WA to OK and back: Chasing a girl

This is insane. That was the first thought that crossed my mind when the idea of this trip popped up in my pea brain. Riding a motorcycle to Oklahoma and back just to see a girl I had started dating a few months ago was just plain crazy. But she wasn't just a girl, she was a woman, and we were both 29 and well traveled, semi-seasoned adults, and we fit together incredibly well. It was almost unfair, it was supposed to be a summer fling. But I wanted to go, and she wanted me to go, and that was that.

Dawww
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Well, I'm about to turn 30 and I've never done anything this crazy before so I might as well get it out of the way. Let's ride halfway across the country for a girl.

On a DR650...

Vancouver Island earlier this year
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Told you it was crazy.

After the decision was made I had about 12 days to get ready. The bike needed some work but that wouldn't be a problem with that much time.

Then my supervisor calls me at 7 in the morning. "Hey, Lisa can't do the fire tower, can you go down to Grangeville?"

Shit. "Yes."

So now I had 3 days to get the bike ready as I would be going to Grangeville, ID for a week to work the temporary control tower set up there. These towers go up every summer to help out at airports where the US Forestry Service is operating their air attack operations. The operations cause an influx of air traffic so we come in and sort things out in the mean time.

The night before I left I packed up my things and then went out to the garage and did a late night valve check. I hoped I wouldn't regret that later.

My office
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Tanker Landing by Staring Skyward Photography
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HeliTanker 795 by Staring Skyward Photography
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All I need is a radio and a pair of binoculars. Sometimes luck helps too.

Unfortunately the rain did most of our work for us so I ended up not having much to do in Grangeville. I drove back up to Spokane after my duty period ended and got right back to work on the bike. I also gave the girl one more call just to make sure she was 100% sure she wanted me to come down. I'd hate to get there and for things to be awkward. All the worries for naught as she absolutely wanted me there and her only concern was my safety.

Bah, safety! I told her there was nothing to fear and tried not to think about cold mountain passes or 100 degree deserts or every other driver in America or the fact that I did my own valve check.

It is supposed to tap like that right?

I'm in.

The day arrived, and, as usual, I was rushing around packing shit up because I told myself the night before on my third beer that there wasn't that much left to pack anyway, just do it in the morning. It didn't help either that I decided to repack and reorganize everything at the last minute. All the while cursing my shitty saddlebags and wishing I had sprung for racks and soft panniers.

But eventually all the crap I didn't forget did fit and was on the bike and my two weeks off was about to begin.

About those two weeks. Originally this was 2 weeks for riding a motorcycle across Japan. Until I decided that wasn't going to be as fun as it sounded. Then it was riding trains across Japan (still good, trains are cool). Until I decided to buy a house. Then it was two weeks of working on my new house. Until I met a girl...you get the rest I'm sure.


I even left myself a spot!

Okay! Bike loaded! Send a picture to the girl, say something badass. Post a picture on Facebook, say something badass. Get on the bike and ride off, feeling like a badass. Get about a mile down the road and realize the GPS maps didn't load right from the computer.

Turn around and go home. Hope nobody sees you. Put the damn maps on the stupid GPS. Ride off like a slightly deflated badass.

I ride toward the south end of Lake Couer D'Alene and enjoy the veiw of the mountains there, before jumping on Hwy 95 to start my journey south. My plan is to track south and then east so I can see some new places rather than just going in a straight line to OK.

Although not a new place to me, I haven't been to Lewiston on the moto yet, thus I haven't ridden the Old Spiral Highway. I mosey down, taking my time on the laden DR, since its the first day I'm still feeling things out. But the highway is a fun distraction from the slog of crossing Idaho, and lifts me out of the day one depression for a bit.


Click on it for a bigger version.

Day one depression? Whats that? That's what I call the uncertain feelings I always get on the first day of a moto road trip. That first day you can still remember the comfort of your bed, the warmth of your home. You knew what your ass felt like before it was a puddle of pain and numbness. By day two these are generally forgotten and its replaced with an eagerness to just get on the bike and ride the shit out of.

My first fuel stop is a rather familiar place. I'm right back in Grangeville, which I had left about 2 days ago. I stop at the gas station near the airport and grab a bite since I happen to know the food here is decent.



Full of patty melt and tator tots I get back on the road. My mood is cloudy again, maybe its the end of the trip I'm more concerned with. I told myself I had to be prepared to say goodbye forever when I left OK. I figured all this really was was an extension of summer, a last stand against the inevitable. I continued down this line of thought as I crested the hills south of Grangeville and came upon this sight:



I pulled over and just stared, my moody thoughts gone to the wind. Back on the road I descended and descended until a sign finally gave away my locale: Hell's Canyon Recreation Area. I had no idea the route I planed came through here. Cue miles and miles of gorgeous riding, and no stops for pictures so have some stills off the GoPro.


Momma always said I was bound for Hell...



Out of Hell's Canyon I headed for McCall just to change things up I suppose. The temps dropped again out of the canyon and I started what would become a several day game of Avoid the Rain. I stopped in McCall just long enough to enjoy the view and let some blood back into my butt.



As I made my way south toward Boise I started worrying about time. My late start on the day put me further behind then I expected. My plan was to camp at a state park south of Mountain Home but I'm not sure if I'll beat the sun. I've got a tinted visor on but for this trip I brought clear lens goggles in case I get caught out at night.

By the time I reach Boise I really am racing the sun and I jump on the interstate to Mountain Home. I'm immediately unhappy. Open desert/plains, and a speed limit higher than what I want the bike at. I cruise at 70mph while everyone else passes me like I'm that crazy guy who rides his electric scooter to Walmart.

By the time I reach the access road to the state park, the sun is down and I'm at the back edge of a rain storm that is between me and the park. Imagining what sort of muddy mess the campground is, I turn back and head toward the KOA in Mountain Home.

I do not recommend the KOA in Mountain Home by any margin. Do not stay there. Unless trailer parks are your thing. And idiots revving their diesel pickups all night. Then by all means, this is your place.

On the way I get caught in rain and quickly realize that, though the goggles work well at night, riding in the rain is a bit prohibitive thanks to the rather sharp stinging sensation. A bit like someone shoving needles in your face.

470 miles down, 1530 to go.

I'm in.

Looks like you will be close, you should come on in to Tulsa on a Tuesday for a beer!

http://advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=465380

Thanks for the offer, but unfortunately this journey is already finished. I really don't have the means yet of editing and uploading this stuff from the road so it just waits till I'm home.

More to come later tonight.

In

I'm in. You rode through my neck of the woods. The ride down Hwy 55 from McCall to Boise is beautiful.

Indeed it is.

This is actually the best reason I know of for a crazy ride! I'm looking forward to the rest of your report.

In.

Only with the comment: I might would've taken a much bigger bike and knocked out a Butt-Burner 1500 on the way there - given what was at the destination and your 2wk time allowance..

Not often we get a love story on this site...... looking forward to how it ends or begins. .

really? that is all you need! I did something like it for a picture, for a woman, I have no idea what I would do...

keep it coming amigo!!!

Damasovi

Had I a larger bike I would have but for now its just the DR. Next year I'm hoping that a mid weight adventure bike will be entering my life.

i'm doing the opposite and riding away from a woman. looks like a good trip, man.

The promised "coffee guy" at the KOA campground doesn't show his face in the morning and I'm already packed up and ready to hit the road. This place blows and I'd rather not associate with it any longer. Today's goal is to visit Bonneville Speedway and see the salt flats for the first time.

I get a text from the girl. She's been last minute invited to a wedding in Minnesota and is inviting me as a date if I want to go. Its after my trip. What does that mean? I try to think about it but realize its pointless for now. There's going to be a long discussion at some point when I get to OK and I don't want to focus on it now. Now is all about the ride.

I'm back on the interstate and miserable but happy to be moving. After an hour of being electric scooter dude and getting beat up by the wind I find my highway just outside of Twin Falls.

On highways: I generally just look at the map and pick one. Either state highways are just naturally great roads or I manage to always pick good ones. The random one I picked for today happens to be a scenic byway, and it works out well for me.

The morning cold wears off and I stop at an overlook over the Snake River to change up my layers.


That's a purty sight, I don't care who ya are.

I continue on and eventually pick up my next road which takes me south into Nevada. Ahead I see a rain storm which looms larger by the mile. Eventually I stop at what appears to be the last town before I hit the storm. I use the gas station to put on my water proof liners and take my time before getting back on the road. Turns out I spent enough time putting my waterproofs on that the storm has now passed the road and I only get a few sprinkles. I'm not sure if I should be upset or happy.

Now I'm in the desert, I think. There seems to be a helluva lot of rain out here for a desert. The miles go by and the road straightens out and I'm somewhat shocked at all the...nothing. So much nothing I can't believe it.

After an hour or so I start humming to myself. Then I start singing to myself, making up the words as I go along. Wonderful lyrics like, "God damn fucking straight road" and "I hate RVs so much lets count the ways". Then I get bored of that and start a running monologue. By the time I get to Wendover I'm nearly hoarse and a little crazier.

I grab lunch at Burger King even though I really don't like fast food. But I know they have outlets and I don't see many other choices. As I eat the food and charge my phone I watch a woman in a mini van pull out of the parking lot. She's talking on her cell phone. I'm thinking to myself, "There goes exactly the sort of person who will get me killed out here." Just as I finish the thought she gets T-boned as she pulls out of the lot. I chuckled.

Now off to Bonneville! Its a short trip from Wendover and soon I'm following the road out to the speedway. All around the ground is flat with mountains interrupting the horizon. Even on the paved roadway the mirages make distance seem imperceptible. I finally reach the end of the road and...


Salt water at this point isn't it?



What's all this wet stuff? Water?! The hell? I watch a car come back from the racetrack, bouncing through the air, splashing mud and water. I see the ruts from others who have recently tried to drive onto the salt only to break through the crust and find the mud beneath.



Now, I don't know much about salt flats but this didn't look good to me. Images of my luggage laden bike sinking in and becoming fast stuck raced through my brain. Too late in the season I suppose. I look around, take some pictures, and get back on the bike. Next time.

Well at the very least, now I was ahead of schedule and I decided to make the most of it. I find a good looking state campground passed Provo and tell the GPS to take me there. I set out across the flats....and on...and on. Holy shit it just keeps going. The sun reflects off the salt and right into my eyes. Even with the tinted shield I'm squinting and its definitely putting me into nap mode. After a sleepy eternity I finally make it off the salt flats.

I'm getting tired and all the desert/salt flat riding hasn't made it easier. I didn't check the GPS routing before I left, I assumed it took the route I wanted, a highway down toward Provo. Instead I find myself staring at downtown Salt Lake City and its rush hour interstate. That little shit. I proceed to cuss out the GPS for several miles and maneuver my way into the HOV lane. Its not moving much faster but at least its better protection against lane changers.

I make it through rush hour and stop for gas in Provo. I stock up on some food while I'm there before heading back into the mountains. The sun is just starting to set and I should beat sunset by a couple of hours. In the mountains I find the construction zone from Hell. Two pace trucks lead a long line of cars and we crawl along at only a few miles per hour. We're going so slow I can't just idle in 1st and the valley we're in is still pretty warm from the day. I can feel the motor getting hotter and hotter and I'm getting tired of working the clutch. Finally the pace trucks give way and we're free again.

I wind through the mountains and find the lake I'm camping on. As I pull into a spot I'm almost immediately beset on by the campground host. I forgot his name but this Texan seemed to be real lonely. I was the only camper there and he kept coming over in his golf cart to pass along pieces of information. Things like the weather or the fees, just one at a time, every 10 minutes or so. I kind of understood he was just looking for some social time but I was exhausted so I'm not sure I was of much help with my polite but short replies. My tent only sleeps one anyhow.


The campground after I take my boots off.

Of course nothing good lasts forever, and soon a family showed up and took the spot right next to mine, screaming kids and all. To be fair they had reserved it so its not as if they were being rude. And when I did turn in for the night they quieted their little screaming brats down.

I walked down through the mosquitoes to grab one last picture of the day. I let out a heavy sigh and contemplated life for a bit. You sure think about a lot on a motorcycle through the day but none of it seems to stick. Then after a long day you get off the bike and you're just too tired to really work things out. Its not till you're lying in the sleeping bag getting ready to pass out that everything comes around, and then its almost too late as your weary mind slips off into sweet slumber.



450 miles, 920 total, 1080 to go.

Picture with the lady is at Arbor Crest? Definitely following this ride.

Yeah, Arbor Crest, during a summer concert. That was a great night.

I wake up to the cold morning that Tex predicted for me the night before. The family next door is sound asleep so I try to be quiet. First things first, coffee. Get out my JetBoil, get out my coffee, get out my fuel can...where's my fuel can?

Sonuva...

Coffeeless, I begin my cold morning a bit grumpy. But I have a thought, and its been brewing in my mind. I made it farther yesterday than I expected so I'm starting to wonder just what's possible over the next few days in terms of mileage.

I pack up camp and clean the chain on the bike. I'm moving a bit slow, I want the sun to clear the mountains behind me so I don't have to be so bloody cold when I get on the road. I put in my route to Glenwood Springs in the GPS, don my cold weather gear, and head out.

Today's first goal is to reach Colorado. I head out of the Wasatch area, gorgeous green mountains all around me, and before long the sun is a lot higher and I'm down in what looks like a great void between two states. To my left are tall mountains that I choose to think are Colorado, to my right are jagged angled peaks of Utah. I continue south for an eternity on this road in no man's land, with nothing but sage brush and semi's to occupy me.

I finally reach Green River and from there join yet another interstate, I70. This one isn't so bad. In fact, among interstates, I70 is one of my favorites. And this one takes me right into Colorado.

In Grand Junction I stop for a rest and a very quick 85 miles later I'm in Glenwood Springs getting fuel. I was supposed to stop here for the day but the sun is still high in the sky. I surge on toward Aspen.

I thought the highway to Aspen was going to be a twisty fun mountain road. Instead its 4 lanes of suburban crawl. I feel like I'm in a city minus the buildings. And the outside HOV lane is just plain confusing. Aspen itself is packed with all the sorts of people I don't particularly like, and I'm an outdoorsman. The lineup at the airport speaks volumes, row after row of private business jets and not an airliner for the common man to be seen. The town makes my skin crawl and I'm glad to be through it and into the heights above, tracking CO 82 up toward Independence Pass.



This is what I'm talking about! I'm off and running, I manage to keep a clear lane for a while but all too soon I'm stuck behind the motoring tourists. Snapping pictures from their cars and doing 10 under, the ruination of good motorcycling. Eventually I find a good pullout and ditch the parade for some lunch at 11,000 ft.



With a belly full of jerky and trail mix I hop back on when I find a clearing in the traffic and I go enjoy myself on my way to the pass. I park up at the top and start walking to the viewpoint. I get about halfway in my gear and realize I'm already out of breath. I guess I'm high in Colorado! yuck yuck




Gasp, gasp, pant, pant

12,000 ft is fun and all but I need to think straight to ride so I decide to move on and get some oxygen back in me. A couple deep breaths and I'm back on and riding down the other side the divide. Along the way I find lakes and canyon and eventually, Buena Vista. Here I stop for gas and start to make some decisions. I look at my map, I look at the time, I consider my fuel range, and then I do some maths. This takes a bit. But finally I decide to go for Colorado Springs tonight, and then make the dash to Stillwater OK tomorrow. This cuts a whole day out of my trip, but I can't stand it any more. Once I'm out of the mountains all I'll care about is getting to Stillwater as fast as possible.

Lets do this! Back on the bike. Cross the San Isabel National Forest. Fight the winds across the plains. Climb into the rain in the Pike National Forest. The clouds blot out the sun so much that its starting to look like night through my tinted shield. The rain is cold down to the bone. But it clears up and soon I'm in Woodland Park, then Pike's Peak, then Manitou Springs. Finally I'm rolling into Colorado Springs. I pull into the first motel I see.

I've still got some sunlight so after I settle in I find the Colorado Mountain Brewery down the road and go gorge myself on bison meatloaf and a couple beers. I wander back to the hotel, set my alarm for 30 mins before sunrise, and try to sleep. I don't know if I'm just excited or worried about the bike but the sleep is fitful.

505 miles, 1424 total, 575 to go

Very true, definitely took the right kind of girl to inspire me though. I've never met anyone before that would have made me even consider doing this.

Its crazy what a woman can do to a man. But honestly I'm not the type to go running after a woman. So thats why I think its a bit crazy.

I would have walked if I had to

Sorry to hear that. I've done that before, well, taken trips to clear the head anyway.

Stay tuned...