"Bless This Final Drive and All Who Sail."

[ASPHALT]

Judge Smails: It’s easy to grin / When your ship comes in / And you’ve got the stock market beat. / But the man worthwhile, / Is the man who can smile, / When his shorts are too tight in the seat.
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Altered slightly: It's easy to grin / When your rear wheel will spin / And you can stand the stock GS seat. / But the rider worthwhile, / Is the rider who can smile / When his final drive is ground up like meat.

So, thus begins my small ride report from L.A. to Seattle for a week of work. The 12GS had a broken return spring fixed last week, so, officially, I have now had one mechanical failure out of three boxers and 60,000 miles. But, of course, it is now Final Drive Failure season (comes right before Indian Summer) so, in the deep recesses of my mind the thought of a final drive exploding is there. I will update this ride report here and there. The trip is a short 1,000 some odd miles. Begins tomorrow, Friday 8/31 at 5AM. We shall see.

"I, Christen Thee The Flying Time Bomb."
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[ASPHALT]

OK…so the great thing about motorcycle trips is you can change your plans at will. In my case, after talking with some friends at work, I realized B-lining it up I-5 in a Southern California heat wave would not be a good idea. One guy suggested the 101. Yes, closer to the coast would be cooler, but I’m more of a mountain person, so 395 into the Eastern Sierras was it. Besides, I love 395 and you pass Bishop, Ca., home of Mahogany smoked meats and some of the best jerky around. More on that later.
So, after a groggy goodbye to wifey and a promise to kiss the baby for me when he wakes, I’m up and on the road at 5am. As I travel up the I-5 to the 14 I can already feel the heat starting. These days in Cali the weather has had air conditioning running all night it is so hot. I confirm to myself that I’m making a good choice heading for the mountains. First stop: Mojave.
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And as the sun peaks up over the distant range...
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I pull off to take some pics and check the old final drive. I would normally not, but this report is “Bless This Final Drive”, so at each stop I checked and snapped a pic of the ol’ rear end. Looks fine. I’m not paranoid, just trying to be funny.
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Next stop, Bishop. Knowing full well that I am heading to Seattle to work with people that love beef jerky as much as me I had to stop and get some. Mahogany smoked meats is a famous stop that has been there since the 1920’s and makes some fine, fine jerky. I get some Western, some Habanero, some Indian strips and, of course, the thick cut Cowboy jerky. Everything in the one Touratech case eventually smells liked smoked meat…not a bad thing.
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Off in the distance is the Sierras and some killer mountain roads to be enjoyed.
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Final drive: check.:lol3
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Now just before a turn off onto Hwy 89 and Monitor Pass, I see a flash of lightning and hear the crack of thunder. Everything you always hear about lightning and motorcycles is to get off the road. Any other day I would have, but I’m on a Banzai run of 1300 miles in two days and I need to log some miles. So, with a full admission of stupidity, I continue on.

Dark skies tell me what is ahead.
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Top of Monitor Pass and the pictures do not do justice to how the weather was. It is summer and I am riding in cold, wet weather…wtf?
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Riding up past the western shore of Lake Tahoe I ask a gas station attendant what the weather was like yesterday. "85 and sunny." Oh, well. You can barely make out Lake Tahoe in the distance. And I ended up meeting some kid on the side of the road…with the same black R12GS…fancy that.
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[ASPHALT]

Now I know that I am not going to make my original plan of making it to Eugene, Oregon the first day. Maybe the I-5 B line plan would have worked for 800 miles…but not the meandering roads I’m on. So, the new plan is to make it to Shasta Lake. I remembered the hillbilly resort that my wife and I tried to get a room at while on our way to Canada a couple years ago. And, although the place was old and full of some questionable people, I remembered the bar. I knew I could have a good time. As a side note…it would make a good place for a beemer gathering- you can get a cabin or pitch a tent and it has pretty good food and booze.
After going through Lake Tahoe and some beautiful riding on Hwy 89 through Quincy and other towns I wind up at the entrance to Lassen Volcanic park. As much as I want to ride through, I need to get over to the 5 and put the rest of the super slab miles under me and get to Shasta. It feels good to be in the heat of the sun and dry my leathers out some.
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So, 750 miles and here I am at Lakeshore Resort and I get my crummy cabin. I change into shorts and sandals and head to the bar. The idea would be to spend NO time in the room. Not a problem. The lake was low and they all blamed L.A….so I informed them where I live in L.A. we still get 50% of our water from local wells.
It ended up being a fun night meeting some funny people and listening to a live band. I came close to sitting in on the drums at the urging of the drummer…but, ahhhhh, no. Here's a few pics of the swank resort lifestyle. None of the inside of the "cabin...you'd a loved those.
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Thought THIS was kind of funny, being on a bike trip after all.
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Saturday morning and I’m back on the road. Now I actually do need to just take the 5 the rest of the way to Seattle. Not too bad, though. The 5 is pretty scenic through northern Cali, Oregon and Washington. Not many pics because I was just hammering some miles.
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The ol' shaft is in tact.
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As a ritual whith this Seattle show each year, as we all filter into town we meet up at The Brooklyn, a great oyster bar. Some Vodka, oysters and steak over the course of a few hours as we sit at the bar. Good stuff. I know, I know, no pics of the food. I screwed up in that part of the report. The hotel is new and in hard contrast to the night before when I slept with my clothes on in the creepy cabin. Time to go to work the next day.
The gig is at Safeco field and is definitely one of the larger shows we do each year. These are just a few shots of us rigging the PA system that flies. Lot of speaker cabinets to cover the seating area.
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Yours truly...
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And that’s that. I’m here for a week. The bike is parked. The final drive is resting quietly ready for the trip home. Haven’t decided which route, but I am leaning towards the 101 and a little coastal ride. We’ll see. To be continued.

[ASPHALT]

Hey, so since I'm working here in Seattle for a week, I'll dispense some interesting info about Safeco Field. I learned these facts this morning from the production manager for the show, who is a big Mariners fan.
The retractable roof weighs 22 million pounds. It can support 6 to 7 feet of snow.
The roof is more than 9 acres in size.
It contains enough steel to build a 55 story skyscraper.
There are 420,000 bolts between the roof and seats.
It has 200 miles of concrete.
It has 40 miles of plumbing.
It has 150 miles of electical wire.
It is built of 620,000 bricks.
There is 20 to 30 miles of hotwater tubing underneath the field that can be used to bring the grass out of dormancy and ready for opening day.
The infield uses 600 tons of clay.

That's all for now.

[dlearl476]

I’m not paranoid, just trying to be funny.


Remember, Mr. Murphey LOVES a smartass. :brow Maybe you better call RideWest and make sure they're stocked up on bearings and seals. :D

Hey, so since I'm working here in Seattle for a week,

If you get a chance, take a ride up to Mt. Hood. Nice.

[BubbaZanetti]

neat report man, thanks for sharing!

[SheRidesABeemer]

Never mind Murphy, I love a smart-ass report too! Lots of fun, backed up by good pics!

Reminds me of the time on Ebay when someone was selling "Blessed Virgin Mary Grilled Cheese", everyone began changing their titles to BVMGC this and that because it was a popular search. :D

Ride on and good luck!

[ASPHALT]

O.K., the rest of the story. I got up early Friday and hit the road out of Seattle. 5 south down to the 8 and over to the 101. The 101 would be my return route, in all its absolute beauty. And it never disappoints. I hit the bridge in Astoria where you cross the Columbia River into Oregon. I really should have snapped a few pics when traveling over the bridge but wearing a Nikon D50 around your neack while riding is, well, a bit Flava Flav. I love riding over bridges, though, and this one is a biggun'.

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I traveled the winding 101 down the Oregon coast to the Cali border and the port town of Brookings. I remembered this town from another trip and recalled the hotels and restaraunts down by the water. Best Western and Smugglers Cove restaraunt and Bar and I was a happy camper.
The next morning is when I had the strangest adventure on a bike to date. I got on the road at 4am because I did not want to be late in getting home to L.A. I had some miles ahead of me. So, I cross the border into California and stop to get gas. I recall exactly where because this incident is burned into my head. Indian Road just north of Crescent City at a Shell station across the road from Lucky 7 Indian Casino. I unlock the gas cap while looking at the blinking lights of the casino thinking to mysef about the riff raff that could be around at 4am in the pitch black. The station is closed but the pumps are on. As I'm reaching for my wallet an obviously intoxicated Native American in a beat up Honda Civic rolls in eyeing me up the whole time. He pulls up between the pumps next to me, not next to a pump for fuel, just next to me. He stares and then starts laughing. Toothless smile, weathered face, broken up straw hat and a car full of crap. No way am I pulling my wallet out. I click the cap shut, start the bike and roll to the exit. As I pull up to the stop sign before the left onto the 101, I hear the tires screeching behind me. I am not waiting for the oncoming cars, I pull out and start banging through the gears, tearing down the 101 in the dark with thick fog and aout 10 feet visibility. The guy races out and is right on my ass. Now I'm doing around 80mph and cannot see ****. My heart is beating a mile a minut and I'm thinking , "What the #$!@ is going on?!" Feeling like I'm going to hit a deer any minute, I stat throttling back. The guy pulls up beside me and then darts off. I watch his tilights for a couple miles and then see them turn right. As I pass the road he turned on I glance to make sure he is down the road and not turning around. He is gone. What the F$!K was THAT. I make it to the south side of Crescent City and as I'm fueling up I tell the young kid opening the Chevron about it and he just laughs. "Yea, lot a drunk dudes up there." No kiddin'?
Anyway, the rest of the ride was full of seaside cliffs, ocean mist, beachfront towns and the characters that reside there and all the stuff great coastal rides are made of. Riding through the Redwood Forest in the dark was surreal. The smell of cedar and pine and the warmth that the forst gives off and not being able to see beyond your headlight...that I will always remember.
Not too many pics on the ride home...just a lot of riding. Here is shot from the California coast and a lighthouse.

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I made it home later that evening, but not after running out of gas three miles from home! You see, being that close, I just wanted to get home to my wife and the little fella, so as I hit "0" on the miles remaining indicator I pushed because in all my other bikes you could easily get another 15-20 miles after that. Well, on my GS...when you hit 0 you have about three miles left. So, my wife brought me the lawn mower gas from the garage and all was well. What a day. Round trip total 2,700 miles L.A. to Seattle for work and back.
And the final drive...she is still blessed.
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[Timba]

Nice ride report! :thumb

Glad to hear the FD is still intact. :evil