The best panacea to losing a job

Discussion in 'Ride Reports - Epic Rides' started by Momster, Jun 2, 2017.

  1. Momster

    Momster Adventurer

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    I'm a little late posting here. I've been a lurker throughout my short ADV Rider career and so many of you folks are mighty inspiring (and just a bit intimidating to this newbie). This will be my daily journal (and I'm already 6 days in). My husband and I were both "re-orged" out of our corporate jobs recently. Frankly, my first reaction to getting my notice was "Yay! I get to ride this summer!" We took this as a giant karmic hint to pack up our bags and hit the road. Who knows if we'd ever get the opportunity for this much time off at the same time ever again? No particular destination and no schedules, but gotta have a goal, right? We are more or less doing the National Parks thing but only loosely. I'm new to posting here so will do my best about posting the correlating pics, but no guarantees I'll figure it out....
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  2. Valker

    Valker Long timer

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    In
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  3. black 8

    black 8 coddiwompling motographer

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    Great outlook and even better reason to ride! Be safe..
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  4. Momster

    Momster Adventurer

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    Day 1 - Leaving home. Marietta, GA to Cullman, AL

    Honestly, things are already getting a bit fuzzy so this will be a short post because I forgot to write any notes to myself. So I'll just say that we loaded up our camping gear, clothes, electronics, snacks.... my son once commented that our GS's are SUV's on two wheels. We stopped in Lake Guntersville, AL to visit an old high school pal who was camping there for the Memorial Day weekend. Always great to meet up with old friends and catch up. It was a short ride, which was a good thing, since it optimized gabbing time. The place was actually booked out so we pushed on to look for another site. Same deal. Our planning skills are a little rusty in terms of reserving camp sites, so first night's camping was essentially the Days Inn in Cullman. Oh well.
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  5. Momster

    Momster Adventurer

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    Day 2 - Cullman, AL to Tupelo, MS

    Waiting for the rain. Waiting. Waiting. Marc is checking the weather app continuously and there's a lot of it out there - green, dark green, angry reds and yellows. Rain. Not just rain; severe thunderstorms. Tornado warnings. All along the southern corridor. We saw the storm damage from the night before before deciding to stop in Cullman and the local Days Inn. Somehow camping didn't seem like a smart idea. I know some of our moto friends are hardier than we are and sat it out in their tents further north. More power to 'em. I admire, but don't envy. Nope. Not me.

    Finally, Marc made the call -- it looked as if we could thread the needle between two fronts and set out somewhere around 10am, going due west on Highway 278 through Bankhead National Forest heading for Tupelo, MS and the Natchez Trace Parkway. It was like A Day Without Cars. We had the road to ourselves for about 80% of the 182.5 mile ride today. Glorious. It's the time when you can truly be in the present moment, although I'll admit I simply blanked out on several occasions or had odd thoughts like "how many different species of pine ARE there??"

    Lunch was a stop at the Matchbox Grill in downtown Detroit, AL. "Downtown" is a relative term. But Marc's burger was good (albeit on white bread) and my fried catfish sandwich was delightfully well done, crispy cornmeal on the outside, tender and flaky on the inside. And you can't beat it at $4.00. IMG_1223.JPG IMG_1225.JPG IMG_1224.JPG

    Continuing on 278, we zipped by the town of Natural Bridge, AL, which had the distinction for being the least populated incorporated town in Alabama (until it lost out to McMullen, AL in 2010). It also has the largest natural bridge east of the Rockies (which claim is figured prominently at the park's entrance). A modest $3.50 fee and a very short walk gets you to see it.

    Followed 278 to the end at Hamilton and I think we went on 178 after that but to be honest, I didn't pay attention since I just follow Marc. Not having to navigate makes riding delightfully unburdensome for the follower, but probably not the followee ...

    More rain coming. Tonight's campground is the Baymont Inn & Suites in Tupelo. We'll go see Elvis' birthplace tomorrow and then Take the Natchez Trace down to... well, Natchez. The tent will have to stay packed up another day.
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  6. Momster

    Momster Adventurer

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    Day 3 - Karma: That's what you get for being too arrogant.

    And here we thought the gods were favoring us -- we managed to avoid the rains and worst of the weather. In fact, it's been pretty darned nice -- upper 70's to low 80's, overcast but bright and the worst of the storm damage was already pushed to the sides of the roads. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

    We're in Tupelo, MS, notable for being the birthplace of Elvis, as evidenced by everything Elvis, like Las Vegas, but more tasteful. Since neither of us are particular Elvis fans, it's an obligatory visit -- snap the picture then we're outta there to find the real ostensible goal for this trip: another stamp in the National Parks Passport book. We arrive at the Tupelo National Battle Monument and a nice Park Service ranger who arrives at the same time. He informs us we have to go back to the first Visitor Center to get our stamp and sheepishly says he was just there because he was a little late in getting the flag to half mast for today (Memorial Day). Oops. Not feeling like going back through town, a few photos will suffice to document our visit. Natchez Trace Parkway, here we come!

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    The NTP is truly a beautifully kept parkway – 244 miles from Tupelo to Natchez with no commercial traffic (unlike the Garden State "Parkway"...) and today everyone else was busy with their Memorial Day festivities, so it was another day with very little traffic and very often none at all. Just ourselves for long stretches of scenic forest and well manicured berms. If there is a complaint, it reminded me of the old phrase "if some is good, more must be better" ... not necessarily. The very gentle curves, solitude and old forest evergreens whirring by have a hypnotic effect and it's easy to zone out. Those odd musings have a way of projecting themselves into the forefront and …. Whoops! A young fox came dashing across the roadway right in front of Marc and I (unbelievably) grab handfuls of brake and clutch with a simultaneous foot stomping on the rear brake and * whew * manage to not be the second person to rear-end him in a calendar year. Thank you, MSF and BMW On Road training (and ABS)! It was a sudden reminder that we are never truly alone out there and I use the subsequent heart thumping to continually scan the sides for other wildlife intent on self-destruction while the thumping lasts. (For the record, I saw raptors, coyote, turkeys and a box turtle painfully making its way across.) But the gentle curves begin to lull us again.

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    Fast forward 80 miles down the NTP, and Marc and I are merrily whizzing our way along towards Natchez, passing those caged slow-pokes and feeling like kings of the road when the aforementioned Karma came a-calling in the form of a State Trooper SUV in the opposite lane doing a sudden 180 and zeroing in behind us. Sheisse. (That’s “Sh*t” in German for the unenlightened.) Clocked doing 74 in a 50 zone. Ugh, over 20 is never a good thing. Marc talks the officer into just issuing one ticket (“one of ya’s gonna get a ticket”) and takes the bullet.

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    Now we realize some of our Beemer buddies will likely go “pfft! Only 74?! Why, I could easily go 94…you’re a disgrace to the Roundel!” Well, ok, yes, but considering that we’re trying to stick to a budget (sort of), this will force me into one more night of tent camping that I wasn’t factoring in to mitigate the unexpected expense.
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  7. Momster

    Momster Adventurer

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    Day 4: Those gnats. Those f*cking gnats.

    Natchez, MS to Montecello, AR. Put a fair number of miles today but many of them were taken by going back and forth on State Highway 1 dodging pop-up thunderstorms. “Pop-up” sounds so cheerful – I get images of My Little Pony and bubble-gum bubbles. Or VH-1 (now I’m dating myself). Anyone traveling the Mississippi River basin knows that ain’t the case. My first thought was, “I didn’t know clouds could actually be BLACK!” Sobering sight. And the wind gusts; flying along the road at an angle. For a relative newbie like me, it’s a bit unnerving, but exhilarating as well.

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    I hear Marc outside the Super 8 (we’re in Montecello, AR now) talking to Dan, a master carpenter from Louisiana, talking about something that included the phrase “Hold my beer and watch this!” *add appropriate Southern accent * which reminds me of dinner along the riverfront last night. While sitting outside enjoying the sunset and river breeze, we watched in mild stupefaction a (presumably inebriated) young local climb on the hood of his friend’s SUV and said friend gunning the engine and taking off down the road with his buddy swaying on said hood. I didn’t strain my neck to see the outcome … we all know where that was going. (SMH) At what point in time does one decide that it’s a good idea to hop on the hood of a moving vehicle…? That’s kinda why I assume drunken foolery; it would be too concerning if alcohol weren’t involved.

    National parks visited today: Fort Rosalie and Melrose House in Natchez then on to Vicksburg National Military Park. The Civil War… the Siege of Vicksburg (Google it). We were astounded by the terrain alone, the hills, ditches and steep lies and bluffs. Imagining several thousand men camped out and laying siege to the City of Vicksburg. The hundreds of Union dead and wounded scattered on the landscape. Just looking at the cannons gave me a hernia to imagine Union soldiers hauling them in to place by sheer manual labor alone. One can’t help but be pensive about any war, even during a pleasure trip. The tour rode took us an hour. Excellent practice for slow-control riding, behind 4 wheeled vehicles that took their time to read every monument along the road (and there are a LOT of them).

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    Lunch was next on our agenda. They say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but we didn’t get to it this morning. And we won’t make that mistake again. In all fairness, we did try; our plan was to go across the Natchez-Vidalia Bridge and have breakfast in Louisiana, but it was soon plain that no cute little hip eatery was to be had, instead only offering the standard McD-Hardee-Sonic landscape. Pass. Marc’s nose led him to an excellent little café not far from the Military Park, The Market Place, but his eagerness to feed led him to park his bike along the street without checking the steep pitch of the roadway. Ever have those moments when life goes into instant slo-mo and you hear yourself think in that exaggerated “Ooooooohhhhhh, nnnnoooOOOoooo…..!” movie manner while you helplessly watch your partner’s expression go from “FOOD!” to “ooOOoooohhh, sssshhhhheeeiiiissseee” and see both tip over? What makes it a better movie scene is that I scoot by and park in the (level) parking lot just 15 feet further (and yes, then run to help him). No one’s hurt and the bike is properly christened with a slight ding in the pannier. Let’s go eat!

    Our next destination was the Poverty Point World Heritage site (https://www.nps.gov/popo/index.htm). And I really would have loved to see this but our luck about the rain ran out. Those angry black clouds and aforementioned pop ups stood squarely in the way. After Vicksburg, the landscape becomes remarkably flat and to what I thought of as the gateway to America’s Heartland. A fertile Mississippi River basin painted the landscape in spring greens with shoots and young plants just getting their start in life and deeper greens of shoulder-high corn. I was grateful for the flatness as it enabled us to see the town water towers 2-3 miles away which meant shelter from the storms. (Hearing Bob Dylan in my head) Maybe my citified/urbanized roots are showing; I’m used to seeing endless commercial buildings with overhangs and covered parking and being able to duck out of rain in a pinch. I find being under a wide open sky of boiling clouds and no structure in sight for miles rather unsettling.

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    Our first shelter is the Scott Fuel distribution depot and we park under the overhang until forced out by one of the distribution tankers coming to fill up. OK, no problem. We find an overhang at a church next (and should I feel more secure in God’s House?). I think we’re there for about ½ hour and the gnats make their movie entrance. Not too many, but enough to be annoying. Move on down the road apiece and another bank of rain makes us pull in to Edgemont, AR and its gas station/local eatery. Have a fun conversation with a guy pulling a tank transport with zillions of catfish fry in the hold. His regional accent is so thick, I have a lot of trouble understanding him but Marc’s 25 year residence in New Orleans stands him in good stead and he has no problem at all. And the gnats are gathering force as we speak. They get in your face, aiming for the eyes, mouth and nose. And they bite. I eventually take cover in the convenience store. When we take off, there are gnats in my helmet and it takes a mile and half to shake them loose by opening up the visor, then full face while going 60mph. Ugh.

    Next halt comes only a dozen miles later and we ask a local fix-it-all shop if we can take cover. No problem. Except the gnats. Now they become “those f*cking gnats” and the air is thick with them. Despite the growing discomfort of being in rain gear, I actually opt to keep my helmet on and shut until the heat is unbearable. But those f*cking gnats are almost worse. Why, yeah, the shop’s cataract-eyed mechanic says, they’s all pretty damn’d bad this yeahr –ain’t nuthin’ can do aboud it, jes keep in’th wind heps a bit. Worse I evuh see.

    Oh great.

    At this typing, I’m still finding (dead) gnats in my gear. Those f*cking gnats.
    #7
  8. Momster

    Momster Adventurer

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    Day 5 – (Monticello, AR to Hot Springs, AR) - I Am Not An Outdoors Girl

    Sun’s out and promises heat… and humidity. Two things I’m not good with. To people who ask me why in the nether hell I moved to Atlanta then from the cool reaches of the Northeast, it was a couple of things: Marc’s commuting from NY to Atlanta was getting old pretty fast and he promised to cook for me every night for the first six months. That clenched the deal (see the result of that promise below). Plus, the kids were grown and gone and the previous year’s near record snowfall gave me a new appreciation for warm and no snow winters. Actually, I never really minded the 17” bi-weekly snowfalls, but when it would fall. They always seemed to time themselves the day after Marc would leave for Atlanta.

    I’m getting better at repacking the bike every morning but still came to the disconcerting conclusion that I still packed too much. Marc still beats me at getting kickstand up. Need to find a post office and ship stuff back; I would have done it already but still have trouble letting go. The What ifs keep coming to mind. Some day I may be on an episode of “Hoarders.” But my fellow touring bikers keep egging me with “Where’s the kitchen sink?” So, yes, time to cull.

    Today’s National Parks: Arkansas Post National Monument and Hot Springs, Arkansas. The AR Post National Monument is in Gillette, AR and pretty damned remote. It’s not one of the biggies, but it has an interesting history as the first European settlement in the region and occupied by the French, the Spanish, the British, back to the French until Jefferson bought it as part of the Louisiana Purchase. Marc, being European, was interested. We hit the ARPO early in the day and was met with an adorably earnest and wide-eyed Park Service ranger. She’s a relatively young thing and seemed hyper actively excited that anyone walked in to her post. She had her stuff down pat and only stumbled and stuttered slightly in her excitement to share her knowledge and eagerly offered to play us a :20 film on the history of the Post. We didn’t have the heart to just get the stamp and take off, so we sat through it and were pleasantly surprised at how well done it was. The Post is situated along the Arkansas River. As we sat on the bench, it wasn’t hard to imagine being at this remote outpost in Quapaw territory. OK, so the river has changed its course since then and the damned Japanese hyacinths are choking all the waterways, but other than that, it was quiet – like really quiet save for the birds, the frogs and chipmunks. And the occasional farm equipment trundling by.

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    The roads are flat and straight again … so much so that a couple of actual curves almost took me by surprise. County Road 212 is built on top of the levee alongside the AR River and had some sharp curves, then… straight again. Gawd.

    Today’s musings along the straight stretches were more along the lines of “when can I stop and get ice / water/ bathroom?” Towns were getting further apart (if you can call them towns – they do, so I guess I will). And it was getting hot. It topped out at 89.5 F and I was quickly feeling the effects of dehydration. It’s easy to tell on me – my face gets beet red while the upper lip is stark white. Then the headache and light-headedness, neither help while riding. Note to self: get a camelback. I made it through last summer’s ride pretty well, even in the upper 90’s but I guess I wasn’t remembering how to prepare for it since things have been relatively cool recently.

    Finally ride into Hot Springs and holy cow! It’s like being every resort town in the USA, crowded with tourists, souvenir shops and bloody duck tour bus-boats.. Then I hit myself, d’oh! Why wouldn’t it be?! I can be an idiot. We were also apparently at the wrong Park Service office cuz it was closed. So we beat a hasty retreat out of downtown Hot Springs and look for the nearby KOA for camping.

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    OK, so KOA has decent properties, has all the amenities like flush toilets, showers, ICE (Chromeheads, you know whereof I speak) and omg… a Wifi router right at our tent corner! How awesome! But remember, I’m over-heated, dehydrated and really f*cking cranky by now. Last thing I want to do is help set up a tent and sleep on rocks. We are also surrounded by RVs. Not exactly being “in” Nature. I’m also really hungry (hangry is the accurate term). I’m a walking Snickers commercial (“You’re not you…”). The f*cking gnats are pissing me off and Marc is not helping by yelling set up instructions to me that I don’t understand. Very often he mistakes his intentions for actual words and thinks I really can read his mind. This is unfortunate. I give him one of those glowering looks and he quickly suggests I take advantage of a cool shower. Which I do…eventually. This may grow on me over time but this probably wasn’t one of my shining moments.

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    And here's Marc making dinner for me. *sigh*

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    #8
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  9. Momster

    Momster Adventurer

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    Day 6 – If You Don’t Have a Picture, It Never Happened

    Hot Springs, AR to Fort Smith, AR.

    Marc is awake at first light at camp. It takes me a little longer because I think I finally fell asleep sometime around 2am. All is dark in the campground, but that only seems to amplify the unfamiliar noises around. Like the guy snoring in the tent next to ours. Or the bad guitar playing a few RV’s over. I’m acutely aware of the gravel base underneath the ground cloth, air camp mattress and sleeping bag and thumped my leg a couple of times on the ground, hard, in that twilight about-to-sleep phase thus waking myself up again. But I finally learn to keep myself within the 1.5 foot width of the softer sleeping surface and eventually get some shut eye. I think that’s called impact training. I’m also jealous that Marc seems to be able to fall asleep, seemingly at will. He says it’s a guy thing. Since I’ve witnessed my son do something similar, I’m inclined to believe him.

    Breaking down camp went a lot faster than setting it up. Well, of course it was. There was two of us breaking it down whereas I was an ass the day before and let Marc set it up by himself. It’s amazing he still loves me. Kickstands were up and we were ready to find the National Park Service Office that would give us our Hot Springs stamp. The downtown Bath House Row is much quieter in the morning and pleasant to go up and down without the crowds and the heat. We still need to pay better attention to our timing because it’s still closed, this time being too early rather than too late. OK, good time to find coffee and breakfast. The Pancake House is a landmark in itself and I keep forgetting this is the Land of Huge Portions. I ordered a small ham steak with two eggs and one buckwheat pancake, while Marc had a sausage and cheese omelet. The resulting presentation nearly covers the table for four and is what I would consider more than adequate to feed a family of six – a small ham steak almost covers the entire (large) plate. I’m afraid to ask how large the “large” is. And when I think about the sausage and cheese omelets of my experience, it usually means crumbles of sausage and mostly cheese. I would swear there was better than a half-pound of sausage in this thing (no exaggeration). It was was excellent sausage (home-made and they say they can ship anywhere) but dang – we could have shared one and been more than satisfied.

    Breakfast over, and we’re still a few minutes early. The place to get the stamp is in the Lamar Bath House and their back wall is set up with one of those old fashioned apothecary cases… hundreds of tiny drawers. The buildings are stately and elegant and I wish I had more to say about them but we were itching to get on the road.

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    It’s only 99 miles to Fort Smith, AR and most of it goes through the Ouachita National Forest. Crystal Springs (as in the bottled water) is in … wait for it … Crystal Springs, AR and we passed by the bottling plant, which was surprisingly small (to me). Thick, thick forest and undergrowth makes me wonder how anyone ever got through in the old days. The other thing that struck me was the number of churches along the way – their roadside billboards are staked one after another: Lake Ouachita Baptist Church, Joplin Methodist Church, United Methodist, All Saints Catholic, Assembly of God, First Baptist Church, Mount Ida Seventh Day Adventist… there appear to be more churches than people to join them.

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    We find the Fort Smith National Historic site easily – Marc gets the stamp while I walk the grounds with their replica of the old frontier town. It’s a quick visit and we learn our Canadian Chromehead buddy, Gary, is not far off and on his way to the Fort Smith Harley Davidson dealer, so we head over to say hello. He’s traveling from Canada with three other friends, Tony, Jim and Bill – the infamous “Dirtbag Billy” as he is known by reputation within some circles. Jim and Bill ride Harleys and Bill, I’m told, has a thing for visiting Harley dealers wherever he rides. I’m also told he has visited most of them in North America which sounds kind of impressive when I think of the brand penetration and footprint on this continent. As a Beemer rider, and consequently a different biker culture, it holds no particular appeal to me, but hey, more power to him. I was a bit surprised that no one we know (save Gary) has ever met the guy, so I have affectionately dubbed him “Sasquatch.” We have a saying among our Chromehead group that if you don’t have a picture, it never happened. So I took pictures. And wouldn’t you know it, not one included Bill, or at least, none of the pictures were conclusively representative of Bill’s image. I can only allege that the guy in the grey Tshirt on the left of the photo is Bill, but he is turned away, so there is no hard evidence. And there you have it – the meeting never happened.

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    #9
  10. chudzikb

    chudzikb Long timer Supporter

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    Great detail and storytelling.
    #10
  11. juno

    juno Long timer

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    Good start to the story. You will find your travelling groove soon. It will help when you start shipping stuff home. I have found myself doing the same thing on trips. I get better every trip though. Camping gear takes up a lot of room, but as you pare down your load you will feel more comfortable travelling.
    #11
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  12. Momster

    Momster Adventurer

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    Day 8 – Water water everywhere.

    Ada, OK to Pampa, TX. 317 miles today, most of it in rain. Yes, the dodging finally failed and our own personal rain cloud seemed to follow us around today. Thankfully, we had no severe thunderstorms, hail or tornadoes –so what’s a little water? Absolutely nothing, with the right gear. My first misbegotten efforts at assembling riding gear at little expense yielded the kind of results one would expect. The ol’ “you get what you pay for” and the claim “waterproof” just turned out to be a marketing ploy. This morning’s conversation with myself was a prime example of a First World problem: do I wear the Gortex liner of my BMW Airshell (but everything will be wet on the outside), or do I put on my Olympia over-jacket rain gear (and just stew on the inside)? I opt for the Gortex liners. I look like Marc’s gay Asian boyfriend, but hey, I’ll be comfortable and DRY.

    We do the first 60 miles toward Washita Battlefied National Historic Site and the Black Kettle National Grassland in on and off rain, and the last 11 in sluicing downpours. The Park Rangers at Washita had an unreadable look on their faces as we walked in, that combination of ‘are you ****** joking?’ and dismay that we were tracking waterfalls along the floor. But dang it, we weren’t coming all this way into Oklahoma just to see the ranches – we want that stamp, dammit.

    Mission accomplished and we’re on the road West towards Texas. The nice thing about Oklahoma is that we can actually go 70 mph on many roads and we’re flying on Rte. 39 until it ends. It doesn’t actually end; it’s under construction or repaving or something, but it has all the appearance of the State or County running out of money and just taking the equipment and going home. There were barriers closing off access to 39, the leveled out dirt track beyond and nothing else. No parked earth moving equipment, no concrete barriers – just a big honking yellow and black wooden barrier stretched across the roadway and a (very) small ‘Detour’ sign pointing to the right to Star Road to CO1350. Well, ok, let’s go right. About 1,000 feet in, that paved roadway ends and it’s a dirt and gravel track (again with the Detour sign indicating, yes, come this way …. Bwahahaha!). Our first dirt of the trip! We negotiate the 5 miles of dirt road, smugly thinking to ourselves that dualies live for this and cruisers would be in for a world of pain. And indeed, later when we had rejoined the severed side of Rte. 39 and was at a rest stop, we witnessed 3 Harleys ride toward the detour road.. Five minutes later, we saw them rumble back the other way. And out here, it’s not just a matter of taking a turn at the next block to go around construction – your next block is about 12 miles away.

    We’ve entered the prairie and grasslands of OK and TX and there are miles of sage brush and oil wells. The roads are STRAIGHT. I’m getting sleepy again and my husband and I start playing a game of seeing to the horizon and estimating how many miles to it. How far to that top ridge? He guesses 1-2 miles. I say 3. It’s 3.2. How far to that X point? 6.4 miles. This keeps me awake thankfully.

    We also take breaks along the way. This is where I circle back to the gear thing. Well, it may be more than that, but since it’s the most visible part of the rider, I’ll start with that. During one stop at a gas station, one local man in overalls comes over and starts a conversation with Marc about his R1200GSA and the man tells us stories about his Dad’s R50 (or R69 or something), and then he inquires “What’s he riding?” pointing to my bike and looking at me, while speaking to Marc. OK, I get it… some folks have a hard time seeing a woman with a crew cut. Yeah, and I may not have had makeup on. But when Marc simply responds by saying, “My wife rides the 700gs” the man looks positively confused. So let this be my official dibs to the motorcycle gear manufacturers out there: would it really be so hard to design more feminine or chic gear beyond the “shrink it and pink it” stuff currently being produced? You don’t have any good designers you say? We’re not interested in haute couture you say? Wait a sec, you haven’t seen the stats on women's shopping behaviors?? You haven’t heard the women make up the fastest growing segment that buys motorcycles, farkles AND gear?? What rock have you been living under?? Basic Marketing 101 – study your target audience. Go crowd source and run a contest or something. Make a deal with a well-known fashion designer. (I would personally love it if we could get Jean-Paul Gaultier to do a collection.) This really isn’t rocket science at its most fundamental level.
    #12
  13. Valker

    Valker Long timer

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    I live in Pampa and am reading this 6 minutes after you posted! Welcome. If you need anything, let me know.
    #13
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  14. Momster

    Momster Adventurer

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    Thank you!
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  15. Valker

    Valker Long timer

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    I just PMed you my phone number if you need anything while here.
    #15
  16. Project Mayhem

    Project Mayhem Moto Aficionado Supporter

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    Location:
    Coal Creek Canyon, CO, USA
    If you're coming through Colorado, which I assume you will to hit Rocky Mountain National Park, let me know if we can provide assistance or just a place to stay for the night. We're about 1-1.5 hours ride from Estes Park and can point you to the more scenic/better riding route to RMNP. And my wife (@Mrs Mayhem) agrees with you about the dearth of 'well fitted/designed' gear for ladies who ACTUALLY RIDE!

    Just to make it easy, click HERE.
    #16
  17. Momster

    Momster Adventurer

    Joined:
    Jun 10, 2016
    Oddometer:
    49
    Location:
    California
    Thanks so much for the offer! We were only in for one night but hope we'll cross roads with you someday!
    #17
  18. Momster

    Momster Adventurer

    Joined:
    Jun 10, 2016
    Oddometer:
    49
    Location:
    California
    We're heading back south to Santa Fe tomorrow but will be coming back up to hit RMNP -- of course! We may take you up on the place to stay, even a backyard to pitch our tent would be great. Thanks!
    #18
    Project Mayhem likes this.
  19. HappyCRNA

    HappyCRNA Paper chaser Super Supporter

    Joined:
    Oct 12, 2011
    Oddometer:
    4,398
    Location:
    KY/WI
    :lurk

    Love your writing!! Good times!
    #19
    Momster likes this.
  20. Valker

    Valker Long timer

    Joined:
    Dec 5, 2003
    Oddometer:
    1,684
    Location:
    Pampa, Texas
    I do currently own a house with four empty bedrooms...... ;)
    #20
    Momster likes this.