To Bash a Bug

This year was the 7th annual Bug Bash rally, held in Dayton, OH, drawing a cast of thousands. Ok, maybe dozens, but still a good attendance.

Saturday morning I woke up to the absence of an alarm clock, and the distinct feeling it wasn't as early as I'd hoped. Thankfully, it was still only 8 a.m., but my phone's alarm had been set for 7:30. I found the alarm to be more helpful when I turned the phone's ringer back on. I got up a little stiffly, but that soon wore off, and I headed downstairs, hoping to catch up with Smurf and see about getting the bike chain adjusted before we were all due to meet up in the Target parking lot at 9:30.

I found Smurf outside and he walked over to the bike with me, agreeing that the chain had been in fairly significant need of an adjustment (just because the slack was enough, it could stretch up and touch the swingarm..) Whilst I had been upstairs sawing logs, he'd been busy, and with a borrowed wrench and his own tool kit, adjusted the chain, informing me he'd gotten his hands greasy before even going to breakfast. That was super nice of him to take care of that for me, and if you're reading this, sir, thanks again!

Since there was now a little free time, I walked back in to get some of the free breakfast, and sat with Karl, Tom and Catt. I'd ridden with Karl last year in the north Georgia mountains, along with another member of the BBO, Larry, so it was kind of cool to get to see them again. Breakfast was a short break, and then everyone started filtering out into the parking lot, suiting up and heading across Wilmington Pike to the Target.

All told, there were probably 35 bikes in the group, with 29 of them going on the ride through the countryside. Lots of milling and talking before Mike (Mr. Host) summoned us all for some pre-trip instructions and etiquette. A cop did act as our blocker so we could all leave the parking lot as one body, and I was up in the first four of the regular bikes, riding behind the leaders and a few other riders acting as blockers for the multiple intersections we went through.

The ride was definitely more a leisurely cruise through corn fields than a lively race through mountains, but it was still fun to get out. We managed to find a few curves and definitely were out in the sticks. A lot of areas we rode through had trees overhanging the road, which provided cool tunnels, there were hills to negotiate, both up and down, and it turns out some of those signs that indicated a sharp curve ahead were accurate.


Our first stop was at Caesar Creek Gorge where 29 bikes were counted and cold water provided out of one of the chase vehicles. At this point, I was able to bum some batteries for my camera off Smurf (good thing he came to the rally...I'd a been in sorry shape!). My original batteries had died right as we'd left the Target parking lot, which is why there are no pics from that part of the ride.

At the stop, some ladies were doing yoga stretches, while Angie, the roving photographer was documenting everything digitally. Before heading out again, we all gathered for a group shot near a bridge, but shortly after that saddled up again. This time, I was second in line behind the leaders and blockers, with Chris ahead on his Honda VLX, and Matthew (Smurf Jr.) riding pillion.

More curves and winding roads ahead. There was one curve that had a decreasing radius that snuck up on me a little, to the point I said, "whoa!" in my helmet, but I managed to stay to the right of the centerline. The guy on the cruiser behind me did swing a bit to the left, and I was really glad there was no oncoming traffic. A few minutes later, there was a left handed 90 degree turn, and you didn't see it until you were on top of it that 60% of the road was covered with loose grass clippings. I was heading deep into the curve when I saw that, and immediately slid left off the seat and tightened up my turn to stay inside of the loose grass. It came up quickly and there was not really any way to warn anyone behind of the hazard ahead.

We rode on a few more minutes, but then a couple of the blockers peeled off and headed back the way we came. Then the leader did the same, and the one outrider ahead pulled over onto a side road, and the snake of bikes followed. Once down the road, that bike turned back the way we'd come, and the rest of us are looking at each other and wondering what the hang is going on. Parked the bikes (on a side country road) and got off to find out what was up. Word filtered back that a rider had gone down in the grassy curve, so then there were anxious moments to hear of her condition. Finally, we heard she was fine, but the bike was not in rideable condition. The folks who'd gone back for the downed rider left her bike there to be gathered on a trailer and brought her back to meet up with the rest of us. Margaret looked a little shook up, and wasn't terribly happy with herself, but we were all glad the worst appeared to be knees that had been scuffed up through jeans.

A few from the group headed back to the hotel to get a trailer and truck so they could rescue her bike, and the rest of us eventually got our bikes turned around on that stinking narrow road. A word about that side road. It was narrow, but from the looks of it, it seemed like it would have to be no narrower than 'The Box' that all BRC and ERC riders have to deal with (and do figure 8 turns inside of). However, every rider that attempted a u-turn on that road ended up stopping and having to back up to complete the turn. Except me. However! When I got near the end of the arc, I was also near the edge of the road and there was a nice line of gravel on the edge. Instead of braking, I straightened up and rode off the road. Across a ditch. Up a slight incline and completed the u-turn, popping back through the ditch one more time to get to the road. The Ninja. It goes offroad :)

This time, since we all turned around in place, I was back near the very end of the line of bikes, and it was pretty cool to see the serpentine effect of the riders in front of me, going over hills and through curves. We didn't have far to ride and ended up at Miranda's Old Time Ice Cream for lunch and a break from the sun. While there, I sat with Chris, Brian (Smurf), Matthew and Emily (Smurf Jr. and Smurfette), and yimmidibidu (or Bob). After a while, when the kids were eating their ice cream on either side of me, the guys wandered off and I was regaled on one side with the formula to make an atomic fart bomb (by a very creative rising 6th grader) and on the other side got to watch a phone video Emily had made of her two young cousins participating in 'Red Light; Green Light.' The kids were good fun and were definitely enjoying their first long distance ride. Mama Smurf was riding with one of the guys who'd gone back for the trailer, so she wasn't there for lunch.

Soon enough, we all crossed the street to get back to our bikes and started heading to Mike's house. Mike and Angie live on a cul de sac, and thankfully, the neighbors seem to like this annual gathering. Good thing, too, because we all descended like two wheeled locusts in the early afternoon and parked around the perimeter of the cul de sac, filling it completely.

The next 'event' was a bike swap. Pretty much everyone left his keys in his bike and tacit permission to take it out for a spin. I didn't want to be the first one to go out, and it was a few minutes before the first person headed out. Once that ice was broken, though, bikes were coming and going for the next two hours, easy. When it was all said and done, I rode 10 bikes other than mine, and really had a blast. Everything from a big adventure tourer, to a sport tourer, to a pure sport bike, to a cruiser. While I was out riding a ZX-14, its owner was riding along on my bike, probably making sure I didn't get in over my head. At the first stoplight, he came up beside me and told me not to be afraid to open it up on the next stretch. So I did. Yeeee. Haw. Wow. That was a stupidly fast bike, and incredibly smooth. It left my poor bike in yesterday's dust, with Anson trying futilely to whip it up to pace with the machine I was on. Once we got back to Mike's, he said he had a totally new respect for me having ridden 1,000 miles on my Ninja....can't imagine why! :)

Top two favorite bikes I rode were the BMW R1150GS and the FJR. Makes me think about the next bike. One day, though not terribly soon (more on that later). Finally, after ending my riding tests on a humongorific Honda Valkyrie, I was done riding for the night and ready for some food. It appears most everyone else had the good sense to start eating while I was out taking yet another bike on a spin. Lots of good food, though, and after I loaded up my plate, I went and sat by John (Atonic) and his wife Debbie. I'd last seen him in Durango, as he was the other 'mystery guest' who'd ridden out there for the Potato Ranch Rally. Since that rally, he'd actually been quite ill with diverticulitis and had been in the hospital for an extended period. His trip to Mike's was the first excursion out of the house that did not involve a doctor's appointment in nearly six weeks. During that time, he's lost 42 pounds, although I have to say, it's a bit extreme to diet like that, John!

I stayed until around 11 again, and headed back to the hotel after the door prizes and poker run winner had been announced. Bob (yimmidibidu) followed me back to the hotel on his bike, since he'd been stuck in the cul de sac all afternoon with a bad battery, and hadn't learned the way back. Chatted for a few once back in the hotel parking lot, and then off to bed, again ending the day around midnight. I was looking forward to Sunday, which was truly going to be a day of rest. I needed it!

The Tale of a Tail of Iron

My three birds for the long weekend just passed were: completing a SaddleSore 1000, getting Michigan onto my 'states ridden' list, and going to the Bug Bash, a rally in Ohio for folks from the BeginnerBikers.org website.

After doing some reading up on the SS1000, I figured I'd need to allow at least 18 hours for the ride, and since the BBO group was meeting around 7 p.m. for supper, I decided to leave town around 10 p.m. on Thursday night.

My brother lives about 5 miles from where I work, so I went directly to his house on Thursday, and flaked out on the couch. The kids were gone and the house was clean and quiet, thanks to my sis in law, Monique. Grant had the boys with him, and they swung by to pick up Monique for supper, and I was alone in the house. I know I drifted off sometime around 4:45, and woke up at 6:30ish. From that point until 10:30, I did no more than a light snooze for maybe another cumulative hour, and laid there at 10:30 when my cell phone alarm went off, wondering if I was actually going to do this thing.

I'd wanted to get on the road by 10, but the later it got and I wasn't actually sleeping, I set the alarm out a little bit. And then around 10, a very active thunderstorm rolled through, and I wasn't about to leave in something like that. Finally, around 10:45, I decided to get up and see how I felt after getting the last stuff packed up. I wondered if my brother and family would be back before I left (they were having a laaaate supper), but they came in about 5 after 11, when I was almost finished with the last packing.

The boys started peppering me with questions about my gear, my route, my plan, and wished me well as I walked out the front door to my bike at 11:20. The rain had subsided to a moderate drip, but I was all geared up for it, so I got on the bike and headed to my first fuel stop, the receipt of which would be my official start time. When the receipt printed, it was 23:30 on the nose, and I headed out. I had a Starbucks DoubleShot before I left, and had a container of water, along with some 'Energy' trail mix (fruit and dried nuts). I'd had a huge lunch (Chipotle burrito) and no supper, deciding to keep it light for the trip.

Once out on the road, I felt pretty good, so when I had to pass within two miles of my house, I wasn't tempted at all to bail. The drizzle kept up until I got closer to the NC line, but once past that, I was done with the rain for that trip. There was a good bit of traffic out there through the wee small hours, and not all of it belonging to big trucks. My first stop for fuel was just north of Knoxville on I-75, about 180 miles and 3 hours into the trip. Bathroom break, drink of water, snack break and I was back on the road within 20 minutes of stopping. Even with the rain being gone, I left my rain gear on as a wind block layer going through the mountains, and was glad to have the ability to use my heated hand grips.

The next stretch of road was the one where I got the sleepies on this trip. Just before Lexington, I was getting worn out, largely due to having to ride through miles and miles of dense fog. Radar has to be on high alert for this, and it took its toll. I was about to pull off for a stretch break when I saw a sign that Lexington was only about 39 miles away, so I punched my leg a few times, took some deep breaths and pushed on to Lexington. I stopped for fuel on the north side of town again, another 180 miles into my trip, and three more hours gone. This time, I drank and ate a little more and didn't push the stop so much. It still wasn't much more than 20 minutes, but when I got back on the road around 5:45, I felt much better. Cincinnati was only about 90 miles away, and from there I took a left toward Indianapolis.

This is when the beautiful thing happened...sunrise. The fields were all covered in low lying fog as the sun came up, but once it rose and burned all of that off, my body started to feel awake all over. I remember being part-way to Indy and thinking, "Huh, I sure don't feel like I've been riding the bike for the past 7 hours..." Yee haw!

Now, when I got to Indianapolis, I did a little bit of creative navigation. I hadn't brought a map on this trip, although I'd looked at my route online before leaving. I couldn't remember the number of the interstate I needed to get to Michigan, but figured it was 65, since the loop around Indy is 465, and I knew it shot off of there. I also remembered from googlemaps that they did not route me on 465, but took me into downtown and then out a northeasterly direction to get onto the interstate to Michigan.

Having that thought in my head, and seeing signs that advertised a lot of construction and slow down on the NE quandrant of 465, I opted to go into downtown and just pick up 65 from there instead of looping. Within an exit or two, I decided that probably wasn't the best plan, and was about to swing back around on the loop, when I saw signs for 65. Ah well, I thought I couldn't have lost too much time, so I kept going toward 65. Now, mind you, it's Friday morning at 8 a.m. when I'm negotiating rush hour traffic in Indianapolis, after having been on the bike for over 8 hours and going on around 3 hours of sleep.

The problem shortly came up that I-65 was not the interstate I needed, because it was heading northwest to Chicago instead of northeast to Michigan. I decided to stop at the next exit where I saw a gas station to look at a map, but it was a few miles up the road before I saw one to get off. Fueled the bike, parked it by the store, went in for a bathroom break, and then came out to look at a map. Except they didn't sell maps. I asked the lady behind the counter if they sold them, and she said no. She then asked where I was trying to go, and I told her I needed the interstate going to Michigan. That would be I-69, and all I had to do was go up one more exit and I'd hit the loop (465 again). Follow that east and it would take me to 69. At least I hadn't gone way past access to 69, but looking at the map after I'm back, that little detour added, oh, about 30 miles to the day.

Finally back on my way, I headed up 69 to Fort Wayne, Indiana. Not much going on up on that side of the state. A bit of road construction, but that's about it. When I crossed over the Michigan line, I started looking for fuel again. Pulled off in Coldwater, and once again had a map quandary. They had maps, but only localized ones that didn't cover the area I needed. I asked the girl behind the counter if she knew where Albion was. Nope. Went back to the map display, hoping I'd somehow missed a map of Michigan. Nope. Asked a lady stocking milk if she knew how to get to Albion, and struck pay dirt. Twenty five more miles up 69 and hang a right on 94 towards Detroit. About 10 miles down the road is the sign for Albion.

Once in town, it was time to find the plant I was going to. I knew the address, but hadn't looked how to get there. I knew Albion was small, and was hoping to stumble across the right street. Didn't happen, so I parked, getting ready to make a phone call, and a guy was walking around a pickup in front of me. I asked him if he knew where East North Street was, and sure enough, he did. It was a straight shot up the street I was on, which ended in a T at North Street. Turn right and you're on the eastern half of the street and about 10 blocks down was the plant where I was due to meet with a co-worker for lunch.

I'd told Bill I'd be there between 11 and 12, but with my later start from Greenville, it was 12:30 when I finally got there. This was my first long break of the day to get away from the bike, and it was nice. The facility is a fiberglass plant, and I got a quick tour of the offices before heading out to lunch. Eating only fruit and nuts for the previous 600 miles had me kind of peckish at that point. It was good to go to the local dive and get a half a turkey sub. Once back at the office, I printed out directions (yes) to get to my final location in Dayton, and got back on the road around 2:30. It was a quick shot back to the interstate and more construction on the way across to Detroit.

Before the city proper, though, I headed south on 275, stopping off in Carleton to fuel up and see one of Guardian's float glass plants. I didn't have time for a tour, nor had I been able to coordinate anything like that, so I settled for a few pictures from the outside, and then rode on. Further south and I picked up 75, going through Toledo and then finally to Dayton.

By the time I was getting into the city, I was bopping along on my bike, singing and swerving and probably causing lots of consternation in nearby cars. I got off at the exit for the hotel and turned left to get my final gas station receipt (and official end time) before heading back to the right so I could check in. While I was waiting at the light to cross over to the hotel, I saw this line of motorcycles filing onto the interstate, and I knew it had to be the BBO group heading to supper. The original itinerary had them leaving for supper around 7, and it was about 7:15 at this point.

I changed lanes to get into the interstate entrance ramp and raced off to catch them. Nearly overshot the exit I needed, but got off in time, tagging in at the end of the snaky line of bikes waiting to turn onto the main road. At the next light where the bikes were stopped again, I rolled forward into the peripheral view of the last rider, who was Mel, the cruise director/event coordinator for the weekend, and I flipped my visor up. She looked over, looked at my bike and back and me and hollered out, "Krystn??!!" I nodded and got officially included in the ride to the restaurant where the 20 or so bikes parked in a back lot.

When I got off, Mel announced my arrival, and a few folks immediately asked if I was able to get the Iron Butt ride done. I gave that an affirmative and a cheer went up. One rider came over and gave me a hug, who I later learned was a guy from the BBO website (MN_Smurf) who thinks the riding I do is cool, and who I'd asked to be my end 'witness' for the ride. His wife and kids were there as well, and at supper I sat with folks that I knew by screen name, but not much else, and it was neat to match up name and person. Finally figured out this one guy's screen name (that I pronounce something like yimmidibidu), and one guy across the table (Suomi) had read about the trip to Colorado and commented some about the sights and the lovely house I stayed at in Aspen :)

The restaurant was a BBQ place and the food was good, fast and hot. I didn't have any room for ice cream afterwards, but stood outside talking with some of my supper folks. I mentioned to Smurf that my chain was sounding pretty clackety and looked loose (although I had it adjusted a week before I left and lots of slack taken out), and asked if there would be someone who might be able to adjust it among the many wrenches attending the rally. He assured me it would be taken care of (which was a relief) and we all headed back to the hotel right around dusk.

I changed clothes and filled out the witness form for Smurf (aka Brian) to fill out. Mingled outside some, meeting a few new folks, but finally had to call it a day around 11:15. Went upstairs to shower a couple dozen hours of grime off me and got the light out right around midnight.

Thus ended day one.

Oh yeah, I forgot. 1,060 miles ridden per googlemaps (including my creative route in Indy)

To name a few...

Versys, ZX-14, FJR, VRSCD Night Rod, FZ6, R1150GS, Falco, Valkyrie, Rockster. And a Ninja.

These would be bikes I rode today (plus another HD that I don't know the name of). Three standouts were the FJR, the GS and the Zed-Ex, all in different categories, scratching different itches.

I've got the tired itch now, so more details will follow. Eventually.

It doesn't feel like it's iron, but...

the Iron Butt ride has been accomplished. More details to follow, but sleep overrides all at this moment.

Make That Four...

times I've ridden the bike since getting back from CO. We had a whopper of a storm this afternoon, but the skies were clear blue afterwards, so I figured it was a good time to try to start the bike (it's been almost three weeks since starting, and last time I almost couldn't get it to start). It didn't take very long at all to get it cranking, so I decided to take it out for a stretch. Went up into the mountains and decided to eat at an Outback steakhouse in Hendersonville, NC for a treat. Got home five minutes ago, with 76 miles put on the bike. Not a bad stretch!

Not Much Gnu Here

Last year we had a hot June and a fairly mild July and August. Not so this year. The past week has had multiple days with heat indices over 100. By 9:30 at night, the heat index is still typically in the mid nineties. All of that tends to zap the "want to" out of riding to work, since there's a stop and go broiler to face on the ride home.

So instead of getting out on the weekends and riding, I totally flaked out last Saturday, but the previous Saturday, as well as yesterday, I was at my mom's house to engage in verbal badinage with the plumber/painter/electrician while helping to change out five existing ceiling fans, replace two ceiling fixtures, add a ceiling fan, and pull wire for recessed lighting that hopefully will get finished next Saturday.

Two Saturdays back, it was decent enough to take Riley to mom's and let him hang outside all day. Yesterday, the temp was forecast at 97, and it ended up being 98, with a heat index of 106, so the pup stayed home in the a/c.

Yesterday was also the day to pull wires in the attic. I didn't have a thermometer up there, but we estimate it was between 140 and 150 up there. I don't remember the last time I sweat that much. Not dampness, not perspiration, not your ordinary sweating. Three seconds up there and every pore was wide open, and it was hard to see with the drops flicking off your eyelashes. It was like being in cocoon of heat, all enveloping and all encompassing. Add to that dust from the cellulose insulation, tight spots accessible only to those who aren't claustrophobic, and stupid wall cavities filled with batts that prevent feeding wires in a civilized manner.

Today has been mostly spent in recovery, and my body hates me.

July 5 Ride

Yeah, not much on this one. A total of 60 miles, all on local roads, no pictures and my butt was sore when I got home. Yeesh.

Prolly need to get the chain adjusted. I'm hearing a crunchy noise right when I take off, that I'm hoping is slop from the chain. Hence my short ride.

Did see The A-Team, however. Definitely passable :)