I Exist

07/29/07
Origin: New Meadows, Idaho (Last Chance Campground)
Destination: West Yellowstone, Montana
Mileage: 480

I woke up early to the sounds of the forest. I repacked all my gear and plotted the course for the day. I wanted to reach Yellowstone, or at least be close to it by dusk. These curious kids in the picture stared at my bike with amazement. I was amused at the sight of the small child walking a dog at least twice his weight and almost just as tall. The way out through the two mile gravel road was not nearly as nerving as last night. I think I just got over the fear of riding on anything else by pavement. I spent the day traveling through valleys between the mountains and along side white water rapids. I looked at kiakers in the river thinking that they were crazy, then realized the irony as I screamed through a curve at full lean scrapping my pegs. The roads were in good condition except for a few spots where rocks had fallen onto the road, or should I say small boulders. My heart jumped out of my chest after I thought I saw a huge rock right in front of my tire as I rounded a corner. It was just my mind playing tricks on me. The roads were literally carved out of the mountain. It was interesting to imagine how some of the mountain passes had to of been constructed.

I made it to Arco, Idaho where I took an extended break. I was living off of beef jerky and eating as I was riding that morning so I didn’t have to stop for lunch. I am pretty much limited to anything cylindrical since it has to fit through my helmet. So I “treated” myself to some lamp-lit pizza at a gas station. Various people saw my plates and asked, “Illinois eh? Where ya headed?” People always think that riding a sport bike for such distances would causes a sore back. I always explain the various riding positions that are possible and explain how comfortable it really is, but most just shake their head in disbelief.

From Archo the roads died down and become fairly straight which I welcomed at that point. I made it just outside of Yellowstone and got a room for the night. My body was tired, and I was mentally exhausted. Luckily there was a bar open across the road. I sat outside and enjoyed the ability to smoke. I rarely found establishments that allowed smoking. I sipped from very strong Jack and Coke, read some Dawkins and unknowingly got drunk (off alcohol, not evolution) after only two drinks.

I had been on the road for a week now and I was just half way to Phoenix. The reality of this life changing move started to sink in. “No turning back now.” I kept my anxieties at bay and just focused on the road ahead.

It’s new to me so I’m posting it up.

Why can’t life be this simple? You wake up, enjoy a coffee and a bagel leisurely then practice some karate and play some croquet. After lunch you hit the slip n’ slide, have a water fight and then play some badminton. After an eventful day you gather firewood, roast some marshmallows and tell scary stories until it’s time for bed. There’s appealing about such a simple life.

I just wonder how these guys do it all on 4 hours of sleep. Keep in mind that they start rolling out their sleeping bags at 2am, so you have to figure that it will be another 15 until they get settled and actually fall asleep. I’m guessing there’s more than just caffeine in that morning coffee.

For those of you unaware of Google Themes, check out this.

6am

8am

10am

Noon

2pm

4pm

6pm

8pm

10pm

midnight

2am

4am

I’m making a break in my series to post up some pictures of my new place. I’m pretty happy with it. It’s my first time having a place to myself. It’s about 10 minutes away from my work (commuter lanes are awesome!). I haven’t any noise issues with neighbors, so I think I’m going to like it here. Click the slide show to go directly to the picture album.

07/28/07
Origin: Couer D’Alene, Idaho
Destination: New Meadows, Idaho (Last Chance Campground)
Mileage: 271

I had about a day and a half off the saddle and I was anxious to get back on. I headed south to wrap around the mountains that split Idaho in half. There were no roads that cut through them so I didn’t have much choice. I thought I would push myself and try for another 500-600 mile day but I only made it shy of 300. The mountain roads slowed me down but the ride was full of great roads and beautiful scenery. I was surprised by the variety of landscape that I traveled through. Within an hour I would ride through curvy switchbacks and climb in altitude, and then I would coast back down the mountain and suddenly enter into a clear open field. I didn’t drop below 6000 feet so I was still pretty high up. The fields had open ranges with cattle along side the road. There were no fences, but they couldn’t get to far. The mountains acted as natural barriers and the long straight roads made a perfect scenic outlook. I passed by fire threat level signs many times. They all read, “Extremely High.” I saw smoke off in the distance on at least three occasions, and fighter fighting helicopters passed overhear twice. I was too entertained by the spectacle to feel like I was in any danger.

The sun was starting to set and I was looking for campgrounds along the way. I would pass one after the other thinking, “Eh, I’ll go a little farther.” Finally I saw a sign: “Last Chance Campground.” I took this as a sign…figuratively speaking, and turned in. I was met with two miles of loose gravel road that led to the campground. I had never ridden on gravel for more than a couple feet so the idea of continuing made me very uneasy. In the end the reason I kept going was for the sake of a new experience. So i crawled along at 5-10MPH with my eyes locked on the road, looking for large rocks. I barely looked beyond 5 feet ahead of my bike. What seemed like an eternity finally ended once I made it to the campground. I unpacked all my gear and prepared for my first night of camping. The sound of a nearby creek drowned out all the weird and creepy sounds that would normally cause me to wonder what thing and how big it was that made it. Overall my camping experience was very enjoyable . I got a good nights rest and hoped that the next day’s pace would be quicker so that I could make it to Yellowstone on schedule.

07/27/07
Origin: Couer D’Alene, Idaho
Destination: Couer D’Alene, Idaho
Mileage: 0

I slept in until 11. It felt good to wake up and not worry about re-packing my gear, re-securing my luggage and re-routing for the new day’s travel. This was my off day. I caught up on some RSS feeds and other computer stuff that I had been deprived of while I was on the road. My friend had gotten off of work early that day so she was home about an hour after I rolled out of bed. It was a simple day, but simplicity was just what I needed. The trip to the grocery store that had lost power was out of the ordinary, but amusing. I bought a new chain for my bike and the next morning took it in to be replaced. The condition of my bike was weighing on my conscious and it was a relief to get it repaired and have confidence that I could make my way through the second half of my journey safely.

The majority of the day was spent just sitting and talking. The majority of my interactions with people for the previous week had been minor exchanges. The routine phrases reactively spoken during purchases, a comment from a fellow motorcyclist or an inquiry into my trip that stemmed from the observation of my Illinois license plates. It was nice to hold a conversation for more than 45 seconds and didn’t take place at a gas station.

I had meticulously planned my trip up to this point, but I had left the rest unplanned. So I had to decide where I was going and how fast of a pace I was to ride to it. Luckily my friend had some maps she didn’t need and we plotted a course according to my trusty guide (Motorcycle Journeys Through the Rocky Mountains) with a highlighter. This proved to be a huge help throughout the rest of the trip. I plan on using this method again on any trip of this length.

We had a lovely dinner and the night continued on with more conversation and the inevitable smoking that always seems to follow. The next morning we took a tour of the lake. Couer D’Alene was a quaint and charming town. It was a refreshing break from the grind of the road. Early in the afternoon I hit the road again through the twisty mountain roads of Idaho towards Yellowstone National Park.

07/26/07
Origin: Medicine Hat, Alberta
Destination: Couer D’Alene, Idaho
Mileage: 500

It was day four of my trip and I already had to change plans. Due to the delays I encountered the previous day, along with the my chain that was continually stretching I decided to head to Couer D’Alene, Idaho. I was staying with a friend there. I wanted to see Banff National Park (just west of Calgary), but I suppose this gave me extra from to take it easy in the Rockies.

It was another hot day, at least in the 90s. Yes, hot in Canada. It was a surprise to me, and a burden in my luggage with all the cold weather gear I packed. I passed from Alberta, the “Wild Rose Country” of which I saw not one, into British Columbia. I could see the ridges of the Canadian Rockies in the distance which made me excited about the upcoming roads.

Just before I went into the mountains I passed by a hundred or so windmills. Some were small, but others like this one must have been 80 feel tall with 50 foot blades. I hear people in America criticizing wind power as a defacement of our natural beauties, but I found just the opposite effect. It seemed to accent the landscape with man’s fingerprint. When it comes to energy, man’s mark in nature is usually destructive. For myself, the view was actually enhanced while witnessing the natural landscape and a clean source of energy working in concert.

I rose into the mountains and was relieved by the cooler air. I had no reception all throughout the mountains that day and had tried to get in touch with my friend to let her know I would be there a day early. I managed to squeeze out a text message, but the only feedback I got was a missed call and a waiting voice mail that I couldn’t access. I passed back into the states through Idaho and got enough reception to find out that I would have a place to stay for the night.

07/25/07
Origin: Winnipeg, Manitoba
Destination: Medicine Hat, Alberta
Mileage: 650

I didn’t wake up as early as I wanted to. I was on the road around 9am, but I imagined myself starting off at sunset. Snooze button wins again. It was a straight shot across Canada on its highway 1. I was very idealistic and wanted to ride 800 miles that day. Manitoba was very flat and uninteresting, but the novelty of being in another country, albeit Canada, made the ride more enjoyable. It took a while to get accustomed to the metric system on the traffic signs. The estimates in kilometers to the upcoming towns appeared farther, so the miles, kilometers actually, went by fast.

Around noon I stopped for lunch in some no name town east of Verdin. I was on a good pace and I shoved off to continue on. I made a left onto a small street to get back on the highway and suddenly my bike lost its acceleration and a loud clanking noise rang out from my back tire. My chain had broke. My dead Ninja sat in the middle of the deserted street. It started raining no more than 30 seconds after this happened. An old and rusty blue, reminiscent of Leslie’s dad’s van, pulled up and asks if I need help. She gave me a ride a couple of miles down the road. I sat in the back with Mary’s two children who looked at me in all my bulky motorcycle gear like I was an alien. The mechanic said he couldn’t work on motorcycles, so Mary drove me back to my bike. I gave the chain a closer inspection. In my excitement from earlier I didn’t realize that the chain was in tact. It had only stretched out, so that when I learned into that left turn there was enough slack to fall off the rear sprocket. I limped for 20 KMs to the next town, keeping my bike as upright as I could. I found a motorcycle mechanic who came out with a couple wrenches in his hand and fixed my bike in 10 minutes right in the dirt parking lot. The guy did it for free as well. Such friendly Canadians. So a potentially drastic delay only set me back an hour.

Saskatchewan was amazing. The landscape was identical to Manitoba, but the skies were breathtaking. I caught some rain, but it was light and the spray from passing cars ended up being worse. The cloud formations were at least three levels high and porous enough to allow sun beams to litter the countryside. I rode and stared at the skies, entertained by each new blanket of clouds I passed under. I understand why they call it the “Land of the Living Skies.”

I passed into Alberta and the clouds immediately disappeared, as if the border hung in the skies. It was nothing but blue skies and I was riding directly into the sun. The roads dipped and swelled and occasionally curved. Live stock was scattered along side the road and it felt like what Texas mike feel like. I called it quits in Medicine Hat and found a motel with a vacancy after four tries. It was dirty and spiders were easily found. I slept in my sleeping bag on top of the bed. Even after three hours of rain and mechanical problems I managed to make it 650 miles. Short of my expectations, but I was happy with my progress. The Canadian Rockies were an hour away, so I got some much needed rest and looked forward to seeing a familiar face in Idaho.

It all started in early May after I took a week to explore the Appalachian mountains. The day after I arrived back home I felt a little lost and immediately starting thinking about my next trip to take. I loved riding through the mountains so the next best place was the Rocky Mountains for me. For the next three months I spent hours planning, preparing and researching for the trip. I used Google Maps and Wikipedia for the majority of my planning. Besides that the book, Motorcycle Journeys through the Rocky Mountains, was extremely helpful as I traveled through Colorado. Motorcycle Touring for Beginners gave me a long list of items to consider packing that I would have forgotten about had I not come across this site. Also, Motorcycle Camping Made Easy made my camping while motorcycling…less difficult. Despite my anal planning I did manage to forget two things. Chap stick and a flask of whiskey. The former was easily obtainable, but the latter was longed for a couple times after a hard day of riding.

This was my longest trip I have taken, both in mileage and time. I spent two weeks on the road and traveled 4826 miles. That’s about 70 hours in the saddle. Here is a daily account of my trip, and some of the interesting encounters and situations I came upon along the way.

07/23/07
Origin: Chicago, Illinois
Destination: Minneapolis, Minnesota
Mileage:450 miles

I left home around 9am. I took the same expressway that I took to work everyday and it felt very weird blowing by the Ogden exit ramp and continuing forward. That marked the beginning of my journey in my mind. I spent the majority of the day passing through Wisconsin. I kept thinking back to college and debating whether or not I should take a detour through Green Bay for old times sake. This was the closest I would be for a very long time, so why not? I thought about walking through the campus, perhaps running into an old professor. If I was that close I would have to stop by my old apartment where I lived with my ex-girlfriend for about 3 years. Perhaps catch dinner at what used to be our favorite Friday night restaurant? I began realizing what a dismal detour this would turn into so I continued on to Minneapolis.

The ride was boring, and just something to get out of the way. The only eventful thing that happened was when I got into Minneapolis. I accelerate forward from a stoplight for about 50 feet. I get this itchy sensation in the middle of my chest. It turned from itchy to pinching, to hot, to burning to excruciating. The son of a bitch in front of me ashed their cigarette and an ember flew into my jacket. Knowing that it was going to take me at least 10 seconds (which felt like an eternity) before I can get it out only enraged me. I brought the bike to a screeching halt on the side of the road, flung off my gloves and ripped off my jacket. The pain stopped growing, but it continued to sting. My roadside fit of anger was met with looks of confusion by passing cars. Never ash with a motorcyclist behind you.

I stayed with my sister who put me up for the night. It was nice hanging out with my sister and I felt like it was long overdue. I was only halfway to the border and anxious to get into Canada.

07/24/07
Origin: Minneapolis, Minnesota
Destination: Winnipeg, Manitoba
Mileage:550 miles

I woke up late and scrambled to get on the road. It was a very hot and humid day. A heat wave was blanketing Minnesota and North Dakota. As long as I kept moving I was comfortable. I only let myself stop for the necessities: Food, gas and smokes. An elderly couple from Grand Forks were watching their grand kids. My Illinois plates are the start of most my conversations while on the road. People wonders where I am going, or where I’ve been. I describe my journey, only in its infancy at the moment, and only until I vocalize it does the breadth of the trip truly set in.

North Dakota was horribly boring but luckily I only hit a small portion of it while traveling to Winnipeg. The main reason I traveled into Canada was to avoid North Dakota and Montana. It cost me 500 extra miles of riding, but it was well worth it. “US BORDER - 30 MILES” lifted my spirit. I’ll be in Winnipeg in two hours.

I arrived at the border. The man in the booth asked about my the nature of my travel into Canada and asked all the typical questions regarding firearms, tobacco and alcohol. He directed me to the immigration office since I had not entered Canada since I was 7. I got the 3rd degree from the woman behind the counter. She reiterated all the questions I had been asked before along with a myriad of others. How much cash am I bringing into Canada? How much money do I have access to via credit cards and bank accounts? Have I ever appeared before a judge in court? Have I ever been denied entry or been thrown out of Canada? This went on for about five minutes. She told me that she had to perform some checks and told me to take a seat. I felt like I wasn’t going to be allowed in. I already began mentally mapping out an alternate route through the US to the Rockies when it was interrupted by a call from the immigration officer. They finally let me through and I made it to Winnipeg.

Tomorrow was going to be a big day for me. I wanted to try and travel 800 miles. The most I’ve done in a day was 600 and I am usually exhausted at that point. It would be nice to spend more time in Canada, but setting a faster pace would allow me more time in the Rockies which is what this trip is all about.

I am going to split this entry up. Probably just talk about two days at a time. Stay tuned for more.

Well I finally made it to Phoenix after a two week trip across the country on my Ninja 650r. It was pretty ridiculous at times and amazing at others. Some days I had to take a very fast pace and would force myself to keep riding until I saw that wonderful low fuel light blip on. All in all I rode 4826 miles. That’s about 80 hours on the saddle over the past two weeks. My GPS logger was spazzing out on me so unfortunately I do not have real-time data on where exactly I went. Sorry folks, I know how much you love my real-time data. That’s why I gather it, for you. So while I still have the city names and road names fresh in my mind I will Google Map it up and log the course for anyone’s curiosity. Click the images to view the details:

(I exceeded the limit that Google put on the number of destinations so I split it up into two maps)

I plan I writing a huge blog or a series thereof to document my trip. In the mean time here is a photo log I created so far:

Cross Country Photo Log