It's Wednesday morning. After taking far too long to pack, I reach Pengarus to find him waiting for me, packed and ready to go. It's a much later start that I hoped for, but really my own fault.


Tooling along for awhile, we eventually cross the Mighty Mississippi. We've entered Iowa, now it finally feels like a road trip.


Day one goes well and we're making pretty good time, and some high speed blasts keep things interesting... oops did I say that outloud? The sunset was spectacular and seems to change the sky by the minute. Only something really stupid could ruin a moment like this. Yep, you guessed it, yet another trashed chain on Trolls bike. ARGH. We pull over into a 'Motel' outside of Gibbon, NE and vow to find a new chain in the AM. Indoor parking was available :)



We spent quite awhile looking for something open to eat or at least pick up some food/supplies. But soon learn the entire town shuts down at 10pm. Yep, it was 10:15. We raided the overpriced vending machine in the one bar that was open (kitchen was closed of course) before riding back 4 miles to the Motel. Hadn't really eaten all day and dined on a small bag of Cheetos and Reices PB cups before hitting the sack.

Day 2

We spend the morning looking through the phone book while eating breakfast in Kearney 15 miles up the road from Gibbon. It's a bit bigger town and has several bike dealers. We stop by a dealer just off the Interstate. They have nothing. After making several calls, he gets a bite at a small general bike shop outside of town and gives me directions (the name escapes me right now, I'll figure it out later). We're off and rolling (barely, as my chain is slapping wildly at every throttle input). They get the E hooked up with a quality RK X-ring chain installed and dirt cheap. and we're soon on our way, but not after saying hello to the neighbors. Moo back at ya...




We make it far into Wyoming and as the sun sets, in comes the cold. Debates on whether or not to push on through to SLC and probably not arrive until midnight and frozen stiff rage on. I finally push the idea of stopping since I am not comfortable riding in the dark, cold, with rocks and cliffs on either side. I finally get a great belly fully of Queso Dip and a few beers in me and have a greats night sleep, to awaken to the view unseen in the dark the night before.


Day 3

Off in the morning... Not too long into the day, we're getting deeper into the mountains as the road starts to wind through the canyons and the scenery changes from interesting to spectacular. Can't decide to ride hard, or stop and take 50 pictures. I of course settle on riding while snapping pics at every oppurtunity. Eventually we come across a lake I knew well, as I took pics of my truck next to it 2 years prior when I drove the same route. We couldn't resist taking many shots here as it's just beautiful.



The lake isn't that far from Park City or SLC proper, and soon we're dropping into the valley after winding down hill for what seems like an eternity.


The only real dissapointment, is getting stuck behind several big rigs and a slow lady in a minivan who couldn't drive and was all over the lanes, in the one section I had been looking forward to riding since the first time I drove through 2 years prior. A several mile stretch of 50mph winding curves surrounded by barriers and mountain on either side. Oh how I wanted to drag hard parts through there. Instead we impatiently waited for traffic to clear at a whopping 45mph, only to get released for the last 2 turns. grrr.

We find the party place, walk in, greet a few people, head out to a local friend I met through last years party, Eric, who was kind enough to house us the entire weekend, where I worked on music the rest of the evening. The rest of the weekend was spent on this party so we'll soon pickup the story a few days later. Thanks again Eric! ( dilvie.com )

Day 5

It's Sunday morning. After a few hours sleep (we stayed up late chatting with our hosts until the wee hours) we say our goodbyes and thank yous and are on our way out of town. Albeit the scenic route. I don't know why I bother following the Garmin, it does some silly ass routes sometimes.

We're thouroughly enjoying our ride as the scenery is pretty. A gas stop just outside Park City yields a view of a leftover Olypmic ski jump.


After turning onto I40 we're soon dropping into the valley which houses Heber City. Worth mentioning as it's a town we've come to loathe I think. (More on that soon).


Outside of town the road winds through a shallow canyon for some time, I take it easy as I'm not familiar with it or the amount of local authorities that may be entrenched within. Shortly later it opens up to more vast areas where we come across a beautiful lake known as Strawberry Resovior. Never ones to pass up great photo ops, we pull over and snap many shots. The entire path in to the shore is gravel. We venture offroad in several spots for some specatucular photos.



We're just brimming with enthusiasm at our pictorial prowess and are ready to hit the road again, when on the way out, things go quite wrong. Pengaru notes a strange noise, and upon close inspection, has noticed his rear tires is rapidly loosing air!


I can't even begin to put into words the thoughts that probably went through both of our minds. We're damned near in the middle of nowhere. No cell phone. We go over options many times.

Eventually we figure we'll go down the road and see what we can find, and so begins the wild goose chase for help/repairs that eats up the rest of the day. We swap over his pegs onto my E (remember I have omitted passenger pegs), I crank up the zzr12 shock preload to almost max, and we're off with Pengaru riding bitch through the mountains. What an interesting site that must have been.

We come across a small gas station 10 or so miles up the road. Find out they have plugs but no air (wtf?) and the next town is small and doesn't have much of anything. So apparently Heber is a bit bigger and has more resources (told you that town would come into play again). Back to the bike for a few to think it through again. Finally decide to remove the wheel and bring it with us for possible repair. So here we are off and riding 2 up again, while carrying an extra rear E wheel hanging from Pengarus shoulder via his belt. (And you thought they were for holding up your pants!).


We reach Daniels Summit. A touristy resort/eatery between the resoivor and Heber City. We ask for supplies and are told nothing available but fix-a-flat. He's determined to make anything work, so after some considerations a few cans are purchased... For what seemed like several hours attempts were made to seal the enormous leak with the not so viscous white liquid that is fix-a-flat, to no avail (he said I could say "I told you so..." so there it is). Next step, call a tow truck.

Back to the bike and the rear wheel is replaced. And along comes our friendly tow truck driver Dave.


We proceed to try to tie down the bike into the trailer he has in tow, with tie down straps. We become very concerned with the methods and attachment points our dear Dave is trying to use, and are soon stepping in to 'help' to ensure that no damage is caused. This only takes about 45 minutes or so since 'them piece of shit straps' are all tangled up and so on... Finally it's loaded and we're back on the road for Heber to spend the night and hope for the best on Monday morning.



Imagine that, they too have indoor motorcycle parking! :)

(in reality, the owner caught wind the next morning and expressed concern, but it all worked out and he let it be)

Day 6 - The search for new rubber

We had originally planned to make it to Denver to get new rubber on the red E. It was ending it's lifespan, but as we already know, it has been killed prematurely by a rogue sharp object. Repairing it seemed futile and we were determined to replace it post haste.

Up early in the morning to check the Kawasaki dealer next door. No suitable tires. Called everywhere else in town, nearby towns... I handed the calling duties over to Pengaru. He looks again, hey... now I hadn't called that one yet. It was a honda/harley dealer in Orum around the mountain near Provo. Call 'em up. Cool! Several options available. Trying to figure out how to manage to get a replacement, we come to the realization that noone in town has a friggin' tire machine either! They mostly dealt with dirtbikes and intertubed wheels done by hand.

Finally Pengaru comes up with the option of renting a car. So we find the Ford dealer a few doors down rents cars, and we're soon piling into a late model Taurus with rear wheel in the trunk. On down the road through the valley to Orum to get a new tire mounted. It's noon by the time we get to the shop.

It's a pretty nice facility with ample shop space and a helpful and enthusiastic parts manager who eventually steps in to locate the tire we need after the tech at the counter seems to keep overlooking them all. Pengaru chooses a battleax to directly replace the current trashed tire. It was that or a Shinko! :)

Eventually it's mounted up, and we're on our way back. Get it mounted back on the bike and we're mobile once again, phew!


The days riding was pretty uneventful for most of it. We were tooling along highway 40 through eastern Utah. Seeing some ok scenery and making good time passing vehicles when we can.

Little did we know, that one of them was a Judge in a town we were fast approaching, that for some reason didn't like our style of riding or passing, which was quite mellow and more than courteous to everyone, oncoming or otherwise.

Once we're going through town hope to come along a suitable gas station to pull into, we pass a local Sheriff in an SVU on the side of the road, who promptly pulls out with his lights flashing, wtf? I was doing 35?! Quickly we learned of our friend the Judge and his distaste for our passing abilities. But once all was said and done we were basically let off with a warning and no horrible reprocussions from discrepencies with some of our papers (read, not thrown in jail!) my insurance card was expired, oops)), or lack there of (Who carries registration? I've never been asked until then!) Soon we're gassed up and on our way.

A few towns down, we run into construction zone number 487 of the trip. This time they are working on their idea of asphalt. Which appears to be a tarred surface, littered with small gravel, smashed down, then oiled over. We came upon a section just laid down with gravel and had to be escorted through, thankfully the lady conducting at that end told us to move to the front.


The rest of the day was spent riding, into the darkness... We suited up a bit warmer and pushed on. I soon realized it was many more hours to Denver than I had anticipated, I was cold, tired, really sore from being tense while hitting 80+mph twisties around the mountains in the dark and not being able to see well, passing a Doe standing on the side of the road... I really wanted to stop for the night. It was almost 9:30 already when we pulled up into Kremmling, CO. I found a quaint (and well ONLY, apparently) hotel just down the main road. It was one of those old timey deals with shared bathroom and all. Although our unit did have a very tiny bathroom of it's own which seemed like an afterthought and converted from what used to be a closet. I ate a bit and almost immediately was out once my head hit the pillow by just after 10. I didn't awaken until almost 9 the next morning when we were up and running only an hour later.

Day 7 - the sandtrap

We awoke to a brisk morning. Remember I mentioned the chilly riding the previous night? Well, I think our seats can attest to what the night was like, as they are frosted over.



Gassed up and rolling again, finally before noon :) And the scenery starts getting better again.


We soon run into construction zone #692.


There wasn't a single road we traveled that wasn't under contruction at some point. Often we were made to stop and wait just like in this instance. There were 2 or 3 similiar in about a 20 mile stretch of this road. Even a rather twisty section I had been looking forward to since finding this road on the map was tore up and packed with slow moving traffic. At least it was pretty.


A ways on down the road, we were in a small town which seemed to cater to skiers and the like. Very pretty, piney area. You could just SMELL IT in the air, very dense... A beside the road photo op spied a helicopter checking out the mountain side. Possibly scouting ski runs?


The road kept getting prettier and prettier, then I noticed something interesting on the gps ahead, woohoo! I had no idea what exactly was ahead, but I know now this was the best part of the entire trip for me. For what did I see?


That's right. Some of the gnarliest switchback hairpins I've ever (ok, never!) seen. I was quite sure we might run into some, but had no idea what it would be like as I only scouted this road from google earth. But it was simply amazing. I was just railing through there. Knee out, a cheek off the seat, foot scraping, leaned out as hard as I could push it over, on the throttle hard, rear tire spinning slightly... each corner laughing manically in my helmet. I often turned around and did it several corners again while waiting for Pengaru to catch up. This is what the entire trip was for. This made it all worth it... until...

I ran through a section, slowed down, waiting, waiting... waiting. Hmm nowhere to pull over back there to take pics. Turn around again, back to that last hairpin to find...


Woops.


The turn that got him.

I pull up with a 'wtf?' look on my face I'm sure, kind of already knowing what happened... He says something about going in too hot, bike pushing and throwing the corner away to get on the brakes. Apparently did a good enough job as it was almost stopped by the time it hit the sand and just sort of fell over after kicking the rear end out a bit. We later talked about having read TOTW and at least having an idea of how to handle it and what should be happening... Good thing... Anyways I think after his description all I could muster is something like "Well don't do that!" about him running off the road :) No real damage, no harm, no foul. Lesson learned. Slow in, fast out I mention and we're under way again.

Several more times I push it through more hairpins only to reverse and do it again, and again, until we once again run into contrusction on the very last hairpin at the bottom of the valley, where we wait for the single lane to clear and discuss the last few miles. Coming to the conclusion that I loved it and lived for it, and he hated it and prefer the high speed stuff. Hmmph. We also pause in a few spots for more beautiful pics.


Awhile down the road we finally meet up with I70 and are soon making our way into the Denver area. Not at all what I picutured. I imagined a SLC sort of place surrounded by large mountains nestled in a vast valley. But it simply just opens up and spills right into the upper plains. The only mountains being to the west. Bummer.


It's also getting increasingly warm. Almost uncomfortably so. Especially in full thick leathers. Oh well. The rest of the day is just average super slab riding and we're plauged by anxiousness to just make it home now. We ride into the dark with Topeka, KS as the goal, we arrive at about 9pm. I'm tired after near 12 hours in the saddle. But have time to get online on his Zaurus for a few and get something to eat, we stay up a bit chatting about the days riding and our different ideals of sportbike riding as noted based on the days experience. I don't roll over to try and sleep until 1 am, we're also back in our timezone and have lost an hour to boot.

BTW, far eastern CO and west KS is pretty boring, already feels like we're in the midwest for sure.


Oh, and PS, in case you're wondering what this section of 40 looks like? Have a look see. I'm glad I spotted this road and we got to ride it. If you live anywhere near this, go give it a go. I also wanted to try 34 which runs north of it and picks up on 40 about 20 miles west of this section and loops way above it. Similiar sections of switchbacks but more of them. Anyways, enjoy:

Day 8 - The return home

Up early via the alarm clock, we're showered and ready to go. Upon entering I70, we come across a wet road surface, hmm... the sky to the north is quite dark. I had just got done watching the weather and saw nothing of this! Oh well. It also soon becomes apparent that this section of 70 is tolled, argh! We pull over to find change/cash and we don't have much at all. We had just been gassing up with credit cards and such. A friendly highway patrol guy pulls up to see if we're ok, and mentioned we're looking for toll cash. He tells us that it's a ticket and go booth ahead and we can pay by card at the other end, which is only to Kansas City and can pay by card. But by that time I realize I did have enough for myself at least for the other end, and we're off and riding in a few minutes.

Not long after we roll into Kansas City.


We follow the signs continuing on I70, until I soon realize this will take us all the way to Saint Louis and probably 400 miles out of the way! I quickly punch in the home address into the Garmin and wait forever for it to plot the fastest route. Pengaru is already gone and weaving through traffic and I have to haul ass to catch him. It sees a route, we have to turn off to a loop highway and back over to 35 northeast back to I80 eventually, but of course miss the turn catching up, and it's recalcutlating, sloooooooowly... I swear I sometimes really loathe the things intricasies and it's had me missing turns several times as it seems off on how soon it warns sometimes. Oh, 'turn right, half mile ahead' as I'm passing the exit... and then it recalculate for 45 more seconds... Anyways...

I catch up and get us pulled over and explain I'm an idiot and we need to turn around, so after some negotiating some side streets and filling up with fuel, we're back on I70 the other direction and get loaded onto I35. Back to Des Moines where we'll pick up I80 again, an all too familiar and boring road we're not looking forward to taking.

The day increasingly becomes warmer, and once we're back heading east on I80, the winds are blaring away and we're struggling to keep the bikes going straight down the road. This continues all afternoon all the way through Iowa. At a gas stop a ways before Davenport, I can't take it anymore and change into jeans and store the leather pants under the net on the rear seat. The wind continues but at least my legs aren't swimming in sweat. It continues until we reach the Mississippi again as the sun is starting to get lower and the temp eases a bit, as does the wind.

The rest of the trip down I88 (tollway, ugh, but I have IPASS attributed to my bike plate) was mostly at 50-60mph one lane construction zones. I'm so bored I'm riding side saddle or up on the tank half the way.

By the time we reach the last big toll plaza, which has two regular express lanes, I'm off and running. Too close to home to wait for Pengaru, so I gas it and get into flowing with traffic. Since it's a weekday and around 6pm, it's quite heavy. The rest of the 10 mile ride to my exit is under construction as well, but all lanes are open but restricted by barriers. So fighting with the cages I slowly ease my way forward through traffic taking each and every small break to get ahead. I'm too anxious and close to home to deal with going too slow stuck behind a semi. Finally I hit my exit and spill out onto the surface roads and am soon home. I feel relief as I pull into my driveway and remove my lid for the last time.

The final installment - Review

While it had it's moments, both up and down, it's still been a great trip. I really got down and focused on some negative aspects and probably annoyed the hell out of Pengaru (something I know he's not new to). While it was very detrimental to our timeline and what we would get to see and ride, I didn't actually sweat the slowdowns too much, at least not as much as I'd expect of myself. While there was always the possibility of just saying screw it, and riding on alone, I'm glad we stuck together through it all and were patient with each other in all situations.

While riding alone does have it's advantages, especially to pace, and not conflicting ideals and personalilities, it's not all it's cracked up to be either.

There wouldn't have been the support for breakdowns. Be it financial or physical, and especially mental. It's nice to have someone else to keep you in check. It's easy to lose it and blow an entire situation out of control, no matter who you are and what's going on.

It's impossible to judge if road trips are better alone or with others, but I can say for sure that at least in this case, it was absolutely vital. So many thanks to Pengaru for the companionship, patience, and support. And thanks to those who have followed it and helped make it happen (glancing at rear tire...).

To summarize. Let's run down a list.





And the resulting rear tire? man... which was about half worn when I left, and I even sanded it round with no cupping or flat spot before leaving.