Dear Diary...

Discussion in 'Ride Reports - Epic Rides' started by HickOnACrick, Sep 13, 2021.

  1. HickOnACrick

    HickOnACrick Groovinator Super Supporter

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    Dear Diary,
    He came into the garage months ago, looked me over lasciviously, poked and prodded every region of my being, pulled things out, put things in, and bought me new shoes. At times soft and gentle, other times primal in his ministrations, he fawned over me, listened to me, heard my joys and complaints.

    Two days of undivided attention, oh bliss and glory! WE are going to spend quality time together (finally). WE are going to picnic aside rivers, sleep under the stars, and communicate tirelessly for days.

    And then, as if we hadn't just reconnected on a near cellular level, he walked out, flicking off the lights with no more import than punching a time card. At first, I couldn't sleep, so excited was I that tomorrow we would ride. Alas, days surrendered to nights, the spiders drawing their exquisite webs from my once clean surfaces, dust fell and accumulated through days choking with dripping heat and nights sleepless with depression, there I sat, in that damned garage...alone.

    Some weeks later, the door opened and in he walked as if nothing had happened. Oh, I was steaming mad, but before I could utter a word, he walked right over to the other, and started doing to HER what he had previously only done to ME. Lubing and tightening, fiddling and fixing, stopping only to step back and think of how he could attend to HER more. I hate that 1290. Oh, how I glared at him those days.

    Adding insult to injury, he started packing gear...onto HER!
    What
    The
    Duck??

    I cried myself to sleep that night, not even caring about the spiders. At least THEY touch me. At least THEY think me worthy of decorating with their spindly art. How could he?

    I wonder if the bitch knows those panniers make her ass look fat?



    Dear Diary,

    Well, apparently I did not clear my vacation with Henri. This is the third time a Hurricane has thwarted my plans for a ride. I am just not into two weeks of rain, mud, washed out bridges, and waterlogged boots. I talked to the better half tonight and she suggested I go to Utah or Colorado, rather than the northeast. At first I balked at the idea of riding across Kansas and Missouri...again. But then I decided to take the 5-hundy. I need to get her ready. I did the yearly maintenance a couple months ago, still need to toss that worthless Tubliss system for some real tubes, but other than that, the 5-hundy is good to go. Outside of the bike, all I really need to do is throw on the tent and load up the trailer. Speaking of the trailer, I think I should check the tires - they are now about 7 years old, not much mileage on them, but they just kinda sit there in the sun all day. Ah, never mind, I have a spare.


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    Dear Diary,

    So, I don't know what sort of mind games he is playing, but the other day, in a rush, he comes into the garage like a manic meth head looking for his pipe. He's moving things around, searching for items, scratching his head in wonder; the fat Austrian BITCH got moved back to the bench, and I am wheeled over to the batter's box, so to speak. I'm the SKINNY Austrian bitch in the batter's box!

    Unceremoniously, I am lifted onto the moto stand and he is paying attention to ME! I feel like a bride in a gown atop a dais, with my humble tailor performing his sartorial duties. A column of light peeks through the window and settles upon me and all my glory.

    But then, he wheels that yellow Bavarian Cow into the trailer (not the fat Austrian bitch - but the Bavarian cow.) Just as I am about to fall off the moto stand in a fit of hysteria, he comes back in and wheels ME into the trailer as well. I don't know what kind of media he is watching, but I WILL NOT be party to a menage a trois with that fetid cow.

    Soon we are moving down the road and the Fraulein and I have a chance at idle conversation while bouncing along inside the trailer. I really should not have called her a cow. She is just getting on in years and wants to spend her golden years closer to family in Utah.


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    Dear Diary,

    Made it to Utah, unloaded the GS into Grandpa's garage. It's covered up and the battery tender is trickling. Now my lovely wife and I have a bike in Utah for fly-n-rides.

    The ride to Utah was terrible, the Tacoma is not a long-range tow vehicle. Every bump in the road was experienced twice. Speaking of twice, I blew a tire on the trailer...twice. One on each side. Once in Kansas, and then again near Denver. Fortunately there was a Big-O close to the second blowout as I had already used my spare. I really should have replaced those tires before the trip.

    Had breakfast with mom and dad, now I am going to ride to Baggs and pick up the COBDR.

    Oh, there was a hot air ballon festival going on this morning as I left. Made things interesting.
    #1
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  2. HickOnACrick

    HickOnACrick Groovinator Super Supporter

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    Dear Diary,

    I just trailered a motorcycle across the United States, then spent a Sunday morning riding so slow I was being passed by RVs - maybe it's time to just admit it and buy a Harley.

    Anyway, about 2 hrs into the slab, I stopped for gas in Craig, CO. I had a choice to make, either a lot more slab to Baggs for more gas, or a short slab to Steamboat and pick up the COBDR there. The 5-hundy is a lot of things, but a slab warrior is not one of them. I reasoned that I had already ridden that section before, so I could just pointed the bike toward Steamboat.


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    I stopped for a granola bar.


    Dear Diary,

    I hate it when he does that to me; puts me on a hot stinking highway for hours. I was just about to complain when I saw my favorite road sign - pavement ends. I relaxed a bit and let my hair down. We talked for a long time as we rode along, then he stopped for a picnic in the most beautiful copse of Aspens. I really feel like we are communicating today, like the way we used to. Just hours together alone with nothing but the conversation between us.

    But I am still angry - he has treated me wretchedly this summer. "I could spend more time with you if it wasn't for work," he says. Excuses. I mean I am not asking for a kidney or anything like that - just a little attention now and then.

    Oh, and guess what else? While at our picnic he mentioned that we skipped a section of the COBDR because he "had been there, done that." What about ME? I haven't 'been there done that'. In fact, I am pretty sure he was being there doing that with a fat Austrian bitch.

    "Relax, skinny legs," I tell myself. Live for the moment. But God Damnit I have 256 Instagram followers in whom I wish to provoke tides of jealousy as they peruse my photos. It's so frustrating, he hardly took any pictures of me!

    Dear Diary,

    I stopped to eat in Gypsum, CO. Asian fusion used to incorporated different Asian cuisines into a single dish. Mow, I guess it applies to any restaurant that serves both sushi and pad thai. Anyway, stopped for a late lunch, then found a place to camp. Didn't take too many photos today, I was kinda in a groove just enjoying the 5-hundy.

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    #2
  3. joenuclear

    joenuclear Still here....

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    N!:lurk
    #3
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  4. RedDogAlberta

    RedDogAlberta High Plains Drifter

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    Love it. Great shots and nice set up.
    #4
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  5. Sparrowhawk

    Sparrowhawk Long timer Supporter

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    Chill Skinny Legs. The Bavarian is not offended by being called a cow. Gummikuh a long standing term of endearment for the breed. And don't worry about missing a bunch of farm to market roads. You'll have your fun later on when you get to all the water crossings and the west side of Ophir Pass.
    #5
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  6. Sparrowhawk

    Sparrowhawk Long timer Supporter

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    Hick, how are you managing with the cold nights? That was something that caught me a little off guard in Colorado after the heat of Idaho. Picking camp sites ended up having a lot to do with elevation. There's a nice outdoor store in Buena Vista if you need more insulation.
    #6
  7. HickOnACrick

    HickOnACrick Groovinator Super Supporter

    Joined:
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    Dear Diary,

    Oh My God! It was freezing last night. At times he is the most thoughtful person in the world – he draped his clothes all over me to help me stay warm before he went to sleep. Now he is just sitting there with a cup of coffee looking at me and writing in his diary. He probably regrets not taking more pictures of me yesterday, and just wants to get an eyeful of fabulous. I wonder what he is writing?

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    Dear Diary,

    Good riding yesterday. Once I got about an hour out of Steamboat, it got more interesting. Couple of places that would have been very tricky after a soaking rain, but I would have felt comfortable on one of the 1290 or GS. I hope I didn’t make a mistake by cutting out the section from Baggs because most of today was pretty sweet. I rode south from Gypum for about an hour before finding a spot to wild camp, still had at least an hour of sun after setting camp.


    Cold night. Trying to warm my hands with a cup of coffee as I write this. I am somewhat in dread of getting dressed. All that gear hanging from my bike has a patina of frost. After I got my wings clipped, the urologist told me to put a frozen bag of peas down my shorts to reduce the swelling. I bet this morning there will be very little swelling.

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    #7
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  8. HickOnACrick

    HickOnACrick Groovinator Super Supporter

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    I use a 20-degree underquilt. I have already returned from the trip, but there was only one night where I felt chilled at all, and that was the first night; I had to add my thermal base layer in the middle of the night and use the ass-pad for a cold spot on my shoulder. The cold camp above was on a North-facing slope at about 9K feet with a breeze from the West all night, and a creek within spitting distance. The rest of the trip I avoided North-face camps and was fine at higher altitudes.

    Mrs. Hick and I did a fly and camp through ID, WY, UT and NV a few weeks ago. Only had one cold night near Island Park, ID. This was the camp:

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    And this is a look at the setup under the fly.

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    #8
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  9. HickOnACrick

    HickOnACrick Groovinator Super Supporter

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    Dear Diary,

    He’s doing it again, just riding, riding, riding. So I reminded him to slow things down a bit. I’ll start with the clutch, but I have a few other aces up my sleeve if he doesn’t start taking more pictures of ME.



    Dear Diary,

    Stopped in Leadville for brunch, arriving before the restaurant opened. Took a table on the patio and I am sitting here enjoying the view. The riding between Gypsum and Leadville was pretty tame, the only real challenge being the cold and riding into to sun. Tricky shadows.


    I had a problem as I was approaching the top of Hagerman – I lost the clutch. I rolled to a lurching stop at the top, got off the bike and looked things over. I ended up increasing the throw of the lever and was able to continue forward, but it has me worried. Clutch plates? I have never checked them because I have never felt them slipping. Hydraulics? I can’t remember if I flushed the clutch months ago during the yearly maintenance. Regardless, it's Monday. Even if I could find a moto shop, they would be closed today.

    I parked the bike behind another skinny-legged Austrian. As I was waiting for a table, a 20-something woman came out of the restaurant and walked to her dirt bike. She said something to me like, "nice bike."

    I guess it's a combination of Covid and being solo in the helmet-bubble, but I seem to have lost all my social graces. The best I could respond was something like, "shum lotta grak." She looked at me like I was missing a chromosome, put her coffee cup in a cup holder on her dirt bike, and rode off. So I guess that is Leadville.


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    #9
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  10. HickOnACrick

    HickOnACrick Groovinator Super Supporter

    Joined:
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    Dear Diary,

    “Box, Box, Box!” I swear I heard the voice of Christian Horner in my helmet. As I approached the summit of Weston Pass, I lost the clutch again. Pull over, adjust the throw, let the bike cool a little. I had a short talk with myself. Hagerman and Weston pass are the easy parts of this ride, I am all alone and having clutch problems.

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    I considered bailing for about a minute, then decided to keep pressing on.

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    I stopped for a granola bar in an aspen tunnel, then came upon a gate, then the riding got really interesting. I felt like I was in the Ojai region of Baja. I happened upon this part of the trail after a grader had gone through. For the first time of the ride, I am really happy I have a smaller bike. As I got to the end of this section of trail, I encountered a couple liter bikes starting the trail in the opposite direction. We talked for a bit, they were not committed to this section, and I may have talked them out of it. Where the trail had been newly graded, the lines were now gone, and more than a few sand snakes lurked below the surface.

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    I was able to find a healthy dinner, then off into the NF for some wild camping. The clutch felt fine the remainder of the day, even when riding through the sand. Forces, pressures, altitudes...I may not be able to explain it by Pascal's Law, but it smells more and more like a hydraulic problem, not a plate issue, as it seems to be exacerbated at altitude.

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    Dear Diary,

    I just wanted more pictures of me.
    #10
  11. Cafeducati

    Cafeducati Stuffing my face with that 990 Steak

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    :lurk
    #11