lancew
10-21-2007, 04:31 PM
10/6/2007
Man, nothing feels like packing up and getting ready for a road trip.
This one’s really different, though. I’m stuffing gear I’ve never worn into a helmet-bag and backpack. I’m getting ready for next weekend’s flight to a Michigan town I’ve never visited to pick up a bike I’ve never seen in person, then ride it home on roads I’ve never ridden.
By the way- thanks to the member who went and checked the bike out for me- you know who you are. That was beyond the call of duty- I’m not disappointed- everything is exactly as you and Grand Rapids BMW said it would be.
My gear is not yet broken-in. The pearl-black Arai is exactly the same as the five-month-old scratched, dented lid it replaces, but the pads haven’t even started molding to my head and face yet. The only blemishes are road-scrapes on the tinted shield I brought over from the old one. I’d transfer the pads, too, but I’m wary of anything helmet-related that has been through a wreck. They might be more comfy, but there’s probably some leftover Panic Karma in those things from the “oh-no-second” when I realized I was going down.
I’m looking forward to a new start.
The new Cortech jacket is stiff, bright and new-smelling when I pull it off the garage peg. I note the contrast with the old one behind it that I haven’t gotten around to tossing yet. The old one is faded and wrinkled, and smells of the dust and exhaust of six years and fifty thousand miles. It is also worn down to near-transparency on the right shoulder and chest, and there are holes in the right elbow where the asphalt ground it away. I pause and try them both on. The new one is solid and reassuring, but it’s not “mine” yet. The old one is comfortable, and familiar, but it’s all used up. Shame, too- I had just treated the thing with Nik-Wax, and hadn’t even ridden in the rain yet. I still don’t toss it.
I stuff my new leather pants into my backpack. They fit, but they’ve never been really worn either. I didn’t have any problem tossing the Levis they replaced into the trash- I’m still putting fresh band-aids and Neosporin on my knee every morning.
I stuff my pack and helmet bag with silkies, undies, summer gloves, winter gloves, rain pants, extra shield, turtleneck, camelback, cargo net, Helen straps, flashlight, batteries, wool socks, atlas, airport-friendly toiletries, notebook, camera, Gold Bond, phone charger, and my Anonymous book. No room for the new jacket’s liner. No big deal, if it’s cold I’ll pop into Walmart for another layer.
I think twice, and pull the atlas back out. I need to double check my route- I’m planning on taking two days for an 800 mile ride, might as well find good backroads and get off the slab since I’ll be taking it easy. Maybe I’ll take three days.
I look at the map. Ah-ha, the Falling Leaf rally is next weekend, too, and it’s only five hundred miles out of my way. My job may be moving to St. Louis soon, it would be a good idea to check out the area, right? I make a note to check the time-off calendar at work- maybe I should get used to the new wheels with a visit to my first real rally, meet the locals? Hmmm…
10/8
Can’t get the 15th off. No Falling Leaf. Realistically, I haven’t been on a long day-ride in a long time anyhow, and my ribs and muscles are still a little bit sore from the accident. Best to stick with heading straight home in two days, and leave myself Sunday in case things go poorly.
I re-check the forecast for Grand Rapids and find out there actually IS room in my bag for the jacket liner.
10/10/07
Have been caught multiple times at work studying “Ohio Motorcycle Roads”, “West Virginia Motorcycle Roads,” and of course the MOA Forum. Re-check weather.com. Find room in bag for another layer. Decide to take three days.
10/12
Up at 4:00am. Out of the house by 4:30. In the air by 6:30, and Mike from BMW Grand Rapids picks me up at the airport at 10:15. Thirty minute drive to the shop, I take a quick test ride. “Don’t worry, I’m not going far- you guys have my long underwear in the backpack by your desk.” I come back, tell Mike I won’t need a ride back to the airport, and sign the papers. By 12:15 I’m on the road.
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/208192849-S.jpg
The bike itself is not pristine, but it’s in good shape for a bike with 26,000 miles on it, certainly cleaner than my old bike- even before the last 100 feet. Tires, brakes, and finish are better than advertised, and by reputation I tend to trust these guys. I’ve ridden 1150GS’s before, but not in a while. I know I like them- I’m buying this one to see how I like living with one long-term.
Good thing I brought the bungee net- the Z-technik shield buffets my head, and the original shield take up the entire Givi case… and I end up netting my helmet bag to the passenger seat. Saves me the trouble of deciding what to leave behind. No worries.
It’s 41 degrees when I leave the shop. The scenery around Grand Rapids is as advertised- flat, straight, and cold. The good news is that the speed limit is 70, and I quickly learn that traffic feels free to move at 80, 85, or 90mph. This thing doesn’t have the zoom of my old K1200RS, but these speeds are no problem at all. I had wondered how it would feel to be on a bike again after the accident- would I have flashbacks, or find out I had turned chicken? As it happened, it was no problem… I’m just going for a ride.
I slab it all the way to Toledo, then pull onto Ohio Rte 2 along Lake Erie in hopes of seeing my first Great Lake. Went all the way to Sandusky, hardly saw the water at all, nuts to me. I wheeled into a Comfort Inn with an attached sports bar and was quoted $119.00 for the night. Twenty minutes later I checked into a Motel 6 for $49.99, with a Subway grinder in one saddlebag and a 6-pack of Samuel Adams in the other. It’s more my style anyhow- even with unlimited funds I’d probably choose the Motel 6. I make some quick phone calls to wife, parents, friends, and fellow Sox fans, then I settle in to watch the game and study the map for tomorrow.
I got a room with a view.
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/208193529-S.jpg
And yes, it's home sweet home.
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/210992346-S.jpg
I could maybe blast home tomorrow if I get up early. 600-ish miles, but I haven’t done a big (or even medium-sized) day in a while. Plus I’m on a new bike. Plus I have reserved the weekend, and can take backroads. It might be a while before I’m up this way again. See ya Sunday, baby.
10/13
I wake up late. I shower and scoop everything into the bags, check out and thumb the starter. I buh-buh-buh my way down to Maw’s Restaurant on 250 just south of the OH Turnpike for a monster breakfast, then hit the road. It’s 41 degrees again.
Yesterday was odd. Today feels more normal. I make my way to Rte 6 along the lake, just taking my time. I follow my own rule about never speeding near the water (no scientific evidence for it, I admit) and see enough police cars to keep the rule on the books. Travel is slow, but it’s a nice area. All beach towns are different, but they all have a similar feel. These towns have the campy easygoing waterside feeling, but they are marked by tons of public parks and several beaches.
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/208211226-S.jpg
It’s a very nice area. By the time I hit Rocky River, I’ve had enough of the 35 mph deal- it’s already 9:30 am and I’ve hardly gone 75 miles. At a gas stop, I notice the oil is only halfway up the sight glass so I check the Anon book and the map, and head down Riverside Drive to the Airport then take a left to Sills, the Cleveland BMW shop, to pick up a roadie quart (I never burn a drop from there home, but I don’t regret having it in the side case).
On the way I ride along with a guy on a K75 – when we reach the shop he introduces himself, saying “I’m an ADVRider too.” I’m not, and it sort of confuses me. Then I remember the ADV sticker that was on the bags when I bought the bike… aha. I’m just glad he didn’t give me the salute, I wouldn’t have known what I’d done wrong. Wonder whether I should take the sticker off or join ADVRider? He and I chat for a while, and another rider joins the conversation. It makes me wish I’d run down to Falling Leaf.
I stay too long at Sill’s, then hump it down I-77 to Canton. I’m running behind, so I skip the NFL hall of fame and jump on Rte 800 South. It’s described as 109 miles of hills and scenery that get more technical as you go along. Sounds like a perfect way to get used to the big GS. In Dover I pass a couple of bars and keep going even though there are bikes in the lot. I love beer as much as anybody, but I never touch it (even one) until I’m done riding for the day. I end up being the only person in a little deli, having a sandwich and salad (what happened to the days when Cheeseburger was a food group?). It’s still cold, and I’m juggling layers and camelback while I eat- I’m obviously a spectacle. They are relieved to see me go just as a “normal” family comes in.
Route 800 is exactly as promised. After it splits from 250 in Dennison the sun comes out. I find more frequent elevation changes and the start of some sweepers. After I cross I-70 the switchbacks and really good roads start. The fall foliage is just getting serious, and I’m starting to figure out the overdrive tranny. The twin has a much different power delivery than the old K, but I’m getting used to it enough that I’m starting to get in the groove again. I’m focusing on being smooth rather than going fast, and it’s all finally coming together. By the last 20 miles before Fly, OH, I’m in some really tight, technical stuff and I’m really enjoying the ride. I take a right onto route 7 and stop at a rest area for pics and a quick nature-break.
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/208211344-S.jpg
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/208211452-S.jpg
Route 7 follows the Ohio River from Fly down to I-77. It’s a gentle relaxing ride with great views of the river, and the sunny day has hit a perfect temperature. I’m still running late, so when I hit I-77 I take it down to Charleston, WV. I’m glad I did; I-77 is one of the best stretches of interstate I’ve ever ridden. I get behind some fast-moving traffic and cruise at 80-90 mph down 85 miles of long, perfect sweepers and throttle-on rushes up and down hills. The scenery, corners, and elevation changes are great- I’d like to pass the hat and see if maybe we could rent it for an afternoon and run-it-as-you-like. No LEO’s, no SUV’s, just a bunch of grinning idiots on a nice long motorcycle ride. I’m actually sorry when I hit Charleston.
I cross the Kanawha and stop for a six-pack, then point my big google-eyed headlights to the Motel 6. The room has recently been converted to “non-smoking” and apparently all they’ve done is stick up the sign and take the ashtrays out. I’m not complaining, I’ve paid more for worse bunks. The people in the next room stop me- “Hey, is that your bike? We saw you pass us a while ago. We used to ride everywhere we went…” Later, another guy stops me in the parking lot- he and his son ride together, but he’s amazed that I went all the way to Michigan to buy my bike. I don’t let on that I’m taking three days to ride home.
Tonite it’s Domino’s, and after a couple Sammies I start the internal debate over whether to Join ADVRider or take the sticker off.
“Which costs more, joining ADVRider or taking an ADV sticker off my bags?”
“Which is more likely to mess up my bags- joining ADVRider or taking an ADV sticker off my bags?”
“Which is more likely to irritate my wife- joining ADVRider or taking an ADV sticker off my bags?”
“Which takes longer- joining ADVRider or taking an ADV sticker off my bags?”
“Which involves more harsh solvents- joining ADVRider or taking an ADV sticker off my bags?”
It’s a relief when I finally fall asleep.
Man, nothing feels like packing up and getting ready for a road trip.
This one’s really different, though. I’m stuffing gear I’ve never worn into a helmet-bag and backpack. I’m getting ready for next weekend’s flight to a Michigan town I’ve never visited to pick up a bike I’ve never seen in person, then ride it home on roads I’ve never ridden.
By the way- thanks to the member who went and checked the bike out for me- you know who you are. That was beyond the call of duty- I’m not disappointed- everything is exactly as you and Grand Rapids BMW said it would be.
My gear is not yet broken-in. The pearl-black Arai is exactly the same as the five-month-old scratched, dented lid it replaces, but the pads haven’t even started molding to my head and face yet. The only blemishes are road-scrapes on the tinted shield I brought over from the old one. I’d transfer the pads, too, but I’m wary of anything helmet-related that has been through a wreck. They might be more comfy, but there’s probably some leftover Panic Karma in those things from the “oh-no-second” when I realized I was going down.
I’m looking forward to a new start.
The new Cortech jacket is stiff, bright and new-smelling when I pull it off the garage peg. I note the contrast with the old one behind it that I haven’t gotten around to tossing yet. The old one is faded and wrinkled, and smells of the dust and exhaust of six years and fifty thousand miles. It is also worn down to near-transparency on the right shoulder and chest, and there are holes in the right elbow where the asphalt ground it away. I pause and try them both on. The new one is solid and reassuring, but it’s not “mine” yet. The old one is comfortable, and familiar, but it’s all used up. Shame, too- I had just treated the thing with Nik-Wax, and hadn’t even ridden in the rain yet. I still don’t toss it.
I stuff my new leather pants into my backpack. They fit, but they’ve never been really worn either. I didn’t have any problem tossing the Levis they replaced into the trash- I’m still putting fresh band-aids and Neosporin on my knee every morning.
I stuff my pack and helmet bag with silkies, undies, summer gloves, winter gloves, rain pants, extra shield, turtleneck, camelback, cargo net, Helen straps, flashlight, batteries, wool socks, atlas, airport-friendly toiletries, notebook, camera, Gold Bond, phone charger, and my Anonymous book. No room for the new jacket’s liner. No big deal, if it’s cold I’ll pop into Walmart for another layer.
I think twice, and pull the atlas back out. I need to double check my route- I’m planning on taking two days for an 800 mile ride, might as well find good backroads and get off the slab since I’ll be taking it easy. Maybe I’ll take three days.
I look at the map. Ah-ha, the Falling Leaf rally is next weekend, too, and it’s only five hundred miles out of my way. My job may be moving to St. Louis soon, it would be a good idea to check out the area, right? I make a note to check the time-off calendar at work- maybe I should get used to the new wheels with a visit to my first real rally, meet the locals? Hmmm…
10/8
Can’t get the 15th off. No Falling Leaf. Realistically, I haven’t been on a long day-ride in a long time anyhow, and my ribs and muscles are still a little bit sore from the accident. Best to stick with heading straight home in two days, and leave myself Sunday in case things go poorly.
I re-check the forecast for Grand Rapids and find out there actually IS room in my bag for the jacket liner.
10/10/07
Have been caught multiple times at work studying “Ohio Motorcycle Roads”, “West Virginia Motorcycle Roads,” and of course the MOA Forum. Re-check weather.com. Find room in bag for another layer. Decide to take three days.
10/12
Up at 4:00am. Out of the house by 4:30. In the air by 6:30, and Mike from BMW Grand Rapids picks me up at the airport at 10:15. Thirty minute drive to the shop, I take a quick test ride. “Don’t worry, I’m not going far- you guys have my long underwear in the backpack by your desk.” I come back, tell Mike I won’t need a ride back to the airport, and sign the papers. By 12:15 I’m on the road.
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/208192849-S.jpg
The bike itself is not pristine, but it’s in good shape for a bike with 26,000 miles on it, certainly cleaner than my old bike- even before the last 100 feet. Tires, brakes, and finish are better than advertised, and by reputation I tend to trust these guys. I’ve ridden 1150GS’s before, but not in a while. I know I like them- I’m buying this one to see how I like living with one long-term.
Good thing I brought the bungee net- the Z-technik shield buffets my head, and the original shield take up the entire Givi case… and I end up netting my helmet bag to the passenger seat. Saves me the trouble of deciding what to leave behind. No worries.
It’s 41 degrees when I leave the shop. The scenery around Grand Rapids is as advertised- flat, straight, and cold. The good news is that the speed limit is 70, and I quickly learn that traffic feels free to move at 80, 85, or 90mph. This thing doesn’t have the zoom of my old K1200RS, but these speeds are no problem at all. I had wondered how it would feel to be on a bike again after the accident- would I have flashbacks, or find out I had turned chicken? As it happened, it was no problem… I’m just going for a ride.
I slab it all the way to Toledo, then pull onto Ohio Rte 2 along Lake Erie in hopes of seeing my first Great Lake. Went all the way to Sandusky, hardly saw the water at all, nuts to me. I wheeled into a Comfort Inn with an attached sports bar and was quoted $119.00 for the night. Twenty minutes later I checked into a Motel 6 for $49.99, with a Subway grinder in one saddlebag and a 6-pack of Samuel Adams in the other. It’s more my style anyhow- even with unlimited funds I’d probably choose the Motel 6. I make some quick phone calls to wife, parents, friends, and fellow Sox fans, then I settle in to watch the game and study the map for tomorrow.
I got a room with a view.
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/208193529-S.jpg
And yes, it's home sweet home.
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/210992346-S.jpg
I could maybe blast home tomorrow if I get up early. 600-ish miles, but I haven’t done a big (or even medium-sized) day in a while. Plus I’m on a new bike. Plus I have reserved the weekend, and can take backroads. It might be a while before I’m up this way again. See ya Sunday, baby.
10/13
I wake up late. I shower and scoop everything into the bags, check out and thumb the starter. I buh-buh-buh my way down to Maw’s Restaurant on 250 just south of the OH Turnpike for a monster breakfast, then hit the road. It’s 41 degrees again.
Yesterday was odd. Today feels more normal. I make my way to Rte 6 along the lake, just taking my time. I follow my own rule about never speeding near the water (no scientific evidence for it, I admit) and see enough police cars to keep the rule on the books. Travel is slow, but it’s a nice area. All beach towns are different, but they all have a similar feel. These towns have the campy easygoing waterside feeling, but they are marked by tons of public parks and several beaches.
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/208211226-S.jpg
It’s a very nice area. By the time I hit Rocky River, I’ve had enough of the 35 mph deal- it’s already 9:30 am and I’ve hardly gone 75 miles. At a gas stop, I notice the oil is only halfway up the sight glass so I check the Anon book and the map, and head down Riverside Drive to the Airport then take a left to Sills, the Cleveland BMW shop, to pick up a roadie quart (I never burn a drop from there home, but I don’t regret having it in the side case).
On the way I ride along with a guy on a K75 – when we reach the shop he introduces himself, saying “I’m an ADVRider too.” I’m not, and it sort of confuses me. Then I remember the ADV sticker that was on the bags when I bought the bike… aha. I’m just glad he didn’t give me the salute, I wouldn’t have known what I’d done wrong. Wonder whether I should take the sticker off or join ADVRider? He and I chat for a while, and another rider joins the conversation. It makes me wish I’d run down to Falling Leaf.
I stay too long at Sill’s, then hump it down I-77 to Canton. I’m running behind, so I skip the NFL hall of fame and jump on Rte 800 South. It’s described as 109 miles of hills and scenery that get more technical as you go along. Sounds like a perfect way to get used to the big GS. In Dover I pass a couple of bars and keep going even though there are bikes in the lot. I love beer as much as anybody, but I never touch it (even one) until I’m done riding for the day. I end up being the only person in a little deli, having a sandwich and salad (what happened to the days when Cheeseburger was a food group?). It’s still cold, and I’m juggling layers and camelback while I eat- I’m obviously a spectacle. They are relieved to see me go just as a “normal” family comes in.
Route 800 is exactly as promised. After it splits from 250 in Dennison the sun comes out. I find more frequent elevation changes and the start of some sweepers. After I cross I-70 the switchbacks and really good roads start. The fall foliage is just getting serious, and I’m starting to figure out the overdrive tranny. The twin has a much different power delivery than the old K, but I’m getting used to it enough that I’m starting to get in the groove again. I’m focusing on being smooth rather than going fast, and it’s all finally coming together. By the last 20 miles before Fly, OH, I’m in some really tight, technical stuff and I’m really enjoying the ride. I take a right onto route 7 and stop at a rest area for pics and a quick nature-break.
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/208211344-S.jpg
http://lancew.smugmug.com/photos/208211452-S.jpg
Route 7 follows the Ohio River from Fly down to I-77. It’s a gentle relaxing ride with great views of the river, and the sunny day has hit a perfect temperature. I’m still running late, so when I hit I-77 I take it down to Charleston, WV. I’m glad I did; I-77 is one of the best stretches of interstate I’ve ever ridden. I get behind some fast-moving traffic and cruise at 80-90 mph down 85 miles of long, perfect sweepers and throttle-on rushes up and down hills. The scenery, corners, and elevation changes are great- I’d like to pass the hat and see if maybe we could rent it for an afternoon and run-it-as-you-like. No LEO’s, no SUV’s, just a bunch of grinning idiots on a nice long motorcycle ride. I’m actually sorry when I hit Charleston.
I cross the Kanawha and stop for a six-pack, then point my big google-eyed headlights to the Motel 6. The room has recently been converted to “non-smoking” and apparently all they’ve done is stick up the sign and take the ashtrays out. I’m not complaining, I’ve paid more for worse bunks. The people in the next room stop me- “Hey, is that your bike? We saw you pass us a while ago. We used to ride everywhere we went…” Later, another guy stops me in the parking lot- he and his son ride together, but he’s amazed that I went all the way to Michigan to buy my bike. I don’t let on that I’m taking three days to ride home.
Tonite it’s Domino’s, and after a couple Sammies I start the internal debate over whether to Join ADVRider or take the sticker off.
“Which costs more, joining ADVRider or taking an ADV sticker off my bags?”
“Which is more likely to mess up my bags- joining ADVRider or taking an ADV sticker off my bags?”
“Which is more likely to irritate my wife- joining ADVRider or taking an ADV sticker off my bags?”
“Which takes longer- joining ADVRider or taking an ADV sticker off my bags?”
“Which involves more harsh solvents- joining ADVRider or taking an ADV sticker off my bags?”
It’s a relief when I finally fall asleep.