him and all I can say is, "You don't know my wife."
The mirror is a quick fix, Lori's feeling a bit better and we make a plan to carry on. The next town is Ely (E-lee). Lori's feeling better, she's a toughie, so we decide to continue on with the original plan and steam on to Reno.
Fuel up in Ely, another coffee and yak with the folks in the Chevron station. I notice this station is on the Shoshone Nation reserve and see signs informing customers they must have their tribal cards to get their fuel discount. Fuel discount? My mind springs to attention and ask the attendants, who save for one cashier, are all Shoshone, if Lori's Canadian Metis card is honoured there. They are friendly folk and quite interested in her card and pass it around. One fellow goes off to phone the band financial officer and returns with a thumbs-up; her card is welcome there. Now for the kicker. We've...already...paid! Doh! The Chevron folk feel bad and give Lori a big flavoured coffee to soften the blow.
Saddling up we continue west all the while soaking up the incredible desert scenery; canyons, mesas, buttes, tumble weed and wide open skies. Next town is Eureka, about seventy miles west of Ely. Entering town I notice a deli off to my left so I make a quick U-ie and we're in the parking lot. I'm hungry and feel like taking a break and it's also a good opportunity to take another assessment of Lori's heel.
We're in the deli, and I'm looking around. Something is not adding up here. Now, insert your best Outer Limits theme whistle here. We're in a town in the middle of Shoshone lands. The two gals at the deli counter are Amish, the manager is a fast talking guy with a Philly accent and the customers are Jewish...oh and a there's a Native guy and a couple of miners in the back. Interesting place. What an interesting assortment of cultures; everybody is friendly, the food is yummy, the prices are reasonable and I'm a happy guy. Lori, although quite tender, is feeling a bit better. I really have admiration for her; she takes a spill, gets hurt, hobbles to her feet to help get her bike up, sucks it up and hops back on ready to ride another 400 miles across the desert on the 'Lonliest Road in America'. Incredible!
Out in the parking lot and it's oh-oh time again. There is a tell-tale puddle of oil underneath Lori's bike. I lay in the dust and poke around and find oil dripping from high up in the engine area which doesn't make any sense to me. The sump and the oil pump are both located low on the bike and were protected by the crash bar. The forks are all OK, no leaking there, the reservoirs for the brakes and clutch are all at proper levels and secure as is the filler plug and level indicator on the engine sump. I clean it up with a rag figuring the oil, which obviously appeared after and as a result of the fall is not indicitive of any major damage...at least I don't think so.
We carry on to Austin where we fill up the tanks and check the oil again. Yup. There is that nasty drip on the ground. We start the engine while I check for leakage while running but there is no evidence of any issue and the sump level has not moved. Onward we go and this issue is driving me nuts. I'm worried about Lori's foot. I can't figure where the oil came from when the bike tipped, can we get it fixed in Reno? Is it serious? How how will it take? What if we have to leave the bike there, put Lori on a plane, I ride home alone, who can I ask with a truck to come back to Reno with me on a weekend and pick the bike up, maybe they'll fix it and I'll fly down and ride it back. What if the oil suddenly pours out causing the engine to seize and pitching an already wounded Wahine into the desert or much worse into oncoming traffic. What if?.....What if?...What if? I'm really worried but it helps the miles roll by. I just want to get to Reno, get Lori's foot on ice or to the hospital, get the bike fixed...not a fun ride I can tell you.
In Fallon we stop for a cold drink as the temperature is now 30 degrees Celsius are I'm swimming in my riding jacket. We get on the phone to the Suzuki dealer in Reno who tells me it's their busiest time of year, they're down to four techs and the shop is backed up for at least a week to a week and a half. Just what I wanted to hear. I explain our situation, that we're a long way from home, yadda, yadda, yadda. He agrees to looking at the bike in the AM and give us an assessment, however; if if requires work, parts etc......"Well we're backed up. It's our busiest time of year".
Not feeling overly reassured we bear down for the last sixty miles to Reno and the motel we have booked in advance. Check in is easy, the clerk is very friendly and gets us a quiet room way in the back. We commit for two nights but tell him we may be here for a few days if we have serious mechanical and medical issues. Once in the room we get Lori's boot off and it's not ugly looking but it ain't pretty either. It's swollen and bruised. I scrounge up some ice pronto and we get her foot up and on ice. Next I go off hunting and gathering for cold refreshing beverages; a couple of Pepsi's for me and some Bud for our injured patient. I get on line searching other, perhaps more forthcoming bike dealers but theses guys are the only game in town. I check with Lori, who after the icing and a couple of Buds informs me that she is feeling much better, thank you very much. There is an Indian restaurant attached to the motel and is emanating some wonderful aromas so we surrender and make our way down for dinner. Lori orders the server's favourite, goat curry and I opt for the chicken vindaloo which is very tasty.
Back in the hotel I'm still thinking about the oil issue, oh there is still some evidence of dripping but it appears to have abated so I know it is not a leak but an accumulated spill resulting from the fall. But where did it come from from; this is what puzzles me.
I hit the sack early but despite Lori's reassurances that all the issues will somehow work out, my sleep is restless. I'm trashed tired from the ride, worried about Lori, the bike issue, the haggling I'll probably have to do tomorrow and my vindaloo is waging war in my stomach.
Let's see what tomorrow brings.
Distance travelled today
486 miles
782 kms
Steve
Reno, NV
May 1/15
We wake to a cool clear morning and waste no time loading up, get some fuel and hit the road. Delta quickly falls behind as we shoot past the ranches and grazing cattle rolling west on Hwy 50 The Lonliest Road In America' to today's destination, Reno, Nevada.
The landscape begins to change getting harsher as the trees shrink, the grass becomes scrub and we're into desert conditions. The elevation is in the 6,000' range and rises and falls while we run fast on the straight-aways, sweep the curves and skip through twisty canyons.
Drama time. The air is cool and somewhere just east of the Nevada state line, Lori, who's in the lead, pulls over to the side of the road on some gravel to hook up her heated vest. No problem as I sit on my bike and wait for her. Lori's bike is on a slight incline to her right and as she goes to plant her foot her boot slips on the gravel and oh-oh...Wahine's down! She took a nasty tumble, the bike came with her and pined her leg. Action stations as I scramble off my bike and rush around and shut off her engine and lift the bike enough to allow her to pull her foot out from underneath. This is horror movie time with all kinds of thoughts screaming through my mind. "Are you OK?" "Yes. I think so." That's a good start. "Where does it hurt?" "My foot." 'OK. Can you stand?" I'm helping her up and she can't put any weight on her foot. I'm trying to get her to sit on a rock while I go to right the bike. Lori, ever the warrior woman, pitches in to help and we get the bike up on it's stand. Lori, who's standing but still limping, has no other apparent and immediate injuries. Now we go to assess the bike. The aptly named crash bar took the brunt of the fall as did the hand protector on the handlebar. These two pieces saved the turn signals, brake lever and pedal, engine housing and the gas tank and all it's trim. I fire up the engine which immediately responds, check all the lighting, steering and front end. All appears to be A-OK.
We assess our situation. On the personal injury list Lori's boot took the hit. The wasn't any cut to the thick leather so there wasn't likely to be a cut to her foot, hopefully just some bruising. We're in the middle of nowhere with no real services for a long way so the boot stays on because we know her foot is going to swell like a balloon once the boot comes off and we may not get it back on so the old coach in me advised her to 'walk it off'. Although limping Lori sucks it up and wants to ride and see how it goes.
That's why they call them crash-bars.
Just some scuffing.
Crash bars and a armour padded riding jacket saved Loris elbow. So for all you kids and newbies out there; wear your protective gear. It will save you from worse injuries.
We hit the road and continue on to the state line. Loris appears to be riding fine, although from time to time I see her extend and stretch her leg out. I pull up along side and give her an inquisitive thumbs-up. Lori points to where the rear view mirror used to be. Used to be? WTF? Sh reached down and holds up the errant mirror. I can't understand how the lefthand mirror could have been damaged during the fall as the bike lay on it's right side. We shrug and continue on down the road to the Nevada state line. where we find a gas station, convenience store, restaurant, bar and casino all rolled into one. It's coffee time and assess the side mirror. No biggie as it's simply come unscrewed. It's on a left-handed thread and while adjusting it Lori pushed a little too hard and the mirror came out. Lori's in the store, walking a bit better, and I tackle the mirror. There is another motorcyclist yakking with me who ponders how anyone, while riding, could unscrew their mirror and grab it before it falls on the road. I look at him and all I can say is, "You don't know my wife."
The mirror is a quick fix, Lori's feeling a bit better and we make a plan to carry on. The next town is Ely (E-lee). Lori's feeling better, she's a toughie, so we decide to continue on with the original plan and steam on to Reno.
Fuel up in Ely, another coffee and yak with the folks in the Chevron station. I notice this station is on the Shoshone Nation reserve and see signs informing customers they must have their tribal cards to get their fuel discount. Fuel discount? My mind springs to attention and ask the attendants, who save for one cashier, are all Shoshone, if Lori's Canadian Metis card is honoured there. They are friendly folk and quite interested in her card and pass it around. One fellow goes off to phone the band financial officer and returns with a thumbs-up; her card is welcome there. Now for the kicker. We've...already...paid! Doh! The Chevron folk feel bad and give Lori a big flavoured coffee to soften the blow.
Fuel stop. Shoshone Reserve, Ely, NV.
Saddling up we continue west all the while soaking up the incredible desert scenery; canyons, mesas, buttes, tumble weed and wide open skies. Next town is Eureka, about seventy miles west of Ely. Entering town I notice a deli off to my left so I make a quick U-ie and we're in the parking lot. I'm hungry and feel like taking a break and it's also a good opportunity to take another assessment of Lori's heel.
We're in the deli, and I'm looking around. Something is not adding up here. Now, insert your best Outer Limits theme whistle here. We're in a town in the middle of Shoshone lands. The two gals at the deli counter are Amish, the manager is a fast talking guy with a Philly accent and the customers are Jewish...oh and a there's a Native guy and a couple of miners in the back. Interesting place. What an interesting assortment of cultures; everybody is friendly, the food is yummy, the prices are reasonable and I'm a happy guy. Lori, although quite tender, is feeling a bit better. I really have admiration for her; she takes a spill, gets hurt, hobbles to her feet to help get her bike up, sucks it up and hops back on ready to ride another 400 miles across the desert on the 'Lonliest Road in America'. Incredible!
Out in the parking lot and it's oh-oh time again. There is a tell-tale puddle of oil underneath Lori's bike. I lay in the dust and poke around and find oil dripping from high up in the engine area which doesn't make any sense to me. The sump and the oil pump are both located low on the bike and were protected by the crash bar. The forks are all OK, no leaking there, the reservoirs for the brakes and clutch are all at proper levels and secure as is the filler plug and level indicator on the engine sump. I clean it up with a rag figuring the oil, which obviously appeared after and as a result of the fall is not indicitive of any major damage...at least I don't think so.
We carry on to Austin where we fill up the tanks and check the oil again. Yup. There is that nasty drip on the ground. We start the engine while I check for leakage while running but there is no evidence of any issue and the sump level has not moved. Onward we go and this issue is driving me nuts. I'm worried about Lori's foot. I can't figure where the oil came from when the bike tipped, can we get it fixed in Reno? Is it serious? How how will it take? What if we have to leave the bike there, put Lori on a plane, I ride home alone, who can I ask with a truck to come back to Reno with me on a weekend and pick the bike up, maybe they'll fix it and I'll fly down and ride it back. What if the oil suddenly pours out causing the engine to seize and pitching an already wounded Wahine into the desert or much worse into oncoming traffic. What if?.....What if?...What if? I'm really worried but it helps the miles roll by. I just want to get to Reno, get Lori's foot on ice or to the hospital, get the bike fixed...not a fun ride I can tell you.
In Fallon we stop for a cold drink as the temperature is now 30 degrees Celsius are I'm swimming in my riding jacket. We get on the phone to the Suzuki dealer in Reno who tells me it's their busiest time of year, they're down to four techs and the shop is backed up for at least a week to a week and a half. Just what I wanted to hear. I explain our situation, that we're a long way from home, yadda, yadda, yadda. He agrees to looking at the bike in the AM and give us an assessment, however; if if requires work, parts etc......"Well we're backed up. It's our busiest time of year".
Not feeling overly reassured we bear down for the last sixty miles to Reno and the motel we have booked in advance. Check in is easy, the clerk is very friendly and gets us a quiet room way in the back. We commit for two nights but tell him we may be here for a few days if we have serious mechanical and medical issues. Once in the room we get Lori's boot off and it's not ugly looking but it ain't pretty either. It's swollen and bruised. I scrounge up some ice pronto and we get her foot up and on ice. Next I go off hunting and gathering for cold refreshing beverages; a couple of Pepsi's for me and some Bud for our injured patient. I get on line searching other, perhaps more forthcoming bike dealers but theses guys are the only game in town. I check with Lori, who after the icing and a couple of Buds informs me that she is feeling much better, thank you very much. There is an Indian restaurant attached to the motel and is emanating some wonderful aromas so we surrender and make our way down for dinner. Lori orders the server's favourite, goat curry and I opt for the chicken vindaloo which is very tasty.
Back in the hotel I'm still thinking about the oil issue, oh there is still some evidence of dripping but it appears to have abated so I know it is not a leak but an accumulated spill resulting from the fall. But where did it come from from; this is what puzzles me.
I hit the sack early but despite Lori's reassurances that all the issues will somehow work out, my sleep is restless. I'm trashed tired from the ride, worried about Lori, the bike issue, the haggling I'll probably have to do tomorrow and my vindaloo is waging war in my stomach.
Let's see what tomorrow brings.
Distance travelled today
486 miles
782 kms
Steve
Reno, NV
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