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Discussion in 'Ride Reports - Epic Rides' started by Hondarider, Jul 17, 2013.
And you didn't stop to take a photo?
Those moments are so few and far between, I never ruin them by taking a picture. I'd rather remember that moment in my mind's eye. The picture never does the moment justice anyway. Good on you for finding and enjoying the moment.
That's a joke son. /Foghorn Leghorn
I specifically remember wishing that I could capture that perfect moment, but then the mere notion of trying to catch it...pulling over to get out the camera...knowing that film could never do it justice...wishing there was a way to capture the smells...the sensation of motion...straining against the force of the wind...the sound of the engine...the warmth of the sun...the comradery of a friend tracking just off to your left...even the taste of the air...
...and then its gone.
You can't capture it for posterity. All you can do is enjoy it, commit it to memory, and then head off in search of the next one. I suppose that's what keeps people riding despite the risks, the weather, and the angry girlfriends.
I know you've already been docked a mark for not having your list in alphabetical order (an almost unforgivable oversight to any self respecting AR) but.......surely, SURELY you should have each item weighed and noted so as to ensure a perfect weight balance
I've never actually gone as far as balancing my panniers. I figure the bike weighs something like 600+lbs, I weigh 200+lbs, and the clothes on my back and the load I carry on the passenger seat/tail rack (centered load) is about 40 lbs for a grand total of nearly 850 lbs balanced bilaterally. Assume for a moment that my left pannier has 20 lbs of junk in it, my right pannier has 10lbs of gear inside, and the weight of the panniers is 12" from the centerline of the bike. My quick napkin math leads me to believe that my CG will be shifted about .125" to one side. Factor in a road with a slight crown in the center for water dissipation and I might be spot on. Of course, I'd need a mechanical engineer (Mike) to check my numbers, but I don't think I care if my panniers are anywhere close to balanced. I know a 12 pack of Corona in the right box and a completely empty left didn't throw off my balance in any meaningful way so there's that...
Of course...now that you've posed the concern...I can't help but wonder where I can score a digital postage scale for my garage...my bathroom scale doesn't have sufficient accuracy to make it a worthwhile exercise and my curiosity is piqued.
I tend to balance my panniers as well, this last trip, with no real effort; they both weighed exactly the same, to the tenth, first shot!!
Great report by the way!!!<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" /><o></o>
As soon as I posted my query on weights, I instantly regretted it and I must apologise. The whole idea of this trip was for you to become a more relaxed human (at Mikes expense of course) and here I am offering more ways to stop that. Forgive me.
This has been a great RR and I have bought a Bill Bryson book for my upcoming trip as a result. Thanks heaps.
Okay, if I get fired tomorrow for "wasting" (some people don't understand the importance of a good ride report) all afternoon at work reading this.... It will STILL be worth it!!!
You should come back to Colorado, I'll guide to around Ouray, Telluride, etc!! Please keep writing the reports, you have "skills"!!
Sent from my iPhone using the "hunt & peck" typing method...
I think my next trip to Colorado will be in my truck with a much more dirt-oriented bike in the back. I'd like to spend a week eating dirt in the mountains around Ouray with nothing more than knobbies and a backpack.
And I will tell you...it is one the best descriptions I have read in my pitiful reading carrier....not to tell that this is one of the best ride reports I have read here....you make few more of these and you are right there between Metaljockey and iDave....
Thanks! I appreciate the feedback. Now I really should finish this thing.
Just kidding buddy... Looking forward to updates.
Maybe he was run over by a car driven by a girl friend of a certain friend from the office...
I enjoyed reading your great Ride Report!!!
I slept the sleep of the dead...snoring and drooling with gusto and a childlike lack of self-consciousness...caring nothing for my appearance or whether or not I was keeping Mike awake. He was smoked too...an airhorn wouldn't have kept him awake. Days on the road and long miles were taking their toll and we were out cold before the last piece of pizza - at least we'd have leftovers for breakfast. Early in the trip, I was concerned about cohabitation with a work friend...the snoring...the farting...shower schedules...disparate approaches to general hygiene...an entirely new dynamic to the relationship. My wife only barely tolerates me...I had no idea how this would play out.
I thought back to the Army and sharing space with 60 guys in my platoon...60 strangers with VERY diverse backgrounds...guys who had never owned a toothbrush (I swear that's true)...guys who would not change or shower in front of others so they went without showering for a week straight until the smell became unbearable...guys who screamed in their sleep...snorers...sleepwalkers...all night cigarette hackers...chronic ma$turbators...perverts...slobs...creeps...psychopaths. It was a real eye opener for an 18 year old kid with a somewhat sheltered upbringing.
It was fortunate that Mike was none of these...at least not enough to be of concern. We settled into a routine straight away without much discussion of the topic and I stopped worrying about it after a few days on the road. One should not underestimate just how much of a gamble this is. The wrong travel companion can ruin a trip. Just the other day I heard Chris Rock sum up a similar sentiment in Jerry Seinfeld's YouTube series called "Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee" (I highly recommend this show if you appreciate interesting cars and a candid look at some famous comedians)
Anyhow, I'm paraphrasing, but the jist is this...
You can be eating the best steak on the planet in the finest restaurant, but if you're eating across the table from a d-bag, you're going to have a bad meal.
However, if you're sitting with someone who you actually enjoy, a hot dog from a street vendor could end up being one of your favorite meals ever.
We woke with the sun and the birds and the mass exodus of our fellow travelers. As per usual, we set about preparations for another long day on the road. I chowed down some cold pizza while MIke went off in search of coffee. I hate that stuff...I prefer to start each day as God intended...with 20 oz of sweet, delicious, bubbly Mountain Dew...nectar of the gods. THe motel was in my favorite configuration...single story with individual room entrances and the bikes parked 8 feet from the door. I like this arrangement for the proximity to my bike. Unpacking the bike usually takes me about 8 trips by the time I've collected up all of my electronics, the contents of the panniers, and the items strapped to the racks; then I cover it. Packing seems to take just as many trips and a lot more care. Then there's the sense of security in knowing that I can check on the bike throughout the night. Sometimes, I'll just leave the front window curtains open once I turn the lights out at night. That way folks can't tell if I'm looking out at them from the dark as they consider shenanigans. The 5th floor of the Hampton Inn is not conducive to any of these things, but sometimes 4 fluffy pillows and a down comforter is worth the extra effort of 8 trips up and down the elevator and the risk of waking up to a stolen bike.
We were packed up in short order and rolling through Murdo.
I regret not taking a few hours to poke around the Murdo area. The Pioneer Auto Show boasts 275 cars, 60 motorcycles, 60 tractors, old buildings, toys, juke boxes, and a vast collection of other automotive Americana spread out across a dozen or more buildings. These are things that generally turn me on, but my homing instinct was fighting its way to the surface of my psyche and it was almost too powerful to resist. We gassed up and hit the highway heading east.
Without exception, I always regret the things I skip while rushing home. I make a concerted effort to stop and smell the roses, knowing full well that once I arrive at home I'll wish I had spent longer on the road, but I just can't control it. I work at it on every trip and vow to do better the next time, but here's another example of missing something potentially cool just to rush home and mow my lawn. Someday I'm going to take an extended trip and arrive home no sooner than 15 minutes before work on Monday...disheveled...bloodshot...sore...stinky. Then I'll know that I got the absolute most out of the trip.