Sacramento to Green Bay 07

My 2007 adventure. I've been hoping to make it to Green Bay before I die, having been a major Packer fan all of my life. I've never lived there, but as a youngster, the Packers-and particularly Bart Starr- were my heroes. So there you go.

Notes on my report. I have, perhaps childishly, named my FJR…Ralphie. I’ll refer to this motorbike often with that name.

Also, nearly every photo I’ve taken and will include with this report will have my bike in it. Some have told me it ruins the photos, but that’s what I do. I had a really great time and I hope this report will convey that. Thanks.

Day 1 8/23/07

Woke up shortly after midnight. Then again at 2. Cannot sleep. Screw it .Got up. Loaded bags etc. onto bike. On the road in the dark by 3:15. Finally I’m rolling out on my adventure!! I can hardly believe it! Calm down.

Through stoplights up to I-80 East and up to cruising speed. As I climb into the mountains, it gets quickly cooler. Much cooler. It’s August in N. CA but the mountains chill right down at night. I’m layered and snug. New Aerostich insulated elkskin gauntlets are the ticket. Considered grip warmers, but maybe next trip.

It’s pitch black and I’m almost alone on the road. This Yamaha is very quiet, I’m wearing earplugs and a baklava inside my helmet, and as I glide over the asphalt it’s almost silent. Am I dreaming?

Quickly I’m zooming through Reno and out into the desert. Traffic is of course still very light. The sky to the east is beginning to glow with the morning light, and I can begin to see the Nevada desert stretched out in front of me. Glorious.

I exit at Fernley, and head toward Fallon and the express ride out Hwy. 50 – the loneliest road thing.

First gas stop in Fallon. Geez, they're GIVING the stuff away lately!



It’s one panorama after another as I consume long ribbons of asphalt, reach the horizon, another mountain pass, and then down onto another stretch to another horizon. Though many would not consider it scenic, it is starkly beautiful and serene. Oh, and I’m running at just about 5800 rpm in 5th gear most of the time. I'm normally a very cautious and controlled rider, but out here, this seems reasonable and not unsafe. It’s effortless, and the sagebrush goes blurry. Cool. I back off slightly when I see something approaching, but as soon as I can determine it’s not a LEO, I throttle back up, and settle in.

I hope I don't run out of gas.



See, it's official.



The lonliest opera house?

Note the flagpole farkle.

Some local color.

Not long past midday, I’m passing through Ely and on toward Baker. Now the road HAS actually become tedious. So, chest down on the tank bag, Ralphie purring and happy, and the last stretch melts away.

I’m in Utah now and really feeling like I’m on vacation. Suddenly – greenery, agriculture, and Delta, Utah. 50 veers south and then back to the east and I turn onto 100, across I-15, and roll into tiny Kanosh, Utah, my first overnight stop.

Jim and Patti Weaver have settled in this beautiful little town. They are the aunt and uncle of one of my exes. Jim is a retired Air Force Colonel, and they’re really great folks.

My host and hostess. Thank you guys.

They rented Harleys this last summer and took one of those rides around southern Utah. Jim is smitten, and is considering a Roadstar. I of course lobbied him to consider a sport tourer instead of a cruiser. Patty loved it too and actually is encouraging Jim to make the purchase. What a woman!

We spend a great evening together, go out for a meal at Cruff’s in Filmore (great all-American food washed down with a sasparilla) and after a couple of beers sitting out front on a peaceful late summer evening, waving at every neighbor that drove by, I turn in at 10 after setting the alarm for 4. Don’t wanna burn daylight!

Day 1 mileage – 659.

More! More! Keep the story going!

Old Michael said:

Also, nearly every photo I’ve taken and will include with this report will have my bike in it. Some have told me it ruins the photos, but that’s what I do.

Click to expand...

Doesn't ruin the photo. :nono: Makes the photo. In fact, get all that distracting scenery out of the damn frame! I look at your pictures, and I say, "Nice bike."

Old Michael said:

I had a really great time and I hope this report will convey that. Thanks.

Click to expand...

Mission accomplished! Thanks for posting. Jb

Some of those pics are really well composed.

I don't just say that because of my own fondness for that opera house. From my own travels (sorry about the extreme size [ man, if I had a nickel])

:

Okay, yeah, fine, I *DO* know how many foot taps and how many handwaves are required. So sue me, or bounce me out of Congress.

Based on what you shot, you may like this.

Day 2

Up and anxious to get back on the road. Jim and Patti kindly got up to send me

off by 4:30. They of course offered breakfast, but I wouldn’t make them do

that at this hour. Jim had to work later in the morning. Did I mention that

they’re good folks.

Okay, I’m quite a few miles off the interstate, it’s of course dark, late summer,

and this very rural area is crawling with wildlife.

I’m going about 30, with the lights on bright (high beams on this guy are fantastic.

I can’t see adding aftermarket torches.) So I’ve got the road lit up and every

hundred yards or so there’s something hurrying to get out of the light. It’s like

a freaking video game. Herds of rabbits, bats, rodents I couldn’t identify

(furry, waddling quickly), flocks of insects of course, and an owl who didn’t want

to leave his kill until I was right up on him – then holy shit! My biggest concern

was of course avoiding a deer strike and ending my trip – or worse. Soon though,

I was on the interstate heading south.

I had made a reservation at a Kodachrome Basin State Campground, near Cannonville,

just off Hwy. 12 just east of Bryce, so it wouldn’t be a long day in the saddle.

At Beaver it’s a quick stop for a breakfast sandwich, my first coffee, and my second.

It’s a cool morning but as the sun rises it awful nice to be on the road. Heading south,

the mountains rise on the right and the scenery is getting more interesting.







At Cedar city, I stop again, this time at a major truck plaza, and after another cup,

I can’t help getting some shots of the contrast between the big rigs and the Ralphinator.

Is that a GIVI behind that Kenworth?



Very soon, I’m exiting onto 17 and quickly I’m on 9 east toward 89. This of course

takes you through Zion, a place I’ve never visited, so of course I was blown away.

I found myself stopping around every turn and taking more photos. It was still fairly

early in the day, the air was cool, the sky was crystal clear, the traffic was light and

I was in one of the most beautiful places in the country. I guess things are going okay.









Even though I was loving Zion, I couldn’t make myself loiter, and I was soon

exiting the park. Like a lot of the places I’ll be visiting, it would make great

destinations, and I hope to come back and spend time hiking and exploring.

I'll be back.



But that’s for another trip. Now I’m rolling east out of the park, and holy shit,

the scenery changes suddenly and dramatically. The red rocks are no more

and it’s more like high desert – sweeping pavement with sagebrush and ranches.

This is just out the back of Zion!



At Mt Carmel Junction I top off the blue monster, and head north on 89. I really

love this stretch of road. Not twisty or challenging, but enough sweepers and

turns to keep you interested, and again, the scenery is fantastic.

I’m not much of a racer, but a winding road through beautiful country on good

asphalt finds me powering through turns and really enjoying the ridiculous power

and torque Yamaha has packaged here.

On the straighter parts through here, the countryside is distracting enough that

you’re almost grateful that you can relax and look around. The Sevier River twists

through this area. It reminds me of an eastern Sierra fly fisherman’s dream.

Almost too soon, I’m turning onto the famous Hwy. 12 and anticipating the Grand

Staircase I’ve read about.



A few miles in I find myself passing through a little area

called Red Canyon, on the northern part of Bryce Canyon National Park. Holy cow!

The colors just scream at you. I mean, I know Utah has red rocks, but these bastards

are RED! Sometimes nature is just amazing, isn’t it?





Now on down through tropic and out to my first night of camping at Kodachrome.

As I head out the dead end road to the campground, I’m crossing my fingers and

hoping it won’t be some hellhole. It turns out to be perfect. If you ever get the chance….

It’s an immaculately maintained little gem, in a sort of amphitheater of amazing rock

formations and “hoodoos”, which are these rock chimneys that have to be seen to be

believed. Oh, and showers and flush cans, and a store, and a great bunch of folks

tending to it.

Kodachrome!







They even have some stable and offer horseback trips into the surrounding area. I

to have a look.

Hey look! A Harley factory! .......just kidding. I'm kidding. I love Harleys.



I don’t camp very often, but this place makes me think I should do it more. Quickly,

I set up camp, shoot back to Cannonville to grab a bite, and return with some evening

beer and a newspaper. I didn’t bring any cooking gear for the trip, but instead opted

for the grab dinner nearby, and just use the campsite for sleeping option. It should work

I reckon.

After a couple of brews, I head out on foot and tackle a couple of the well-marked hiking

trails that take you up into the surrounding hills. The place is almost deserted and I roam

at will, taking photos and singing to myself.



I’m visited in camp by some volunteer park folks who tell me they’ll be setting up

telescopes nearby this evening and viewing the evening sky. They invite me over

and promise I’ll love it. Cool. It’s a deal.

Shortly after sunset, I’m fighting sleep and end up turning in without partaking. I wake

up later to use the head, and pause to take some pics of the full moon lighting up the place.

I’m surprised they came out. This solo thing is going well.





Day 2 mileage – 293 – Pretty lame I guess. I'll make up for it later....And I'm really

sorry about that horsey shot. I couldn't help it. I know it will haunt me.

I always like taking 50 across. I look forward to more! Oh...and here it is. Great route choices!

Day 3

Slept in-rolling at 7:30 or so. Back on 12 East – coffee and a couple of Danishes

@ Escalante, and then on to Boulder. Beautiful country. Rolling greenery, aspens,

pine forest, winding, heavenly run through the Dixie National Forest – over a

9000ft. + summit.







I stopped on the side of the road, again, on a long open

straight,to snap some photos, and out of the silence I hear the unmistakable

sound of an inline-4, large displacement, Japanese motorcycle approaching.

Seconds later, a beautiful blue FJR roars by me, and disappears down and

around a turn into the aspens.

Views approaching Capital Reef.









A rider with passenger. Quickly back on Ralphie

and we’ll chase ‘em down. All I’ve seen for the whole trip – Harleys, and ….more

Harleys. Down the road, just before we get to Capitol Reef, we both pull in for a

break and chat for a bit. They’re from Moab, and heading home now. He just

bought his FJR last week, and is very impressed. He explains that he’s riding

cautiously because he’s on a plugged tire. Junction of Hwy. 24. They head

north and I go south.



Capitol National Park is really something. The bluffs and formations are colossal!

They tower above the roadway.

Called "Wayne Wonderland" in the 1920s by local boosters Ephraim P. Pectol

and Joseph S. Hickman, Capitol Reef National Park comprises 378 square miles

of colorful canyons, ridges, buttes, and monoliths. Yeah, I copied and pasted

the last sentence.





Fruita



Onto 95 at Hanksville all the way to Blanding. Across a little bit of Lake Powell and

geology is incredible. It varies between barren desert and breath-taking formations.

For the most part, it's lonely deserted road – went very fast through this. Gosh, I gotta

slow down and check things out. A recurring theme.







191 to Monticello, then a right turn and goodbye Utah. It’s been great. At the border,

when I stopped to get the “Welcome to” photo, a couple in a pickup pulled in behind me.

They were doing the same thing. Mr. Lopez, and his wife, just radiated warmth and friendliness.

Do you know what I mean? He offered to take my picture and we both laughed about

the “colorful” Colorado sign next to a dirt field. They were from Beaumont, Texas

(Don Meredith’s hometown I think?) and were on vacation heading to Arches National Park.

Then we turned around and took more pictures at the “welcome to Utah” sign. I can’t

really say why, but this was one of those good moments I’ll remember.

Ya hadda be there.





Mr. and Mrs. Lopez



Then 491 to Cortez, passing everything in sight. I fell in behind a couple of cowboy

s racing pickups. I stayed back but made good time.

This “making good time” thing is like a stinking compulsion. I’ve got to get out of this

mode. I promised myself before leaving on this journey, that I’d take my time and

see the little things, and here I find myself charging through things. There must be a cure.

While I’m contemplating this thought, and casually passing another motorist, a red

Corvette, for chrissakes, comes up behind me and is on my ass. How classic is this?

I think it’s a 2004, but I don’t know my Corvettes like I used to. I finish my pass and

pull back into the right hand lane. The Corvette, piloted by a weenie in shades, pulls

alongside and slows for a bit, glaring at me. Then he nails it and starts to pull away.

What would YOU do? Like an idiot, I shift down to 3rd (we’re doing 80) and walk around

him shifting into 4th, then 5th and then I think, “pull your head out of your ass.” I shut

it down and get back to the right and drop to the speed limit. He flies by and disappears

around the next sweeper. This crap won’t happen again. This is the kind of thing that I

view as idiocy in another. But it’s like a friggin’ battle between the male ego and common

sense. I gotta buy an old R75/5 toaster, and concentrate on WHERE I’m going, rather

than how fast I get there. At my age, I should be WAY past this. Goddamned FJR.

Can I get some feedback on this?

Oooookay. Back to the trip.

Then 160 to Durango.







Finally, I cruise into Durango and look to call it a day. Oddly tired.

Lots, and I mean lots, of Harleys coming into town. I pull into a

Walgreens? or some such place to dump my camera photos onto a CD, and I’m told by

the lovely lady at the counter that there’s a “Harley-fest” happening in Ignacio this week,

just a few miles southeast of here. I just need a room for the night and I’ll head out of

here quickly.

It was approaching 7 pm, the wind had really kicked up, and rain clouds were rolling in.

I actually bartered with the gal at the desk of the first motel I pulled in to. She quoted

me a ridiculous price for a room, I expressed my shock and asked how far it was to

the next town. She said, “How much were you planning on spending for a room?”

I said, “This is Durango, Colorado and not New York City, right?” We arrived at a

price that neither of us thought was reasonable, and I took the room. I don’t really

like camping - in the rain.

I dumped my stuff into the room, covered and locked down my bike and strolled

down the street to grab a sandwich, some beers and head back to the room. The

sandwich was no problem. But when I went to the “convenience” store across the

street to get beer and asked why they didn’t have any, they laughed and told me

if I wanted beer, I’d have to run to the border and into New Mexico. It was Sunday!

I could buy 3.2 beer in a couple of places in town maybe, but otherwise I was out

of luck.

Hey, let’s legislate morality! You could of course buy other stuff that will kill you

all over town – but not beer. They sold 62 brands of cigarettes-even on Sundays.

Diet Pepsi will do for tonight. The sandwich was delicious. I’m still having the time

of my life. Beer and motels are trivial. I’m on the road and riding a motorcycle

every day through places I’ve never been. It can’t get much better than this.

Write in my log, review my photos, and lights out. I peek out and see it raining. Good night.

Day 3 mileage 424. Trip total -1376.

Keep up the good work bro. The pics are awesome. PM. <><

Great report man. My father held season tickets with 6 other guys through the late 50's to the mid 70's when we moved to Cali. One of the guys dropped out in the mid 60's and I was lucky enough to get to attend one pre-season game, every other year.

Now whenever I am in town during the season, I bite the bullet and pay whatever it takes to see a game, (3 times in the last 10 years).

Last game was September 2005, as I thought '05 was Brett's last year....

By the looks of your schedule, and if you are in real time, not sure if you will catch a game, unless you stay until the 23rd. Just a few hours until kickoff against Philly...50th anniversary of Lambeau! Lucky me the games are broadcast live here....2AM Monday morning.....

I will post a few of my game pics once you complete your journey......although how many shots of Brett dropping back to pass can you look at (at least that's what my wife said).

Don't forget to drop in to the Stadium View Bar (1963 Holmgren Way) and have a cold one.

Your story is great and the pictures are awesome....I lived near Salt Lake for a couple of years, and it brings back memories....ride safe bro....and thanks...

I'm really enjoying your reports and photos. Keep up the good work!

I can relate to the issue of stopping to smell the flowers, vs. the irrestible pull to get back on the bike. I recenlty completed the Iron Butt Association 50 national parks/25 state tour, and I continually found myself at a great national park having to decide between seeing more of the park, or hitting the road again on a great motorcycle. Often, I was back on the bike before I knew it, making myself a (lame) promise to come back later and spend more time there. I was in no hurry, but there I was again, cruising at FJR nominal speeds.

And then there's the issue of not wanting anyone in front of me. It has become a reflex....I'm behind a vehicle.... twist the throttle just a bit... maybe a downshift, and even without thinking about it, I'm past that pesky vehicle, and the road is beautifully open again in front of me.

I'll come back and visit those parks again. I promise.

dragonchef said:

Great report man. My father held season tickets with 6 other guys through the late 50's to the mid 70's when we moved to Cali. One of the guys dropped out in the mid 60's and I was lucky enough to get to attend one pre-season game, every other year.
Now whenever I am in town during the season, I bite the bullet and pay whatever it takes to see a game, (3 times in the last 10 years).

Last game was September 2005, as I thought '05 was Brett's last year....

By the looks of your schedule, and if you are in real time, not sure if you will catch a game, unless you stay until the 23rd. Just a few hours until kickoff against Philly...50th anniversary of Lambeau! Lucky me the games are broadcast live here....2AM Monday morning.....

I will post a few of my game pics once you complete your journey......although how many shots of Brett dropping back to pass can you look at (at least that's what my wife said).

Don't forget to drop in to the Stadium View Bar (1963 Holmgren Way) and have a cold one.

Your story is great and the pictures are awesome....I lived near Salt Lake for a couple of years, and it brings back memories....ride safe bro....and thanks...

Click to expand...

No, it's not in real time. I left CA on the Aug.24 and returned on the 4th of this month. Later in my trip report, I spend a day in Green Bay. The team was out of town, and played Tennessee in a preseason game the day I was at Lambeau. I've seen them play a couple of times. First with Majkowski years ago, and then with Favre a couple of years ago - both times when they came out here and played the 49ers. (They won both times.)

I didn't get to the Stadium View, but I had a great time there. I'll elaborate on, I think, day 7. This trip report stuff is hard work. ha

Thanks for the kind words. Peace.

If you want to cure your "My FJR is faster than you" problem, go hang around some people with 1k cc super bikes and Hayabusas. You'll quit wanting to race so much

Honestly, having a fast bike and the fun (aka stupidty) that goes with it is fine if used judiciously IMO. Nothing wrong with blasting down 491 (previously known as 666)...it's long and straight with not too much traffic

I'm liking your reports a lot Michael, I look forward to riding with you!

Day 5

Durango to Cheyenne - more rain, fewer photos

Day 4

Slipped out of Durango at 6:15 – north on 550 and climbing the San Juan Skyway.

It had rained overnight, but the road was now mostly dry.

Just friggin’ beautiful. Jaw-dropping scenery. The sun was just coming up on my

right, and because of the clouds and incoming weather, the sunrise was painted

red, orange, and a few shades of blue. Incredible mountains all around. Lush

forests, stunningly green meadows, herds of elk, livestock, and even a rainbow.

Oh, and no traffic, perfect asphalt, cool fresh air, and the good smell of approaching

rain. Yeah, I might be enjoying this ride. I love mountain passes, and through

here you’re surrounded by 10,000 ft. peaks.

I’m loving Colorado so far and cursing myself for not visiting sooner.

Between Durango and Silverton. I tried to capture the colors in the sky.





Over the first pass of the morning. These Rockies are tall!



This area would be great to explore on horseback.



The road approaching Silverton, I think.



Silverton, I believe. Still early in the morning.



I passed by Silverton, stopping only to snap a photo down main street. I stopped

even more briefly in Ouray for a photo. Full of little shops and galleries and nothing

much that made me want to get off the bike. The best things about Silverton and

Ouray are the roads leading into and out of them. It's a bit hairy in spots, with no gaurd rails,

switchbacks, gravel and rocks in a lot of the turns, and a disturbing number of oncoming

vehicles with no regard for the centerline- but the views take your breath away. Or maybe it's

the altitude. I'm loving the whole experience though.

I'm paying attention here.



Ouray. From above and below.





On past Ridgeway, and this road

loses its “scenic” label, straightening out toward Montrose. Then east on 50 and

big vistas, huge open pastures, with the mountain peaks now much farther away

out across the valley.

Somewhere between Montrose and Gunnison...I think.



Open highway through Gunnison and on to 285 North.

20 or so miles up 285, and I veered to the right onto 24 and toward Fairplay.

Before I got there, the weather finally caught me. It rained steadily on me as

I went in circles trying to find 9 North to Breckenridge. ( Finally, a real drawback

in relying on paper maps, and not having a Garmin. In the steady rain, I have

to pull over, open my visor, take off my gloves, dig out my reading glasses, pull

the map out of the tank bag window, and ….. It doesn’t happen that often though.

I’m holdin’ out. I'm waiting till they're down to $100!)

The ride to Breckenridge was a bit of a challenge. Rain and motorhomes.

Breckenridge struck me as being another of those touristy, over-priced little ski

towns, full of mountain bikers and kayakers in the summer, clogged with very

expensive cars, driving at very low speeds - and a couple of close calls with left-turners

testing my reflexes. Glad to be through and zooming toward Frisco and I-70.

The rain was on and off now, and the road was still wet.

I-70 toward Denver, even

quite far from the city, is full of inattentive motorists in a serious hurry. Maybe because

I’d spent a lot of time the last few days on desolate, lightly traveled roads, I found that

I was now anxious and concerned for my safety.

Well, none too soon, I was able to get off the interstate and head north again, this time

on 119. The rain continued, harder now. I must mention here that my gear was keeping

me dry and comfy. No complaints. And the Michelin Pilot Roads inspire confidence.

119 goes up and gets quite twisty, but I took my time and with the rain and lower speeds,

it turned out to be a good time for contemplation.

The rain trailed off and finally stopped as I came into Boulder. Yeah, I know it’s a college

town, and yes, it was about 4 pm on a weekday, but damn! Traffic was ridiculous!

The humidity was incredible, and I endured stop and go traffic all the way to and through

Longmont. It was my fault. Poor planning and route choice on my part. Experience is

the best teacher. I was learning.

Finally, on I-25 North, it was back up to speed and an express run out of Colorado and

into Cheyenne for the night. Up around Ft. Collins, the sky opened up again and it poured

until just before I entered Wyoming. I ran with another FJR for a few miles in the rain.

He came alongside before exiting and we exchanged waves. Not too many motorcycles

out in the weather.

Reading back over this, it seems as if my day was full of paranoia and sniveling. Actually, it was

a fantastic day. Colorado is beautiful and once again, it's a place I'm gonna try get back to

and spend more time. ...But really, the Packers WERE the better team in that Super Bowl that Denver

won back in.....

State #4?



Into the Super 8 in Cheyenne. They had only one room left. What the h….

Not too many photos today. I was thinking the rain wasn’t good for the camera.

Tired but content. Tomorrow, across the plains, and lots of corn. Closer to wonderful Wisconsin.

Good night.

Day 4 mileage - 550

Day 5

From Cheyenne, across Nebraska, into Iowa.

I got up at 4. Insomnia. Got out maps to look up some back roads, but then

decided to just power across Nebraska on the Interstate, and beeline for Green Bay.

What do you call a curved road in Nebraska? An on-ramp. I just wrote that.

Thankyouverymuch. I’ll be playing the Naughahyde Room all week.

Oooooooo-kay.

So that’s my newest plan. Hustle to Green Bay, and be finished my visit before

the Labor Day weekend. Then I’ll just take my time heading back to California.

Before I checked out of the motel in Cheyenne, the desk clerk and I went out together

and wathched the lunar eclipse through a clearing in the clouds. It was fascinating.

She was a nice lady. She stood outside with me as I was getting on my bike. She told

me to be careful on my trip, and to come back if I got a chance. I thanked her. Hmmm.

Minutes later, I’m gliding east on I-80, across the state line, and into the sunrise.

A bit later, I stop for this photo.



I can’t really say a lot about Nebraska. Agricultural heartland. Wide open. Corn.

Not too many hills or prominent features in the geography. Uh. Nice highway.

It follows the South Platte River for miles, but you really can’t see it, because the

road never rises above it.

Well, a couple of hundred miles in, I came close to slipping into a coma. It’s not

good to fall asleep on a motorcycle. There’s not enough recovery area on the other

side of the rumble strips. So I was forced to pull over and take a bit of a nap on a

picnic table at one of the many rest stops.



Very refreshing. Well, in no time (not really)....after what seemed like days, now

I was passing through Lincoln (Go Huskers!) and soon found myself approaching Omaha

and then Iowa.

In traffic flying through Omaha, I felt something hit my shoulder, and then my lower

leg – hard. It hurt. Quickly I realized it was a dump truck just ahead of me, and he

was raining gravel down every time he hit a bump. I’m sure he had to have put

bulletholes in a few windshields along the way. I shot up past him and gestured to him

that he should pull over and secure his load – or something. At my next stop I made

sure to examine Ralphie for damage. None that I could see through the bug spatter.

30 minutes into Iowa, I was overcome again by sleepiness, and decided to just call it

a day and either camp or get a room. At the next rest stop and welcome center, I

inquired about nearby camping facilities. The lovely gal with the brochures said there

wasn’t really much nearby, and that I’d probably be better off in a motel this evening,

as there was a pretty severe storm approaching quickly. Copy that. A motel it would

be. I never need much of an excuse to get me out of pitching a tent and sleeping on the ground.

The next exit and the next motel and I’m unpacking my gear for the night.

On the motel grounds. Look. A Harley. Again, I kid. Kidding.



Walnut, Iowa! When I turned on the television in the room, regular broadcasting was

being interrupted with weather warnings, tornado warnings, and that annoying signal

that creates panic.

I went back to the desk, got permission to pull my bike up against the building at the

entrance, and proceeded to wrap and tie down my Yamaha. Then I wandered around

outside taking photos, and waiting for the storm. In the Midwest, you can see weather

approaching, and that makes it all the more dramatic. The storm rolled in, but other

than high winds, rain, and a light show, the night passed without incident.





Tomorrow – Green Bay by nightfall dammit!

Day 5 mileage- 590.

Wow what a great report and pics.

Ride reports like this influnced my decisionn to buy the FJR..

Look forward to your next update

Day 6

Do I smell cheese? I’ll be in Packerland by nightfall, unless it snows.

Alrighty! I spring from the comfort of my Iowa motel room bed, and hurriedly pack

for the most anticipated day of the ride so far! I try to come to grips with the fact that

this evening I’ll be sleeping in Green Bay! Well, I’ll be gotohell!! My, my.

Yeah, I know it sounds “juvenile”, as my ex might have described it, but I reckon you’d

need to be a die-hard Packer fan to really relate. Or maybe not.

Of course in the back of my mind, I’m really hoping it won’t turn out to be a big

disappointment, now that I’ve built up all this anticipation.

I scurry outside to uncover Ralphie, and make sure the weather inflicted no damage.

I pull my loyal FJR out under the lights, check the oil, the tire pressures, and reset

the trip odometer for the day. After remounting the bags and top case, I go back

in to partake of the wonderfully prepared continental breakfast included in the room

price. There, I encounter a trucker who is curious about my motorcycle.

“What sorta bike is that anyway? It don’t say on it anywhere, and I don’t think I’ve

ever seen one of ‘em.”

“It’s a Yamaha FJR.”

A pause.

“What size motor is it?”

“Just under 1300cc’s.” I answer.

“I like the looks of it. It’s real quiet too, ain’t it?” he says thoughtfully.

“Yeah, it’s a really great bike I think.”

“Which way are you heading?”

“East. To Wisconsin. I’ll be leaving as soon as I can choke down this bagel and coffee.”

“Watch out for deer this early. They’re thick around here. You might see a dozen dead

ones on the road between here and Des Moines.”

Okay, I don’t like hearing this. But I’m grateful for the warning.

“Really? There’s a lot of them around here?”

Just then another guy nearby says “Oh hell yeah. And the trouble is, with the corn

this high like it is right now, and right up against the freeway, they pop out so quick

and there’s nothing you can do about it. But it’ll be worse when they start the harvest.

That gets them on the move. Anyone who’s lived around here more than a few months

has killed a couple of ‘em.”

Okay. Now I’m wishing it was just raining like hell instead. Cellphones in minivans,

and deer are my two biggest fears when riding.

A few minutes I' proceeding down death alley. I cover both brakes, stay

down behind my fairing, and try stay behind someone

till I’m into Des Moines and the sun is high in the sky.

A typical scene in Iowa. How can you not love it?

Note that the threatening sky followed me everywhere.



Iowa is a lot like Nebraska – but with hills. Across this beautiful state, and just

before Iowa City, I turn north on 380, shoot up to Cedar Rapids, and FINALLY get

off the interstate, and on to 151 and veering northeast toward Dubuque, the Mighty

Mississippi, and the state line. Actually, Dubuque is sort of on the “three corners”

–the point where Iowa, Wisconsin, and Illinois all meet. I think about changing course

a bit as I approach Dubuque and going into Illinois so that I can add it to the list of

states I’ve ridden through on a Ralphie the rocket, but I decide to just stick with my plan

and head straight for GB.

I must note that while I was in Durango, I was within an hour or so of the Four Corners,

and I might have added 2 more states there, but I can’t handle too much glory.

Thirteen states is enough for one trip. I traveled across this country a number of times

in my younger years with my folks and later in the military, but I never really took

note of anything I encountered. It was always just to get where I was going.

But I digress.

Not long after getting on 151, and as I approach a little town named Anamosa,

I see signs for the National Motorcycle Museum! Well hell! I can’t very well

just pass by that!

It was an hour or two well spent. Yeah, it was primarily a Harley shrine, but there

were plenty of other fantastic examples of 2-wheeled history. I won’t post but a

few of the hundreds of photos I took. I’m sure they’ll have an entire FJR wing there

one of these days.

Those were the days. Air cooled. Lousy handling. Nice. (I owned a CB750 and a Z1B.)



Original sport tourer?



....says a thousand words...





I love these things.



Life and machinery was simpler?



Ever wish you could shave some weight off your FJR?



uh...



Okay, fast forward, and I’m crossing the Bid Muddy, and at last Wisconsin. I like it

immediately. Right away with the hills, and soon the dairies, and silos, and lush greenery.

And everything is so clean and tidy. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but it seems like

all the lawns are better tended, the houses are freshly painted, and the place just

seems so welcoming. Holy cow! It’s just like the postcards.

I stayed on 151 up through Madison and on to Columbus, where I somehow missed

a sign and ended up going east on 16, a little state road. It was a blessing though,

as it took me through a bunch of small towns. I zigged and zagged my way back

up to 151 and on to Fond du Lac (in French –farthest end of the lake.) Then I

jumped on 23, shot over to 57, up through Elkhart Lake, and Green Bay is coming up!

Well, 57 was full of detours, but it only added to the adventure.

By early evening I rolled into Green Bay, and quickly found myself riding my

bug and road grime covered FJR down Lombardi Avenue and past Lambeau Field.

Holy friggin’ crap! What a sight! Okay, I’ll be doing the tour stuff tomorrow.

For now, it’s into the Best Western –in the shadow of Lambeau – and we’ll cut

this day’s report off here. I couldn’t help going right out and exploring in the

dark a little later, but enough for now. I need a beer.





Day 6 mileage – 590.

WOW! Great job on the report and pictures. I am envious of the journey too! :clapping:

As a current NE resident I can only shake my head and agree. You took probably the biggest "snooze-inducing" path through the state. I took I80 out to Denver for a hiking trip. I would suggest to anyone thinking of passing through NE from Denver to seriously consider highway 34/6 or 20. I know you went through Cheyenne, but right now I can't remember if there was a reason for that.

Then through Iowa (DEER!) consider HWY 30 to 40 then over to DSM then 65/330...

I'm guessing that you, like many others, just wanted to get through NE and IA without falling asleep or hitting a deer

On your next trip to Green Bay through Omahell, take I-680 around. Adds 5 miles versus taking I-80 through, but you avoid the most congested part of I80 until you get to to Illinois. Or PM me - I will be making a trip to the Dubuque, IA area every year (family) and can suggest the roads I take. I won't followed the same path twice.

Just sayin' .... :blink:

Way, way cool report and pics -- keep 'em coming

Just like re-living a couple of our vacations rolled into one - cool looking at photo's like the ones in our albums.

Old Michael,

Great trip report - and pics. I like the fact that you took your time, and obviously stopped for so many photos.

Absolutely great stuff.

The Eureka Opera House seems to be a popular stop -