Today

You may have noticed that the posts are titled with very vague headings. This is due to the fact that I can't remember what day it is, what month it is, or what year it is. I only know that we are heading north.





Today was crazy fast. We left Lender, WY and headed for Grand Tetons National Park. To get there, we took some super fast (65 mph) gravel roads, with the occasional cow in the middle. It was fun.





Apparently, the video I was trying to upload isn't going to work, so you'll just have to take my word for the cows. They must be the dumbest animals alive. They wait until you are right on top of them and then turn right in front of you. Makes for some interesting riding at times.

After a quick stop in the Grand Tetons National Park, we quickly made our way to Idaho, via what would end up being the scariest road of the entire trip. The road itself was a great single lane dirt road that would have been a blast, had there not been so many cars speeding at us from the other direction. I was personally almost killed by a white Subaru wagon "drifting" around a corner. It was not a fun forty miles into Idaho. We ended up staying in Ashton, ID for the night.

The other day

The other day we left Gunnison at around ten or so, after I had my prescriptions filled at the local Walmart. We might get an early start one of these days, just not today. Once I had my drugs, we set off on the route.

The route took us over some of the cool mountain passes that we have come to expect in Colorado. So much fun racing along on these old dirt and gravel roads! We rode through some of the prettiest country that we have seen so far, including aspen trees. Very beautiful.

At about five or so, we had a decision to make. We could either go on and try to make it to Steamboat Springs, or we could stay in Kremmlin, CO for the night. Feeling good, we kept right on going. It was a fun section of road, with steep mountain roads and fast, smooth gravel.

We ended up staying in a hotel in Steamboat Springs, CO, after 300+ miles of dirt for the day. It poured when we entered town, so camping was out. The name of the hotel escapes me, but the man behind the counter will be forever embedded in my brain. He was an older Swiss gentleman who owned the hotel with his wife. His accent was so thick that I could only understand every other word, but his laugh was infectious. I am sure he was probably making fun of us and then laughing like he had just told a joke, but it was hard to say for sure. Either way, I was laughing.

The next day we took off for Wyoming. The first twenty miles or so were spent on the mindless pavement, but after that, things got interesting. The dirt roads were fine at the beginning, but then we got to sections that had been rained on and they were super slick. I rode a bit tentatively, but Doc was an animal. He simply twisted the throttle harder as he approached the mud. It was fun to watch.

Eventually, we crossed the border into Wyoming. We took a break in Rawlins(?) that ended up being quite a break. In all, we sat there for three hours. Let me explain. First of all, I tried to get my GPS to work, and in doing so, I ruined it and lost all of my maps and routes. This is not good, considering that without them, the trip is done. After several hours of messing around with it, I figured out a very time-consuming way to fix the problem.

After the problem was solved, I went to get on my bike and it wouldn't start. Apparently, you can't leave the key on for three hours and expect the battery to last. Once we figured out that I am an idiot, I went off on Doc's bike to find a replacement battery (brave of Doc to let me take his BMW, considering what I had just done). Three shops later, I had a new battery in hand and headed back to the truck stop where I am sure we were being watched. We threw the battery in and fired up the bike. It felt good to actually be moving again.

Using a somewhat handicapped GPS, we set out on the route. The roads were fast desert roads, that were incredibly slick when wet. On this section, the bracket for one of my boxes snapped apart. I had to strap the box to the bag on the back of the bike.

During this section, I may have ridden through cow crap, that may or may not hit Doc in the face. He says it did, I say that there were a lot of cows on the scene. Here is his evidence:

We made it to Lender, WY for the night at a great RV park. A nice guy named Justin welded up my bracket for me and I was good to go another day.

Day...?

So I have officially lost count of the number of days that we have been on the ride. This is pathetic. Oh well, chalk it up to being drugged up.

Today was an amazing day on the bikes. Beautiful country, fun roads, perfect weather. What more could you ask for? We road for nine hours and ended our day in Steamboat Springs, CO. We are making great time.

Yesterday, I didn't post the following video of the storm that we rode through. In it, you will see a close up of Doc. He and I are kneeling under a gigantic rock overhang to stay dry. Too funny. If you listen closely, you can hear the thunder cracking. It was very scary.

Coughing

Today was an interesting day on the bikes. We started off in the desert of southern Colorado, once again battling the sun. The route meandered through this horribly sandy section, where I proceeded to fall several times. Luckily, no injuries, other than the one to my pride.

After a couple of hours, we climbed up into the mountains on some super fast gravel roads. We crossed over some high mountain passes and the day was going well. Then it happened, as it always does in the Rockies in the summertime. The clouds rolled in, the thunder roared and the lightning lit up the gray sky. I have never heard such loud thunder nor witnessed lightning so close. I was very nervous. We were climbing higher and higher and right in the direction of the storm. Before we knew it, hail was pounding us and the rain was drenching every thing we had. We made a v-line for a rock outcropping with an overhang and took shelter from the amazing storm. I shot some video that I will attempt to post tomorrow sometime.

After the rain and hail finally quit, we hit the road fast and hard to make it to Gunnison, Colorado for the night. I went to the emergency room to get some advice on how to deal with my cough. They drew my blood, took chest x-rays, hooked me up to a defibulator (I think), and then gave me some drugs. I am hopeful that my cough will eventually stop. We will see.

Videos

Here are some videos from today's ride. I will add details for the day tomorrow, after I have had the chance to process all the events that took place, including shooting at street signs, while drinking beer.

Here is Doc's bike in the truck:











Ok, so here's the whole story....
Doc and I were riding through some beautiful mountain passes when suddenly Doc pulled over. We couldn't quite see what was happening or where the thunk thunk was coming from on his bike. Whil inspecting the chain, I noticed that one of the links was bent. Upon further inspection, we realized that the link was actually cracked. It wasn't going to last long.

We found the widest spot we could in the one lane dirt road and set about trying to fix it. Those of you that know about motorcyles know that the only way to fix a broken chain is to use a chainbreaking tool to take the broken link out and replace it with a master link. No problem, or so we thought. Doc had some master links with him, so we thought it was an easy fix. Apparently however, the master link actually has to match up with the broken chain in order to work. After realizing that none of the several links he had would work, we had to devise a new plan.

Being 54 miles from the nearest town, up a one lane dirt road in the Rockies isn't the easiest situation to get out of. At first we thought I should just ride into town and pick up a new master link, or chain at the loca farm supply store, but that thought went out the window once we realized that they would all be closed for the night. After thinking about all the possibilities, we decided to tow the bike into town, get a room for the night, and fix the chain in the morning.



There were a few problems with this plan. First of all, towing a bike 54 miles on an undulating dirt road at that altitude would be a struggle at the very least. When you strap one bike to the other and attempt to pull it, it rarely goes smoothly. As the bike being tows jerks to a start, it pulls the bike up front all over the road, especially when it is a fully loaded BMW 800. We quickly realized that this plan may not work.



As we slowed to a stop to reevaluate, I lost my balance and fell over, breaking my turn signal yet again. This is where the "Three Musketeers" entered our lives and saved our day with elegance and grace...or at least confidence. Corey, TJ, and Mike jumped out of a passing pickup that was loaded down with more stuff in the back then one can possibly imagine. It looked as if they were helping their friends move or something. They had several coolers, tires, bags, tool boxes, tackle boxes, more tires, and a dirt bike, all thrown into the back of a Nissan Titan pickup bed. It was an insane amount of stuff. So, you can imaging our surprise when they offered to throw Doc's bike into the back of the truck and take it down the mountain to Alamosa, CO.

Corey was clearly the ring leader of the musketeers. Tires, tools, bags, and everything else was soon flying out of the truck bed and onto the ground. Corey was on a mission to help us out. Eventually, he had a "space" available for Doc's bike. I use the term "space" generously here. It looked like it might be enough room for a Vespa, but certainly not for a BMW 800GS. There was one minor concern that Doc and I had, and that was how we were going to get the bike up into the truck. Corey had a plan. He produced a slippery, grimy 2x6 and claimed that it was the ramp. We were a bit nervous at the thought of pushing a fully loaded, large dual-sport up this ramp in the first place, but when Corey also produced a "step" for Doc to use to get himself up in the truck bed, in the form of an empty cooler with wheels, we were flat out scared. Doc expressed his aprehension with Corey, but he was confident that it would work and soon we were pushing the bike into the back of the truck. We made it without a hitch, just like our leader said we would.

After the bike was loaded into the back, we had to figure out a way to a) secure everything and b) somehow tie Doc's bike down without destroying it. Once again, Corey came through. As you can see from the picture above, everything, including the spare tires, made it into the truck. Amazing.

Corey, TJ, and Mike were having a good old time driving down the mountain. They were drinking beer, smoking cigerettes, and taking shots of some other kind of alcohol. I felt bad for Doc having to sit in the back of the truck, but what could we do? We were now at the mercy of our new friends.

We eventutually made it to open farm fields and wide gravel/mud roads. I thought we might slow down a bit, but Corey and company had other plans. They proceeded to speed up and hit massive puddles along the way. Apparently the alcohol had officially kicked in. Just when I thought the day couldn't get any stranger, it did.

As I was following the truck, I began to hear what sounded like gunshots. Now, obviously this couldn't be...or so I thought. All of a sudden, I could see Corey's hand hanging out of the window of his truck with a pistol. Sure enough, as he was driving intoxicated, he was firing off rounds at the passing signs. Crazy.

After a bit, we pulled over and regrouped. I could tell by the look on Doc's face that it had been an interesting ride. We discussed what we should do, and ended up deciding on stopping by Corey's Grandma's house for a quick visit. Why not? At this point, Doc and I were at their mercy. The funny thing about the whole Grandma visit, was that he hadn't actually seen her in quite some time, like 12 years. I couldn't believe what was happening. He visited for about twenty minutes or so, while Doc and I waited patiently outside, with TJ and Mike. When we set out to leave finally, Corey was crying. It was a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

The dim lights of Alamosa, CO were a welcoming sight as the sun went down. Corey and his crew were amazing, despite the strangeness of the whole situation. They were kind enough to drive us from hotel to hotel in search of what ended up being the last room available in town. The Colorado Farm Bureau annual meeting was being held in town that weekend. What are the chances of that? We thanked them several times, gave them a little spending money for their troubles and off they went. What a day.

Days Two and Three

Day Two

So, Doc and I made it over to the Continental Divide Trail via our own off-road adventure today. It was hot and dry and the sun beat down on us, attempting to melt our bums to our seats. Every time we got on our bikes, it burned.

The ride itself went through some pretty cool country, including an old ghost town called Mogollon, NM. It was great. There were lots of old buildings and even some people lounging around in their old cabins. We didn't have time to check out the old mining museum, or any other stuff.

After the ghost town, it was a lot of hot weather and gravel roads. We joined the actual route at about 1:30 or so. As we rounded the bend to hook up with the route, we came across six other riders that were doing the Continental Divide Route. Most of them were from the Phoenix area and were only riding up to Colorado Springs, before turning around and heading back to work. Poor guys.

Our one goal was to make it to Pie Town, NM by 3:00. The cafe in town serves the best pie around, or so we've been told, and we needed to get some. We raced down the gravel to the highway and to pie heaven before the rest of the riders could take the best of the sweets.

The owner of the Pie Town Cafe is a very nice woman who entertained us with tales of other riders on the route and of the nasty roads that we would see shortly. We should have taken her advice to stick around until the rain passed, as we would find out just how nasty the roads really can be. About a half an hour after leaving the cafe, it began to rain and the roads turned into a disgusting, sloppy mess. It was impossible to keep both wheels on the ground. Actually, Doc didn't have a problem. I did. Luckily, Doc didn't have his camera handy.

We eventually landed in Grants, NM for the day and ended up sleeping at the rodeo grounds. Not on a nice grassy spot, but on the actual steel grating for the bleachers. Crazy.

Day Three

We left the comforts of our metal be fairly early in the morning. The first stop was a Walmart to purchase a pillow. For some reason, I never pack a pillow. I end up stuffing a stuff sack with clothes or other items, creating an incredibly uncomfortable pillow and one that is difficult to actually use. After making the best purchase ever, we hit the road. We had some GPS issues, but worked them out after a bit.

Once we were on the route, we were running through the desert. It was fast and fun. Check out the following video:

We opened and closed several cattle guards and muscled our way through sand and rocks to eventually land in Cuba for a break. Dark clouds were rolling in, but we wanted to make time so we took off, despite warnings of more impassible roads when wet. As soon as we hit dirt, we started to climb. The road was by far one of the most challenging that I have ever ridden. It was rutted out with large rocks and loose stones to contend with. This, coupled with the fact that it was incredibly narrow, made for an interesting ride. We had a blast.

Once we were on top of the ridge, the slow going roads turned into high speed gravel. We were making good time on the route, but the sun was quickly disappearing. As luck would have it, we ran into a local guy who was heading home. He said that we could follow him off the mountain and into town, so we jumped at the chance. We enjoyed talking with him and he recommended a hotel for us for the night. After we checked in, it was lights out.

Short Video

Here is a short video of the weather tonight, the night before we hit the trail.

The Journey Begins

I packed my bike and left the doctoral residency with sweat dripping off my face and my lungs burning Let me explain. For the past two weeks, I have developed a cough that just won't quit. I have taken cough medicine, cold medicine and eaten enough cough drops to last a lifetime. Hopefully the cough will go away soon.

The original plan was to drive from Phoenix to the Mexican border today (Friday), but plans have changed. Because of my cold and the heat, not too mention the trouble at the border, we are bypassing this section of the original route and creating our own. The new plan is to leave Globe, AZ early in the morning and head due east into New Mexico. Once we cross the border, we are going to pick up some dirt roads and begin working our way to the Continental Divide route.

This new plan guarantees us more dirt anyway. The original route is mostly pavement for the first hundred miles, and our new route is mostly dirt. This should improve the fun factor. The ultimate goal tomorrow is to reach the infamous Pie Town Cafe and the delicious pie that awaits the weary traveler.

Starting tomorrow, I will try to post pictures and videos as they are taken. Don't forget to follow the SPOT link in one of the June posts to see where we are and where we have been.

Riding on the Sun

So, I realize that this is supposed to be a blog about a very specific event (that being the ride up the Continental Divide from Mexico to Canada) but I have to report on my long, hot ride from Las Vegas to Phoenix for a week of coursework (I am working on my Phd).

I said goodbye to my lovely wife at six-thirty and headed out to pack up my moto. This in itself is no easy task when the temperature is already 94 degrees in the parking garage. Dripping with sweat, I proceeded to cram all of my belongings into the trusty metal boxes and screeched my way out onto the Vegas Strip one last time.

As I pulled up to the first stop light, I was looking around watching people admire me (or at least that's what I like to think the pointing and smiling means), when suddenly the light turns green. Great, right? Not so much. I tried to accelerate out of a stand still, when suddenly the bike jerked and jolted to a halt. Apparently I was still in third gear. No big deal, until the bike wouldn't stop and the pointing became very specific.

Eventually the bike started and I hit the open road south. It was a fairly uneventful ride through blistering heat and boring countryside. I detoured around the Hoover Dam, adding 23 miles to my route, but saving six hours.

When I reached the sign that read 22 miles to Phoenix, I let out my own private triumphant cheer in my steamy helmet. This proved to be a bit premature. As the bike slowed to a snail's pace, I carefully balanced myself on the two melting tires and prayed that the traffic wouldn't last.

Unfortunately, God must have been busy because for the last 22 miles into Phoenix and through the Valley of the Sun, I lost twelve pounds of water weight. Inching along on the cluttered highway provides no wind to cool one down on a motorcycle. I kept looking at my watch and wondering if the temperature gauge that was reading 108.5 degrees was off by two or three degrees like the manual says is possible. Does it really matter?

I made it to Phoenix, right on time, or at least I thought. It turns out that Phoenix is on Mountain Standard Time (which I knew), but doesn't observe daylight savings time. This meant that I was an hour early. No big deal. At least I am not lying on the side of the road somewhere baking in the hot sun like the dead rattlesnake I saw on the way down. Could be worse I guess.