day twenty-one: on the road again

Mt. Ranier (14,700 ft.) from the Ferry at sea-level.

A view of the Seattle skyline from the auto-deck of the Ferry.

Eastern Washington flatlands...much different from the WA I've gotten used-to.

One of the many Idaho mountain lakes that we passed.

Hey guys and girls. Michael and woke early this morning ready to get back on the road after four great days with Mere and DP and a couple of days with Megan. I’m not certain but Megan seemed sadder to see me leave than Michael. I have that effect on people. We were not eager to leave our special people in Bremerton but we left early to bank some time against the need later on if we begin to run short. We boarded the ferry this morning at 9 AM. Mike and I noticed that the ferry made a strange but consistent rhythm which reminded us both of “River Dance.” We began to clog and jump and pirouette and pretty soon they had signed us up for Washington state ferry entertainment! By 9:50 we had disembarked the ferry and were moving through the streets of Seattle headed for Spokane. We rode through the day covering about 350 miles and ending up in our 16^th state, Idaho, and poised to blow into Montana sometime tomorrow morning. We were in what Louis L’Amour calls a “ground eating gait” today. Of course he was talking about a good horse and I’m talking about our motorcycles.

We came through some incredible contrasts today. We started the day at sea level and ended near Sandpoint, ID at @ 4500 ft. We started in what can almost be described as a rain forest with abundant water and greenery and transitioned to dryer and browner areas with little or no water and stands of sage, cedar and grass. In fact, you could say the first area needed drainage and the second, irrigation. This leads me to a comment I’ve been contemplating for the whole trip. I have found that, in the west, they are very loose about naming rivers. We passed rivers today (Snoqualmie, Cle Elum and Columbia) that were bank-full, rapid flowing, blasters. These are rivers! In other places (the worst was Texas but other states abused this as well) their rivers are potential. They could be called a seep, a spring, even a creek; but a river . . . my suggestion is that if you could throw your fishing line and cork in these “rivers” and the water flow is not sufficient to float the cork, you are not, in fact, a river and do not deserve the name. Maybe it’s just me.

The other thing I noticed today is that the roads we took were terrible. They were old concrete roads, which I generally love, but these were old and in disrepair. There were signs which said “Grooved road-motorcycle riders be especially careful,” and “rough road ahead’” and “abrupt drop off.” Their were also these three parallel grooves on both sides of the right lane, where car tires would usually ride, which were spaced about 8 feet apart. Presumably these were to let you know that you were still in the lane. I don’t know about you but I don’t require assistance to recognize that I’m on the road. When I’m off the road (and I have some experience here) there are branches whipping by my face and abrupt undulations in the ground covered by grass and other assorted debris. I am clear when I have reached “off-road” status. You may think I’m overreacting to the grooves and bad cracks and abrupt drop-offs I’ve detailed. In my defense, there were a few times, because of these hazards, that I thought I might get “jiggy” with the pavement. Maybe I’m a little whiny. Hey, those who know me best know that when I’m complaining, I’m feeling great!

Anyway, that’s my perception of the day. With you, I am interested in Michael’s perspective. See you next time.

day nineteen: a day on the town

Sluy's Bakery in Poulsbo


Can't remember the name of this bridge in Bremerton

Hanging out on the dock after dinner at The Boat Shed


Poulsbo harbor

If yesterday was “lay by” day, then today was “lay out” day. Not lay out in the sense of spending time in the sun working on tans, although that would have been possible even in the normally cool and cloudy Seattle area, but lay out in the sense of being worthless and knowing it! DP got up to go in and take a test around 4 AM. I got up to feed and walk Charley (I’ve been misspelling it all along . . . Oh no, spell check just told me I misspelled “misspell!”) around 7:30 AM and the rest of the crew slept in to recover from staying up late watching scenes from “Office.” At about 11:30 we all thought we might go have a bite to eat and Mere took us to Pip’s Bagels for some more health food. After eating here we went to Poulsbo. Poulsbo is a Scandinavian village from somewhere in the past that has retained some of its old fishing village allure while not totally succumbing to the god of tourism. Each time we visit Mere and DP we come here to look at the local book store which specializes in old books of pretty much whatever genre you like. Our crew seem always drawn to the older fiction. Today Michael old copies of Franny and Zoey and Catcher In the Rye by J.D. Salinger (I know, Salinger is not that old). I got a copy of Treasure Island and Robinhood. The kids asked if I were reliving my childhood but I explained that I always keep my eyes open for books to read to grandkids. I don’t have any yet but one can never plan too much! If I ever do have grandkids they’ll probably say to themselves, “Run before the old codger pulls out one of his books!” Steinbeck says, “I think today if we forbade our illiterate children to touch the wonderful things of our literature, perhaps they might steal them and find secret joy.” My method is one of beating it into them rather than forbidding them and taking a chance! I bought Mere a copy of Connecticut Yankee in Kings Arthur’s Court by Twain. I know none of this relates even peripherally to motorcycle riding but it is important to be literate and well-rounded as well as to be a motorcycle rider without equal. Please notice that I made no intimation about the relative level of my personal skill in that comment. Anyone who can fall off a motorcycle three times in less than ten days is a rider “without equal.” Having said that, you never know when you may strike up a conversation with some person only to find yourself in need of some great literary example. I, for one, do not want to appear to be an ignorant boob in addition to a below average bike rider!

It is now about 4:30 PM and we are all discussing the next place we would like to eat and the best time to do so. I’ll stop my rambling for today and resume tomorrow. Our plans now call for Michael and I to resume our travels Sunday morning. We’ll try to have this posted by then.

day eighteen:

Well howdy buckaroos and buckerettes and a fine welcome from the Pacific Northwest.  Today was a day without much going on- no particular riding scheduled.  It was the kind of day my granddad used to call “lay by” day.  I never was quite sure what that meant but it seemed to mean that you took care of chores you could only do when bigger ones weren’t pushing their way to the front.  It was definitely a farm term.  Maybe some of you know what it means and can explain the whole proposition to me.  In any event Mike and I rode a mere 86 miles, the distance to and from the BMW dealer in Fife, WA, to have our bikes serviced.  Changing the oil for each bike was $108.00.  In case I’m not being clear this means that the total for both bikes was $216.00- for an oil change!  Mike and I think we may have found our niche market.  Here’s how we imagine that our first commercial would go:  “Hello fellow motorcycle riders and enthusiasts.  Tired of being raped every time you have your oil changed?  Does it bother you that the average car’s oil can be changed for about $30.00 and your motorcycle costs over three times that amount?  The tools are the same, the expertise is the same and the car uses more oil.  Hmm . . . our suggestion, come to Mike and Alan’s motorcycle jiffy lube.  For $49.95 we’ll change your oil and check all your bike’s fluid levels.”  I don’t know how long that took.  It would have to be test marketed and timed and honed a bit before release, but we think we may have thought of something big!

After our return from Fife, Mike and I washed Mere’s Jetta and gave the two bikes a much needed cleaning.  They await a complete detail job when we reach South Carolina again but for now simply removing approximately 30-40 lbs of mangled bugs and other assorted debris from each bike should improve not only their appearance but their performance as well.

In a bit of good news the Navy finally saw reason and allowed us and our bikes on the base.  They decided that our SC motorcycle licenses constituted a proper “endorsement” and that our motorcycle safety course certificate was no longer necessary.  It was funny coming onto the base for the first time.  I rode up slowly expecting to be turned away, jailed or at least roughed up a little and all the officer said was that I’d have to remove my sunglasses and put on my gloves!  OK, so we want you to get sun in your eyes but not on your hands!  Whatever.  As Foghorn Leghorn says, “For’, I say fortunately, I keeps my gloves handy for just such an occasion!”

So, that’s pretty much the day.  As I write this, Mere and Mike are getting ready to leave to pick up Megan.  It’ll be a happy reunion all around!  Tomorrow we all plan to go to Poulsbo, a small town a few miles from Bremerton, to look at old books and get some “health food” at a favorite bakery.  I’ll let you know how all that goes tomorrow.

Also, the pictures at the top are a few more from yesterday.  We just snagged them from Mere's camera, and they were more interesting than the ones we took inside of the BMW dealership!

day seventeen: in the mean time

As I mentioned yesterday, Mike and I have taken a brief hiatus from daily travel.  Sitting still has given me a little time to contemplate some of the finer points of biker etiquette.  For instance, I have noticed that each rider seems to have a particular form of greeting, a sort of biker wave.  As riders pass in opposite directions it is altogether right and appropriate to give some fleeting sign of friendliness, a “you’re accepted into the fraternity” kind of gesture.  Some choose not to participate in this particular form of felicita-tion.  Their reasons are many.  Some are grumpy.  Some do not approve of your bike choice.  Some simply don’t care.  Those choosing to participate have numerous ways of showing it.  There is the barely lifted finger point.  I call this one the pickup truck steering wheel point.  It is not actually a wave since the hand, at no time, leaves the handgrip.  As such, this gesture fits in the category of brief signs of acknowledgement (BSOA’s).  While these are often gratifying to receive, they do not rise to the level of an officially sanctioned hand wave (OSHW).  OSHW’s come in an incredible number of varieties.  In fact, these are only limited by the communicant’s creativeness.  Here is a brief cataloging of a few I’ve witnessed on this trip.  There’s the one finger point.  The hand is lifted from the grip and pointed vaguely in your direction but not directly at you.  To this may be added a small chopping motion making it a one-fingered chopping point.  You may also receive a two-fingered plain or chopping point or the old sixties-esque peace sign.  The WWII generation will recognize this one as the old V for victory sign.  They are actually very similar when viewed as both cyclists pass at 60-70 mph.  You see how creativity enters into every situation.  Often, you can see signs of incredible spontaneity as a biker hits a pothole or slick area and instantly transforms a well-planned signal into one of amazing creativity.  My personal favorite this trip has been the one from a Harley rider who held his hand out palm down and made a squeezing motion as each successive biker passed him by, almost like a real person to person handshake.

 

One other quick point and we’re done.  Michael pointed out today an important distinction.  Under no circumstances does a motorcycle rider extend any of these ritualized forms of greeting to a moped.  That would just be wrong.  I’m sorry.

 

As you can see, it is possible that I’ve had a little too much time for contemplation as we spend a few days resting.  I’ll try and tone it down!  See you soon.

day sixteen: to DP & Mere's we go

Firstly, allow us to apologize for keeping yall hanging for two days—we’ve been unsuccessfully searching for wireless connections everywhere.  But we believe we’ve had a breakthrough.

 

Mike and I started out the day in Seaside, OR and ended it in Bremerton, WA.  That’s a quick summary of the day but the story is a little more involved than that.  We woke to a cool morning with fog in Oregon, gassed up and headed north once again.  We crossed the Columbia River at Astoria.  If you talk to someone from Washington state they’ll almost always describe the beauty of the area just before a “but” or “if only” as in, if only it didn’t rain so much.  So it was only fitting that as we crossed the final bridge into Washington, it began to rain.  Mike said that it was neat to see fog and rain closing your view of what was in front with nothing but the sea on either side of the bridge- water above, below and all around.  The rain was mainly misting but the only difference in a misting rain and a driving rain is speed.  Since we supplied the speed, it certainly seemed to be one of the driving variety.  Not that it mattered, when machines of steel are ridden by men of iron, rains of any type are immaterial.  (I hope you’re wearing your boots!)  Just before South Bend, one of Washington’s finest, in the form of the highway patrol, decided to escort us for a few miles to ensure strict adherence to the 55 mph speed limit.  This is something I’ve noticed in Washington- drivers have been well trained that if the limit is 55, you drive 53-55.  Coming from South Carolina where 55 generally means that 55-64 is OK, this was a hard adjustment.  Nonetheless, we thank the Washington highway patrol for their concern and practical demonstration of it.  Their effort on our behalf had the effect of slowing both us and everyone else down so we could have some very close time together and more fully appreciate the scenery.  We arrived at Bremerton to check in with Mere and DP and subsequently, the Navy.  We had almost completed the process when the Navy attendant asked for our motorcycle safety cards.  We had already provided SC driver’s licenses, proof of insurance and registration information.  Michael suggested his second grade picture, which he always keeps handy for just such an occasion but they were not amused.  The upshot of this was that Mere and DP had to call friends, the Stimmels, to allow us to park the bikes at their house until we could take them to have them serviced.  So, for the next two to three days Mike and are resting and planning and spending time with Mere, DP, Charlie (their Lab) and starting on Thursday, Megan, Mike’s girl.  We’ll be sending our reports from a short-term home base before pushing on Saturday.  Until next time . . .

day fifteen- Klamath, CA to Seaside, OR

Mike and woke from a good night’s sleep at the “Camper Corral” in Klamath, CA.  We had no camper, having slept in our North Face tent, and did not feel at all corralled.  After a meager breakfast of oatmeal and black coffee (that’s all we felt we could afford given the previous night’s massive calorie consumption) we set out up Hwy 101 again.  Today we covered just over 300 miles and sometime after lunch we stealthily passed the 5,000 mile mark for the trip.  There was no fanfare, no celebration, just that silent, confident feeling of being two studs on two bikes having covered a massive distance without fatigue or complaint.  (That may be a little bit of an exaggeration!)  Today we passed through no less than 40 towns, cities or villages.  That sounds like an exaggeration but is actually the truth.  Michael said that he liked all the travel and the variation of landscape and each town’s individual character.  I had enough of the traveling 65 mph and breaking down to 15mph (complete with radar signs to inform you that you are now going 17 mph) in some of the towns after about town number ten.  I know, that does seem a little whiny doesn’t it- so much for the “without fatigue or complaint.”  Michael likes to comment about our culinary excursions each day.  Today, in sort of a pre-emptive strike I wanted to comment on my favorite meal.  In the town of Coos Bay, OR we opened a can of “Chicken of the Sea” tuna and ate it out of the can with Saltine crackers and root beer.  Who-boy!  Now that’s health food!  Combine the meal with the ambiance of sitting outside a convenience store sitting leaning against the wall with our feet extended out over the curb.  It doesn’t get much better than that! Our lunch really was much better than the supper we paid for at a supposed local favorite.  Come to think of it, we saw no locals eating there.  That was probably a clue- one we failed to take.

Our destination for the day was Seaside, OR., where we arrived at 8:30 PM.  For me it was a long day.  Mike is a trooper- always ready to push on, to ride that next 10 miles.  Maybe I’m just getting old . . . . . nah!

On a couple of personal notes, thanks are due to two specific people.  Matt Tingle has given me a new and improved version of a run-on sentence with numerous prepositional phrases from yesterday.  If you want to see the better version see his comment from yesterday.  Bud Shevick, a brother from Mitchell Road, commented on my usage of the word “profuse” and cleared up a lot for me.  Read it and see what you think.

Tomorrow, Mike and I head up the coast for a relatively short ride to Bremerton, WA to see Meredith, D.P. and Charlie, their chocolate Labrador retriever I affectionately call Chee-Cha!  We’re looking forward to catching up with them and putting them out for a few days taking care of us!

day fourteen: Ukiah to Klamath, CA

Today was fun.  Mike and I got up and went to a small church in Ukiah.  The people were friendly and welcomed us like brothers.  This put us leaving town and getting on the road a little late but hey, we’re Presbyterian, it was meant to be!  We traveled up Hwy 101 to the town of Legget.  Some of you may know this but if not, you’ll immediately enhance your store of worthless trivia by storing the fact that Legget is the town where the tree lives that is in all the pictures with cars driving through it.  I’m not sure my syntax is exactly correct here but you English majors can correct it in your head to have it come out properly.  We didn’t actually get to see the tree because it now costs five dollars to drive through it and have your picture taken with it and I’m just too cheap for that!  Legget is also the town where we thought Hwy 1, we referred to yesterday, took off to go further north.  We took its winding, twisting way for about 10 miles before I lost traction on some gravel and shot off the road into the bush and ferns and gorse and trees.  (Does northern California have gorse?)   Thankfully both the bike and I were unhurt and the crash did actually have a purpose.  We got to meet a really nice guy named John, who not only helped me back on the road, but also explained that Hwy 1 only went one way at this particular point and that, unfortunately was south!  Since Oregon was our destination and Oregon, last time I checked, was north of California this seemed an appropriate time to turn around.  Hey, I said we were Presbyterian!  For those of you who may be worried that I seem to be dumping my bike excessively, don’t let it bother you.  I’ve found that picking up this @600 lb beast is a particularly good way to work out the hams and glutes.  I try to dump it about every three days whether I need to or not.  This is also a great way to meet people who come by to stare and shake their heads and watch a great workout!  Finally, it is an absolutely perfect way to maintain my humility, a quality some have suggested I have need to develop more fully.  In any event, Mike and I got turned around successfully and headed in the right direction up Hwy 101.  We passed through a bunch of towns with great-sounding names like Weott, Pepperwood, Scotia, up through Eureka and McKinleyville (sounds at lot like our South Carolina contraction-esque Rutherfordton!).  After McKinleyville, we came to a really cool little town called Trinidad.  We ate at a little café and had fish and chips.  I’d love to recommend the place but I forgot the name and didn’t get a picture.  Here we also met an equally really cool girl named Ana MacKinnon.  Anna is a horse and flying tomboy who also just happens to own and ride a great 2000 BMW 1150 GS.  She’s actually been featured in the BMW owner’s magazine for having taken a trip from San Francisco to Vancouver and back . . . by herself!  No kidding!  We talked with her for about an hour and used a few southern “y’alls” to make her feel back at home (she went to high school in Charlotte, NC), took some pictures and gave her a parting hug (we’re still from the south) and boogied down the road for parts further north. The evening turned cold and foggy and the sighting of an Elk on the roadside helped us decide to get off the road at Klamath to camp for the night.  Anyway, that’s where we are tonight.  We’ll let you know where we get to tomorrow.  See you then.

 

day thirteen: Lessons on Highway 1 (Salinas to Ukiah)

The word for the day is “profusion.” Why profusion you ask? Well profusion is defined as “a large quantity of something or the quality of being profuse.” Some people accuse me of the second definition as opposed to being profound. I say anyone can be profound but it takes a special person to be profuse! It’s also defined as an abundance, a large amount, and excess and a plethora. I said that profusion was the word for the day because Michael and I experienced everything in profusion. We saw wild flowers in abundance. I’m not a horticulture specialist but I saw incredible varieties of flowers not present on the east coast. Bromeliads grow here voluntarily. If you don’t know what a bromeliad is, look it up. You’ll improve your level of knowledge and at least appear more culturally sophisticated simply as a result of reading this blog! There were a plethora of dairies as Mike and I traveled up hwy. 1, California’s true coast road, complete with twisting, winding turns. Now, some people don’t care for the smell of silage and manure and new-mown hay and cows in general, but to me these are special smells, which evoke old feelings of time spent with my grand-dad on his farm in Belton, SC. There were a large amount of bikers. These included the two-wheel kind which have designer labels- you know, Harley-Davidson, Yamaha, Kawasaki and BMW, as well as the two wheeled kind which require pedaling and persistence. Bikers were everywhere along the coast road and generally appeared to get along without undue animosity all day long. You’ve probably realized by now that I’m trying to use each of the definitions of “profusion” in my record of the day’s events. The only one I’ve left out is the word “excess” which certainly describes my verbosity, gregariousness, conviviality and exuberance!

The route Michael and I took today started in the Salinas graveyard viewing John Steinbeck’s gravesite. I have to say that, for a Salinas great, his grave is certainly understated. Maybe there’s a lesson for us all in this. From here we traveled to San Francisco and above up hwy 1 through small towns with names like Inverness and Bodega Bay before cutting over to Guerneville (which had a profusion of inns, pubs and bed and breakfasts) to hwy 101 north which led to Hopland (that’s right, “hop” land like the hop that goes in beer) and Ukiah, our ultimate destination for the day. The route we rode at the last was roughly a square. Mike suggested that we might want to ride it with our girls and tell others about it. To sell it properly I suggested the name of “the California Square Route.” (you know route like root- it’s a math joke!) In all, we covered about 298 miles and are coming dangerously close to the 5000 total mile mark.

For supper mike and I walked about 30 minutes each way to go to a local"organic brewery and pub." We couldn't stand the thought of mounting up again! We met a cool guy named Sean who was riding a new Kawasaki 1400 cc bike scouting a route for an upcoming ride. Good luck with that Sean. Well, I'm done for now- no more profusion-see you next time.

day twelve:

OK so day twelve is in the books!  We actually did a little catching up on rest today and only covered a total of 168 miles, the distance between Merced and Monterey and the return trip to Salinas.  Here’s your worthless trivia for the day.  What famous writer grew up in Salinas?  Many of you English majors will know this right off.  Another hint?  OK, he wrote the book Cannery Row (after the actual place in Monterey/picture included), which featured a character named Ed Rickets but referred to in the book only as “Doc.”  A second short novel titled Sweet Thursday features roughly the same set of characters including “Doc.”  Give up, or are you just tired of the English lesson?  The answer is (drum roll please) John Steinbeck- Michael’s favorite writer and one of Salinas’ favorite sons.

 

Mike and I rode to Monterey and, in reaching the city, accomplished one of our trip goals, that of reaching the West coast on our motorcycles!  It was cool.  I think there are some pictures.  We ate at a small café associated with a swanky hotel.  I would visit this place just to go to the bathroom.  I’m not kidding!  Mats at all the stalls, warm water to wash the lotion soap of your hands and cloth towels to dry them.  Now that is up town in my book.  I think I might install one of these in my home when I return!  As we walked around we noticed some really neat architecture.  One home looked like it belonged in “Lord of the Rings” as a hobbit house.  Like all of the things God makes, the beach was stunning- the water a vivid blue with the sun behind it and the floating kelp moving in large sinuous waves (Sorry, the spirit of Steinbeck made me wax eloquent for a moment!).

 

Mike and I chose to ride back early today probably because He was afraid that I would turn crabby and mean again today if he let me stay out too long!  We are staying in Salinas tonight with plans to get up and hit it early tomorrow.  We plan to visit Steinbeck’s grave in the morning before traveling north through San Francisco across the Golden Gate bridge to Sausalito before pushing on to end the day around Mendocino.

 

For those who are following daily I have a few corrections to make- actually only two.  First is my spelling of Nevada.  I don’t know how many of you also follow Miriam’s blog which is intended to encourage Michael and me and nauseate Megan, Mike’s sweetheart, with pictures of Clancy, our Labrador retriever.  In the latest post on her blog, Clancy is reading Webster’s Dictionary and is “disturbed” over my spelling of Nevada as “Neveda.”  Where is spell check when you need it!?  Anyway, I stand corrected.  Secondly, Michael said that my quoted mileage of 3000 miles was incorrect and that we had actually logged over 4000 miles at present.  These are the only two things that I’ve been wrong about over the last twelve days and I am gratified to be able to correct these minor errors.  Special thanks to Mike and Mimi for pointing them out!  That’s it for today.  We’ll see you again tomorrow.

day eleven: out of Utah, through Nevada and into California

Well hello sports fans!  I think that’s the way the Great Santini addresses his family in the Pat Conroy book by that name.  Robert Duval plays a great character in the movie . . . but that’s not the subject of this post.  Some how I have gotten off my day count so I am correcting it.  This is for day eleven but written on day twelve.  Michael and I were so tired last night from the distance covered he didn’t even do his crunches and push-ups.  He had me doing them but not as consistently and not as many.  I keep telling him that I’m an old man and staying on the bike is enough exercise for me on any given day!  And yesterday was a humdinger.  We woke early having traveled late to Caliente, UT.  If you have any Spanish at all you know how to say this town’s name.  However, if you are from this thriving metropolis you pronounce it Cali-any.  Anyway, we left Cali-any headed across the rest of Neveda.  We went through towns with names like Hiko, Modena, Warm Springs and numerous others.  The highlight of the day in Nevada was coming into Tonopah to eat some health food at McDonalds.  As we were eating, kids from the local high school started coming in.  Mike and I noticed that their school mascot name was the “Muckers!”  I kid you not!  It evidently has something to do with mining but Mike and I decided that the name was subject to some serious abuse and went on to abuse it some ourselves.  We had to take it to the parking lot we were laughing so hard.  We were afraid some local Mucker might overhear our crass humor and choose to “muck us up!”  Anyway we left Tonaopah, home of the Mighty Muckers and rode through Coaldale and Basalt before coming into California and our 13^th state.  I forgot to mention Neveda as our 12^th one the day before.  Somewhere over the last two days we have also logged our 3000^th mile on this trip- pretty cool!  As we rode in CA we came to a road which we add to our list as one of the prettiest in America, hwy 120 toward the town of Lee-Vining and Yosemite.  It passed through Inyo State Park which was beautiful and also subject to some seriously bad jokes- “So, what’s in-yo state park?”- things like that.  Hey, when you’re talking on headsets all day you have to do something to lighten the day!  Highway 120 led into Yosemite and I’ll apologize to all the Yosemite fans.  We took this one on the run due to the time of day.  We still got some beautiful pictures but Michael said that he could easily spend two weeks there, which, in itself is an understatement.  Snow was still on the peaks and some of the valleys.  Run-off made the streams fast and roaring.  These places truly defy description and my supply of superlatives is running low as a result.  After the park I made the stupid decision to make it to Merced, CA.  This ended up being about 80 miles too far for me.  I was worn out and mean by the time I got here to the Comfort Inn (Mike and I had camped out for the last three days and figured it was time for some soft beds, warm showers and good rest).  Our total ride today was 516 miles.  We didn’t think yesterday’s haul was as big as some of our initial ground-eating rides but it turned-out to be right close—which was too much!  Today we’ll hopefully be able to spend a little time at the San Jose BMW Motorcycle shop getting oil changed and a few things looked at before riding on to Monterey.  We’ll let you know how that works out.

 

For those of you who are following, send us a line.  It’s really fun to hear what you have to say.  Some of the comments have encouraged, harassed, cheered and made us laugh.  Keep them coming!

day ten: Bryce Canyon/Zion to ??

Mike and woke this morning after what was truly the best night of sleep either of us have gotten on this trip- and camping no less!  We broke camp after playing with a little female Australian shepherd/Cattle dog cross who needed a friend (and some beef stew we had left over from last night).  We rode to Bryce Canyon and followed the park roads to the look out places.  This is truly a beautiful park.  That is probably as empty a statement as the time I told Miriam that John Steinbeck really was a good writer.  She said, “You think?”  Regardless, this is one to see if you ever have the opportunity.  While we were there I met a man who looked like OD’s uncle Knotty.  I remember asking OD one day why he was named that.  OD’s response was “Look at him, what else would you call him?”  In any event this man looked like uncle Knotty whose real name I never knew (ask OD when you next see him).  The other interesting thing about him is that he talked like Elmer Fudd.  No kidding!  He said that as we traveled we needed to watch out for “bad weavah.”  (You know, snow rain, hail, etc- bad weavah)  As we left the park Michael made an interesting observation about Smokey the Bear, which I will leave him to develop in his daily highlights.  We rode south on hwy 89 to hwy 9 into Zion National Park.  This was the most awesome park by far that we have seen on this trip.  Michael said it looked almost pre-historic.  It was hot as the hinges and the 1 and ½ mile long tunnel made it seem as if you might be traveling there.  After leaving Zion we rode toward Cedar City to decide whether to push on, camp or get a room before pushing on.  Mike and I are pretty tired even though we have only ridden about 180 miles so far today.  We did pass through a town with the interesting name of La Verkin.  This was good for a few minutes of entertainment at the town’s expense- things like, “I’m shirkin” my workin” in downtown La Verkin;  the coffee’s perkin in the town of La Verkin- well you get the idea.  As I write this we are sitting in a Starbucks drinking a mocha frappachino.  The staff says, “Hey.”  Stay tuned for more as the day develops.