Showing posts with label BMW R1200R. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BMW R1200R. Show all posts

Sunday, October 9, 2016

When Your Ride Needs Juice

Ecuador information will be forthcoming, but in the meantime...a teaser. 

The GS was laid up and half apart in an attempt to ready her for the Multiple Sclerosis ride.  So what to do when we want to ride?  Take out the R!

Since Oilburner hasn't ridden her to work this year, the R12R has been a little neglected.  Unfortunately she wasn't on a battery tender and had to be jumped. That didn't put a damper on our day, we merely packed the jumper cables and took off.  I had my hopes that the ride would put the juice back into her and things would be fine.


Hopes but not expectations. 

We didn't have a firm destination.  Thought we would head south to Monticello and see what restaurants remained. Taking tons of backroads that we had never seen, we meandered around and yimmed and yawed.  Hunger was taking over and we spotted a Firehouse Sub that would fill the void. 

Filled the voids in our tummies, but not the belly of my beast.  She wouldn't start. Barely turned over.  Time to get that cable out, but decided to perform that quick surgery on a level area, rather than the slope we were on.  I let her coast backwards.  Gave a couple bunny hops to start our way across the parking lot, and decided to try and bump start her.  A couple more mph and it might have worked.  There just wasn't enough oomph.  However, whatever the move did, it gave her enough of something that she fired up quickly.  Wasn't going to dare shut her down though.

But we needed fuel...  :(  The gas station next door was one of many that were suffering from the pipeline issues, and was out of fuel.  We'd get fuel elsewhere, but turned the bikes back north to hit the dealership and get a new battery. We calculated it out, and figured the battery had to be 6-7 years old. It had done us well.

Nothing exciting to report.  Good day, decent ride, new battery, saw the techs I hadn't seen in awhile.  Couple dollars poorer, but the R is worth it.  It was great riding her again. 

Monday, January 7, 2013

Visitor From Afar...

There is something exciting and frightening about having a visitor that you have never met come to stay. The exciting part is actually getting to "see" someone face to face that you have been talking to through email, Skype, or phone calls for over a year. The frightening part is what are you going to do with this person while they are here and will you actually get along with them.

So Roger of All Things Rogey fame was coming to visit after Christmas. While he gave me months of warning, of course I wait to clean house until the last minutes. Which would have been semi-okay if that cleaning didn't actually cause the swapping of two rooms in the house. Oh well. Oilburner and I got as far as we could in the process and what would be, would be after that. No one ever died, in my house, of a few piles of magazines and a little dust. (My mother's mortification doesn't count...)

Right off the bat, Roger proves his usefulness by catching an earlier flight from L.A. Meaning that I could pick him up at 8 from the airport, instead of 10. Yeehaw. This also meant that we could take him to our favorite Malaysian restaurant for dinner. Too bad that was about the best food we ate for the time he was here.

Nothing was planned for Friday. Anticipating that he might want to sleep a goodly portion of the day. But a much delayed response to a text message (from before Christmas) had us scheduling a meeting with a bike in North Georgia. Roger was dragged along, getting to be the first person to ride this new, odd bike. He was also uniquely introduced to redneck, backwoods Georgia during mud and hunting season. Resulting in the start of many gun control discussions.

With his only nutritional requirement of the entire trip being "BBQ", we took him to a local joint for dinner that has given us mixed feelings. They did nothing to change our opinion of them this time around, unfortunately. The night was salvaged with a trip into downtown Atlanta to a great pub with live music. We had an in since a riding buddy is good friends with the musician. So during breaks we were regaled with stories from a recent Rock Cruise she was on.

Saturday saw us hitting the road for Savannah. One thing Roger has said in the past to me is the intrigue of being able to ride so many miles in a day due to our highways, interstates, and abundant land! Well...he was introduced to this first hand today. We took the longer, more scenic route going through much farmland and a few small cities. This gave him the opportunity to understand the distances the U.S. has to offer, with the wide open spaces. He promptly fell asleep, not enjoying the "boring" roads.

He perked up quickly though when he was given the opportunity to drive the rental car. Yeah, he wasn't gonna turn that one down at all. And he did quite well, negotiating a couple of turns, dealing with stop signs and stop lights.

Savannah is a beautiful city with so many things to see and do. We spent time shopping, looking around the squares at the architecture, taking the tour bus to save our footsies, and plenty of underwhelming food. Meh. Tourist season (for New Years) brought out the mediocre food.

The highlight of the trip was were we stayed. I found a cottage through AirBnB that was spectacular. Laura's Cottage, built in the late 18th Century, was a great backdrop for the trip. An original, authentic cottage, used in quite a few films, and featured on many local ghost tours. I found it interesting that we were staying in a cottage that was older than the inclusion of New Zealand into the fold of the British Empire (in 1840). Hmmm...

Remind Roger to tell you the story of his addition to the ghost tours...

We decided to change our plans and leave New Year's Eve instead of New Year's Day. This allowed us to set some fireworks off with a neighbor to ring in the New Year. Nothing says "Welcome" like blowing up some black powder.

New Year's Day was very wet, with rain all day. It was spent mostly indoors following Roger around the shopping mall. I was good for awhile and shopped a little. I picked some work pants and shirts out for Oilburner. (Don't say I never shop for you!) I had fun watching Roger's jaw drop at the sheer volume of camo gear and guns on display in Bass Pro Shops. He just couldn't get over the guns that could be touched, and that the gun counter was the busiest place in the entire store. After awhile I couldn't take anymore and roosted on benches outside of the stores while he went in and browsed. I swore he ditched me at the Nike store. I couldn't see how he was in there so long! But I wasn't about to go looking for him. He could text me when he was done.

Only one trip had to be made to the car to drop bags off. A second trip would have been in order, but we were so close to completing the loop of the mall. Instead, I offered to take the bags and let him finish the last shop while I waited in the car. Ahh...got lots of reading done. And Roger made up for the empty space and shallow poundage of his suitcase.

The rest of the days were a blur. Roger crossed state lines into Alabama to visit Barber Museum. We went to a local gun range and let him fire a couple handguns. (Take that second amendment, Roger!) Attended our local Shakespeare Tavern, preview night for "The Tempest". He was even allowed to swing a leg over the coveted R1200R bike...letting him ride a motorbike on the "right" side of the road. Poor guy, having to test a new bike on a new side of the road, with new rules for stop signs that are foreign to him, all under threat of death if anything happened to my bike. He performed rather well given the pressures. :)

Throughout all of this we talked, laughed, and drank. We swapped riding stories, riding roads, political views, second amendment rights, sports (woefully lacking on our side), independent wealth, and living a life on a bike. Roger, thank you for visiting and bringing a breath of fresh air, making New Zealand come alive. I hate you now that I have to go back to work, when all I can do is daydream about Lake Taupo, Cape Reinga, Mount Aspiring National Park, living off my bike while traveling across the U.S., heck traveling across the world.

Godspeed in your travels in San Francisco. I don't think it will be difficult for you. Hope to see you on your side of the pond rather soon. :)

 

Monday, May 14, 2012

Does Anyone Else Have to Put Up With This?


I'm all for a clean bike, but this is taking it to extremes. Dismantling the bike, piece by piece, and washing it in the kitchen sink is not productive!

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hehehe...ok...that isn't quite how the story goes...but it sounds good.

Funny the measures that Oilburner will go to to ride my bikes! This time around, he caught a big nasty screw in the rear tire.


The resulting situation looked like this:


Therefore the days ride looked like this:


Aahhhh...so nice to see the girls together. Luckily I was going to take the R1200R out today. Oilburner doesn't get to ride the R1200R. He is not responsible enough not to pop wheelies... It has been awhile since I have been able to ride the "R"...and it felt GREAT!! Such a smooth engine, so much power, aahhhh. Smiles all around.

But what I haven't told you is that this wasn't the first time. Back in March we had another day of perfect weather and hadn't been out for awhile. Again...Oilburner's bike looked like this:


Desperately waiting for a new pair of shoes. So the days ride looked Iike this:


The first time my girls were head to head. I'm so proud!!

Monday, October 31, 2011

What's In A Number, Part II

Don't get me wrong, I don't much care that my bike has 42,000 miles (67,600 km) on it.  I am quite proud of that number in all honesty.  My shop tells me that I am one of their higher mileage bikes, and I like that.


Oilburner and I never purchase something with our eye on value retention or resale.  We purchase what is good and plan on keeping it until it is worn out.  After all, I drive a truck that is 18 years old with 230,000 miles (370,000 km) on it.  And yes, we bought it new.  It has been paid off for over a decade and hasn't required much work beyond normal maintenance.  The engine should be good until 400,000 miles (645,000 km) at least. 

So mileage doesn't mean too much to us.  But I know it is important to some people.  A friend was looking at used GT's and RT's that had 50,000 miles and 75,000 miles (80,500 km and 120,700 km).  He was seriously concerned over longevity.  We told him that shouldn't be the only limiting factor.  But to him it was a deal breaker.

Of course, mileage really depends on your expectations.  It might be a different story if you want a daily or long distance rider.  Higher mileage may be less appealing.  A collectors item that will be ridden less frequently might not be a problem.

Now, I did forget to add the winking smiley to the end of the last post.  I have no qualms about keeping my R1200R in my garage.  Truthfully, it would be next to impossible to ask me to get rid of it.  (Sometimes I get really attached.  Just ask Oilburner.  He's been trying to bribe me for 17 years to get my truck.)

There are a couple people out there wanting to get their fingers on my R1200R.  But I ain't listing to them.  So yes, the beautiful R1200GS with the DOHC engine is appealing.  After all, I have been drooling over GS' for years.  It has always been a bike that was unattainable to me, a dream: too tall, too heavy, I don't need that kind of power.  My eye sparkles and delights looking at the GS, but never at the expense of my "R".  I just can't give up the bike I love for one that I don't know.

Rest assured.  The R1200R is remaining in my garage.
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But that doesn't mean I don't have enough love to share...


So that "number" is now TWO.  hehehe.  I'm catching up to you Brady.  :)  And rIePe...have you ever been accused of being a prophet?  ;)

Thursday, October 27, 2011

What's In A Number

24,901.55 - circumfrence of the earth at the equator, measured in miles
5280 - feet in a mile
451 - degrees in Fahrenheit at which paper burns
42 - The answer to Life, The Universe, and Everything


When can something be nicely worn in without being worn out? 

For kicks, Oilburner and I have been talking bikes.  (Like we've never done that before...)  I was wondering where is that magic mileage sweet spot when a bike goes from "nicely broken in" to "too many miles".  Where is that perfect line of a bike still being marketable versus someone having prejudices against the mileage.

My baby went in for her 42,000 mile service yesterday.  I didn't even look at the new DOHC Classic R1200R.  Well...I didn't look much.

I sat with the service manager and chatted and laughed.  I stood in the service bay talking with the tech working on my baby.  I played with the used oil, no metal shavings, no burnt smell.  I inspected the valves, the chains, the springs.

Then Oilburner arrives...

He starts looking around.  He starts talking.  He starts asking me if I am going to take a test ride.

I've never demo'ed a bike before.  I've never had enough confidence to jump on a bike that I don't own and take it for a spin.  I mean, how much am I going to have to pay if anything happens to a motorbike that I don't own.  This is the same reason that I never ride someone else's bike.  I've even been resistant to riding Oilburner's bikes in the past.  I had only ridden any of his previous bikes once each.

Somewhere along the way that changed.  And I can't pinpoint when it occurred.  A couple months ago, when he informed me that I would be riding his new bike home I didn't bat an eye.  Didn't have any queasy butterflies in my tummy.  I hopped on it and took it for a rrriiidddeeeee.  I'm suspecting my trepidation left me for good after Oilburner totaled his bike.  My subconscious thought process might have followed something along the lines that if he totaled a bike in one fell swoop, there wasn't much worse that I could do.

So back to the bike shop...

I decided to take that test ride finally.  Steve, our friendly, neighborhood sales guy, rode the Classic R1200R off the showroom floor.  Yes, I said rode.  It went over to the service bay to get a couple pounds of air.  Then she stood in the parking lot waiting for me to take her out.

We enjoyed a quick little romp, unfortunately rush hour traffic was closing in.  I took her over to a short, twisty little road I know.  Autos prevented full utilization of the best curves.  We also scooted over to the main thoroughfare to enjoy the high speeds against traffic.  She was an enjoyable bike.  There wasn't a "wow" factor.  She was so similar to my bike.  There didn't seem to be enough differences to justify a trade.  She was nice, just not nice enough.

Oilburner and I took a seat at the table, sipping some sodas and talking about the ride.

All the while is a big, beautiful R1200GS sitting in the sun, gleaming in front of me.  Hmmm...  In for a penny, in for a pound.

Steve checks it over and sets the seat on its lowest position.  I swing around to turn her on, only to realize the key has suddenly disappeared.  Explain that one to me...  Yeah.  Steve left the key in the seat lock.  hehe

We only get to spend a short time together.  Rush hour traffic had set in.  Any direction we traveled was going to be hindered and just spent burning a clutch up.  We went to a short little road with a couple of representative curves.  Wow.  WOW!  Four miles was way too short a time to get a feel for anything.  All I know is that I wouldn't mind spending a couple hundred more miles getting to know it.

So what would you guess that mileage line is on my precious bike?  I was thinking 50,000 miles might be getting there.  Boy was I wrong. It seems that my baby's time has passed.  Those who didn't know her don't want her.  She can be her 2007 model self, but would need to have 30 or so thousand miles on her, instead of the 42 that she has.  Finicky damn men.  Apparently no or old model doesn't matter.  But they can't have been well ridden. ;)

Darn.  I guess I will just have to keep her in the stable.

Monday, September 12, 2011

What's It Worth To You?

Baby Ruth candy bar:
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$0.89
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Diet Mtn Dew:
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$1.29
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A stranger excitedly exclaiming that yours is the superior bike within Oilburners hearing, even though it is sitting next to a shiny, new, loaded BMW with the new DOHC engine:
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PRICELESS!!!

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Western Corners - Part 3

It took stretching, food, diet coke and some jokes with the wait staff to really wake me up.  I headed on down the road refreshed.  Mr. Oilburner and I had ridden this area a couple weeks ago and nothing had really changed.  So I wasn't needing to sightsee.  The main highway actually bisects the Fort Benning Army Base.  There is one sign I would love to have an image of, however, I am not stopping on a highway going through a military base and whipping the camera out.  Especially when the sign I want the image of is a directional sign for Sniper School.  You will just have to imagine it on your own.

This area of the state is under-developed.  Not many farms or houses.  Though they are here.  No, this area is for tree harvesting pure and simple.  The terrain isn't quite as hilly as the north, but there are still a few peaks that give you a view of the miles upon miles of trees.

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 I've heard that New Zealand does not  have any poisonous spiders or snakes.  I've also heard that 22 of the 21 species of poisonous snakes live in Georgia.  (...think about it...)  These thistles are not poisonous, but given the threatening appearance it should be.

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I'm on some of the craziest back roads to reach the park; back alleys of a town of twenty houses, barely paved roads cutting between farm fields, some strange cross road in the middle of tall, thin pine trees and dense ground cover.  Approaching the park from the direction I did is obviously more fun than the main roads.  And I can't believe that I am in the park when I see a large swimming pool.  But given the industrial design and purely functional lifeguard tower, I have to be.

I''m still not seeing anything I would associate with Indian Mounds.  Until I encounter a mown field and look over my right shoulder.  Temple Mount is towering over me.

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I have definitely entered the park from the less traveled direction.  The visitors center is the last thing before leaving the park.  :)  And I find it a little strange that there is only one car in the lot.  Is the recession taking its toll?

For all intents, this place should be open, but it it looking a little desolate.  So I decide to give it a peek.  Low and behold they are open!  And this is where my road weariness becomes evident.  When the ranger asks me what she can help we with my basic response was "I don't know."  When she asks what I want to do, I stammer "See the mounds, but I won't be doing much hiking in these boots."  But otherwise I just don't know my options.  She looks at me as if I am mildly retarded and kindly lists out a couple options:

  1. Pay the $5 park fee and wander outside to my hearts content
  2. Pay $4.28 to wander through the museum, watch a short video AND wander outside to my hearts content
And by-the-way, there is a partially excavated mound INSIDE the museum.

hmmm...Air conditioning, watch a video, see a mount up close for less money?  That's for me!

I pay my fee and we meet up again in the room with the excavated mount and video screen.  It's a great room with seating set up in a stair fashion, and I have it all to myself.  The lights go down, the video starts and my boots come off.  My feet are burning up and I am hot.  I had haphazardly pulled off my thermal shirt, but I was going to have to go to the restroom to remove my thermal pants.  (Temperature/body cooling always seems fine while riding, but try walking in the heat with silk thermals and they will overheat you in seconds!)

I have never removed my boots for a refresh before.  I always wait until the end of the riding day, seeming like too much work to get back into them.  Boy is that WRONG!!  I sat there leaning against the next riser and scooched by butt backwards a little.  The seating/steps were so long that the platform that I was sitting on hit me about mid-calf.  So i was sitting there like a little kid with my legs stuck straight out and just flipping my feet up and down.  Just that little air flow produced a good windchill on my hot and sweaty feet.  Sometimes my attention wandered from the video as I concentrated on the cool feeling of my feet.  Pure bliss.  As the video ends I hustle back into my boots.  Hopefully the earthen smell of the Indian Mound masks my stinky boots.  :)

Now that I have my history I am fee to wander the mound and museum.  I'm not sure how I feel about a partially excavated mound being on display.  Part of me wishes we would leave sacred places well enough alone.  But another part of me understands mankind's curiosity and this allowed people to learn about another culture.

This mound happens to be the burial mound of a chief.  The pit holding the ashes of the chief is 9 feet deep and the height of the mound is 11 feet.  Please note that it is illegal ti display Native American remains.  All skeletons are reproductions.

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In building the museum they build a platform walkway over and around the excavated mount that really makes this a treat.

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Temple Mound is 57 feet high (17.3m).  And those 83 steps aren't terribly fun in motorcycle boots... :(  But climb it I did for some great views.

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Can you believe there is at least one place left in the US this is not bisected by cell phone antennae?  I found it!

I was getting tired, but Bainbridge was only about an hour down the road.  It is 5 PM by this time. Was I prepared for another hour on the road?  Could I, in good conscience, call this my Southwest Corner?  I don't have to head home tomorrow, but the thunderstorms and severe weather is predicted for Saturday.  It would be nice to snuggle on a sofa instead of ride through thunderstorms.

I decide to head towards Bainbridge.  Five miles down the road is a Day's Inn that appears clean, well kept and empty.  The only vehicles are huge powerline utility trucks.  I again ponder my moral "southwest" and pull into the lot.  Still no cell coverage to call Oilburner and mull it over with him.  If there isn't cell coverage now, there won't be any in 2 hours and that means no talking with Oilburner at all tonight.  How am I gonna live without talking to sweetie?!?!  No way.  I'm going to Bainbridge.  This way I also don't have any moral dilemmas :)  Oilburner pointed out later that we could have Skyped.  But I'm glad I didn't remember.

The ride into Bainbridge is easy.  The hotel is nice.  There are about 5 restaurants/fast food joints within walking distance.  The hotel is directly behind a gas station for fuel in the morning.  The Holiday Inn next door is newer, but here my bike is parked directly outside my room door.  No such amenity next door.  hehe

I go back and forth between reading a book, playing on the internet and watching Monster Quest on cable.  (We don't have satellite or cable at home.  We rely on rabbit ears.  So it can be a treat seeing some interesting shows.)

I toss and turn most of the night.  Not really sure what was on my mind, or if the bed isn't terribly comfortable.  But I am ready to get on the road in the morning and see something new.  I have the requisite fight with the air pump in the morning.  This time I remembered to check air pressure before suiting up.  And confirmed that it is the same two pounds low as it was yesterday.  I planned ahead for that and was just going to air up at the gas station.  The trouble??  I only have 3 of the required 4 quarters.  And I'm not leaving all of my stuff in the back lot of this forsaken gas station to get the last one.  I resort to unpacking one bag to get at the pump and just give it another go.  I let it chug away for awhile and the on-board needle jumps from 34 to 44 in the blink of an eye.  I've been siting here watching it and there wasn't any incremental increase, just this gigantic jump.  But it is infinitely easier to let air out and all is well.  Sweating and hot and grouchy, but well.
I believe I hit my groove yesterday at the mounds.  Stress and worry had left me.  I was good to stop and see some sights.  I was thoroughly enjoying myself.  My big decision for the route home was to take a more direct, back roads route or hit the slab.  The back roads would be enjoyable but the slab led in the direction of the ONLY "Q" city in Georgia.  And also near the current location of the Georgia tag.  Hmm..."Q" wins.  I don't know when I will be down this way again.  (Yeah, I know precedence says I will be back within the month.  LOL.)

The highway I am on, heading east, is one of the "updated" ones that is four lanes, divided.  Makes it safer, but usually bypasses the interesting stuff, so you have to keep a sharp eye out.

I can't help but stop to collect a "C" city.  I missed the town and should have circled back for a picture of the post office, but it's still cool.

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Looks like I have found another "W" city.  I love the old grocery story for Whitesville, but I prefer the police cruiser for Whigham.  :)

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Then I spied a strange historic site sign as I sped past it.  Only to see another decrepit house over the edge of the road on the other side.  Nothing unusual in itself, however, the rock monument and plaque is.  I do turn around for this.

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There isn't any information, just the plaque with the name of the place.  The internet reveals a little history, but not much.  And I'm no daring enough to take the bike down the rutted dirt road, but Google map view reveals that it might have been interesting. The Paul Hansell Bennet Wetlands Site was donated by said man to preserve the wetlands in this area that were partially destroyed by the building of the highway.  I read that it is a good place to bird watch.

Back on the road and only three miles to "Q"!  Yay!  GPS says there isn't a post office, which can't be correct.  But how do you navigate to someplace that software says doesn't exist?  I stopped at the first spot that displayed "Q", but it isn't very attractive.



Another mile into town brings me to the city square with the courthouse...but no name.

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Still, there is some great architecture here.

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After Quitman it is ALL Super Highway to Atlanta.  Boring but quick.  I still have one more detour before heading that front tire directly home.  There is the matter of this Georgia TAG sitting for the last two weeks down south.  A small detour takes me to "E"nigma.  The tag and another "E" city in one shot.  Ephesus or Enigma.  I can't decide between the two as they are both so cool!

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Only two more things of interest occur on the way home.  The winds are kicking up fiercely as the front starts moving through.  Oilburner calls to tell me the wind is picking up in Atlanta, not knowing that I have already been fighting with them the last couple of hours.

And then comes the police...  I'm only 90 minutes from home, but I absolutely have to stop for a stretch and get myself out of the saddle.  (Reinforcing the term "saddle sore"!)  The next off-ramp doesn't have any nearby amenities, so I just pull over on the on-ramp.  This isn't generally a busy area.  However, just across the way is the Argirama...an extremely busy area when an event is going on.  I can see them gathering, but nothing too bad.

So I am standing on the side of the on-ramp and I happen to see a police car traveling down the frontage for the Agrirama.  I don't think much of it until I hear a powerful engine revving up and I look up in time to see that the cruiser has turned around and is speeding up the frontage road to the entrance.  My only guess is that he saw me and is coming to investigate.  And I am correct.  I feel it is in my best interest to remove my helmet now, hopefully to show him I am not a threat.  When he takes all of 3 seconds to reach me from half a mile away I thank him for his prompt concern and attention and assure him that I am OK.  All the while thinking in the back of my mind that my bike had better start when I get back on!!

:)

All is well that end's well.  Of course I have to deal with crazier drivers the closer to Atlanta I get.  Knowing that I am getting tired and that it has been a long day I just take it easy.  Home is good to see, but depressing at the same time.  The adventure is over for another while.

The storms ripped through the state.  Lots of rain, thunder and tornadoes.  We were spared.

It's nice to be home.  I am so excited about visiting my five little corners.  Hmm...how about other states?  :)  Still find it humerous that Oilburner has only visited one.  Hehehe.  He has some catching up to do.

I can feel the pull of the open road leading me further astray for longer and more distant destinations.  Oh when will I get to fulfill those dreams???



My total trip mileage was 851 miles for the three days.


The weather was perfect, except for the impending storms.

Things that I learned:
    • Check tire pressure BEFORE getting all your gear on
    • Pack the compressor where it is somewhat accessible
    • Take your boots off and let your feet cool down regularly - does wonders for your outlook
    • Pink Floyd's "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" sounds great on empty country lanes with a fog over the fields