Did a little road trip last month and posted a ride report on another forum I'm on (non-Busa). BlackFalcon is my son, Lisa, my Fiance.
PREFACE
First of all, the ride was cut short due to weather and timing. Didn't make it to Canada or Chehalis, Washington, but boy did I give it a good try. One thing I learned is if you want to get the most out of a trip like this you CAN'T be on a time schedule and in reality, it's at least a two week trip. I passed by so many places and sights that I wanted to stop and explore but couldn't. It made me sick. Thanks to all that kept track of me: Andy, Jimmy and Dennis. BlackFalcon that kept the updates flowing on his crazy dad. Lisa was bummed that I didn't make it to Chehalis but all is forgiven, and a big thanks to Junior and the rest of the Canadian Contingent for being understanding.
STARTING OUT
Remembering the experience I had the last time I did this I made a few changes to start the ride. My goal was to do a major speed run in the beginning to get the Iron Butt stuff out of the way. I figured (and I was correct) that I would be too drained after The Gap to do any kind of timed run. This time I also packed a bit more intelligently (or so I thought). Ditched the 17" PowerBook and borrowed BlackFalcon's iBook, small Sony Cybershot, rainsuit, spare shirt and underwear, and packed it all in my Axio Hardpack. I had sent my leathers and a change of clothes to Cyber a week earlier BY USPS, and they arrived with no problems. UPS bites (learned my lesson).
REVIEW:
The Axio Hardpack lived up to it's billing as a very aerodynamic backpack. Little to no wind buffeting. Comfortable on the back, but as the ride continued the weight became a huge burden.
CONCLUSION:
Vanity sucks. I have always liked the Busa hump. It is one of the most unique parts of this bike. Practical (it's hollow and can be used as storage) and aerodynamically functional. I've noticed a lot of East Coast riders ride sans hump and exclusively use the rear seat. Most of the West Coast folks I know ride with the hump, so I like to represent.
I also don't find the custom luggage for the Busa particularly attractive. But believe me, by the time I left The Gap the custom Corbins I saw on a couple of Busas looked like the most beautiful things I have ever seen. (Really... The black LE I saw leaving the CROT when I left was a member of Hayabusa.org and the set-up looked sweet).
Instead of leaving at midnight I wanted to leave at 4:00pm on Saturday. That way I could do night riding all the way through Arizona, New Mexico and Texas before having to pull it over. Naturally things don't go exactly as planned and I left at 8pm. Late, but it would still put me into Texas by late morning. I pulled into Barstow around midnight and gassed up with the temperature nudging 90. Smart move
Made it through Arizona with no problems and rolled into Gallup early morning, still not hitting any major heat... yet.
They were testing a couple Smart Cars in New Mexico.
Because of my late start Amarillo by noon or Oklahoma by late afternoon wasn't going to happen. By the time I got to Amarillo I was pretty much cooked. The odometer said I had traveled 1068 miles so I was pleased that I did earn two IronButt patches, but now it was time to find a motel.
Last time I stayed in Amarillo was right in the middle of the annual Jehovah Witness convention and the only place available was a dump that I swear doubled as a hooker's office. I started to get concerned because the first three places I called had no vacancies (convention again), but I found a very nice Days Inn just off I40 that had a ground floor room available and at a very reasonable price. (The JW's just finished their convention)
After resting for a bit the fatigue started to set in. Like a hammer. Just the few hours of daytime riding really drained me, plus, the beginnings of a sinus headache was approaching. I called Andy (lopeha) and told him where I was and what the timing was turning out to be like. Andy was kind enough to provide a wake-up call for me the next morning. But the Benadryl I took the before I went to bed (and the Waffle House dinner) had other wake-up plans for me. I remembered waking up to Andy's call and attempting to get out of bed, but two hours later the haze was just starting to wear off and I remembered he called but I took a few minutes to remember WHY he called. "Oh, yeah... I'm supposed to be... LEAVING!" I found some Tylenol Sinus DayTime at a drug store, popped a couple and headed out.
WHAT GOOD IS RAIN GEAR IF YOU CAN'T GET TO IT?
Ok, I have no problems riding in rain. But wind and I don't mix. Combine that with windwake from big rigs and I confess... I'm a wimp. After the first truck nearly blew me off the road I had to pull into a gas station/giftshop to wait it out. For an hour. It rained all the way from Amarillo to just inside the Oklahoma border. It didn't start out heavy but you freakin' Texans don't do anything "little", even rain. Thunder, lighting, wind... armadillos. I didn't even have a chance to get the rain suit out of the pack before I was soaked, but the one good thing about riding in this kind of rainy weather is no matter how soaked you get you're assured of being totally dry an hour after it stops. Blasting down the highway in 90+ degree weather will dry you out quickly.
OKLAHOMA'S FINEST
The assault on Oklahoma and Arkansas was draining but was totally expected. The backpack was getting heavier by the mile, though. I don't care how aerodynamic something is - weight is still weight. And the trucks were starting to get on my nerves (no offense, Andy). Highway riding means either staying 100 yards ahead of them or 100 behind, and when you have a unending train of them screaming down the road it's a constant battle between staying away and staying under 65 (uh, like I was going to do that anyway).
About 100 miles from Oklahoma City I found myself stuck behind four rigs doing about 75 and had another one coming up fast behind me. When you get within 300 feet of a truck the buffeting gets intense. My rule-of-thumb was to hang back until I had a clear passing lane that gave me at least 300 ft. of room once I passed to get in the clear. Once I had a clear shot I hit it. When you get in their wake it can get a bit unnerving but I've found that the best way to get through it is to just hug with your knees and keep your upper body loose, trying not to lock your arms in a death-grip. By the time I passed the last truck and moved back into the left lane I was at 110. As I started to slow down I spotted a car pull in right behind me. Hmmm... doesn't LOOK like a Crown Vic but still...
Man, I hate it when they put those stinkin' lights in the grill!
(Note to self: Oklahoma State Troopers not only have Busas but they have acquired Dodge Chargers, too.)
I made it to the side and pulled out the license (Registration and insurance is in the hump). The trooper slowly makes his way to me, eyeing the Cali license plate. I hand him the license and he he says,
"Long way from home. Where you headed?"
"North Carolina."
He does a double-take on the license, the plate, and the bike.
"On this?!"
"Yeah.
"No ****?!! You be careful, 'y hear?""
He handed me my license back. I quickly shoved it back in my wallet and took off.
WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL?
I thought about the surprised look the trooper gave me for a long time. Why was this such a big deal? I mean, so far on this trip I'd seen Harleys riding 2-up with tons of luggage, "Wings" with all the amenities of a five-star motel and 1200GS's that looked like they just did Dakar. Not to mention the various metric cruisers parked in motel lots. Why does it always seem like a big deal to people when I do it? Then it dawned on me: I've seen all kinds of bikes but only one other "sportbike" (a ZX-14 going the other direction earlier that morning). People just don't think of the Busa as a bike built for distance. To the novice it's just another crotch rocket, to the average rider it's just a bling-bling speed demon. I figure if I had Corbin BeetleBags people wouldn't think of it as such a big deal.
This time I saw more bikes on the road than before. Even met a guy on a fully dressed Harley Road King who was doing the same ride I was (although he started in Detroit and was working his way back home). He left Needles, California a day before I did and we met in Arkansas. He had a month of vacation time and was using it up on the road. Lucky stiff!
Hey! Found a Starbucks in Arkansas!
ARKANSAS AND MEETING UP WITH LOPEHA
Andy had emailed directions to his place a week earlier. Lopeha is a trucker, so naturally his directions are spot-on. If he says it'll take 3 hours, it'll take three hours. But directions to someone from the South take on a whole different meaning to someone from SoCal.
Quoting Andy:I'm sure you can find your to Arkieland so I'll start at the first turn off: I-40 East to Exit 127, US64. At the bottom of the ramp turn left & head East. You'll go to thru several stoplights but only one 4-way stop sign at the intersection of US64 & AR5. Turn right & go South on Hwy 5 continuing on straight thru 3 stoplights {the 2nd stop light the road will change to Hwy 321) and go another 6.7 miles where you will come upon the "split" of Hwy 321 & Hwy321 Spur. Stay to the left (nice 90 degree curve) & go another 2 miles & turn right into my driveway. I have a large black plastic mailbox with "2055" in 4" reflective numbers. I'll be near the phone if any problems arise.
First of all, the exits in Cali have names, not numbers, and although we'll be like the rest of the country in 2010 (exit numbers), it'll take 20 years for us to get the hang of it. When you're tired, numbers all seem to run together. It's a lot easier looking for "Manchester Avenue exit off the Harbor Freeway" rather than "Highway 321 Spur". Secondly, the distance between stoplights seems to be way different than in SoCal:
I swear, by the time I got to the third stoplight I thought I was at The CROT!
I don't remember what time I got to Andy's place but it was dark and I was beat. Andy and his wife were gracious hosts and they have two of the coolest dogs I've ever met. After a shower and a call to TWI telling asking them not to cancel my reservations I made the first major error of the trip. We were already running late and I didn't want to hold up Andy and Jimmy any longer so I suggested that we leave right after my coffee and shower. Andy asked me if I was sure I wanted to go without a little nap and I said no. Should have gotten a little shut-eye but wanted to press on.
By the time we got to the Dragon I was totally out of it! I was so exhausted that it was all I could do to just follow Andy's taillights. Going up the Dragon after 2200 tiring miles is one thing, but to do it while damn near falling asleep was sheer lunacy. God was definitely looking out for me because there were a few stretches that I really didn't remember a blessed thing! By the time we made it past TWI on the way to the house staying on my side of the double-yellows had turned into a mere suggestion and all I was doing was riding on sheer instinct. If Andy had ridden off the road into a brick wall I would have followed him. I WILL NEVER RIDE THAT TIRED OR SLEEPY EVER AGAIN. It was by the grace of God that I didn't become someone's hood ornament or become "one with a tree".
TO ANDY:
If it seemed like I was getting more and more ticked off while trying to find the Treetops believe me, it wasn't directed at you. I was tired, exhausted, sleep deprived and just frustrated with the situation. Not mad at you, at all!
... SEE NEXT POST...
PREFACE
First of all, the ride was cut short due to weather and timing. Didn't make it to Canada or Chehalis, Washington, but boy did I give it a good try. One thing I learned is if you want to get the most out of a trip like this you CAN'T be on a time schedule and in reality, it's at least a two week trip. I passed by so many places and sights that I wanted to stop and explore but couldn't. It made me sick. Thanks to all that kept track of me: Andy, Jimmy and Dennis. BlackFalcon that kept the updates flowing on his crazy dad. Lisa was bummed that I didn't make it to Chehalis but all is forgiven, and a big thanks to Junior and the rest of the Canadian Contingent for being understanding.
STARTING OUT
Remembering the experience I had the last time I did this I made a few changes to start the ride. My goal was to do a major speed run in the beginning to get the Iron Butt stuff out of the way. I figured (and I was correct) that I would be too drained after The Gap to do any kind of timed run. This time I also packed a bit more intelligently (or so I thought). Ditched the 17" PowerBook and borrowed BlackFalcon's iBook, small Sony Cybershot, rainsuit, spare shirt and underwear, and packed it all in my Axio Hardpack. I had sent my leathers and a change of clothes to Cyber a week earlier BY USPS, and they arrived with no problems. UPS bites (learned my lesson).
REVIEW:
The Axio Hardpack lived up to it's billing as a very aerodynamic backpack. Little to no wind buffeting. Comfortable on the back, but as the ride continued the weight became a huge burden.
CONCLUSION:
Vanity sucks. I have always liked the Busa hump. It is one of the most unique parts of this bike. Practical (it's hollow and can be used as storage) and aerodynamically functional. I've noticed a lot of East Coast riders ride sans hump and exclusively use the rear seat. Most of the West Coast folks I know ride with the hump, so I like to represent.
I also don't find the custom luggage for the Busa particularly attractive. But believe me, by the time I left The Gap the custom Corbins I saw on a couple of Busas looked like the most beautiful things I have ever seen. (Really... The black LE I saw leaving the CROT when I left was a member of Hayabusa.org and the set-up looked sweet). Instead of leaving at midnight I wanted to leave at 4:00pm on Saturday. That way I could do night riding all the way through Arizona, New Mexico and Texas before having to pull it over. Naturally things don't go exactly as planned and I left at 8pm. Late, but it would still put me into Texas by late morning. I pulled into Barstow around midnight and gassed up with the temperature nudging 90. Smart move
Made it through Arizona with no problems and rolled into Gallup early morning, still not hitting any major heat... yet.
They were testing a couple Smart Cars in New Mexico.
Because of my late start Amarillo by noon or Oklahoma by late afternoon wasn't going to happen. By the time I got to Amarillo I was pretty much cooked. The odometer said I had traveled 1068 miles so I was pleased that I did earn two IronButt patches, but now it was time to find a motel.
Last time I stayed in Amarillo was right in the middle of the annual Jehovah Witness convention and the only place available was a dump that I swear doubled as a hooker's office. I started to get concerned because the first three places I called had no vacancies (convention again), but I found a very nice Days Inn just off I40 that had a ground floor room available and at a very reasonable price. (The JW's just finished their convention)
After resting for a bit the fatigue started to set in. Like a hammer. Just the few hours of daytime riding really drained me, plus, the beginnings of a sinus headache was approaching. I called Andy (lopeha) and told him where I was and what the timing was turning out to be like. Andy was kind enough to provide a wake-up call for me the next morning. But the Benadryl I took the before I went to bed (and the Waffle House dinner) had other wake-up plans for me. I remembered waking up to Andy's call and attempting to get out of bed, but two hours later the haze was just starting to wear off and I remembered he called but I took a few minutes to remember WHY he called. "Oh, yeah... I'm supposed to be... LEAVING!" I found some Tylenol Sinus DayTime at a drug store, popped a couple and headed out.
WHAT GOOD IS RAIN GEAR IF YOU CAN'T GET TO IT?
Ok, I have no problems riding in rain. But wind and I don't mix. Combine that with windwake from big rigs and I confess... I'm a wimp. After the first truck nearly blew me off the road I had to pull into a gas station/giftshop to wait it out. For an hour. It rained all the way from Amarillo to just inside the Oklahoma border. It didn't start out heavy but you freakin' Texans don't do anything "little", even rain. Thunder, lighting, wind... armadillos. I didn't even have a chance to get the rain suit out of the pack before I was soaked, but the one good thing about riding in this kind of rainy weather is no matter how soaked you get you're assured of being totally dry an hour after it stops. Blasting down the highway in 90+ degree weather will dry you out quickly.
OKLAHOMA'S FINEST
The assault on Oklahoma and Arkansas was draining but was totally expected. The backpack was getting heavier by the mile, though. I don't care how aerodynamic something is - weight is still weight. And the trucks were starting to get on my nerves (no offense, Andy). Highway riding means either staying 100 yards ahead of them or 100 behind, and when you have a unending train of them screaming down the road it's a constant battle between staying away and staying under 65 (uh, like I was going to do that anyway).
About 100 miles from Oklahoma City I found myself stuck behind four rigs doing about 75 and had another one coming up fast behind me. When you get within 300 feet of a truck the buffeting gets intense. My rule-of-thumb was to hang back until I had a clear passing lane that gave me at least 300 ft. of room once I passed to get in the clear. Once I had a clear shot I hit it. When you get in their wake it can get a bit unnerving but I've found that the best way to get through it is to just hug with your knees and keep your upper body loose, trying not to lock your arms in a death-grip. By the time I passed the last truck and moved back into the left lane I was at 110. As I started to slow down I spotted a car pull in right behind me. Hmmm... doesn't LOOK like a Crown Vic but still...
Man, I hate it when they put those stinkin' lights in the grill!
(Note to self: Oklahoma State Troopers not only have Busas but they have acquired Dodge Chargers, too.)
I made it to the side and pulled out the license (Registration and insurance is in the hump). The trooper slowly makes his way to me, eyeing the Cali license plate. I hand him the license and he he says,
"Long way from home. Where you headed?"
"North Carolina."
He does a double-take on the license, the plate, and the bike.
"On this?!"
"Yeah.
"No ****?!! You be careful, 'y hear?""
He handed me my license back. I quickly shoved it back in my wallet and took off.
WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL?
I thought about the surprised look the trooper gave me for a long time. Why was this such a big deal? I mean, so far on this trip I'd seen Harleys riding 2-up with tons of luggage, "Wings" with all the amenities of a five-star motel and 1200GS's that looked like they just did Dakar. Not to mention the various metric cruisers parked in motel lots. Why does it always seem like a big deal to people when I do it? Then it dawned on me: I've seen all kinds of bikes but only one other "sportbike" (a ZX-14 going the other direction earlier that morning). People just don't think of the Busa as a bike built for distance. To the novice it's just another crotch rocket, to the average rider it's just a bling-bling speed demon. I figure if I had Corbin BeetleBags people wouldn't think of it as such a big deal.
This time I saw more bikes on the road than before. Even met a guy on a fully dressed Harley Road King who was doing the same ride I was (although he started in Detroit and was working his way back home). He left Needles, California a day before I did and we met in Arkansas. He had a month of vacation time and was using it up on the road. Lucky stiff!
Hey! Found a Starbucks in Arkansas!
ARKANSAS AND MEETING UP WITH LOPEHA
Andy had emailed directions to his place a week earlier. Lopeha is a trucker, so naturally his directions are spot-on. If he says it'll take 3 hours, it'll take three hours. But directions to someone from the South take on a whole different meaning to someone from SoCal.
Quoting Andy:I'm sure you can find your to Arkieland so I'll start at the first turn off: I-40 East to Exit 127, US64. At the bottom of the ramp turn left & head East. You'll go to thru several stoplights but only one 4-way stop sign at the intersection of US64 & AR5. Turn right & go South on Hwy 5 continuing on straight thru 3 stoplights {the 2nd stop light the road will change to Hwy 321) and go another 6.7 miles where you will come upon the "split" of Hwy 321 & Hwy321 Spur. Stay to the left (nice 90 degree curve) & go another 2 miles & turn right into my driveway. I have a large black plastic mailbox with "2055" in 4" reflective numbers. I'll be near the phone if any problems arise.
First of all, the exits in Cali have names, not numbers, and although we'll be like the rest of the country in 2010 (exit numbers), it'll take 20 years for us to get the hang of it. When you're tired, numbers all seem to run together. It's a lot easier looking for "Manchester Avenue exit off the Harbor Freeway" rather than "Highway 321 Spur". Secondly, the distance between stoplights seems to be way different than in SoCal:
I swear, by the time I got to the third stoplight I thought I was at The CROT!
I don't remember what time I got to Andy's place but it was dark and I was beat. Andy and his wife were gracious hosts and they have two of the coolest dogs I've ever met. After a shower and a call to TWI telling asking them not to cancel my reservations I made the first major error of the trip. We were already running late and I didn't want to hold up Andy and Jimmy any longer so I suggested that we leave right after my coffee and shower. Andy asked me if I was sure I wanted to go without a little nap and I said no. Should have gotten a little shut-eye but wanted to press on.
By the time we got to the Dragon I was totally out of it! I was so exhausted that it was all I could do to just follow Andy's taillights. Going up the Dragon after 2200 tiring miles is one thing, but to do it while damn near falling asleep was sheer lunacy. God was definitely looking out for me because there were a few stretches that I really didn't remember a blessed thing! By the time we made it past TWI on the way to the house staying on my side of the double-yellows had turned into a mere suggestion and all I was doing was riding on sheer instinct. If Andy had ridden off the road into a brick wall I would have followed him. I WILL NEVER RIDE THAT TIRED OR SLEEPY EVER AGAIN. It was by the grace of God that I didn't become someone's hood ornament or become "one with a tree".
TO ANDY:
If it seemed like I was getting more and more ticked off while trying to find the Treetops believe me, it wasn't directed at you. I was tired, exhausted, sleep deprived and just frustrated with the situation. Not mad at you, at all!
... SEE NEXT POST...
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