FZ6 Vs. North America

[lonesoldier84]

ALRIGHT. Finally. Still not done but maybe getting the ball rolling will encourage me to finish writing it all. Writing about it allows me to re-experience it. Love it. I tried to keep this chronologically accurate but I'm apparently retarded so some of it is an approximation. Pretty close though.

Ok. So I find some time to start putting this thing together. I wanted to delay going back through the trip’s pictures until there came a time winter was really grinding my gears and I wanted to relive the trip, mile by mile. I will try to put this together as best as I can, and I will try to keep the emotional masturbation to a minimum. Most of the people reading this have probably done a lot of riding trips as well, so I don’t need to tell you about the joys of riding in painstaking detail.

For me, this was my second trip that lasted longer than a couple days. My other trip was a ride through BC. There was a lot about that trip that opened my eyes to how epic riding trips really are. After I got back from it, going on longer and more epic trips became a bit of a focus for me. The day I got back from the BC trip I started planning the trip I went on this past August. The motivation behind it was just to go as far and ride as hard as I could until I had to come home again. 17 days was the time period I had to work with. I drew up a general and random route that was really pretty optimistic.

When I put it together initially I went through google maps and just tried to hit every single road I thought I’d be able to. My goal was to do 900km a day for four days then having 1-2 days off then repeat. As the time for the trip got closer I re-routed my trip with a bit more practicality and room for casual riding days. In the end it was vaguely close to what I had initially wanted to do so I was happy with the scope.

In the months leading up to the riding trip, a lot went wrong. I picked up a knee injury from football, and a couple things happened mechanically with the bike that cost quite a bit to fix. My budget was getting stretched and I hadn’t even left yet. My knee healed up to the 80-85% mark when the time for trip came and that was good enough for me. I threw a bunch of supplies together in the last couple days, loaded the FZ up like a mule, and hit the road.

My plan was primarily to avoid primary highways. If I could avoid them as much as possible, I would be satisfied with my route. Lessons would be learned, I figured, about each area I passed through to help me plan better routes in the future.

The first day was completely anti-climactic. A lot of planning and anticipation for a couple months was followed by big delays on the first day of the trip. I made it to High River just south of Calgary.

But whatever, I figured. I’d get an early start the next day and the trip would start in earnest. Forward progress was being made and that’s all that mattered. I also decided to pick up a large jerry can and strap it to my luggage to extend my range. This would allow me to stop worrying so much about distance to gas stations and would ease my ability to include roads I wanted to take without hurting the schedule too much diverting to gas stations.

Oh, and just FYI, I had ridiculously good luck with weather on the way down. I only got rained on for like a day or so in total, and the vast majority of the time there was nothing but bright blue skies and puffy white clouds. It was picture perfect every single day. I couldn’t believe my luck.

Day two: Decompression.

That is the word that has lingered in my mind since then. Decompression. That is the best way to describe the start to one of these trips imo. The anticipation has reached its climax and the first few days are just getting the hell away from home and forgetting everything about where you’re coming from and you think only about the road ahead. The tarmac stretches on and on ahead of you, and all the tension of life in general and sorting your **** out to be able to make this trip in the first place fades away. You decompress. Your brain is emptied of everything and filled with the drone of your engine and the subtle but overwhelming feeling of complete freedom. The bright blue prairie skies, the mountains in the distance, the tarmac ahead, the air rushing past you, and the entirety of the world within reach…freedom. Epic, spectacular….freedom.

You should keep in mind for the rest of this write-up that I have a fuzzy memory now of where I started and ended on the various days or even where the hell I went. I really just sort of had a general direction of “South West” and the destination of ultimately meeting up with friends in Southern Cali. Everything in between in either direction was just sort of deciding where I wanted to go at food stops, gas stops, and sometimes just when I saw something shiny down a side road.

But on this, my second day of riding, I did hit the US border and cross into Montana. I ended the day’s ride in Missoula. On the way there, I detoured through what seemed like my own private road. For a couple hours I worked my through a gravel road that was a secondary highway on the map. It looked like it went through some interesting terrain, so I went with it. I’m glad I did. It was a brilliant way to spend the second day. I only saw one other motorist the entire time I was on it, and it was a fellow on a V-Strom that caught up to me and passed by me while I was stopped having some water. I made a mental note that I really have to commit to buying an adventure-touring mount. All I could think of down this road was how badly I wanted to just say “to hell with it” and just turn off the road and get straight at all the scenery that made up the backdrop of the landscape.

I made it through the US border without incident. I had been paranoid about this but it was all for nothing. The American border guards were friendly and welcoming. They get painted to be power-mad assholes so often I just sort of assumed they’d give me a bit of a headache.

I was behind schedule, but decided I wouldn’t care too much about that. Glacier National Park was accessible so I rode it. The roads were decent and there were some decently fun stretches. But the scenery was brilliant as was to be expected. I was very pleased I made the detour.

Day 3-4: Riding Montana/Wyoming/Idaho

I am not entirely sure where the hell I went looking back at a map now, but I did make it into each of these three states at one point. Montana was mostly an endless series of high speed sweepers. The riding was very relaxing and punctuated by changes of landscape between streams/rivers/rocky hills/forest.

One thing that struck me was the deforestation. I’ve always said one of the great things about riding is how it puts you in touch with the land you’re passing through in a pretty special way. You start to develop an appreciation for the view Native Americans had of the land. It just sort of….”is”. It has always been there, and as a civilization we have really not made that much of an impression on it yet. But we will. You see the scale of deforestation and you know that in the future, someone riding the same path will not have the same serene beauty to enjoy. Already there were stretches of road in Montana where you just see a lot of miles of the sides of hills with what looks like toothpicks sticking out of the ground where trees once stood. It definitely stood out from the rest of the area.

Anyway, I’ll get back on topic. Idaho/Wyoming were interesting because I decided to throw away the map most of the time and just sort of follow my nose and gradually work my way south. I allowed myself to meander east a bit though because I did want to hit the Grand Canyon before I passed through Vegas into L.A.. At one point, in my quest to be “hardcore adventure rider” (haha, yeah, I know…hardly) I took a detour off the secondary highways and onto roads that didn’t show up on the map. They were pretty unmaintained at got pretty rocky. It went from gravel, to just big ass rocks and ruts in the sand at one point. I made a mental note to try to get a skid-plate welded somehow to the bike if I did this in the future. But for now, there was fun to be had and I just tried to be a bit careful about it.

The corkscrew!!!

 

[lonesoldier84]

Don't overshoot...lol

Man, was I glad I picked that road. It was great. I didn’t see anyone on the road and it really did feel like I was in a cozy little corner of Wyoming. I was a bit cautious working my way through here since I knew the possibility existed that someone would come blasting through there in a Jeep or something. But in the end it was just me. When I made it out the other side, I flagged down a local rider and got directions back to a main road.

I was still behind schedule and my schedule already was just “haul ass to the Grand Canyon before you rest”. So I kept pushing on. Days 2, 3, and 4, were some pretty long days.

At another point during this stretch (I think it was actually before all of that above this…timeframe is blurry), I finally hit rain. And I hit it at the worst time too. I arrived in a sleepy town of a decent size at the 8pm mark. I figured I would definitely be able to get a room since I didn’t feel like camping. Well, there was a boat show in town so everything was filled right up. I decided to push onto the next sizeable town which was like 4 hours away. Poor planning screwed me over again. As it got dark it started to piss rain. The road was a twisty out of the way highway which had been brilliant fun during the day, but at night it was something else entirely. Another part of the poor planning which was hurting me was how tired I was getting. I was exhausted.

So, it was pitch black, it was pissing rain, and I was so tired I had to make a mental effort to stay sharp especially as it got closer to midnight. The thing that really made it tough was I had forgot to pack my Rain-X and couldn’t see a thing through my visor. So, here I am barreling down an unknown and windy road, blind and exhausted. It was a bit nerve-racking, but kinda awesome at the same time. Then out of nowhere a group of local Harley riders came blasting out of nowhere and I let them pass me. That was strangely inspirational. I found a new resolve to haul ass and used their pace and direction to gauge my own pace and direction. I followed them until they turned off 20 or so miles before my stop for the night. I was very thankful for their catching up to me. I could offer them a bunch of praise here, but suffice it to say cruiser riders in general earned a ton of respect in my eyes after that night. They may not pursue the “art of riding” the way sport riders do, but they do plow through endless miles and there is a lot to be said for that. Hats off to the cruiser riders.

Day 5: Vegas or bust.

Lava Hot Springs in Idaho to Las Vegas Nevada in a day. It doesn’t sound so bad. But it wasn’t the plan initially. I really wanted to see the Grand Canyon and one of the things I was really looking forward to in planning this trip was to camp in the Grand Canyon and wake up to a sunrise there. But as I got closer, I was feeling the pressure of time. I had wasted a chunk of the day aimlessly riding around. Now, I had planned on riding the fun roads up to the Canyon and had been looking forward to it. But seeing where I was, where I wanted to be, and how long it would take to get there, I wouldn’t make it until it was the dead of night. And riding through that area under complete darkness was not overly appealing. And even if I did go for it, I would be exhausted and then have to find a place to camp, and set up camp all in the middle of the night. Poor planning? Yup. That’s a big lesson I learned on this trip more than once. Adventure and some amount of planning are not mutually exclusive. Randomness is fun, but complete randomness will mean you don’t get to do some of the things you want and you will find yourself in the situation I did on this day. There was a grueling ride coming up to make Vegas.

But before I get into the ride to Vegas, I did want to talk about the chunk of the day I had wasted. I was coming down an interesting highway and having a good time when I eventually got bored of it.

I caught a glimpse of a turn-off with an information board posted. I turned back a few minutes later and decided that I would forego the Grand Canyon and get my jollies in here. There was a road that led into and up to the tops of the hills I had been passing through. I went for it. I had a full tank of gas and a Jerry can and I figured I would ride through it no matter how far it went since it seemed it would take me in the approximate right direction. And even if it took me out of the way a little bit, whatever, no big deal.

I made a friend (or an enemy....I'll never know).

But this about sums up the Battlax tires' offroad performance...

Another reason I decided to go for it was because one thing that really bugs me when I ride is seeing the tops of mountains and hills. I really want to get up there somehow. It just looks like it would be so awesome. So when I saw the chance to get to the tops of the big hills I had been passing through, I decided to go for it. And besides, if I cancelled on the Grand Canyon it would put me back on target for Southern California and I could do this stretch of “road” and be the “hardcore adventurer” haha. So I decided I’d see the Grand Canyon another trip.

I finally got to the top and then immediately regretted not bringing food.

Camping up there would have been epic. I made a mental note to pack some food the next time I ate so that if I found another road like this I could camp whenever it suited me. As I got deeper in I decided that not knowing where the hell this road went could end badly. I could end up really hungry and having to double back on myself and ride back the same way but hungry and displeased. So I turned around and got back on the road I was on before I turned off.

I stopped for some sandwiches at this place called Atomic something or other. The food was awesome. That’s one thing that struck me about the States. The reason everyone’s so fat is because their food is so damned good. The little burger and sandwich shops make killer meals. It’s greasy, but awesome. Well, anyway, before I left I packed away a ham and cheese sandwich in my luggage and got going again.

At this point I still did really want to see the Grand Canyon and was trying to find a way to include it in the plan. I stopped for food at a Denny’s somewhere north of Salt Lake City. I think I was in Ogden. Sitting there going over the map and seeing the clock telling me it was already evening-time, I decided the Grand Canyon was out of the picture officially. I then also decided that I had spent WAY too much time dicking around and needed to put in some hard miles and slab it until I was actually ahead of schedule. If I could get into Vegas ahead of schedule then I could have the nice and easy trip through California that I wanted.

And thus began the grueling ride to Vegas. This was one of two times on the riding trip I was genuinely concerned for my well-being. I didn’t get started until the early evening time, and had to plow through Salt Lake City at the tail end of its rush hour traffic before I could even get started. I figured between my extra fuel and packed sandwiches, I could just put on miles and not have to think about anything except just getting to Vegas.

By about 9pm it was apparent that it was going to start getting dark soon. I decided to rip through one tank of gas “as quickly as situation would allow” and then settle into an easy pace until Vegas. Well, it turns out “as quickly as the situation would allow” on a fairly empty primary highway in the middle of the desert is pretty quick. I got through that tank pretty quickly and filled up and topped up my Jerry can too. I figured I couldn’t possibly be that far away now. When I saw the next sign of “miles to Vegas” I shook my head. I was still like 198 miles away. I then settled into the gradual grind to Vegas in the dark. It was now completely dark and I was more tired than I had been at any point previously on this trip. The miles droned on, and I tried to keep a watchful eye for whatever desert creatures could potentially cross the road. The road wasn’t “twisty” but it did bend back and forth. The heat, the long days, and the boring miles really started to take its toll. It got to the point where I sincerely did not think I would make to Vegas. “Vegas is out of your reach” I thought, but I decided to go for it. I would stop whenever I got too tired and stretch and walk around a little bit and drink a ton of fluids. For the last bit I was stopping every 10-15 miles I was seriously that tired. And another thing that sticks out in my memory is this eerie glow in the sky. It was so bizarre. I was mentally completely out of it and this eerie glow combined with the drone of the engine made for a really wonky bit of time.

I stop to recharge and eat my sandwich.....

Oh god...

The desert heat + cheese and meat =

When I finally turned a corner and made a visual on Vegas and saw the sign that said like 14 miles to Vegas all around the same bend, I was so thrilled.

I finally pulled into my hotel which I found pretty easily around the 2:30am mark. I opened the door to my hotel room and was met with a big dude in the shower, and clothes and underwear literally scattered over every surface in the room. I was like, WTF, the hotel people screwed up and gave someone else my room by mistake. Then he hollered out and I figured out it was my buddy from out east who had ridden down and was like two days ahead of schedule. He had put on a similar number of miles in recent days since he was also pretty far from home.

I showered. I ate. I slept. Best food and night’s sleep ever.

Vegas baby.

Next couple days: To L.A.

Over the next couple days I met up with another buddy from Vegas and we rode around and in general took it easy. We then made our way to L.A. and Kenny (Vegas buddy) showed us some pretty sweet roads on the way there. Before we got there, though, we had to make it through the face-melting ride through desert at high noon in the height of summer. It is seriously like having someone hold a blow dryer in your face at the max setting. People with lighter skin should make note to bring a ton of sun-tan lotion. I have heard of people getting NASTY sun burn on their faces riding through the desert.

Dirk and Kenny!

Kenny gets us some epic food.

Haha....cultured....

Loved this eatery though. Had a nice feel to it. Music was downtempo jazz.

The craziest FJR known to man. Continent crosser.

That's a fuel cell. And supplies to do oil changes on the road because that's how far he travels every couple days...we ended up chatting with him and his buddy. Great guys.

Gallons of water (or catheter, can't remember)

Bye bye Vegas!!

But, with the soul-shattering ride to Vegas behind me, laid back days riding through sunny California and its many canyons were very welcome. I was still loaded up like a mule and made a mental note to try to get rid of as much of my luggage as I could when I got to L.A.. That was another lesson learned…..packing. I packed WAY too much ****. And then I threw a massive Jerry can on it….just retarded.

Anyway, back on topic. We enjoyed the roads through the canyons and stopped every once in a while so as to keep the overall pace of the day pretty laid back. We only had to get as far as LA.

Waiting on Dirk....LOL

Finally dude.

But then, during one of these stops, eagle-eyed Dirk from out east spotted something shiny and metal in my rear tire. “@$$@#$#@$#@$@” I said. #^%%^#$^@#$% it to hell.

Well, major kudos to Dirk for spotting it when he did. But we still had a problem. It was holding in the air, but with the big load of my rather supple ass and a ton of luggage on it, I didn’t want to go very far on it. There were a couple Ducati riders at the stop we were at and one of them offered up a spare race tire he had. We took him up on his offer and followed him home. It was fortunate for us that he had a spare tire. It was fortunate for him that I had a stupid amount of spare fuel on the back with my luggage since he was running on fumes already.

 

[wheatonFJR]

wow. This is EPIC.

I am such a weenie with my trips. You sir...are what I envisioned myself to be when I'm touring. Now, your trip is like a mirror to me and show me what a sham I am.

Where did you start from again??

 

[Burnspot]

Wow, pretty neat! I toured a bit on my old FZ6, but not quite in a dual sport fashion.

 

[lonesoldier84]

wow. This is EPIC.

I am such a weenie with my trips. You sir...are what I envisioned myself to be when I'm touring. Now, your trip is like a mirror to me and show me what a sham I am.

Where did you start from again??

Started from Edmonton, Alberta. Yeah….the first 6 hours are a drone haha. It’s pretty anti-climactic after the big buildup to the trip to drone through the prairies for the first day.

But you should just do it. Honestly, the more you think about how great it will be or the more you try to set things up so it is all JUUUUUUST right for the “big trip”….it just doesn’t happen. Get a couple weeks off, place them with a long weekend at one end of it, and just load up and head out. If you have a tent and sleeping bag, the trip really won’t cost you that much.

Think of it this way…if you were at home you’d still have to pay for gas and food anyway, so the cost of the trip is not that much really.

Besides, you are armed with my dream machine…the Continental Assault Vehicle….the FJR. It would be so easy and so thoroughly brilliant from your mount on that thing. I have no doubt at all that this summer you will just do it.

Wow, pretty neat! I toured a bit on my old FZ6, but not quite in a dual sport fashion.

Haha, yeah but it was definitely displeased with me sometimes. Like pulling a donkey where it doesn’t want to go.

But anything short of the genuinely rough stuff and it was great. Sand, gravel, rocks, light trails, fire-roads….it was great.

Just wait till you see what happened in Oregon!!

 

[El Toro Joe]

EPIC indeed

 

[escapefjrtist]

Great trip so far...a dual sport FZ6, who'd a thunk it!

Looking forward to the next installment.

--G

 

[Tom Edison]

A true adventurer! Great show of thinking outside the 'ol box. Sport/Dual bike. Great report looking forward

to the next installment. :yahoo:

 

[BrettB]

awesome to read this so far, and inspiring! Great RR

 

[mfletch69]

the Force is strong with this one...

 

[lonesoldier84]

Well, after I fueled the Ducati guys’ tanks up a little bit like the motorcycle fuel tanker than I was, we got rolling to pick up a spare rear race tire one of them had. The pace from this point was quite slow as we nursed my bike down the canyon roads. I was pretty pissed to be quite honest. These canyon roads were what I had been looking forward to for quite a while. But “sunny California” is right. It blew me away how beautiful the days were and how little that changed over the course of the year. I had to be in a dream. This couldn’t be a real place. Year round riding? That is worth any sacrifice. It really is. To hell with Edmonton.

Nice rides.

We finally arrived at this fellow’s place around 6 or 7 if I recall correctly. We all took the opportunity to enjoy the hospitality of the “Ducati Dudes” and rest up for a bit. We poked around Robert’s garage and saw tucked behind some things….a full-on Graves R6. I didn’t get a picture of it but Dirk did. I hope they don’t mind my putting it up…but I will.

Well, after we rested up a bit we got ready to head out, I grabbed the spare race tire and threw it on top of the rest of my stuff. At this point everyone thought it was pretty hilarious and I’ll admit I laughed at it too….but holy shit. Seriously, I burned into my mind the lesson learned….don’t pack so much god damned useless shit. I am not going to list all the stuff I brought….but I could have easily thrown half of it away and not have been that bothered. It’s nice to have it all, but it’s not needed. And you need to boil it down to the bare, bare minimum and essentials on a riding trip. With the rear loaded on, I felt like I was navigating a loaded camel through the desert.

We got rolling. The dealerships were closed and there was no way to mount the tires, but the tire had held up so far and so I decided to push on a little way further to a friend’s house which was about 90 minutes away. John was kind enough to give a couple of us a place to crash for the evening. That was a good night. Good times.

The next morning, John got ready to head out with us for the next stretch to Laguna Seca along the coastline. Half of us had never seen it before so we felt like kids on the way to Disneyworld.

Jesus Christ. Lesson learned....leave the sink at home.

Here I will make mention of John’s modding abilities. Not only did he create from scratch everything needed for a streetfighter conversion (eg. brackets/etc), but he MADE an exhaust system. And all of this just by tinkering around and researching things on the internet. That’s some commitment. I had seen a couple pictures before, but they didn’t do the bike justice. It was as unique as it was pleasing to look at. Great work.

Second from the right.

We had a quick breakfast and got moving. First stop was a local bike shop to get the tire mounted. They refused to help out and fit us in that morning (we were there literally as they opened too….lame). I forget what they were called otherwise I’d post the name. So we decided to roll down to Santa Barbara Motorsports since I was planning on meeting up very briefly with a friend that lives there for lunch. The guys at SBM were great. They went out of their way to get me in and my tire changed so we could get rolling again. They understood the need for expediency right in the middle of a big riding trip. Thanks gents. Anyone in the area should definitely check them out if they need anything.

So, with the tire finally on and lunch in our bellies, we finally got moving towards the ride for the day. I had left most of my stuff with my buddy in Santa Barbara since I was going to come back down after Laguna Seca. I was finally light and nimble for one of the best stretches of road of the trip. It worked out great. The highway that curls along the coastline is beyond brilliant. For someone landlocked in the Canadian prairies all his life, riding down a secondary highway along the shoreline was more than my senses could take in. The endless expanses of water, the brilliant blue skies, and this brilliant bit of tarmac snaking its way through the rocky terrain climbing as it went through numerous elevation changes and switchbacks….oh god it was epic.

Lazy bastards. Get a job ya bums.

 

[lonesoldier84]

This is worth any sacrifice. It is beyond addictive. Southern California lives up to the hype and then some. I’ve seen some stretches of road in South Africa and in Australia that are similar in terms of landscape/roads. But this is within reach. It is practical if you force it a little bit. Make the sacrifice. Make the trip. You will be beyond thrilled with yourself for doing it.

Traffic was pretty light and we kept a good pace. We got to quite near Laguna Seca before we decided to stop for the night. Food is so great on riding trips. It’s like you’ve never seen food before everytime you get a meal. Love it.

The next morning we hit the road pretty early and before long we were at Laguna Seca.

Now, seeing it for the first time is brilliant. You’ve seen it on countless screens either in races or in video games. But as you come over the rise and see it nestled in its valley, and you see all the flags flapping in the wind and the circuit itself comes into view….yeah. It's pretty special.

I have a panorama shot I'll have to crop together of the full track view from the top.

But..

There was a race school in progress and a class was whipping around on Mazda MX-5’s. The urge to get out on that track with a motorbike is intense. I looked into it and th only option was to pay $2,000 - $3,000 (or something ludicrous) for a three day Skip Barber course on an RC-8. They didn’t have any open trackdays for bikes in that time window. But one day…

The corkscrew is something else. I had heard you have to see it to really get how extreme it is. And you really do. It is like driving off a cliff. You could see it on the cars hurtling over it. Full compression of their suspension followed by a complete release as it seemed like the entire undercarriage of the car just fell away. And you see the underside of the car when you’re standing near the bottom. They do fly off that thing.

I'll put up a video of the cars flying off the top later.

We all said our goodbyes as we were leaving Laguna. The others were carrying on to San Fran then hoofing it back East. I was going to work my way back south with John to have a couple days of surfing with my buddy in Santa Barbara. Oh, and high-powered rifle shooting. Haha, you can’t come to the States and not blow something up. His house had formed the ultimate destination of the trip as a kind of “max distance checkpoint”. The concept was that everything after Santa Barabara would be “on the way home”. I was going to be a tiny bit behind schedule but still had time to turn into central California to explore the canyons as I worked my way up to Northern California.

So, with the other guys gone, John and I picked up the pace a little bit on the way back south. Having a decent idea of where the really tricky bits were was good. All the corners held a steady radius or opened up as you went through them. There were very few off-cambre bits but some of the hairpins were wickedly tight. When it said 10mph corner….it was a 10mph corner.

It's like this ALL god damn year there.....Jesus.

After we got about three quarters of the way through the fun bits John fell pretty far behind as he got caught behind a truck and I pressed on for a bit. I finally found a nice scenic place to stop off and waited. After a little while John pulled up and we used the time to rest up and have some water and soak in the shoreline. It is pretty peaceful when you’re not flying through it. So awesome.

There he comes.

We got rolling again. Now, I’ve mentioned I learned a number of lessons on this trip? Here was another BIG one coming up. When you stop to cool off….so do your tires. And you can’t assume the tires you have on will behave the same way as the set you “always” use. The reason I wasn’t too bothered about my tires was that I had supreme faith in them. They were race tires! And I am not a racer. Warming them up a little bit would provide infinitely more traction then I would EVER need….

Well….

This flashlight took the full brunt of it and still works well to this day. Lol.

There was a slight elevation change and the second corner of this stretch of two was much tighter than the first one.

Looking back:

Draggin Jeans < Leather.

I had lined it up and was coming off the brakes and rolling back onto the throttle. I was a tiny bit quick and the rear was stepping out ever so slightly (as I have the habit of leading with the rear brake before rolling onto the throttle when I am “in-too-quick”). But I was still within my comfort zone and thought nothing of it. I got my body position sorted out during the straight-line braking portion and tipped the bike into the corner…but it tipped….all the way. Haha. I dragged my knee…..then rapidly followed that up in quick succession with my elbow, shoulder, and the side of my head.

But no big deal….right? Ok so the luggage was mangled. Whatever. So my gloves and jacket were coming apart slightly. Whatever. So your windscreen was destroyed…whatever. Grind through it you’re still good for the rest of the trip….

That’s what I was telling myself anyway. But nope.

God damn it.

Handlebars were bent quite badly and I had no front brakes. Awesome.

I had a very minimal amount I could turn her and almost ran her off the road a couple times. Any kind of speed was impossible since I couldn’t turn and even if I could I had no brakes except the rear. We nursed her back until we got to a local bike shop about 90 minutes away. That was a crazy 90 minutes. At one point John turned to me as we came up on a ton of traffic and asked with a hand signal if I was up to lane-splitting. I shrugged at him to say “what are you joking???” and he immediately nodded his head and rocketed off into traffic splitting lanes as he went. Haha, god damn it John! I couldn’t afford to lose him since I had no idea where we were so I kept up….but if anything had happened needing me to brake that would have been it for me. Ah well, if you gotta go, no better place than Southern California!

We finally got to a shop and the guys there were beyond helpful. They stayed late WELL past their 5pm closing time and got me sorted out. A set of dirtbike handlebars and brakelines off a cruiser to give me one functional caliper on the front was a massive improvement.

Now, this is where I have to tell everyone about a place called Anderson’s Pea Soup in Buelton, California. Seriously. This is probably the greatest place on earth. I have been DYING to go back. https://www.peasoupandersens.net/ So awesome. On a long day’s ride through the chilly coastal area, this stuff is beyond amazing. They give you a bunch of stuff with the soup it’s a whole big thing about it. I’d never had soup this good. I made some Cream of Mushroom in my pants as I was eating it.

We got back to Santa Barbara Motorsports and I got them to change out my rear. I now hated this race tire. “Full Bore” was the brand name. The guys at the shop told me “yeah it was an EXTREMELY hard compound tire and it was all but impossible to get on”. Great. I felt like an idiot but whatever. Some lessons you have to learn the hard way. It could have been worse.

Unsafe to operate? To hell with that!

But now I wanted them to do a full check on the bike and make sure everything was good for the rest of the ride. The next day was not the peaceful day of surfing I had envisioned. John and I parted ways and I rested up in Santa Barbara for a while. I was sore but still doing alright.

Walther PPK. Bond, James Bond.

Range? Can't remember. Pushed it to medium-ish so not too close.

Good cluster for shooting at fat people. Best not rob a Dunkin Donuts when I'm around, haha.

Good friend of mine from Santa Barbara. I still hate his guts for living in such an amazing place haha.

I'm still a threat to fat people....even from a distance...

Well, at this point I was still pretty enthusiastic. “It’s man Vs. the world, you’re going to take a few shots” I told myself. I had been keeping score in my head of “amazing holy shit this is awesome” moments vs “god damn it you’re retarded” moments. Right now “retarded” had scored an equalizer to round out the first half, haha.

Definitely not as shiny as when we left home.

But, I was determined to rock on and grind through it. The best moments only happen when you gring through the shittier ones. And riding through California gunning for the Oregon coast I had heard so much about was definitely not a shitty way to spend a few days. But I never made it to the nice bit of the Oregon coast. It was bloody cold without a windscreen in the damp and cool coastal air. I turned it inland into Redwood country eventually. Within an hour or so, the mercury rocketed upwards and I was back to enjoying brilliant summer days again.

Now, Oregon….HOLY SHIT!

It was just supposed to be a random state on the way back to BC….but holy hell was it awesome. Seriously turned out to be one of the best spots on the trip. I had told myself that with only 40% of my initial front-braking capacity I would take it easy…..but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Oregon was beautiful and the roads were truly remarkable. The corners were a great batch of relaxing sweepers you could hit at a comfortable speed that was quick enough to be brilliant fun and slow enough to spot wildlife. Wildlife was a big concern in this area because of how lush Oregon is. You are cutting through endless swathes of lush forest.

The redwoods are huge. You think you know they are big just by seeing pictures, but seeing them in person is something else. They have been there for a VERY long time.

 

[lonesoldier84]

Climbing higher now:

This was pretty sweet:

Quite cold tbh:

 

[lonesoldier84]

The roads were still fun though:

 

[lonesoldier84]

Oregon just feels so god damned epic. It's so lush and fresh. The roads are clean. The traffic is light. I loved it. I can't wait to go back. Oregon > California in a lot of ways.

 

[lonesoldier84]

Just perfect.

I stopped off to fuel up. I glanced at a map. I thought to myself….okay, you’ve had the sport portion of the trip….now it’s time to do some REAL adventuring. Can an FZ6 cross a river?? Let’s hope so! Haha. I figured the “retarded” bit of the scoreline would probably take a decisive lead but whatever, let’s do it.

So I looked at the map and tried to find the most interesting thing to set as a target.

“Oregon Caves”….no marked roads leading up to it….sounds about right. You’re extreme…you’re superman….you’re King-fucking-Kong. Go for it.

Well, the first bit up to the Caves was all paved. It was about a lane and a half wide all the way up the big, big climb. The road was WICKED. It was not engineered the way highways usually are. It was like someone had just randomly paved wherever the hell they could. There were decreasing-radius off-cambre chicanes all over the place with some linking up to 5 tight corners together. It was brilliant. I was beaming with pride when I got out the other end. OTP sessions FTW! Haha. Thanks Justin! I’d probably be neck-deep in a tree-trunk if it weren’t for the lessons. No doubt in my mind.

So, here’s where it gets interesting. I make it to the top of the paved bit and see a sign that says “no camping beyond this point”….I scoff at it... “Ha! I’m extreme….I’m superman….I’m King-fucking-Kong. That stuff doesn’t apply to me.”

I pass a hotel/chateau at the top. I don’t consider going in for even a second. I carry onwards and upwards. I see a fireroad darting up a stupidly steep incline. Yes! There, we go. The path is laying itself before me. I have only to follow it.

I start the climb which seems to go on forever. I worry about letting off the throttle because with the loose rocks under the bike I know I will slide and fall that’s how steep the incline is. It levels out. I stop to drink some water. I packed some food this time around so I have a bite to eat. Nothing is going to get in the way this time. I have my 500-gallon fuel tank reserve with me as well.

 

[lonesoldier84]

I come up to a fork in the road. One road has a sign post saying “This will take you to such and such area via such and such road” and the other road has a sign post with a car symbol with an ‘X’ through it. It says “this road is not maintained and travel is not recommended”.

LOL….not recommended? Maybe not for others. But me? I’m extreme….I’m superman….I’m King-fucking-Kong. Carry on, full-speed ahead!

Well, it wasn’t quite full-speed since the road really did turn quite bloody nasty. Quite a few parts needed careful picking-through. I even got kinda airborne at one point (or it felt like I did, haha I probably didn’t get so much as an inch off the ground). Anyway, I kept on going. I was just on my way to find some vision of the most epic camping spot ever I had in my head. But it never came. An hour and a half went by and all I was getting was more of the same. There was a big drop to one side and a big climb up the other side. There was no level areas to set up camp or any way off this road/trail. This is why you research things. God damn it. I turned around.

I knew it would start to get dark in a while and I didn’t want to get caught up here in the dark. Navigating through the mess would be pretty shitty in the night. So I picked up the pace a little bit. At one point I thought to myself, keep an eye out for wildlife….you’re going too quick you won’t be able to stop you will have to dodge.

Having just been through this area I had the rough bits pretty well mapped out in my head. I was making great time. I came through a straight section and saw something move out of the corner of my eye. A bear!! A fucking grizzly bear!! Holy shit! It started running down the side of the road and started moving across but was not cutting straight across the road. It was weaving a little bit. I aimed for where it was and it shot across the road. The bike fish-tailed quite a bit but straightened out. Holy shit I can’t believe I fucking dodged it! It was a bear cub but not a small one but definitely not an adult yet.

Now this is the part where the internet is bad for you. I had been paranoid about bears and read a lot of bear cubs and mama bears. So instantly at this point my brain snapped to “holy shit you just shot between a bear cub and the mama bear…..the mama bear is going to be chasing you!”

And this all happened within a split second.

-bear darts out

-I dodge

-I think holy shit is there a mama bear behind it??

I decide I’m not going to stick around. And thanks to the internet I remember adult grizzly bears can run up to 60kph in the wild. So I conciously decide to roll on the throttle and pick it up to 65kph…..just to be safe.

But as I am searching my mirrors for an angry Sarah Palin, the road disappears. My bike clips the rut in a way that has me land almost sideways. This time I did get airborne for damn sure. The bike snaps back the other way and I go flying off and do a nose-dive and face-plant into god knows where.

It’s quiet.

It’s black.

I try to stand up.

I fall.

I get up again.

Why can’t I see anything?

Light starts to bleed back into my world.

There’s a bike. That’s my bike.

There’s a bunch of shit scattered everywhere. That’s my shit.

I grab hold of a tree since my world is spinning, spinning and spinning some more.

Then….I remember….”HOLY SHIT YOU’RE BEING CHASED BY A FUCKING BEAR!!”

Haha

Ok, so it turns out I wasn’t actually being chased by a bear. But at that moment in time I was dazed and confused and was CONVINCED it was either chasing me or about to be chasing me. I looked around and I couldn’t see a bear. But I couldn’t really see anything. My eyes couldn’t track anything. Everything was spinning, spinning, and spinning some more. I grab as much of my shit as I can and stuff it back into the bike under the tie straps loosely. The plastic is coming off I just kick it back out of the forks. I try and fail to get the bike up and then on a second heave get it back up.

I jump on.

It won’t start.

I’m in panic-mode.

GO GO GO mofo. Get a move on.

Get the hell out of dodge. This is not where you want to be.

You can’t see and your bike won’t start, but just roll away from here. I roll the bike down the incline and it starts rolling on it’s own. Then remember those crazy steep inclines? Well, what a great time to hit one. I try to slow down but since I am only barely able to walk I complete lack the ability to threshold brake. I am only building up speed. I lock the rear and think to myself, “right, here we go again….”

I fall and the bike falls on top of me. This time I’m awake for it. And it hurts. I lay there for a bit and think to myself, “ok, calm the fuck down….you are still okay right now, but if you don’t get a hold of yourself you will find yourself in a situation you can’t deal with. You don’t have cell reception and nobody is coming down this road so it’s all you.”

I get out from the under the bike and take a moment to get everything together. My leg bloody hurts. I see some blood but I can still walk. I get the bike started and very, very slowly make my way down after getting my wits back. After what seems like forever, I make it back to the hotel/chateau.

Now as I pull into the parking lot the adrenaline is still surging. Holy shit man, you made it! That was close. And you’re still relatively uninjured. I start to feel an immense sense of relief. I walk up to the front door of the Chateau. I throw open the door. Literally everyone in the quite full lobby turns to stare. Civilized folk are enjoying glasses of Sherry and Cognac sitting around a piano. A big hairy indian man throws open the door covered from head to toe in white sand. I am sure at least a couple of them thought to themselves, “Oh God, this is how it ends….the terrorists have found us!” haha

I limp up to reception and try to decide if I want an ambulance or a room. I think about it and decide to get a room.

She ain't shiny no more...poor girl.

A fellow helps me with my stuff. But the only room available is on the 4th floor and there is no elevator. I haul half my stuff up there. I think only about a hot ass shower. I get into the room, there’s only a tub. One of those old-school tubs. I think, no worries. A hot bath will do. I slowly peel down and see what looks like a giant ass where my hip used to be. Oh god….now you’ve done it.

I work my way back down and reconsider my choice and decide I need it scanned. An ambulance starts driving out but the ETA is like 2 hours. I crash on the couch for a bit and wait. Paramedics come and look at my helmet and decide I should have a number of other scan as well.

I go to the hospital (2 hour drive again….coming on 5 hours since the crash now…the bloody bear cub is probably off playing with his friends).

I get everything checked out and am fine essentially. The ass on my hip is a giant hematoma. It’s like two grapefruits pinched together. I get a place to spend the night. Apparently the hospital has a full sized house they let people stay in sometimes. It’s right beside the hospital. I go inside. There’s brownies! Fresh brownies on the table! Home-made and everything. I destroy them. I destroy a number of other treats in the area. I sneak them into my room like a thief in the night. I eat, I pass the hell out in the most comfortable bed I have ever been in in my life. The next morning I run into probably the most awesome guy I’ve ever met. He’s eating in a diner I’m eating at. I guess I was looking like a ragged and stray dog limping around, but he asks me “what the hell happened to you?”. I explain briefly and he gets the hint that I need to find a way back up to the caves. He lives near there and so he offers to give me a ride. I take him up on it and off we go.

Now, what the hell do I do about my bike? The forks are shoved out of place and the bike is in tatters. I seriously consider having it shipped back home and taking a bus back. This is probably one of the most depressing thoughts ever. He says he knows someone who might be able to throw it back together a little bit. That night we all have dinner at the Chateau and his friend takes the bike back to his place.

2-3 days at the Chateau...it was nice. I was low on funds and my leg was bloody hurting like a mofo. Just dangling it to the floor it throbbed like hell. The ride back was going to be a real grind. Couldn't even do the touristy tour of the caves on account of my leg/hip. But the staff there will always be remembered for their tremendous kindness. Laura especially. She made sure I was well looked after. I was immensely grateful for that.

I highly recommend you check the place out. Seriously. The staff are beyond amazing and friendly, and the food is superb. The area is extremely peaceful and the caves are pretty sweet. The Chateau near Cave Junction in the Oregon Caves National Park/Monument.

A couple days later I head down and pick the bike up. Keep in mind this guy has been driving up and down to and from the Caves since he doesn’t actually live THAT close to the Chateau. I tell him I can’t keep imposing on his kindness but he has none of it.

I get rolling out of the Caves and after having lost a big chunk of time, still have a decent amount of time left. I very briefly consider going the direct route back home, but dismiss it pretty quickly. I have been shit-kicked, but I’m not throwing in the towel yet. I can barely get my leg over the seat and it hurts like hell especially with all the bumps, etc.

The route I take home is up through the primary highways then off into Olypmia peninsula where I will take a ferry over to Victoria then work through the Coquihala and on through Salmon Arm, Revelstoke, then home. Stretches of a couple hours push my stamina now. But I grind through it and even though I am not enjoying myself as much as I was earlier on the trip, I am still pleased I am out riding.

You're god damned right I posed for this! Timer haha. Go to hell I was taking a break. Safety glasses for the win though to be honest. Now the question you need to ask is did I have these packed ALL the way from home.....or did I buy them on the road?? HAHA

My rule of thumb that “you will never regret the decision to go on a nice ride” is still serving me well.

I spend the night in Victoria, then spend another night in Kamloops. The final stretch I make in one big go and make it back home one day ahead of schedule.

From whence I came:

Sun is setting on the trip...

I knew Edmonton was getting closer, and even though my leg was throbbing like a congo line of elves was trapped inside, I did feel a bit shitty that the trip was drawing to a close. This was now mid-August and with a busted up bike and hip and no money....Riding Season 2010 was definitely drawing to a close with this trip.

Time to get rolling again...not far now.

-"Staring at the world through my rear view. Just looking back at the world....from another level. You know what I mean?

They got me staring at the world through my rearview."-

During the final stretch I thought to myself about all the ways I could have done things better. There were MANY things I learned not just about riding itself and riding trips, but about so many other things both motorcycle and non-motorcycle related as well. But all things considered, and taken as a whole, I was immensely pleased with the trip. I tried to go over the trip in this ride report in some amount of detail because re-living it is reminding me just how awesome it was and how I really should make the effort to get down to California again this season. But even though I wrote a bunch, there is still so much that gets left out. There are countless small wonders that go into every day of riding and that make up each destination and checkpoint. Maybe that’s the thing that’s so brilliant about riding trips. You get a fresh start and over a couple weeks or month or months you get to live a complete life. A beginning, a middle, and an end make up the timeline and you are tied to nothing. You are a free man with no past, and no future. The trip itself becomes a world within a world and a life within a life. You are your best self.

Just watch out for bears.

I often tell people that everyone, and especially every man, should do one wickedly long riding trip solo in their lives. Even if you never do it again, you will not regret it.

You will never regret the decision to just…..go for a ride.

Final score:

FZ6: 5

West Coast: 4

 

[BwanaDik]

EPIC Adventure Absolutely Awesome :clapping: :clapping: :clapping: :yahoo: :yahoo:

I think we have a new winner here gang!

Thanks for taking us along!!!

Is there an FJR in your future? Might think twice about goat trails then. DAMHIK

But WTH?? GO FOR IT!!

 

[wheatonFJR]

Awesome...just awesome.

Loved every post. Thanks for sharing, lonesoldier84.