I love hanging out at the HUBB. Its sort of like hanging out at the bar with a bunch of people, all of whom have great stories and obscure knowledge and listening to them chat away over . I don't have much to add, usually. I have not, in my own mind, “Seen the Elephant,” and feel a bit out classed. But not in a bad way – it's not an exclusive feeling. I just know when to listen, I guess.


I've been wanting to make a meeting almost since I learned about them. I've been in the Southeast a lot over the years, it's “close” and I have friends there I enjoy visiting. Honestly, it was the meeting I should've aimed for, so naturally I decided I wanted to go to the one in Colorado.


I had to wait a couple years, for the vacation dates to line up nicely. Next year I am planning on joining the Moto-Homeless in July, so there was a certain amount of sense in going this year. So I sent in my registration info and took three weeks off, two before and one after. Then I started looking at other things I wanted to see.


The Grand Canyon, of course. And Moab. And maybe up to Crazy Horse afterward, and the Corn Palace...and then it was 3 weeks before I was supposed to be leaving and I didn't have a route, was under-funded, and work was going to be extra busy in the lead up to departure. Not a great situation, but I was just traveling in the USA, and I have quite a few multi-week trips under my belt, so I didn't really have a sense of panic at all.


Silly me.


I wanted to ride my 1981 sr250 exciter (A bike named Adultery, but not for the reason you think). I haven't ever done a multi-day camping/riding trip on it, but it is the bike I was planning to be homeless on so we needed to spend some time together. I dumped the sorta addresses into mapsourse (Where was the HU Meeting supposed to be again? Oh, and some campgrounds...Oh look carhenge is right there, hmmm...) and told it to make a route. I slide the little “Avoid highways” tab pretty far, liked to mileage I ended up with, and went to worry about something else. No, I didn't actually look at the route. Why should I? Jeez.


Next was some frantic packing. Not really frantic, I know what to bring and the list gets a little smaller each time, but I have been using a xs1100 with a fairing and hard luggage for the last couple of years. My stuff doesn't fill that bike, but it was a lot on the Exciter.





I wasn't happy with the load. I also had two ammo can I had modified to use as sidecases, but had been having problems with the brackets. I was also feeling sick – feverish. I did actually have a fever, and I think it was clouding my head, since I decided, even though the ammo cans were a bad idea, I would re-install them and use them on the trip – the day before I was supposed to leave. So I did.






so this was the bike as I was ready to leave in the morning. I was leaving 3 hours later than I wanted – since I had gone to bed later and was still feeling fuzzy I had decided to sleep more. I was still thinking I would manage 500-600 miles before stopping – 200-300 miles further than I had ever gone in one day on this bike. I was not in the best mental place.


Oh, and yeah. I still wasn't happy with the load. The cases weren't full, it was the stuff on the back. Well, and the cases. All well, I was off.


I wasn't on the road long when I began to wonder what Mr Garmin was thinking. I did keep following it though, it was generally in the right direction. I just wanted to get some miles. I was still fuzzy, so I was drinking soda at a rate much higher than normal, which is about 2 a week. Still, When I got to the first gas stop I dropped the bike (Really? I thought to myself...) on the right side. No real damage, the brake lever was bent a little but no big deal. I got fuel and decided to stop and have a fruit cup (and another soda). Sitting and looking at the bike I saw -






Looked a little crooked to me, and on inspection of the bolts had disappeared. There was a hardware store not far way, so I bought some safety wire and threw some loops around the offending area.






I will also admit to feeling like crap. It was dreary and overcast, and Mr Garmin's route (Okay, it was the route I told it to make, don't confuse the issue) had me on...well the county roads were the big ones. It was pretty, but I wasn't making any sort of miles. I stopped the routing and looked at a map, deciding to move to US routes (Better than prolonged interstate), and hit the road again.


I stopped for lunch which was going to be a picnic in a park, but I was still feeling off and decided I would get real food in a little diner. It was good, but as I was feeling sick it gave everything an off taste.


On bigger roads I was finally making some miles, and crossed into Iowa. I hadn't planned it, but my new route had me passing the National Motorcycle Museum so I thought I would stop. I...I am sad to admit I almost didn't. I felt such a need to make miles. But I did.


I'd been to Wheels Through Time earlier this summer, and have been to the Barber Museum. The museum in Iowa was decent, but I wasn't in the best mental frame of mind for it. I did like the steam powered bike -






People came over in the parking lot to comment on the little bike and big load. Sturgis was going on around this time, and I guess a BMW rally somewhere. Sadly it was all something of a haze. I got back on the road, unsure how much farther I would actually go, and frankly I was thinking about going home. I hadn't even been on the road 12 hours.


I stopped to take some more pics somewhere, this one I like -






Another fuel stop, and I was heading south and west again. The bike was feeling a bit funny, but I blamed it on the grooved road surface. This was optimistic, as it turned out -






Obviously that was affecting my handling. I sat for a few minutes to drink some water. Then set to getting it all back together again.




Broken hook replaced (I had spares with)




Rack bent back straight

Considerably more safety wire applied




Straps added to take the weight




And re-packed.


Okay, right here I should've headed for a campground, gone to bed early, and rethought my plan the next day. But it was too much, and I pointed the bike back home. I simply wasn't together enough to keep going, I think. And I've spent a few years doing endurance riding, so I do have a tendency to abort rather than wait.


I get home without any more problems (Which I wouldn't even notice for a few days), and much faster. And then I spend a few days resting and thinking about what all went wrong. And then I decide I still have 2plus weeks off, and still want to head to the southwest. So the touring bike is packed and I once again hit the road.

__________________
I write books about motorcycle travel. Small, cheap, motorcycle travel. Also superheroes.

I had lost a week, so now there was one week left before the meeting. And I wanted to see the Grand Canyon, so there was something of a time/distance problem developing. With all that, I decided not to use the little Exciter, but my much larger xs1100 (A bike called Suffering, if you were wondering). This meant I could speed out west on the interstate system, and easily carry everything I could want.


I still had a mild fever some days, it would actually last into the next week. I was taking drugs instead of resting, which was dumb but what can you do (Other than be dumb, of course). The bike was packed, and I hit the road, not worried about a later start. I had a delicious breakfast and sat for a while at the Mississippi watching boats go by





I ride into the night, through the plains, stopping in North Platte for the night.


No, I really didn't take many pictures. I-80 isn't that exciting. You should try it if you don't believe me.


I reached North Platte around 11pm, so didn't see much of it. Finding out in the morning it was home of a Wild West Memorial I headed over there.





I never really understood it all. I guess the first rodeo ever was held around here somewhere, and there is a Buffalo Bill Museum and stuff for his Wild West Show, though I didn't see a lot of it. I did stop at Fort Cody



Which had a little museum in it (and gokarts).





Don't ask me about the calf. There wasn't a sign or anything.


I killed a lot of bugs so far


Back on the road and headed west. I've only been this far west further north, where there are the Badlands and the Black Hills, so the on and on plains surprised me some. And it got hot. I stopped for lunch at a little diner, which had a lot of traffic (usually a good sign) only to find roaches under the table when I sat down. The bathroom was pretty bad too.



Yup, this is Colorado. Not what they put on the posters.


I roll into Moab in the pitch black.I had wanted to go a bit farther, but I didn't want to be on new roads with wildlife in the dark, so I went looking for a hotel. Motel 6 was full, so I went to Super 8...which did have free WiFi...but the worst beds I recall ever in a hotel. I mean plywood with sheets bad. The breakfast didn't make up for it.


I was up early, with all of Moab around me, but I would be back in a few days so I headed out, still south and west, for the Grand Canyon. Looking at my map, I saw I could go through Monument Valley with little or no diversion, so I did.


Now, I hadn't done any pre-trip maintenance on this bike, and I had noticed a steady decline in my MPG. I usually get in the mid to upper 30s, but was now dipping into the upper 20s. I blamed the altitude. The xs11 has carbs, and I didn't have different jets. This was doing further bad things to my budget, and as it turns out was...not completely correct. But I don't want to get to far ahead.


Monument Valley was just a name on the map, I really didn't know anything about it. As I rode through it, it looked pretty much like everything else. Cool to see, definitely not the midwest, but I didn't really see why it was special for the region. As it turns out it looked like everything else because I was inside it all the time. The scale of the west got to me a little.





I kept riding, finally reaching the Grand Canyon just as light rain started to fall.


I came in the east entrance, which they were just re-black topping. It was 25 miles of loose tarry pebbles (hence the photo without the bike, the sidestand sank in). I asked at the entrance if Mather had campsites left, and was told yes, so I passed Desert View. I don't think I knew how far I would have to go on that road, but it worked out okay.


I reached the camp site, which I could only get for one night, just as the sun came out again. The Canadian couple in the site next to mine had just hiked down to the canyon floor that day, something which I both wanted, and didn't want, to do. I cooked some ramen, and since I was again feeling my fever, went to bed.

__________________
I write books about motorcycle travel. Small, cheap, motorcycle travel. Also superheroes.

umm... More Please!

I am from Colorado, so I love hearing about it... sigh, I miss it...

The Grand Canyon is amazing too!

By the way, next time through Moab try the Lazy Lizard hostel. They are great, nothing fancy like you expect from a hotel, but the price is superb and they are really nice too. (If you have never stayed in a hostel you might be in for a bit of a surprise, but if you take it for what it is, well then it is a great experience.

Cheers

__________________
Brian C, -Traveler Relations,
The Muskoka Foundation -Volunteer Programs For Overland Travelers

Sorry, computer problems. Well, and pics that I thought were online weren't actually there.

I'll get the rest out though, don't worry

__________________
I write books about motorcycle travel. Small, cheap, motorcycle travel. Also superheroes.

I woke up in the Grand Canyon feeling completely miserable. The sun was out, bird were probably singing, but I ached and was feverish and generally would rather have stayed in bed. I had to take my tent down anyway. I thought about a shower, but there was a line for the pay showers and I didn't have the energy to wait. Instead I thought some food might help (at least with the anti-fever pills I wanted to take).



There was an English menu also, but this amused me. The counter was staffed with Asians, so it made sense. I had pancakes and bacon, washed down with ibuprofen.

A spent a few minutes looking at the tour bus routes, where the national park passport stamps were located, and what looked like it would be cool to see.

I started with a short (0.7 mile) hike alone the south rim, the first half of which was under construction with only partial, obstructed views of the canyon. I had a lot of company on the path, though, and it was pleasant to walk.



Once I reached the part where I could just walk to the canyon rim (And, as you can see, you can really walk right up to the canyon rim), the view was incredible. I took some pictures, knowing they would suck and not do the canyon justice when I looked at them later (totally true), and kept walking.


People are funny. Right by that view, and these two were taking pictures of squirrels. There were a lot of squirrels, and they weren't shy at all.

Actually, as I walked along I started to understand the squirrel pictures. Always to my right there was a beautiful vista. It was always awesome. After 15 minutes I was looking at other stuff. To be fair, I was still feeling like crap, the sun was warm, and I was thinking about a nap, but, well...

I reached my first bus ride with some interest. There is no fee, and three routes, one each for the west, central, and eastern areas of the south rim. The eastern route actually goes where cars aren't allowed, so I thought that would be cool when I got there. I started on the western route, though.

A bus ride took me to another part of the south rim, where I got out to walk some more, where there were more awesome views

That's a hiking trail down there. Hiking the canyon was something I wanted to do but now that I was here there was no way I was up for it. A reason to go back.

Yup, no safety rails. Several people fall to the death every year. As an American I'm surprised, in a good way.


All those people were here -

Looking at this


I rested here almost 30 minutes, drank almost 2 liters of water, and realised Despite all the water I wasn't using the bathroom. This was not a good sign, but since I wasn't thinking clearly I decided just to buy some more water (duh - why not refill the water bottles?) and carry on.


None of my pictures are framed very well. The warning picture reminds me of someone jumping into a lake.


See the people ?

Another hiking trail for me to explore next time I visit.


the canyon got more green as I made my way west. The furthest west you can go, Hermits Rest, looks out over another awesome, but slightly different view.

__________________
I write books about motorcycle travel. Small, cheap, motorcycle travel. Also superheroes.

I took a nap waiting at the bus stop near Hermit's Rest. It was quite restful, despite being on a concrete bench. I didn't feel much better afterward, but the sun felt awesome.

I decided I had done enough for the day, and headed back into the Grand Canyon Village. I collected a few more passport stamps (There are 5 or 6 in the whole south rim, spread out so you have to get around some) and ate again. I also spent some time chatting with a friend on the phone, who seemed to think I should be in bed somewhere. I decided to take her advice and headed south out of the park to find a new campsite.

Just a few miles south of the south entrance to the park is the town of Tusayan. There was supposed to be an Imax theater there with talked about the forming of the Grand Canyon, and several campgrounds. There was a really cheap primitive one a few miles further south, but I wanted to be able to walk around, so I camped in town. There was also a shower there, which I felt like I needed.

Tusayan was an interesting town, everything was 20% more expensive than anything else in the area (gas was even more expensive than inside the national park, a first in my experience), and the town seemed to be nothing but restaurants, hotels, one gas station, 2 campgrounds, and a Discovery Channel Imax. I took in the Imax, which was unimpressive as far as information went, but still pretty too look at, ate something light (Frankly I don't remember), and went to bed as the sun was setting.

I woke up the next morning feeling better than I had in a few days, which I took as a good thing, packed up and headed north back into the park. The area called Desert View I had rode past when I first entered, and it was off the bus line so I hadn't seen it the day before. It was just inside the eastern gate, and also had a campground, but that campground is first come first served and rarely has spots open.

Riding back through the park, I had forgotten the 25 miles of gravel from the ride in, but it was dry now and easier. The signs for Desert View were nice and easy to find, which made me wonder how I missed it on the way in, but it was raining.


This lookout tower was built to resemble native american lookout towers from the area tribes. It was being fixed up while I was there, which was a little distracting but not too bad. And there were perhaps more people here than deeper into the park, which I thought odd.


The view certainly is nice...again



I enjoyed the inside of the tower, there were four floors, plus a roof that was closed. Little windows were spaced to give views of the canyon below






I was a bit sad that the roof was closed, and perhaps would have gone up there anyway except there were workers up there. Maybe I needed to be there on a weekend.

With Desert View seen, I headed back to the bike and out of the park, headed back to Moab, with a stop at the just re-opened Four Corners Monument on the way.

__________________
I write books about motorcycle travel. Small, cheap, motorcycle travel. Also superheroes.

Since I have time and internet everyone gets a second post.

The Four Corners Monument is one of those things you just have to see when you are in the area. When planning the trip I was disappointed to hear it was closed for construction, and while you could still pay to go in, you couldn't actually get to the monument (and yes, I know there is some discussion about whether its in the right place. I don't really care, since it is the monument I want to see).

But, I was in the area a week later than planned, and a quick internet search showed that it had re-opened the day before, so off I went.

If you don't know, the Four Corners is the only place where 4 states meet in the USA, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona and Utah. Unsurprisingly, it's a bit desert-like


And the local Indians (native Americans) have set up little booths to sell things

99% of which is tourist trinkets, and the last 1% gas station trinkets. I was hoping for a Four Corners sticker, but no luck.


So you don't get lost.


Certainly looks impressive


I had to wait almost 20 minutes for this picture, there was such a stream of people wanting to stand on/straddle/run around the four states.


So, if this is the right spot, then here is the spot.

I ran into my first other motorcycle traveler here, whose name I didn't write down and whose bike I didn't take a picture of (I KNOW!! what was I thinking?). But while chatting (as opposed to riding on to Moab) I decided to take a few minutes to look at my bike and try to figure out what was going wrong. (This is the first time in my journal I cared enough to do more than note the loss of power and MPG, so I was clearly feeling better).

This was what I found right away-



Way too much fuel getting into the engine, this looks like backfires. I call my local mechanic (who, by the way, volunteered to keep as many parts as I want in his shop on standby, and ship them anywhere in the world I need, when I go on my longer trip next year. No charge, though I told him I would pay for the shipping.) to find out how screwed I really am at this point, and order a replacement. I'm mainly worried about bits getting into the engine. He was too, but only a little. The bike was sick, but should still get me home, and a new filter should be there by the time I get back.

I keep looking, and see the #3 carb is just pouring gas, so something is stuck or jammed, but removing the carbs on this bike is almost a 2 hour job, and I don't want to tackle that in the parking lot right now. I drain the float bowl and give it a few taps until it stops leaking, put everything back together and head out, smelling very much of gas and glad no one was smoking.

I reach Moab and find a campground right downtown (Again, so I can walk). To get to the tent site I have to manage a little water crossing, which is fun. In the campground there are 3 BMW riders, who I chat with for a while after dinner (Which I pay too much for, and by the time I leave am actually shivering and feeling crappy again). Again as night falls I crawl into my sleeping bag.

__________________
I write books about motorcycle travel. Small, cheap, motorcycle travel. Also superheroes.

I woke the next morning...damp. In fact the inside of my sleeping bag felt like I had taken a shower and not dried off before climbing in. And I felt much better. Yup, my fever had (finally) broken.

I packed up, letting my sleeping bag air out some. The plan today was to hike around Arches National Park, then find a hotel to spend the night in. I did sorta need the hotel, since I had left an important part of my charging equipment at home, and every piece of electronics I had was dead or dying. The next day I was supposed to head to the HU meeting, and I though shaving and showering might be nice.

I rode over to Arches, which I had seen in the dark a few days earlier when I first rode into Moab on the way to the Grand Canyon.

There were a steady stream of cars, so I couldn't get just the bike. That's okay, though.


They take their visitor's center seriously at Arches. I will also admit the two rangers who were working were....very attractive. I was too shy to take a picture though.

There are several routes suggested by the displays, based on how much walking you want to do, and how much time you have. I played with the route maker for a while, but really just to see what I wanted to see. There was also a (Pretty cool) video about the formation of Arches, and Canyonlands NP to the south of Moab.

I decided to ride most of the park, seeing the delicate arch, and the landscape arch, two of the more famous arches, and headed out with a map. There really is only one road, but there are a lot of cul de sacs and short side roads, and I didn't want to wander too much.

There was a lot of traffic, even a few other motorcycles. I kept expecting to see dozens of arches along the road, but really there weren't many.

The Three Gossips, who I had heard about in the movie at the visitor's center.

Lots of places for arches, so where were they all?

Arches are formed by these blades being forced up. They have softer rock near the bottom, which wear faster than the top. I think that was how it worked, anyway. (You will notice, there are still no arches actually in evidence)

If you look closely, you will see a tiny little arch near the right edge of that ridge line. That was the first arch I saw, about 30 minutes after riding out of the visitor station.


Balanced Rock, which is pretty cool, if a little unnerving. You can go under it, and I wonder how stable it really is.

I pulling into the parking lot for the Delicate Arch and saw my first arch up close

In fact, there were arches everywhere here.


I hiked up to the Delicate Arch viewing area, which isn't the much longer walk to the arch itself. I decided I only wanted to do one long hike, and that would be for the Landscape arch. This was still around a mile, and mostly up.

There is a path there, see it?

And there it is, the most famous arch in the park. Hiking back to the parking lot was all down hill, which was very nice.

If you missed it, I really was feeling much better on this day. In fact, I took more pictures at Arches than I did anywhere else (by a healthy margin), and didn't mind the hiking (unlike the much shorter walks around the Grand Canyon). I felt awesome.

Back on the bike I rode a bit further into the park towards the Landscape Arch. This arch is the longest in the park, and in the 90's started dropping bits. In 1996 they closed the trail that led under the arch, and it is just a matter of time before it falls completely, so I thought I had better go see it.

Well marked path.

There were several of these rock piles along the path, no idea why.

I got the impression every arch has a name, but I don't know most (any, really) of them. The hike to the landscape arch had a lot of arches along it, and a fair number of people.


The trail had a couple side trails, which I decided to take. This arch (Pilgrim? I really don't know) shows how the arches collapse - from the bottom. Water and wind work into the cracks and breaks the pieces off. You are still allowed to walk under this one.


And there it is. As you can see, it's pretty narrow, and doesn't look like it will hold up that much longer, though even the staff admits it might still last decades. Or weeks. It did last the day, anyway, and I started the hike back out.


There are signs, suggesting you bring water with you on the walk. I filled this 1 gallon jug before heading out from the parking lot, and saw a lot of people carrying empty 24oz bottles on the way out, being envious of my jug. This is after I got back to the parking lot, so I drank a lot.

After this I headed into Moab, eating a massive salad at Denny's (And getting a coupon for free breakfast) before getting a hotel room. In the parking lot I saw this-

So I could add an oil leak to my bike woes. It was actually pretty bad, and I had to go looking for oil to fill the bike back up.

Not much else I could do about that, so I took a shower (Sorry for who ever had to clean the room after I left), plugged everything in, and enjoyed air conditioning (without a fever) and TV.

__________________
I write books about motorcycle travel. Small, cheap, motorcycle travel. Also superheroes.

The small rock piles are actually called "cairns" People pile the rocks so as to make a marking that is not harmful to the land, but still marks whatever it is they want to mark. Often people will use them for marking favorite points, but in parks they are very commonly used to mark the trail. Cairns along hiking trails are often maintained by groups of hikers adding a stone when they pass. It is easy (quote unquote) To build them, and then it makes it a simple way to identify where the trail is, obviously pretty important on the slick rock in Moab. If you can not find your trail out there it can take a while (sometimes) to find your way back to the trail when you are on a huge slab of rock! (ask me how I know... )

SO still looking for the ultimate reason you did not make it to CO! Any more to this charming story? I truly can not believe you actually stayed out that long while feeling ill, no way I would have done that if I did not have to.

__________________
Brian C, -Traveler Relations,
The Muskoka Foundation -Volunteer Programs For Overland Travelers

Sorry, life is getting in the way again. Planning to become a homeless motorcycle vagrant starting next summer, and its a lot more complicated than you would think.

So, I woke up Moab, it was Thursday the 26th, the day I had planned to arrive in Silverton for the meeting. I woke up, went and got free breakfast at Denny's, and, since I was feeling clear headed for the first time in what felt like forever, took stock on my situation.

I was way overbudget, in fact I had spent closer to three times my budget than twice it. My motorcycle was eatting it's oil filter, getting 50% its usual MPG, and spraying oil all over my left leg (and the left side of the bike). Perhaps worst of all, I had taken three weeks off work to go on a long road trip on my 250, to see if I could, in fact, go on a long road trip on my 250, and then poorly planned it, and then given up rather than re-assessing what I was doing in light of the different bike.

I short, I was not meeting the goals I had made for this trip. This wasn't an easy thing for me to admit, and my journal includes some impolite names for myself.

I lingered for a while over my soda (Free refills on coffee and soda, and I'm not a coffee drinker), thinking about what to do next. I was under 200 miles from Silverton, but hadn't paid yet and after going over my receipts I was feeling extremely poor (In fact, I probably could have repeated the trip, but that wasn't the point). But, mainly, it was the fact I still had a week off, and wanted to get a trip on the 250 in before I had to return to work that made me turn the bike towards home.

Although, as I was leaving Moab, I saw a bike with beat up bags and a British flag on the tank, and almost decided I was being stupid and changed my mind. But I didn't and continued north back to the interstate.


I was taking a lot more pictures, and seeing more things that were...amusing...than I had on the way out.


Anybody lose a horse?

I also enjoyed the Southern Rockies much more this time through.


Once back on the interstate, the big bike settled into its usual rhythm. My MPG got a little better as I headed east as well, slowly getting lower all the time. I pulled into North Platte again to stay the night at the same hotel I had stopped at on the way west, this time early enough to order a pizza.

Up early, I continued east, but saw a sign for a Pony Express Station, and decided to stop. One thing I don't like about how I travel on the big bike is a tendency to never stop, except for gas. Too much endurance riding. Even now I was wondering if I should or not, but still pulled in.

The station was actually further from the interstate than I thought it would be, but clearly marked, and in a small park.

As it turns out, the building was moved there, which I thought wasn't quite as neat as if it was still in it's original location. There was also a couple of staff ladies, who pounced on me as soon as I entered, eager to tell stories of the riders and the building. I listened to some of it, but was a bit overcome by their enthusiasm, and requests for donations.

I dropped some money into the jar (loose change) and got back on the bike.

As I was riding through Iowa, I felt an extra vibration, and pulled off to see what was going on. As it turned out, several of the bolts that held my Vetter luggage together had broken or vibrated loose. The bike was more buzzy than usual, as the oil level went up and down. I didn't have spare bolts, so instead I moved some from other locations on the bike, and employed a healthy amount of safety wire.

missing the bolt

missing the nut

missing both, this bolt is from the rack the top case attaches too. It looked extra, and was as it turned out.

Muttering a few things about Iowa and it's affects on my luggage, I got back on the road and finished the ride without incident. Once home, I had to fix the problems on the touring bike, and then work out the luggage issues on the 250 and go for another multi-day ride. Another cross country trip was pretty much out of the question, since I had proved to myself 600 mile days on the little bike just wasn't going to work. But I already had a plan forming.

__________________
I write books about motorcycle travel. Small, cheap, motorcycle travel. Also superheroes.

I found myself back at home, with a week left of my vacation. The bike touring bike was needing some serious service, and tires. But the whole point of this vacation time was to take a long test ride on my sr250, which so far I hadn't done. I had discovered that long days on the small bike just weren't going to happen, not without some working up to it anyway, and so I planned a shorter road trip, about 200-300 miles a day, and staying nearer home.

I also had spent a fair number of hours riding across the USA thinking about the luggage. I did want hard luggage for the trip, but I decided that was really just because I have a sticker addiction and wanted somewhere to put them. One of the things I liked about the 250 was it was much lighter, and hard luggage would move away from that. So, I decided to give soft bags a try.

I got home, spent a day or some working out a new plan and visiting friends, then loaded up the bike.


Still looks like a lot, but I was (and still am) much happier with it. The water and gas didn't stay on the rear rack, falling off somewhere in the next 20 miles or so. Little sad about the water bottle, since I have had it for years, but clearly I'll live.

The plan was to ride to the Spam Museum, near the Hormel Plant in Austin, MN. I've always meant to go there, but never found the time to actually stop. And I would limit myself to state and US highways, no interstate riding (except for short distances). And I would camp, exclusively, no matter the weather or how I felt. I planned four days, though it ended up as three.

So, off I went.


This grocery store had a mouse to carry your stuff to your car. If you trusted it not to run off.

I rode west on Wisconsin Highway 33, which is considered one of the best roads in the Midwest. It passes through Wildcat State Park, a twisty up and down section that is fun even on a loaded down 250.


It was a beautiful day, and I had the road pretty much to myself. After days of interstate riding, being off on two lane roads was relaxing.



Eventually I reached the Mighty Mississippi. I had thought about camping on the rive somewhere, but it was still early in the day, so I decided to ride closer to Austin, meaning I could get to the museum early the next morning.


Very high bridge.

Once over the river, and away from the bluffs that line it, I was back in the flatlands the Midwest is known for.

(I was swarmed by bugs for this photo)


You can tell by the shadows that it was getting later, so I looked at my map for a campground. "Mystery Cave State Park" sounded promising, so I rode off. I had to turn off the state highway onto a gravel road, looking for another turn about 5 miles along. At 7 miles I rechecked my directions, gave it another mile, then back tracked. No road. I hadn't seen anyone, either.

I rode back to the state highway, and back tracked to the last town I'd gone through. There had been two campgrounds there, so I picked the cheaper one and set up my camp, eating a double portion of chicken ramen for dinner as I wrote in my journal.

I was sitting against a tree reading when a older woman invited me over to their fire. Her and her brother both had permanent spots in the campground for their RV's, and pretty soon the campground owners had shown up too. Apparently this was the happening place to be.

I was still being attacked my mosquitoes, and everyone seemed very apologetic about it. It seems they don't usually get bugs in this campground, since the only water is cold and fast flowing. But this summer had seen a lot of rain, and there was standing water, and so there were bugs. I just wore long sleeves and shrugged.

They were also concerned because storms were expected overnight, and I was in a little tent. Both the brother and sister made sure I knew I could seek shelter if I needed it.

It was late when I went to sleep, and I realized later I hadn't taken a single picture.

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I write books about motorcycle travel. Small, cheap, motorcycle travel. Also superheroes.