THE LONGEST RIDE

Everyone wants to take that ultimate ride cross-country on a motorcycle but in reality they can’t even imagine what it might take to do it.

It began with 4 days headed to the West Coast and 5 days returning back to the East Coast. Lots of advice from those who have maybe done half the trip but got pretty scary when I realized that hardly anyone had done it on twos. I wanted any and everyone to go with me to share the experience and to help out in case something went wrong. Going during the summer has it advantages but also gave me the perception that everyplace would be the same climate and temperature as where I started. Here is my story.

So my club brother is taking pictures and blogging about his little road trip. I am confused as to how he is literally 2 to 3 states apart everyday he posts then it hits me…this joker is crossing the country on his motorcycle. I began to think thru what I thought would be needed to make a trip like that. Have a plan, money, protection and a way to let my people know where I am if something happens. Too easy I said to myself without a second thought.

Day 1 . .

My plan had me riding 900 miles per day and stopping in a city where I knew someone to crash at their place for a the night. This was awesome to see some folks I hadn’t seen in a while and tell them about the ride getting there.

First stop was unplanned an I kicked it with my cousin in Dayton, Ohio I knew that it would screw up a few things down the road but I hadn’t seen this cat in a few years or more. A couple hours later was back on the road pushing when my plan fell through on staying with a old biker buddy in ST Louis. That was the second unplanned event but this one cost money and dipped into beer money. Day one had not ended well.

Day 2 . .

Day two started with my Harley Davidson Road Glide (Sherane) and me packed up and ready to roll at 5am. Getting up before the crack of dawn and getting on the road gave me the maximum time of riding all the daylight hours and reaching my destination before dark.

At least that’s what I had planned. Colorado Springs was at the end of the road that day and prayed no unexpected events or costs came up.

On my way to Colorado Springs started to give me different scenery and the first thing I realized going out west was the helmet law changed and with that the culture that went with it. I began to look like the dude from out of town. I wore my modular helmet where it was easily transformed from full face to bug catcher with a push of the button. I often wore the face down because the dry hot air was turning my face into potato skins. The locals wore shades and a doo rag or nothing at all. I did notice they weren’t going as fast as I was thou.

The end of day two was epic and a stark contrast to the day before. I was met about 50 miles out from Colorado Springs by one of favorite biker bros.

He rode with me and it sure felt good to ride with some one after about 1700 miles of riding solo. He was riding the same bike as me but I was having trouble keeping up. It was the elevation that had my bike loosing power. Something you just don’t think of prior to the ride. He enjoyed that too by the way. Did a quick tour of the city and stopped thru to see my Club Brother who just happened to be in town as well. Last stop before we got to his house was the liquor store to get some Coors to help me sleep. Figured it might have been better since it was made here. Made it to the house and my biker bro had to throw some meat on the grill and then had his neighbor and the fellas come over.

It was if I was staying a few days and didn’t have to get up at 5am again. SMH.

 

Day 3 . .

Day three began with trying to wake up for about 3 hours. Sleep and rest are rare jewels when you trying to move from one side of the country to the next without leaving the ground.

Coffee didn’t help and eating made it worst but somehow water managed to be the lifesaver. Word of advice, stay hydrated. The trip had me headed north for 80 to 90 miles before getting on I-80 and continuing west. This was also the day where I realized that the further west you go the least they care about how fast you go. It truly was as if the speed limit increased to 80mph and the cops were nowhere to be found. Although this sounded great I had a plan and sticking to it meant not going over budget. Speeding equaled more gas used up before fill ups and meant less beer money. Ride efficiently, even though it’s boring, you can get 225miles out of a tank of gas. Those things matter a lot when going crosscountry. After quite a few gas stops I finally made it to my day 3 destination in Boise, Idaho. My old biker buddy was there to great me with a beer and some dinner and showed me to my room where I would crash for the night. No issues for day three.

Day Four . .

The start of my last leg of the trip headed west was day four and it began like the rest except it was really cold around say 45 degrees. I kept asking myself if this was July and maybe I was in the southern hemisphere by mistake. So I pushed thru the mountains as far as I could until I had to stop to warm up.

I was getting some crazy looks at the rest area laying on the picnic table will full leathers trying to get the sun to warm me up. Even with all that and winter gloves going thru the mountains early before the sun can get up and over them is not good. My core had gotten cold so it seem nothing would warm me up. I pushed until I got to the next gas station and had to get coffee. Was freaked out because I had forgot that you can’t pump your own gas in Oregon. So I got the whole story of how and why they still pump your gas for you as a service and that it was included in the price of gas but he gave me the nozzle because I was on a motorcycle. That was funny to me. Finally got back on the road. This was supposed to be the shortest day and only 500 miles but it was the hardest day. After freezing my but off I ran into rain going thru the mountain pass heading toward Seattle. After getting through the mountain pass it was all sunshine after and 80 degrees. Final destination gave me renewed energy to find my peoples and get the Freedom Weekend started.

After seeing my people and celebrating for 3 days the time had come to get my mind right to head back East. My rear tire had worn a bit so I decided to go by the local shop and get a new one. A new tire and some rear brakes were installed and I felt confident things would be great for the right back. Little did I know there were a couple surprises on the horizon.

Day one on the ride back to the East Coast my Club brother met up with me and escorted me for 100 miles or so to see me off. Trouble was knocking at my door.

The death wobble had crept up on Sherane and I and it was a horrible feeling at 70mph. At one point my club brother riding behind me backed off and I knew he could see it. My Club brothers had pulled off and headed back and I kept pushing below the wobble speed of course. Decided to find the next Harley Dealer and have them check it out. After stopping at the HD Dealer and getting the death wobble checked out it was discovered that I had needed new rear bearings and steering head adjusted. So I got back on the road a few hundred dollars later and wouldn’t you know it? The death wobble was still there. Upset and frustrated all I could do was push.

The trip back east was done the same way as going over but now in reverse and day 2 was the beginning of some of the worst parts of the journey. First I had lost over 3 hours in trying to fix the death wobble so my first 900 mile day ending up being only 500 and day two had me 400 miles in the hole from the start.

There was no making up 400 miles in a day but had to push on. The clear skies begin to look ugly as I begin to go through the mountains of Utah. It would fluctuate between cloudy and clear so I put on my rain gear and kept it on. The ride continued and midway thru Wyoming the ugliness caught up with me and at a gas stop it was stay here or keep pushing. I kept pushing in an effort to make up some time. The more I rode the worst the rain got. It was also getting dark and there weren’t many places to get out of the rain so my plan was to push through the rain and then stop. Finally stopped at about 2AM just inside northern Colorado. This was probably the scariest part of my trip because there was about 5-10 feet of visibility in the rain and there were trucks passing me doing more than 60mph. I had made a decision to push until it stopped or slowed down and it seemed as if the land had made me commit to those terms because it was pitch black in the rain and not many place to pull off. It finally slowed down enough to stop I was not upset with the unplanned Hotel stay for that night.

While traveling on day three I bump into a fellow rider going the same way. At least for a few hours and it made the morning rain bit more bearable.

Stopped after the rain and chopped it up for a while then went our separate ways. The weather quickly went from crap to hot as hell but no matter the weather got to keep pushing. The end of the day could not come quick enough. I ended up with 3 hours of back roads at night and all I could think of was what if something happens. Again, I just pushed and made it do what it do and got to my buddy’s house and laid it down for the night.

Day four I was motivated and ready to roll. Got about 60 miles out and decided to stop and get a good breakfast. Breakfast was too good and made me sleepy and wanted to stop but somehow got hyped up and kind of upset at the same time when waves of bikers kept passing me going in the opposite direction.

The Round Up in Oklahoma was the next day and the brothers were headed down for the rally. I could have gone but didn’t have it in the plans and so far the plan is the only that kept me somewhat on course to get back home within 4 or 5 days. So after getting thru that episode I figured I could stop thru and see my cousin again in Dayton, Ohio. Stayed too long but anytime with him was good time because we hardly ever get to kick it. After leaving I realized I should have just stayed the night there because the only way to get home on day 4 was to drive all night long after being on the road all day long. So there I was and decided to just push until something happened. What happened was me getting into the state of Maryland and ran into some fog in the mountains. On top of the fog I was really sleepy. So I did what any other biker would do. I stopped at a rest stop threw my sleeping bag on a picnic table and slept for about 3 hours. End of day four.

My Last Day . .

My last day on the road, I woke up glad to be alive. Happy that no one had bothered me while I had just slept outside looking like a guy you really didn’t want to mess with.

Rolled up my sleeping bag and packed it up on Sherane and we were once again back on the road. I was about 200 miles from home and it felt like my trip from the West Coast had just begun all over again. I couldn’t get home fast enough. My fuel light had come on for the first time on this trip and all of a sudden Friday morning traffic had surrounding me. I was still a bit sleepy and just wanted to get home. Stopped and got a full tank of gas and it was enough to get me all the way home.

For the last time I got back in saddle and pushed until arriving back where I started. In disbelief it then sunk in that I had just completed the longest ride.