"Pictures to explain as to why you should tour the Alps on a motorcycle before you die."

That's the description coined by American traveller, Brian Wilson, who snapped these two photos, during a motorcycle trip through the Alpine regions of Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and Austria last June.


The St Gothard Road was built between 1820 and 1830. It crosses a central massif which has eight large glaciers.


The Grimsel Pass Descent is full of sharp turns.

The group rode 4,000km through the Alpine regions of Germany, Switzerland, Italy and Austria.

Read the rest of this story at The Electric New Paper...
http://newpaper.asia1.com.sg/guide/story/0,4136,152657,00.html

Labels: Ride Reports

A few weeks ago, several friends and I rode our motorcycles through Yosemite National Park. I just wanted to tell you a little but about it, in case you're thinking of doing the same.

We travelled from the Temecula area in Southern California. We spent a total of three days, with one day riding up, one day riding through Yosemite, and the last day riding home.

To sum it up, Yosemite makes for some very enjoyable riding. Yosemite National Park is mostly inaccessible by car or motorcycle. They say that 95% of the park is "designated wildnerness", and as such, you'd have to hike to see it all. But fortunately for us, the pavement gods provided just enough passable road for our Harleys to travel down allowing us to enjoy some spectacular sights.

Also, this was Summer when we visited, so there was lots of traffic. Average speeds range from 5-40mph; you won't be able to lean into the twisties, but at least you'll be able to hear your Hogtunes speakers loud and clear. You just have to keep your eyes open for cars stopping suddenly in the middle of the road everytime a bunny hops by.

We didn't pack a lunch, instead we planned to get some grub at The Lodge down in the Yosemite Valley. We didn't find The Lodge, but we did find a different lodge, and they had a bar/lounge area that was largely lacking in customers. We could get cold-cut sandwiches and mixed drinks. That was good enough.

There were lots of other bikers riding through. We passed several groups of motorcycles riding in packs. I actually took notice to see if they were Harleys, metric cruisers, dual sports, Beemers, and I have to say Harleys are pretty popular at the park. My guess its because the riding is pretty slow there.

On the first day of our ride, we all rode up US 395 to the town of Lee Vining, on the eastern side of the park. We stayed overnight at the Gateway Motel. The Gateway is not cheap, and it's pretty much a rat hole in comparison to places like Motel 6 and Super 8. But it does offer a great view of Mono Lake, it's right in the middle of town, and there just aren't many accomodations in Lee Vining anyways. We ate dinner at Bodie Mike's BBQ across the street. We had a great time sucking down baby backs, jack-and-cokes, and cracking jokes. Only problem is that the bar closes at 10:00pm.

On the second day we took off for Yosemite. We took Hwy 120, which runs up and over Tioga Pass. The ride through Tioga Pass is some great riding. Snow capped peaks, sweeping curves, lakes and streams. It's one of the highlights of riding to Yosemite.

There are several places in Yosemite to pull over and enjoy the sights. We pretty much stopped at most of them. The ride through the Yosemite Valley is a grand sight to behold, with fields of green grass contrasted against the gray granite walls of towering cliffs. Photographs just can't capture the magnitude of it all.

Make sure to take the ride to Glacier Point. Here is where you'll get the best view of Half Dome. It costs you $10.00 to take your motorcycle into Yosemite, and this is where you'll get your $10.00 worth.

Leaving the park, we headed into Oakhurst where we planned to overnight, before heading home the next day.

If I was to ride through Yosemite again, I'm not sure I'd do much different. I'm not big into camping, and while I do enjoy short afternoon hikes, I still prefer to ride my motorcycle. But if you have never ridden a motorcycle through Yosemite, it's something that needs to be done before you die.

If you're wondering about where to buy gasoline in Yosemite, don't worry about it. You can fill your tank in Lee Vining and get to Oakhurst all in one tank, and still ride all of the asphalt there. I can't remember my mileage after I got to Oakhurst, but it was something like 150 miles. The riding is mostly easy; you're going to get great gas mileage. But for the record, there is a gas station at the intersection of Big Oak Flat Rd and Tioga Pass Rd, as well as a station at Wawona.

Labels: Ride Reports, Yosemite National Park

I came back home from the 46th Annual Yuma Prison Run early this evening after a weekend of fun hanging out with friends.

The Yuma Prison Run is a popular rally among the motorcycle clubs in Southern California, Southern Nevada and Arizona. It's organized by the Norwalk Motorcycle Club and benefits a host of children's charities, mainly dealing with burn victims.

The name Yuma Prison Run come from the parade of motorcycles that runs from the Yuma County Fairgrounds to the old Territorial Prison in downtown Yuma. Some 3,000 to 4,000 bikes were expected to participate in the parade. I rode in it last year, but didn't do it this year. I'd guess that about 25% of the total people registered for the Yuma Prison Run actually rode in the parade. The other 75% partied on.

Friday evening a storm blew in. Some people said that winds blew as much as 70mph. Dust and debris flew everywhere, some rain fell, and some tents collapsed. But Saturday was beautiful, with temps in the mid-80s and bright blue sunshine.

I didn't watch any of the biker games nor the acrobatics of the Victor McLaglen Motor Corps like I did last year.

I did, however, spend some time in the downtown area of Yuma. Lutes Casino is a cool place to hang out in. It was supposedly a casino in its early days, but now is a bar and grill. There wasn't much shopping taking place downtown this weekend, but it was filled with bars and bikes.

Saturday night the fairgrounds was filled to capacity as the band played, bikers danced, and the Norwalk Motorcycle Club announced its tally of money raised for charity.

The ride back to California along Interstate 8 was exceptionally pleasant, considering that stretch of road between Yuma and Ocotillo is known for strong gusts of blowing sand. After arriving home, I slept until I wrote this.

See all of my photos here...
http://www.flickr.com/photos/..../72157600112360352/

Labels: Arizona Motorcycle Rallies, Ride Reports, Yuma Prison Run

The Coronado Trail (US 191) in Arizona is a road that has intrigued me the past month, after learning about it.


Road Trip America published a couple of good webpages about this highway, including the following paragraph...

The Federal Highway Administration considers this drive to be the curviest road in the nation. There are nearly 450 switchbacks, (many marked at 10 mph) along the route. There is a 6000-foot change of elevation, starting from the topography of the Upper Sonoran Desert to near-alpine meadows high in the White Mountains. The route provides access to the Apache Sitgreaves National Forest.

Labels: Arizona, Ride Reports

Saturday before Easter and I wanted to go riding.

I was supposed to stay home and be a good son-in-law, as my wife's mother was here for the weekend. Nah! I'm going riding.

As many as six of us said they'd show up at the staging point to go riding, but as it turned out, only two of us did.

One guy got reprimanded by his wife for having ridden too much already the past several months. He had to stay home.

Two others were no shows. Not sure what happened.

The last guy said that it was too cold to ride. It was 53° when he said this, with an expected high of 69° in the afternoon, and that's too cold to ride?

The two of us that showed up talked about where to ride. He said he didn't care, anywhere was good. He just wanted to ride. That sounded cool to me.

So when it's cold and cloudy, where do you ride to? The mountains of course!

As we headed out, there was heavy mist in the air, but no rain. The road was wet where we started out. Water droplets collecting on my windshield had grown to such a point that it was difficult for me to judge the curves ahead. I had to pull over and wipe them off.

We went up Highway 371 into Anza, and found warmer temperatures and SUNSHINE! Basically, we had risen above the cloud cover. We also found many more bikers. It seems they made the same call as I.

We made the climb up the mountains to Paradise Corners, right at the junction of Highway 371 and 74, and continued to find bikers everywhere, and still sunshine. Then we rode highway 74 down into Palm Desert, and it got so warm, that we had to pull over and take off our jackets. We had to put on sun screen too.

From there, we hopped on to Interstate 10 and headed west towards Highway 62. Oh man! The head wind was blowing like heck. This was the usual head wind you get when riding through Palm Springs, except it was a little more fierce than usual. The upper and lower fairing on my Ultra Classic acted like a sail, catching all the wind and slowing me down to about 70mph at full throttle, in top gear. I bumped it down to 4th, and tried to get myself up to 75mph.

We jumped on Highway 62 heading north. At this point, the wind was hitting us from the side. At times we were angled over at 45° riding straight ahead. We finally got to the hills and were free of the wind.

We rolled into Pioneertown, and found the place packed with motorcycles. I never saw so many bikes at Pioneertown before. Some kind of "biker band" was playing, and just about every biker in Yucca Valley was there.

On Easter Saturday, this is where bikers go: Pioneertown.

We bellied up the to bar and had us some drinks and chow while we chatted away for a couple of hours trying to talk over the band. All in all I had a great time riding and hanging out.

Moral of this story: When the weather is cold and cloudy in your neighborhood, get on your bike and go find great weather. Riders go riding not just to enjoy good weather, but to seek it out!

Labels: Ride Reports, Riding Weather

Yesterday (Oct 27) I attended my first mission of the Patriot Guard Riders. Here's how it went.

The PGR is a group of people who provide the families of fallen soliders some peace and protection from protestors during the funeral process. It started because of a religious group called "Westboro Baptist Church" who sought to heckle these military funerals for the sake of gaining national attention and increasing their membership and finances. CNN has an article that goes in depth on this.

The PGR doesn't invite themselves to these funerals. Rather, they get permission from the families. They watch for reports of fallen soldiers, and get in touch with military personnel to verify that a death occured. They ask an officer to offer their services to the surviving family. If the family accepts, the PGR springs into action. If the family refuses, the PGR stands down.

Yesterday was a mission for fallen soldier PFC Jose Roberto Perez killed in action in Iraq.

We all staged at a shopping center parking lot in Ontario, CA. Folks came riding in on bikes decorated in US and PGR flags. Most of them were veterans, a few were non-veterans. A couple of them didn't own motorcycles, but offered their cars and trucks as "PGR Support Vehicles" that carried water, chairs, extra flags, etc.

At the start of each mission you are given a ride pin. Some of these guys have collected 30-40 pins. You also contribute a $1.00 to the mission and you get a dog tag containing the name of the fallen solider.

Prior to the ride, they went over the details of the mission. A guy named "Winger" lead this mission. He said that he visited some of the web-forums where "the uglies" do their planning and learned that they planned to be at this funeral to protest. He gave instructions on how to create a human barrier against "the uglies", guys would stand side-by-side with arms locking with one another, in a non-violent stance.

He said it was absolutely important not to retaliate against "the uglies" because they would be brandishing camera equipment in hopes of catching members of the PGR in the act of fighting.

We put our kickstands up at 10:00am and headed out to St. George Catholic Church in Ontario, CA. We lined up in front of the church entrance and stood with our flags while the casket was carried in. Once the procession entered the church, the PGR fell back and returned to their bikes.

Then we waited for the service to finish. Most of the guys stood and chatted with each other, and with the Ontario police. About an hour-and-15-minutes later, we lined back up in front of the church for the casket to be carried out.

Then we followed the hearse and limousine to Bellevue Memorial Park in Ontario. The bikes rolled by the interment area and parked at a fair distance away. We carried our flags and line ourselves up around the burial location to provide a wall that would shield the service.

As it would turn out, "the uglies" didn't show up.

But we remained there anyways to complete the mission. Leaders of this PGR mission offered a gift to the grieving family, and then the PGR fell out and returned to their bikes.

Here are some photos. Vist my Flickr photo set for more photos.

Me, at the staging area. And no, that's not my purple bike behind me.


Lined up in front of St. George Catholic Church


A PGR support vehicle


PGR bikes parked at Bellevue Memorial Cemetery

Labels: Patriot Guard Riders, Ride Reports

This morning I returned back home from my first Iron Butt ride. It was the Saddle Sore 1,000. See my original article announcing the ride and route.

We completed the ride in 20 hours, which is probably too much time considering the route was all slab. We left at 6:00am Saturday morning, and hoped to return home around 11:00pm that night. But we got back home 2:00am instead.

There were four of us in all that rode together. We started out with a modest speed, between 70-75mph. But as the day went on, our speed increased. In the last 50 miles we were going 100mph steady.

Our problem was spending too much time not riding. We spent about an hour for breakfast at IHOP in Victorville, and about 45 minutes for lunch at Quizno's in Flagstaff. Most of the gas stops went about 20 minutes, while another went about 30 minutes. If anything, we didn't have any problems staying awake, perhaps due to spending plenty of time resting.

But we got lucky! Everything I read on the weather forecast said we would encounter thunder storms and heavy downpours along I-40 through California and Arizona. But we didn't hit any rain. There was certainly rain all around us, just not on the Interstate, while we were on it. The traffic in Phoenix wasn't that bad at all.

One weird thing though. Somewhere after the half-way point of the ride, my arms felt like they were on backwards, as if my hands and arms were reversed. I think it was having them anchored to the handle bars for so long, not moving them around, that caused my brain to lose its bearings on where my arms were. I kept wiggling my fingers to reorient myself.

Still tired right now, even after sleeping until 11:00am.

Labels: Iron Butt Assocation, Ride Reports

A few weeks ago, I attended the 29th Annual Redwood Run. I'm late on reporting it, but the entire road trip took 12 days, because I opted to spend another week riding around the States of California, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho. I'll go over this extended ride in a later post.

If I could sum up the Redwood Run in a handful of words...

trees
music
beer
partying
food
boobies

It's often described as the "last of the old school biker rallies". I suppose it could be, though I've never attended any bike rallies back in the day. But it certainly was fun.

For those who've never attended, it's largely an outdoor concert, because much of the action is focused at the concert stage, and the music plays most of the time. But they take breaks for the biker games and the wet t-shirt contest. The South Fork Eel River provides swimming, and the acres of grass and trees provide camping.

Moreover, the whole event is hosted on private property owned by the local Kiwanis Club chapter. Meaning, anything goes. No cops, no problem.

Historically, the Redwood Run was a "Harley only" event. This year, I'd say just about all bikes were Harleys. Perhaps less than 1 percent of the bikes were something other than HD. I saw some Victorys, some Goldwings, some Yamahas, and some choppers. I even saw a couple sportbikes. In fact, I even rode my Road Star there. No problems.

But the reason why it wasn't a problem is because of the atmosphere. The event wasn't dominated by "rich urban bikers", who might have been disgusted with acts of public titty-sucking and flashing cooches, or to the type of cigarettes being shared with others. Everybody was cool with whatever went on.

But that's not to say the event was lawless. For the most part, people kept things in moderation, and people kept their cool. If all you did was watch the concert from the hill, hang out at your camp spot, and stand in line for a tri-tip sandwich, you didn't see much. But if you mingled with the crowd, and went where the people went, there was plenty to see.

Perhaps if the event became commercialized, and hyped up in the media, such as with Daytona, Sturgis, or Laconia, a different type of "motorcycle enthusiast" might dominate the event, and moods might change.

As for the music, the headlining acts were Vince Neil on Friday, and Foreigner on Saturday. While Dave Mason opened up for Vince Neil, and played his usual collection of hit songs, he was largely boring. Vince Neil definitely had the audience energized, but I found his performance rather "scripted" and uninspiring. Neil actually looked frustrated because his microphone kept screeching out feedback, and you could see him looking over to the stage hands in disgust.

Everyone gathered to hear Foreigner, and they sounded good, but again, uninspiring. I'd have to give my award to Joanna Connor, a blues guitarist/vocalist who absolutely held the audience in awe of her guitar picking skill, and played a gig that felt improvised and fun. You had to stand by the stage to see this woman rock and watch all ten of her fingers working the strings.

The biker games were fun, but probably the only events anyone seemed interested in was the slow race and the weenie bite. The eight-legged race and the water-balloon toss was lame. I didn't know that water-balloon toss was part of an "old school biker rally"! The weenie bite was actually topless, which made for a lot of speculation. One guy stopped his bike below the weenie, while the gal on back fellated the dangling frank to the roar of the audience.

But of course, the wet t-shirt contest probably took the most interest of all. It wasn't much of a wet t-shirt contest because for the most part, there weren't many t-shirts being worn. As soon as a girl got water doused on her, she'd take the shirt off and jiggle her jugs to the audience. Some of them simply had bare chests being doused with water.

If you plan to go to next year's Redwood Run, bring plenty of Mardi Gras beads. They're like money there. Girls will flash their boobies to get them, and guys will trade beer for 'em. Beads were such in high demand, that our club considered setting up a vendor booth just to sell beads. Girls who accumulated lots of beads wore them like a badges of honor.

As for facilities, there are showers there (with hot water), and plenty of porta-potties. I heard that toilet paper supplies ran pretty low by Saturday morning. There's no cell phone coverage there, even though my carrier (Verizon) claimed to have coverage there according to their map. Cingular and Nextel also offered no coverage.

The best way to attend the Redwood Run is to camp at the event. If you plan to rent a room at a nearby motel, you'll have trouble doing so. Motels in nearby towns never have vacancies for this weekend because their owners reserve them for their friends. You'll have to go down to Willits in the south, or Rio Dell in the north to find available rooms. And even then, you'll hate having to ride back to your room at midnight, drunk off of your ass.

We stayed overnight in Willits on Thursday, June 8, the day before the Redwood Run opened. The next morning we rode up to the event and waited in line. We hoped to get there early to get a place near the front of the line. But we ended up way in the back of the line. The reason for wanting to be closest to the front is so that you can claim a good camp site. When the gates open up, there's almost like a scramble into the event, like Oklahoma homesteaders. Claiming a camp site is done by parking your bike there and pitching your tent.

We were worried we'd lose out on a good site. As it turned out, we found a great one, next to the vendors, next to the food, close to the showers, and close to the hill where the concert could be heard. It might have been kinda noisy for sleeping, but it was close to everything, and offered room to manuever your bikes out to do some riding.

Click here to see all of my Redwood Run photos.

Maybe, I'll see you there next year.

Labels: California Motorcycle Rallies, Redwood Run, Ride Reports

Question: What do bikers do for Mothers Day?

Answer: Ride their bikes, of course. Without mothers, though.

Sunday (May 14) four of us did about 200 miles of riding taking us to Pioneer Town, through the Mojave Desert, up Big Bear Mountain, into the alpine scenery of pines and lakes, to the Screamin Chikin, and finally to Tom's Farms.

I met up with Drifter and Big Red at 8:40am on Highway 79, just north of Murrieta, CA. We headed up to Hemet to pick up Doc. From there we continued up the 79 to Interstate 10 east towards Palm Springs.

Just about into Palm Springs, we turned off onto Highway 62 headed north into Yucca Valley. For the most part, Highway 62 is a straight shot taking us from the northern edge of the Colorado Desert up into the mountains and into the Mojave Desert. Once in Yucca Valley, Doc stopped at a liquor store in search of some Red Man chewing tobacco. No luck. We turned left on Pioneer Town Road and followed a twisty road through hills and boulders until we reached Pioneer Town.

Pioneer Town was actually built as a movie set for the old westerns of the 1940s and 1950s. Many of the buildings are still there. The main attraction is Pappy & Harriets, a bar and restaurant known for live band and big burgers. We didn't go in, however. We instead rode on to find the place where I wrecked my first Ultra Classic, last January.

We found the place, at the bottom of a dip with water running across. There was still water running, though not as much as when I wrecked. Big Red actually found the rock where I hit my head, marked by the back streak from my helmet. He also found a couple pieces of my bike still there.

Yeah, that's a photo of me at the place, taken Sunday.

We continued on, taking a road that hooked us up with Highway 247, going north. 247 takes you through some wide open desert and mostly straight road running for miles. We did stop at a place along the highway for a cold drink and some shade. Doc walked in to see if they had some Red Man. He said he would kiss my ass if they didn't, because this was the kind of place that would definitely have it. They didn't have any, and he took back his offer.

We kept going up Highway 247 enjoying miles upon miles of desert scenery and hot temperatures. We came upon Camp Rock Road and turned left. The road ascended up towards the San Bernardino Mountains and connected up with Highway 18. Highway 18 becomes very twisty at this point and temperatures cool down. Suddenly, pine trees start showing up, and the next thing you know you're on top of a mountain.

Highway 18 eventually takes you along Baldwin Lake for a very scenic view and then into Big Bear City and then finally into the town of Big Bear Lake. It was there that we had lunch at this place on the beach. I think it was called "Beach BBQ", they served up some mean double-cheese burgers. Folks here brought their dogs and entertained us by tossing tennis balls into the lake and sending their golden retrievers after them.

Doc stopped in at a gas station and tried to find some Red Man. Still no luck. Big Red found a liquor store nearby, but they didn't have any Red Man either.

We jumped on to Highway 18, which takes you out of Big Bear along the side of the San Bernardino Mountains with a spectacular view of Southern California and twisty winding roads. Doc led us towards Lake Arrowhead and into the tiny town of Blue Jay. He found a gas station and wandered inside in search of Red Man. Nada. We moved on into the town of Twin Peaks and Crestline, finally running along Silverwood Lake, and finally to Interstate 15.

Just before getting onto Interstate 15, we stopped at another gas station. Ahh! Finally, some Red Man. Doc took a pinch of chew and was able to calm down his nerves. We stood in the shade resting.

We continued on to the Screamin Chickin. The Chickin is an old gas station converted into a biker bar. On the outside, it looks like a dumpy rat-hole. Inside, it also looks like a dumpy rat-hole. But the place always rocks-n-rolls with the most hardcore of bikers. Famous for their bikini-bike washes, you'll never find a lack of 1%er clubs here. However, for some reason, the place was dead today. I guess everyone else was visiting their moms.

We had us some beers and chatted it up for awhile.

Then it was on to Tom's Farms by way of Interstate 15. But before we could get on the freeway, we got stuck at a railroad crossing when two lines going the opposite direction passed by each other. Each line of cars must have been a mile long.

Tom's Farms was unusually packed with people that day. For a Sunday, it's normally busy, but it just looked REALLY busy today. I ordered up a chocolate shake, and it took them something like 20 minutes to make it. It was that busy, and the workers were that slow.

The four of us hooked up with G-man, a local rider from another group, and sat at a table, talking it up, enjoying our drinks and the shade of an umbrella. A great way to cap off a day of riding.

See all the photos here.

Labels: Ride Reports

We left our motel in Flagstaff at 6:00am, and got a quick breakfast at Del Taco. Stumpy put some more oil into his bike, and we got out on the road around 7:00am.

We took I-40 west, and flew through between 90-100mph. We got gas in Seligman. As we descended into the desert valley, the temperature heated up quickly. We got more gas in Yucca. We got into Needles, and then headed south on CA-95. Around this time, the temperature was clearly in the 100s. When we reached the Vidal Junction, we had to take a break.

Eventually we got into Blythe, and stopped for lunch and some air conditioning. Finishing lunch, we took I-10 west. Lewis decided to break away from the group and headed to Indio at his own speed. The rest of us travelled between 80-90mph driving in and out of all the holiday traffic. When descended down into the Coachella Valley, the temperature rose up some more.

We pulled into the 76 station on Monroe Street in Indio and found Lewis there. The gas station attendant said the air temperature was 108 degrees. But he said the road was about 135 degrees, based on an infrared temperature sensor they have.

When we got into Cabazon, the traffic came to a stop, and we split lanes all the way to Banning, where there was a traffic accident. We got into Beaumont, and Lewis and Bob took the 60 back home, while Stumpy and I took the 79 into Hemet. We stopped at the Yellow Basket in Menifee for drinks, and then headed off in different directions back home.

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

Today was the day we start our journey back home. Stumpy's sister and her family met us at 8:00am for breakfast. We were supposed to go to place called "Nero's", located in downtown Cortez, but she said it was closed. We ended up at one of those local places where only the locals go to, and where all the customers know each other.

One of the waitresses told us that she was disappointed that the City of Cortez didn't make an effort to host the Rally. She felt that bikers were mostly good people who were willing to spend lots of money, but that she was the only one who had such an opinion, and that everyone else hated bikers. I got the feeling that all the other customers didn't want us around.

After breakfast we said goodbye to Stumpy's sister, and headed out. Our first stop was the Four Corners National Monument. I wanted to get a photo of myself standing on the Four Corners platform. I ended up buying a t-shirt, while Bob got some t-shirts and other stuff, and Stumpy bought earrings for Tammy, and Lewis didn't buy anything.

The Four Corners National Monument is located within the Najavo Indian Reservation, or what the Najavos refer to as the Navajo Nation. The reservation covers three states, New Mexico, Arizona and Utah, and is the largest reservation in the USA. It's larger than many of our states. Stumpy noted that the Navajos today look just like those depicted in old photographs dating back into the 1800s. This is probably because the reservation is so large, that most Navajos never breed with people outside their race. They don't have any casinos, which may be due to their own choice, or not, I don't know.

From here, the plan was to take Highway 160 into Arizona, to Mexican Water and get gas. From there, take Highway 191 south to Ganado, and then take Highway 15 to Flagstaff.

When we got into Mexican Water, Stumpy met a couple of other bikers from Kentucky. They were on their 23rd day of riding all over the country. They had just spent the night at a motel in Kayenta, AZ, where they had spent $100.00 for one night. One of them mentioned the closest thing to sex he's had all month was getting screwed in Kayenta.

We turned down Highway 191 on our way to Chinle. The road is mostly straight, taking a turn only in a few places. It eventually ran past the town of Rock Point, a place where towering columns of rock shoot out from the ground and reach up to the sky. Past Point of Rocks, the scenery looked something like Monument Valley, Utah.

About halfway down highway 191, we rolled into the City of Chinle, which appeared to be the largest city in the entire Navajo Indian Reservation. Next to the city was Canyon de Chelly National Monument, a deep canyon where indians once lived. We went in, and found that it didn't require any fees to enter. Canyon de Chelly offered two roads, the north rim, and the south rim. We took the south rim. The road provides some breathtaking views of the canyon. The canyon itself was about as spectacular as the Grand Canyon. You could see some old cliff dwellings, and evidence that people were still living in the canyon.

At the Canyon de Chelly visitor center, we met an indian man who's claim to fame was that the famous photographer, Ansel Adams, had photographed his mother back in the 1940's. Adams apparently visited Canyon de Chelly back then and took several photographs, many of which were reproduced on posters and published in books. He apparently had taken a photo of his mother holding a baby. The indian man said that his mother, now 97 years old, was looking at one of Adams' photography books, and saw that photo of her. She told her son that was a photo of her holding one of his older brothers. That is now the story he tells.

Also at the visitor center, Stumpy saw a Honda 1100 Sabre, Touring Edition. He couldn't believe his eyes, because so few of the Touring Editions were made, let alone still existing. When we rode around the park, and stopped at one of the viewing areas, he saw the same motorcycle again. This time, he managed to meet its owners, a couple travelling from Sacramento to Mexico. He probably spent a good 20 minutes talking to them, and asked if he could hear the pipes. The bike had a set of Vance & Hines duallies that made a deep rumbling sound. Stumpy cracked the throttle a bit and was pretty impressed.

We left Canyon de Chelly, got gas in Chinle, and continued down highway 191. The road from here offered views of mostly open plain. It looked like we were in the middle of the plain, with hundreds of miles of open range all around us. The skies were partially cloudly, and in some of the clouds you could streaks of rain falling in the distance.

Rolling into Ganado, we got gas and rested a short bit. We were about to leave, when the couple riding the Honda 1100 Sabre Touring Edition pulled up into the same gas station. They were going to keep going south, and we were going to take a left turn into the town of Ganado to visit the Hubbell Trading Post.

The Hubbell Trading Post was a place where Navajo indians used to bring their handiwork and trade them for American made goods. It was built by a guy named John Lorenzo Hubbell, who suprisingly looked just like Stumpy, but with a more weathered face. The trading post is still a store selling western products, though I don't think they accept any other form of trade other than currency. Bob bought some tomatillo salsa, and explained to Stumpy how good it was on enchiladas. Stumpy bought some too.

We got back on the bikes, and headed west to highway 15. Highway 15 is a two lane road, running from Ganado to Leupp, and is administered by the Najavo Nation. On MapQuest, it is shown, but not marked with any number. In fact, none of the roads administered by the Navajo Nation are identified on MapQuest. The Rand McNally US Atlas that I keep in my saddlebags doesn't depict any of their highways. The first 30 miles of highway 15 is pock-marked with holes and cracks and made for some rough riding. The next 40 miles appears to have been recently repaved and is smooth. Then, it goes back to rough riding for another 20 miles, until you leave the indian reservation. Highway 15 has very few curves. There are stretches where you drive for 10 or 20 miles of straight road, and very little traffic. The scenery is mostly grassy plain, with a few hills here and there.

We rolled into Leupp, and got gas at the only gas station. The station had four pumps, but only one worked. Plus, there were other cars ahead of us in line, and so it took awhile for all of us to get back on our way.

The town of Leupp is on the western-edge of the Navajo Nation. Leaving town we returned to the world of the whiteman. We were only about 20 miles out of Flagstaff.

We got our motel around 5:30pm, and Stumpy dropped his bike taking too sharp of a turn in the parking lot. He pretty much stopped rolling by then, and didn't really hurt anything. For dinner, we walked across the street to a Fazoli's, for some cheap italian grub.

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

The plan was for all of us to ride to Mesa Verde National Park, located just outside of Cortez, CO, and then ride to Ignacio to spend the day at the Rally.

We all got to Mesa Verde, and found a nice scenic ride through the park to the visitor center. Mesa Verde is a series of canyons with indian cliff dwellings built into the crevices. We were about to get on our way to visit the various dwellings, when Stumpy said he wasn't feeling well. He opted to head back to the motel.

The rest of us rode on to the "Cliff Palace", which is the largest of the cliff dwellings. The Cliff Palace requires buying a tour ticket to actually up to the dwelling. Otherwise, you'd have to view it from a distance. So, Bob, Lewis and myself each bought tickets, and hiked down to the dwellings.

Mesa Verde has lots of archeological sites and hikes, you could spend several days there seeing it all. The roads within the park offer some nice scenic motorcycle rides, but at slow speeds. There's a lot of tight twisties, and a lot of slow moving cars. The road takes you up to the top of Mesa Verde, and gives you some expansive views of south west Colorado.

We got out of Mesa Verde around 2:30pm, and rode into Durango for lunch. We headed down Main Street in the old part of town. You could see thousands of bikes parked on along Main Street in the city center, which is where I had led the group to. Bob mentioned seeing a place called "Lost Dog Bar & Lounge", about block back, but had no bikes anywhere near it. He figured it wouldn't be crowded there, and would be a better place to go. I mentioned that the fact that no bikes were parked there suggested it was not as good as the other bars and restaurants. Nonetheless, Lewis agreed with Bob, and we rode back and parked our bikes there.

It turned out to be a good choice. The food was good, and so was beer. We were pretty much the only customers there. But not too long after, other bikers started walking in, one after another. Perhaps the sight of our bikes parked out front made other people feel comfortable about trying it out.

After lunch, we headed over to Ignacio. The rode to Ignacio was filled with bikers riding to in and out of town. Ignacio itself is located inside an Indian Reservation. Most of the riders were riding at the posted speed limit of 55mph, while the three of us and a handful of others were blowing past them at 80mph.

In Ignacio, the city center was jammed with bikes and vendors. I'd say about 90% of the bikes were Harleys. We got into the fairgrounds, and found rows and rows of tents where bikers were staying. Here and there, guys were waving signs that said, "Show us yer tits", and here and there girls were flashing them. Somehow, Bob managed to look in the right direction at the right time, and became the beneficiary to much of it.

At the Beer Garden, they had elevated stages where girls in skimpy bikinis danced about, giving everyone crotch shots. One gal was cute and thin, another was cute but chubby, while another was middle-aged and completely misshaped. Bob noted another girl in the audience flashing her boobs.

The Rally schedule for today pretty much had nothing going on until 4:00pm, when the men's wrestling took place. Other than that, the only other event was a concert from The Guess Who, at 9:30pm. Since neither of us were interested in watching wrestling, and none of us cared to hear The Guess Who, we wandered about the vendor area and found nothing extraordinary, same old shit, different place.

We left the Rally around 6:30pm, and headed back to our motel in Cortez to pick up Stumpy for dinner. Stumpy's sister Janet was driving down from Denver with her husband and daughter to visit him, and we were all supposed to have dinner with them at 7:00pm. On the way back we ran into patches of rain. I was leading them back at around 80mph, when Bob decided to take over and lead us back at 90mph. Just outside of Cortez it really started pouring. Fortunately, we were able to get to the motel before we got totally soaked. We learned the next day that the rain got really bad in Durango and Ignacio. A couple of riders who were staying at our motel couldn't ride back, and had to sleep in the lobby of a motel in Durango.

That evening, we all went out to dinner with Stumpy's sister and her family. We went to a place called "The Dry Dock" in downtown Cortez. The restaurant was like an upscale family restaurant, probably not something that bikers would frequent. After dinner, Stumpy's sister wanted to ride on the back of his motorcycle, but he was already going to take her daughter instead. So, she rode on the back of mine. We got close to the motel when she said she wanted to keep on riding. So I kept going, and ended up riding to someplace where I had no idea where I was going. So, I turned around and went back to the motel.

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

We headed out to breakfast at 8:30am, at the local Denny's in Cortez. Around 9:15am we got back on the road headed towards Durango.

Along the way I saw several highway patrol cars cruising the highway, several others pulling over cars, so we kept our speed to about 5mph over the speed limit.

The temperature along highway 160 to Durango was pretty cold. When we got into Durango, Tom wanted to pull over to put an extra shirt on, so I found a McDonald's.

We headed north on US-550 towards Silverton. The highway is surrounded by tall mountains. The road ascends almost immediately after leaving Durango, and hits a peak of about 10,600 feet at Coal Bank Pass. We pulled off the side of the road at the pass to get some photos.

Further down the road we stopped at another place, which had a higher elevation, around 10,900 feet.

We got to Silverton around 11:00am. The place was full of bikes, and the whole town was taken over by bikers. We mostly walked in and out of shops, and taking photos. Lewis bought a sweatshirt, and Tom and I bought t-shirts.

As we headed out to our bikes, it started raining. Lewis wanted to sit it out, while Tom argued that we need to move on. I agreed with Tom, and we got back on the highway, heading to Ouray. The rain didn't last that long.

We stopped at another rest stop, called "Red Mountain", which is named after the town nearby. Further down the road, we stopped at another location where a bunch of bikes were parked. There was a waterfall here. Water from Mineral Creek ran down a mountain, and crossed underneath the road through a tunnel, and came out the other side. I took photos, while Tom, Lews, and Bob were more interested in talking to a biker couple.

The gal in the couple was named "Trish", who looked she was in her thirties, while the guy she was riding with looked he was in his sixties. But she was a really lively character. Tom mentioned that we were headed up to Black Canyon of the Gunnison, and they insisted we go there. But because we took so much time in Silverton, we were not going to make it. So, she said she would e-mail Tom some photos, and he gave her his IHRC business card.

We got back on the road, and made our way into Ouray. We weren't really supposed to do too much here, but since we were not going to make it to Black Canyon of the Gunnison, we chose to get a bite to eat. Then we rode up to Box Canyon Falls, which is just outside of town.

Box Canyon Falls was a lot of fun. The Falls is located at the very beginning of the canyon, where the water appears come from behind the rocks and boulders. There's a "cat walk" located about 50 feet above the water. The walk takes you close to the falling water, and then gives you a stairway down to the base.

After the falls, the time was about 3:30pm, and we still hadn't reached the half-way point of the route. We headed up to Ridgway, and then got on CO-62 to Placerville. Then we got on CO-145 south, headed to Dolores. CO-145 ran past several small town towns, eventually taking us to Telluride. Our original plan was to stop in Telluride, but the time was getting late so passed it by.

Eventually, the road took us up to Mount Wilson, which offered a spectacular view. We stopped in a town called Rico to get gas. There we met another biker couple taking a break. The guy went by the name of "Cowboy". He rode up here from Mobile, Alabama a couple weeks earlier. The girl he was with he had only met since arriving here. She worked up in Telluride, and he was giving her a ride back home.

They took off first, and we took off just a minute later. Eventually we caught up to them, because he got stuck behind some slow moving cars. It turned out there was another biker at the very front holding everyone back. We were able to pass all the cars one-by-one, and pass the motorcycle rider.

We got into Dolores, and then continued on to Cortez, and made it back to our motel around 6:15pm.

About 8:00pm, we got back together and headed out to dinner. We went into Main Street Brewery. We ended up seeing "Cowboy" there, and we chatted with him. Then we discovered his girlfriend working there. She said she works parttime there, in addition to working in Telluride.

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

We left our motel in Flagstaff at 7:30am, and had breakfast at the nearby Coco's. By 8:30am, we headed north on 89A. A few miles out of Flagstaff, we decided to pull into Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument. The road into the park was surrounded by fields of yellow sunflowers, with tall green pines behind them. Really pretty, but too bad we didn't get a photo of it.

The road within the park runs a circular route back to 89A, with about 30 miles of scenic road. You can see the lava flow, which is black lava rock with sharp crags. You can see Sunset Crater itself, and views of the painted desert. Further down the road is the Wapatki Ruins, worth stopping and checking out.

Getting back on 89A, we continued north to US-160, and headed east. Everything on US-160 is all Navajo indian reservation, all the way to the Colorado border, about 230 miles. We got gas in Tuba City and Kayenta. Much of the landscape along this road is flat and uninteresting, with the exception of about 10 miles before you get into Kayenta, which offers some cliff formations.

We cruised most of US-160 at 85mph. We encountered a lot of groups of bikers headed the same direction. But for whatever reason, they were all riding at slower pace, maybe 65mph to 75mph. We blew past them all. We did see a few cars that got pulled over by the Tribal Police, so that explain why a lot of bikers were riding slow. But we managed to get through without incident.

We got into Teec Nos Pos, a town right near the New Mexico border. We were supposed to gas up here. But Tom talked to a local indian, who said it was only another 25 miles to Cortez. So, he decided to forego gas here. It turned out to be another 39 miles instead. So, we ended up having to get gas about 10 miles before Cortez.

Gasoline prices from Flagstaff all the way up to Cortez seemed to average about $3.00 a gallon. We saw some prices for regular at $3.20.

We stopped at Four Corners National Monument, but they wanted $3.00 per person to stand on the platform. Tom decided it was too much money, so he didn't want to go in. We took photos of the sign, however. I complained that we came all this way to check out Four Corners, and he didn't want to spend the $3.00 to see it. I think on the way home, I'll pay his ticket to get in.

We got into our motel rooms around 6:00pm, and headed out to dinner at 7:30pm. We went to "Lotsa Pasta", in Cortez. The food was really good. Lewis wanted us to sit outside on the patio deck. Turned out the deck was full of flying bugs. We ate there anyways.

We got back to the motel, and planned out tomorrow's ride. A lot of bikers here at the motel, and a lot of bikers riding up and down the street. There's supposed to be even more bikers in Durango.

Temperatures here in Cortez is ok. When we pulled into the motel, it felt like 85 degrees. When we came back to the motel from dinner, it felt like 65 degrees. It's supposed to get down into the 40's in early morning.

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

I left home at 6:00am, on my way to pick up Tom at the Yellow Basket, in Menifee. We headed out on our way to the Denny's Restaurant in Beaumont, off the intersection of Highway 79 and I-10. Bob arrived soon after, but no Lewis. We got a few drinks and toast while waiting, and he finally showed up. We got on our way at 7:30am, headed east on I-10.

Being 30 minutes late on our schedule, we sped along to Indio, our first gas stop, running between 85-90mph. By the time we got into Indio, the temperature was getting warm, probably around 90 deg. We took off our jackets.

Got back on the I-10, and sped along between 90-100mph, trying to race the heat. We got into Blythe, and pulled off to get some drinks and some air conditioning at a Del Taco. It was about 10:00am.

From there, we cross the Arizona border, and got gas at Ehrenburg. Having gotten ourselves back on schedule, we ran at a steady 85mph to the AZ-60 off ramp. From there, we headed up AZ-60 about 80mph, and got gas at Aguila. Aguila, was probably fairly large town considering the tiny rat holes along the AZ-60 thus far. Temperature felt like 105 deg. Lots of hispanics loitering around, probably waiting out the head until evening to go back to work in the fields.

Our plan was to have lunch in Congress, AZ, only 20 miles from Aguila. We got into Congress, and found the only cafe. It had a gravel parking lot. Tom and Lewis pulled into the parking lot, while Bob and I kinda waited, and stayed on our bikes. Tom noticed the cafe was closed. So he got back on his bike, and backed out of the parking lot. He was about back into Bob, when Bob hit his horn. But Tom didn't hear it, and forced Bob to push himself back, but he lost footing on the gravel, and dropped his bike.

We changed plans to get lunch in Yarnell. But Lewis wanted to instead go straight to Prescott for lunch. So we let him lead us the way.

Highway 89A into Prescott was a great ride. It goes up into the mountains, with lots of twisties, keeping you at about 30-50 mph. But great scenery, and cooler temperatures.

We pulled in Prescott, and parked by the Old Court House. Took some photos, and started looking for a place to chow. We wandered into one place that seemed like it would offer air conditioning. It was The Historic Palace. It took them a long time to get our lunch delivered, so Tom complained and managed to get two of our dishes comped.

We then headed down the 89A, to Jerome. Again, the ride on the 89A was a motorcyclist's dream. Lots of curves, great scenery, the smell of pine trees, and smooth pavement. Well, some places were kinda bumpy, but mostly good.

We got into Jerome. Jerome is an old west town built on the side of a mountain. We pulled into Paul & Jerry's Saloon, which bills itself as the oldest active saloon in Arizona. It certainly looked old. We got drinks, and continued north on 89A to Sedona.

We got into Sedona, probably around 3:30pm. The views of the red rock canyons were spectacular. We pulled into "old town", which didn't look all that old. We got ice creams at a shop, and enjoyed some more air conditioning.

Continuing north on 89A, we got into what was probably the best part of the ride. 89A from Sedona to Flagstaff was some of the best riding I've been on. It runs along the bottom of a canyon, with the stream running nearby. Flanked by both sides are towering canyon walls of red, white, and tan streaks. Tall trees grew along the road, hanging their branches and leaves over the road casting a cool shade. The curves swept along at degrees that allowed you to ride a leisurely 50-60mph. This is a stretch of road every motorcycle rider ought to ride.

We pulled into our motel at 6:00am. Bob had to take his air filter cover off to re-attach his breather hose. We headed out for dinner at 7:30, and ate at "Black Bart's Steak House". It was located in the middle of a RV Campground. The waitresses and waiters there are all music students at Northern Arizona University. They are required to get on the stage at the restaurant and sing songs from operas, musical comedies, and various standards. Some of it was bad enough to be quite funny. The food was great, though pricey. All in all we had a blast. We were the only bikers, while everyone else were "snow birds".

Labels: Ride Reports, Road Trips

Last weekend, the wife and I, along with a handful of members of our riding club did an overnight ride up to Hearst Castle. If you live in California, it makes a great one or two day ride. Lot's of great scenery along Highway 1 and Highway 101, and a great reprieve from the triple-digit temperatures throughout much of California. More about Hearst Castle later.

We left Temecula at 7:00am on Saturday morning (May 21), and headed north along Interstate 15, from there we followed several other freeways until we got onto Highway 101. Our first gasoline stop came about 130 miles later in Westlake Village.

Once we got into Ventura, you could feel the cool ocean breeze, and by the time the 101 came up to the coastline, it got kinda cold. But there was some great riding through Santa Barbara, Goleta, Buellton, and all the way up to Santa Maria. That was our first destination.

That whole weekend, the town of Santa Maria was host to the "2005 All American Motorcycle Madness". It was definitely an "all American" motorcycle show, but I wouldn't call it "madness". "Anti-climactic" would have been a better adjective. There were some really cool looking bikes there, lots of vendors, and that's about it. There was a band playing there, but they didn't put out very many covered tables where would could watch in the shade. The sun was beating down on everyone, and not very many people were willing to stand there and watch the band.

We had lunch in Santa Maria at a place called "Stinky's Grill". I guess Stinky's had good food. The servers there were all very young and cute, but ours seemed to have memory problems. She just couldn't seem to remember what we ordered, and talked as if she grew up in the San Fernando Valley. I suppose "ValSpeak" doesn't really matter, but it does matter when she forgets to bring your chow.

We continued north up to Pismo Beach to our motel, the Rose Garden Inn. The Rose Garden Inn is basically a dive. The rooms are rather old-looking, no air conditioning, and hard mattresses. But it was the only place that had rooms for under $100.00 on weekends.

At Pismo Beach, we all rode into downtown to find a place to eat. Not knowing anything about Pismo Beach, we wandered into Chele's Food & Spirits, about a block up from the pier. The food was "so-so" and the service sucked. I think their biggest problem was a lack of adequate help. I had the salmon, and it was on the dry-overcooked side. One guy in our party had the halibut, and they forgot all about him! The steaks were not very tender either, and they didn't have A1 steak sauce. I mean come on, everyone else has A1 sauce!!

Anyways, across the street was Harry's, a nightclub frequented by bikers. Apparently, their claim to fame was that John Madden met his wife there. It would have been interesting to have a beer there, but after a day of riding and walking, we were tired at this point. So, we went back to the motel from there.

The next morning, we had breakfast, and continued north along Highway 101, and then took Highway 1 along the coast. We rolled into Morro Bay, where the air temperature went cold on us. We had to pull over, and put our jackets on. We finally arrived at the entrance to Hearst Castle about another 30 minutes later.

Hearst Castle was just one of several homes owned by William Randolph Hearst, the famed owner of the Hearst Publishing Company, which owned numerous newspapers, magazines, cartoons, and probably just about everything else in the world. The place is massive. Unreal. You have to take four separate tours just to see and appreciate the whole thing. The guy obviously had a lot of money. Some of us took Tour #1, while others took Tour #2.

If you've only seen Hearst Castle in pictures, or saw a television documentary about it, you'll never really appreciate how massive this place is, and how luxurious it was, at least for its time. Standing in front of the outdoor swimming pool alone will make you shake your head. And then, wait until you see the indoor swimming pool with its gold leaf tile and naked statues of men and women.

I imagine Hearst Castle has some hidden chambers and stairways that maybe even the tour guides don't know about. If you saw those movies where someone pulls on a wall lamp, and it causes the bookcase to swing open, revealing a staircase that leads to a hidden chamber, Hearst Castle is the kind of place that would have those things. I wanted to pull on some candlesticks and wall lamps, just to see what would happen, but they're pretty strict on you not touching anything.

After leaving Hearst Castle, we continued north along Highway 1 for about another five miles, until we arrived at the Piedras Blancas Elephant Seal Rookery, a small beach where thousands of elephant seals come to breed their young. There were thousands of elephant seals there, most of them just sunning themselves. There were maybe a few in the water, and there was one just inside the water "barking" for some reason. There were also lots of squirrels, that apparently were well trained at begging for food.

Viewing the seals marked the beginning of the return home for us. From that point on, we pretty much slammed it home. We refueled and had lunch in Pismo Beach. It was there that my riding glasses broke. I had another pair in my saddle bags. When we rolled into Santa Barbara, we hit the traffic jam. We had to split lanes pretty much all the way to the Ventura County Line.

We got gas again in Westlake Village, and then rode it all the way to Tom's Farms. We had dinner there, and rested a little while. From there we said our goodbyes, and each of us headed home.

Labels: Hearst Castle, Motorcycle Tours, Ride Reports

I just got back home yesterday from a four-day ride through California and Arizona, the 2nd Annual "Ride for Ryan". I don't know the details of who Ryan was, but he was killed by a drunk driver. A guy named Ross Myrehn, organized the ride with all proceeds benefitting Mothers Against Drunk Driving.

The ride was awesome! There was about 20 to 25 of us riding out from Rancho Cucamonga, California, to Mesa, Arizona. From there, we spent the next couple days touring northern and southern Arizona. There were six of us who knew each other pretty well, four of us from our club and the other two from a nearby club. The rest of the riders were from The Sabre Group.

Day 1: We left the gas station in Rancho Cucamonga, and headed east along the I-10. We took Highway 62 into Twenty-Nine Palms and picked up another rider. From there we shot across the Mojave Desert into Parker, Arizona and had lunch. Moving on, we rode into Wickenburg, Arizona and gassed up again. From there, we reached our motel in Mesa. For dinner, most of us went to "Bill Johnson's Big Apple Steakhouse".

Day 2: We rode out to the Rockin' R Ranch in Mesa, to have the breakfast in honor of Ryan. There was a small raffle, and I won a first aid kit. We then hit the highway back to Wickenburg to fuel up. Then we rode on to Prescott. The ride to Prescott was awesome. The twisties took you through some great views of the mountains, and you could smell the pine trees. In Prescott, we had lunch at the Gurley Street Grill. From there, we rode on to Jerome, and a few of us stopped in for beers at Paul & Jerry's Saloon. After that we moved on to Sedona and took photos. From there, we headed back to our motel in Mesa.

Day 3: We broke our night-time fast with a continental offering from the motel, and then departed for Tombstone. We stopped for gas just south of Tucson, where we picked up a couple more riders. In Tombstone, we all split up into smaller groups, and spent a few hours there. Our close group of six along with seventh person from The Sabre Group, had lunch and beers at Big Nose Kate's Saloon. After that, the seventh guy left us to do his own thing, and one of us six left to go visit his folks in Payson. Finally, the remaining five of us rode out of town, taking the I-10 back to Tucson, and then breaking off on highway 77 and then to highway 79 into Florence. From there, we took the 60 back to our motel in Mesa.

Day 4: Our group of six of had breakfast at the Village Inn restaurant next to the motel. Instead of riding back home to California with The Sabre Group, we decided to break off and take a slightly different route. We took highway 60 to Wickenburg, and continued on the 60 to Quartzsite. From there we got back on to the I-10. We had lunch at a little place in Blythe. Getting back on the freeway, the wind really started kicking up. Fighting the wind made our gas mileage suck. We planned on riding all the way from Blythe to Beaumont on a tank of gas, but we were forced to instead stop in Indio. Along the way, we saw a woman riding topless on a Harley. Riding through Palm Springs, the wind got really fierce. We had to slow it down to 60mph, because controlling the bikes became difficult. When we finally got to Beaumont, we pulled off the freeway, said our goodbyes, and each went our own direction back home.

My allergies got bad in Arizona, but I had some meds with me and managed to make it bearable. The allergies ended up making my throat sore, and right now I have a cough. But man, what a great time it was!

If you'd like to see photos that I took, visit my photo set on Flickr. Some photos look grainy because those were taken from my cell phone.

Labels: Ride for Ryan, Ride Reports