I get up around 9:30 and change my oil. Finish packing and Gord shows up. Neither of us can believe we are doing this. I wonder if I'm better at building motorcycles than riding them and hope I am not. It's overcast and threatening rain, but we drag ass anyways. The bikes are fully loaded, top heavy and unruly. We roll out of my front yard tepidly, relearning how to ride our now underpowered and overweight machines. I look back at my house and know I'll see it differently when I'm coming up the opposite end of the street nearly a month from now.
The ride out reveals something is amiss with Gord's bike. He's averaging around 30 miles per gallon. Considering he'd put only a handful of miles on it after we took out the motor I chalk it up to tuning. We agree to ride on and that we'll fix it in Tulsa, our day one destination.
Interstate 40 revolutionized the way people travel in this country. How many ghost towns did this soulless stretch of road leave in it's wake though? No road trip can involve riding this piece of crap. If anyone has had an adventure on a major interstate highway I'd like to hear about it. Riding i-40 to Tulsa from Little Rock was a necessary evil and none of it is worth remembering.
Finally in Oklahoma we hit the Muskogee Turnpike, pay our toll and ride into Tulsa. We meet my girlfriend in a bar. She's visiting a friend and has arranged for us to stay the night. Gord, me and Felicia share the front room. Out of respect for Gord I don't make sweet, sweet love to her in his presence.
Jordan and I spent two rotten days in Tulsa. Riding in we knew his gas milage situation was deteriorating rapidly to something like 50 miles per tank
! The bike could only muster a ride out of the city limits before depleting its fuel supply. A tow truck got us to Honda of Tulsa, although they were closed. We got the fanciest hotel we could considering Gord's insurance was footing the bill and slept until about 10:30a.m. like a couple of hobos on abandoned matresses. We headed back to Honda of Tulsa for some help. These guys were the least hospitable people I met on the trip. A thumbs down review and gory details lie here, but it's not directly related to the (amazing) ride: Buttheads of Tulsa
We hunkered down behind a gas station and spent all day going through Gord's carburetors in the blazing sun. That, coupled with switching his bike to premium fuel netted us about 43 miles per gallon. That'll do pig, that'll do...
Behind the gas station
Back on the road we hooked up with state highway 412 and ripped across central Oklahoma like wildfire. We met a nice fella on a rare Suzuki GT550. That's a two stroke tripple! Very strange bike. Seems kind of useless considering it was a two stroke, but it looked fantastic. At a stop for gas Gord frantically tells me he has knocked both bikes over as I fill up my water bag. Luckily my bike broke his bikes fall. Then within a couple hours my tach needle became stuck and while thumping the housing I break the glass. We are stumbling out of the gate.
We make it to Boiling Springs State Park just outside of Woodward, OK and the states panhandle. We learn how to pitch up our tent in the dark and are harassed by a Raccoon. Somewhere on the way my stun gun got stuck in the on position and depleted itself, presumably shocking my pillow and three bottles of Ensure for hours. The raccoon suffered no punishment for his rude behavior. Man how I would have loved to taze him.