Motorcycle Fluency

Since I've started writing for the Examiner I have been doing a lot of research on various motorcycle topics. I'm learning a lot and I like that, but every time I research another topic it reminds me again how much I don't know. I have read Proficient Motorcycling by David Hough, but every time I go through it I realize that not everything sinks in. I read about other people taking round the world treks and riding on sand for hours and days on end. Sand terrifies me. I watch videos of people doing amazing slow motion maneuvers on their bikes and have to face the fact that I don't even come close to that level of skill. Yes, I can ride mud, I've done multiple 750 mile days under challenging conditions, but there is so much MORE. I desperately want to reach a point where I feel more than competent, where I feel skillful on my bike, but I am so far from that level it frustrates me beyond imagination. It means I keep working, keep practicing, and maybe someday I'll be closer to motorcycle fluency than the semi-illiteracy I currently have.

Prudhoe Bay Ride - Day 4

We got up the following morning and went into the oil field worker's dining room for breakfast. We'd also eaten there for dinner the night before. It is a no frills place, but the food is heavenly! Bobby took the time to take a couple pictures of the dining room.



and the kitchen where they make all the good food happen along with part of the window dining room.



After breakfast we rode to "town"



where we got gas, then rode over to the NAPA store that marks the end of the Dalton Highway.





After buying a couple stickers at the NAPA, we went over to the Arctic Caribou where we took a tour of the oil fields. The windows in the bus were small and dirty so we didn't really get much in the way of photos. We saw a lot of birds, different species of geese, swans, arctic terns, etc. and more Eskimo cotton.



After winding through the oil fields we finally reached the Arctic Ocean and were allowed off the bus.



We'd have gone in all the way if we'd had the ability to change. that's my story and I'm sticking to it... We did get the certificates to prove we've at lest touched the Arctic Ocean.



When they were first developing the North Slope many people were afraid the development would harm the caribou herds. Instead, the caribou use the gravel roads and pads as a place to escape the worst of the mosquitoes. Caribou have the right of way on all the roads, and if that means oil transport vehicles have to wait for an hour while a large herd passes, then that is what they do. No one can honk their horns, or in any way try to move the caribou along. The caribou have obviously learned this and completely ignored us.





After the tour we got back on the bikes and turned South for home. It was a grayer day than the day before, and had rained over night. As we left Deadhorse it was in thick, freshly laid gravel. I was doing ok, then all of a sudden found myself in a berm, plowing through the gravel rather than riding on top. The bike went into a major tank slapper and I came VERY close to going down. I focused on the horizon though, and gave it enough gas to stay up right. Whew! That was too close for comfort.

Shortly before I decided to ride in the berm...



The wind was calmer today, and as a result the mosquitos were on patrol. The picture shows several swarming my helmet but is an understatement of what was there. We learned on our tour that the mosquitos are so bad, they'll take 1/3 of the caribou's body weight in blood every summer.



It felt like a different road today. The weather was more challenging, and every time the light changes, the view changes completely,



and the road was a little less friendly also.



I love riding in mud! I get a big grin every time I make it out without a crash!

The beauty of this area never lessened.







Eventually we got back to Atigun Pass. As I reached the top I looked back and saw one of the most beautiful scenes yet. The Pass was rainy and dark, while the valley behind me was bathed in sunlight. Unfortunately the road was very steep and I was on a blind corner where I didn't feel safe stopping.

After the Pass we went through an area with gorgeous rocks off to the side of the road.



Even while the weather on the road was dark, we could always see the promise of sunlight at the end. I think there is a life lesson in that, and maybe in this whole ride. The road isn't always easy, but the difficulties make the beauty so much more worthwhile.



We were spending the night back at Wiseman, but wanted to go back to Coldfoot for dinner. I don't know how these guys got here. All I know is they didn't have much of a smile on their faces when they pulled into the parking lot shortly after we sat down to eat dinner.



Just look at those tires! No wonder they weren't feeling like being conversational!



After dinner we went back to the B&B. We stayed in the smaller cabin this time. It was great being greeted by the owner's children. Leo liked my helmet. His sister looked on with typical sibling disgust and tolerance...



Once again, by the time we were showered and crawled in bed we fell asleep immediately. The down comforters are absolutely to die for!

to be continued...

Ozzie's BMW, CHIP bikes, and Alcohol

The next morning we got up and headed out toward Ozzie's BMW. The morning was warm, the sun was shining, and we were riding through some beautiful farmland. I fell into that totally relaxed state of feeling as if everything was right with the world. We entered a road construction area and traffic slowed way down, but was still moving along steadily. Then, just as we entered the most active area, where the road was down to one lane in either direction and bordered by concrete barriers, some idiot decided to pass the dump truck behind me. I don't know whether he didn't see me and thought he could squeeze in between the dump truck and my husband's bike, or whether he was just an idiot. In any case, he came screaming around the dump truck, there was oncoming traffic, and he had no place to go other than my lane. Apparently he decided, it's just a motorcycle, who cares if I run them down, because there he came. I hit the dirt on the side of the road, the dump truck driver slammed on his brakes, and the idiot missed me by about a foot. I don't know how I kept the bike upright. I guess all I can say is that my MSF class paid for itself there!

After my close call the adrenaline kept me on edge all the way to the bike shop. Normally I hate to stop riding, but in all honesty this time it was a relief to get off the bike and know I would have some time to recover. The guys at Ozzie's had told us the night before that they would try to work us in, and they were fantastic. It took all day to get the bike done, but what cool guys. It turned out that the shop in Anchorage had installed the throttle cable improperly so it had stretched and I needed a new one. One of the high points of my day was looking at the California Highway Patrol bikes that were in the shop for service. One of the mechanics was even nice enough to pull one out for me so I could get my picture taken with it.

When we realized how late it would be before we could hit the road again we decided to get a motel and start fresh the following morning. We took a taxi to the Sierra Nevada Brewing Company bar and restaurant. The food was fantastic, and my husband had great things to say about the beer. I braved the sneers of those around me and drank wine instead. I used to like beer, but as I've gotten older I just don't enjoy the taste. But that's ok, the other people in the bar made up for it, andby drinking pinot I left more beer for them! Coming up next - Chico to Tahoe

Redwoods and Mountain Passes

The next morning when we woke up we realized that our choice of tent sites hadn't been the greatest. It didn't show when the ground was dry, but after a night of downpour, our tent was sitting in a puddle about two inches deep! The good news was the indisputable confirmation that the Big Agnes tent does indeed have a waterproof floor. Not one drop of water got in. We packed up in the rain and headed out to find a road that the former guide had told us would take us through the heart of the redwood forest on a road rarely travelled. It started out as a gravel road, but not long after we got off the pavement the gravel turned to thick gooey mud and big water filled potholes. AWESOME! We had rain gear, so even though our outsides were wet, we stayed warm and dry even as we splashed our way across the worst (best) road I have ever ridden.

When we hit the main road again we turned South and soon put the rain behind us. At Arcada we turned East and rode to Redding for the night. The road from Arcada to Redding crossed the mountains and we got into the first serious cold of the trip. It was just above freezing, and very windy. But the road had some amazing twisties and we had a lot of fun. The only serious downside was that my problem with the bike engine reving up every time I turned the handle bars had gotten much worse. We agreed as we sat in a restaurant in Redding to take my bike to Ozzie's BMW in Chico California the next day.

Oregon Coast and the Redwoods

Since getting my bike from the expediter I had been noticing that the engine wanted to rev any time I turned the handle bars even a little bit to either side. It made riding through the twisties along the Oregon coast a bit less fun and a bit more of a job than it should have been, but we still had a great time. Shortly after we left Florence we came to the Oregon Dunes. It was a lot of fun riding through the park and seeing the dunes for the first time since I was in junior high.

We crossed into California and headed toward Jedediah State Park. This park was recommended to us by a guy we met at dinner in Florence who used to guide in the area. What a fabulous find. We camped with the redwoods and sequoias around us and the Smith river right behind our campsite. We got there early enough that we walked around and explored for a while before eating dinner and crawling into the tent for an early night. It had started raining, so we didn't mind getting in our sleeping bags and talking over all the day's events.

Riding the Olympic Peninsula

We left Seattle and decided to take the ferry across Puget Sound to Bainbridge Island. The ferry ride was cold, but fun. Seeing the Seattle skyline fading away from the ferry really made the reality of the trip feel more immediate. We wandered around above decks a little bit, but spent the majority of the ride with the bikes. We arrived shortly thereafter on Bainbridge and began riding North on the Olympic Peninsula.

The day was partly cloudy, so bright sunshine was interspersed with rain, fog, and sleet. It was mostly nice though, and we rode through some beautiful forests and twisties up in the the Coastal Range. Eventually we decided it was time to find a place to camp after about 280 miles. The first place we tried didn't feel very welcoming so we went to a campground across the road and found a site where we could hear the ocean. There were a couple of very buff young guys there who came over and talked with us as we set up our campsite. They were trying to do the Washington trifecta, downhill skiing, surfing, and mountain biking all in one day. They were a lot of fun to talk to. Nice kids.

While I set up the tent, my husband put his bike on firewood duty and went and bought us a couple bundles of firewood. We put tarps over our bikes, and put the helmets under the tarp. We thought we were being overly cautious. It won't rain, just look at all the stars... We had zipped our sleeping bags together, but soon realized that the bags zipped together created an open tunnel that allowed the cold air to get in all the way to our feet. It didn't take too long for us to zip apart and zip back up individually. The next morning we woke to rain and 38 degrees. Fortunately it soon cleared off and started warming up. By the time we had broken camp and gotten packed it was a wonderful sunny spring morning. We rode along the Washington and Oregon Coast down to Florence about 300 miles for the day. Next up: Oregon Coast and the Redwoods

Spring Tour 2007 - part I

My husband's bike ready to be loaded.

Picking my bike up from the expediter.

Lots of gear to load!

Loaded and ready to hit the road.


Last Spring my husband and I had a lot of time off work at the same time, and decided to celebrate by taking a tour of the lower 48 states. Our original plan was to fly the bikes to Seattle then ride across the country to the East coast, visit New York and Quebec, then ride home across Canada. Life got in the way and we had to cut our plans short, but we still had an amazing tour. I'm going to break it up here in segments.

The planning was a lot of fun. My husband was out of state, so I spent a lot of time on the computer and looking at road maps planning a route that we would use as a rough guide on the trip. The one thing we really wanted was to stay on back roads as much as reasonably possible, knowing that we'd have to blow through some areas on interstate. We packed our gear into boxes and sent it all down to a friend's house in Seattle, so I wouldn't have to deal with getting boxes to the airport, and my husband was going straight to Washington after his trip without stopping off at home.

We got a lot of new camping gear to lighten our load and make the trip more pleasant than roughing it. We got a Big Agnes tent, Big Agnes sleeping bags with the integrated air mattress, a jet boil with french press, a few new tools for our maintenance kit, and miscellaneous other little things. We also got the ultimate motorcycle travel necessity. Kermit Chairs! We took our bikes into the local BMW shop for the 6000 mile service and a complete once over. We later found out that some things were ignored during this service, and other things were done wrong, but that is another story. Our expediter picked the bikes up from the motorcycle shop and put them on the plane for Seattle. My husband was already there, and picked up his bike right away. On arrival at the warehouse he found out that my brand new never even out of the box windshield that we had specifically asked NOT be put on the bike, had been put on my bike when it arrived. They had over tightened a bolt and I now had a cracked brand new windshield. We drilled the ends of the crack and decided to ride until it got worse and get a new one then. (The expediter paid for the windshield no questions asked).

When I got to Seattle I picked up my bike and rode to our friend's house where we visited, ate good food, drank good wine, and learned how to pack all our new gear. Olympic Peninsula up next...

I Am a Biker Chick

I am a biker chick. Do you have a picture in your mind of who I am, what I look like? I bet you’re wrong. I am a retired trial attorney, mom to three girls, and wife to an awesome guy. I don’t have any tattoos. I prefer Pinot Noir to beer.

Motorcycle riding isn’t just about Harley Davidson and Honda Goldwing anymore. The new breed of rider prefers dual sport motorcycles designed to perform equally well on the highway or on a bumpy off-road trail in the middle of nowhere. We ride ATGATT, all the gear, all the time. My bike of choice is a BMW F650 GS. Riders have taken this bike literally around the world, from Deadhorse, Alaska to Ushuaia, Argentina. From Shanghai, China to Cape Town, South Africa.

My lifestyle at home is typical suburban American. I drive my kids to and from school in a VW Jetta, sit at the computer most of the day, go running or work out at the gym, then hang out watching television with the family in the evening. Life on the road is where things change. Everything I need for days and even weeks on end has to fit on the back of my bike. At home my closet looks like most women’s. I like clothes, and I like shoes. On the road I only have my riding boots, and room for one pair of shoes. In summer I take sandals, in shoulder seasons I take a pair of Dansco clogs. Since packing room is limited, my non-riding wardrobe is paired down to two pair of pants, and three t-shirts.

A typical day on the road from a recent six week tour of the Western United States might include waking up in a primitive campground with a river behind our campsite, and redwood trees and giant sequoias all around us. Making coffee with our Jet Boil French press attachment then packing up the tent in the rain. Heading out and finding a dirt or gravel road to explore, seeing the less traveled side of the Redwood Forest, or Death Valley, or the Grand Canyon.

We try to find a local out of the way spot for lunch, like the unnamed cowboy bar we stopped at in New Mexico where chickens roamed around the dirt parking lot and even inside the little general store, the place where everyone in the place stopped talking and looked at us like we were from Mars when we walked in wearing riding gear and carrying motorcycle helmets, or Fat Mama’s in Natchez, Mississippi where they advertise “knock you naked margaritas.”

Our afternoons we spend either continuing the morning’s explorations or riding secondary roads to the next area we want to see. Sometimes we ride miles where the air feels soft and warm and smells of pine needles or freshly cut grass. Other times the wind blows us around the road, rain bouncing off our helmets, or snow building up on our windshields making riding slick and challenging. But no matter the weather, riding a motorcycle makes you feel alive. In a car your mind can drift away, on a bike letting your mind drift can kill you. Every sense is focused on your surroundings, experiencing the feel of the road, the tingle of adrenaline always keeping you in the moment.

In the evenings we decide if we want to camp rustic, or in a KOA Kampground, or maybe treat ourselves to the unimaginable feeling of luxury a hot shower and clean sheets bring after a long day in the saddle. Do we feel like cooking over a campfire and watching the stars come out like we did in Death Valley, or going to a world-class restaurant like we did in New Orleans?

I’m a biker chick. I love riding the twisties, feeling the power of my bike as I lean into the curves. I love the thrill of riding a muddy road full of potholes. I live for the joy of experiencing nature, rather than just riding through in an air-conditioned car with the radio on. Yeah, I’m a biker chick, and I’m loving every minute of it.