Epic Journey #2 - Rough Draft

The countdown has begun to the next trip, this time in October, and this time to New England. The miles will be about 400 fewer, and the time will be one day shorter. Once again, I'll be stopping off to see friends and co-workers at branches (both current and former) for the company where I work, as well as seeing some old friends who relocated to Long Island four years ago.

The details are still a little fluid, but I should be leaving on a Friday morning, and staying in Martinsburg, WV, that night. A branch manager there has two guest rooms, and I plan to take the non-pink one :) The next day, I'm heading up to Long Island, where I will spend Saturday and Sunday. Monday morning, head through Lakeville, MA, to see folks from work, and end that day in Manchester, NH.

Tuesday, I head up to Waterville, ME, and see more work friends, before finishing the day in Mariaville, ME, at a 'cabin' on an acre with 200 feet of river frontage. A two story, three bedroom, screened in porch 'cabin.' This will be courtesy of good old Charlie (good morning, Charlie!) at the branch, who has the property for sale, and if it's still on the market in October, I'll be able to bunk there gratis. Depending on the route, I'd like to end up at the coast at some point. Bar Harbor is less than an hour from the cabin, which puts Acadia National Park in close reach, too.

The next morning, Wednesday, I'll make my way over to Montpelier, VT, and have my second hotel night (the first being Manchester on Monday). Thursday I'll be winding across upstate New York and ending near Rochester to stay with a former co-worker, her husband, and the pet mouse. Not a tame mouse, actually, but protected, nonetheless.

Friday may find me swinging up to Niagara Falls, since I'm that close, perhaps dropping in to Canada, depending on my mood. End of the day should find me in Solon, OH, with yet another pair of accommodating friends from work. Saturday morning I will leave from there to head back home, for a rather long day...about 600 miles. The first day of the trip will be just under 500 miles, and the other days average in the 250 mile range, with one as long as 340 miles. Comparing the day by day miles to the last trip, this one is much more balanced, and should allow for some good leaf watching, picture taking and lollygagging, if I so choose.

Preparations to be done will very possibly include the purchase of heated gloves, and another rain suit. Now is the time to find good deals on high tech long underwear. The weather is extremely variable up there...I highly doubt I'll see any snow, but I could see some pretty chilly temps. However, I could also see some nice 60s and 70s with an Indian Summer. The bike still needs to the odometer cluster replaced, but I may have that shortly rectified. I've been toying with the idea of upgrading the bike, but I'm not sold on that yet. Test rode a couple different options last week, but neither floated my boat. An upgrade would take some pretty serious machinations, some of which are not even in place yet, so I'll hold off on saying too much there.

That's about all of an update for now. I'm still in the middle of waiting to get the chain issue resolved from Kansas City, although I made some good progress last week. I think it'll end up working out, but it's just going slowly.

Ride On!

Friday, I started crunching numbers and figuring what I'll need for the next trip I've got in mind. Part of that included revisiting my budget, and deciding I'm actually going to have to start sticking to said budget in order to have savings up to where they should be before I leave. Sticking to that budget will require me to ride the bike pretty much everywhere I can and retiring my truck for the most part this summer. All in all, not a bad problem to have. This morning I rode to church and it was lovely (both the ride and the service). First time to get the mesh jacket out this year, and it was one of the most comfortable rides for the temps (upper 80s) that I've had yet. The pants I bought for the trip are mesh, and they are cooler to wear than jeans, even though they are a sun-sucking black.

For the past several weeks we've had some old fashioned weather patterns going through, with almost daily thunderstorms in the late afternoon, and today turned out to be no different. I decided to stick to my plan, and loaded up rain gear on the back of the bike when I left the house to go to church tonight. At the house, it was overcast, but not ominous. A mile from my house, the ominosity started to kick in. The only light(er) patch in the sky was behind me, over my house, and I was heading 14 miles east and a little south. Over there...towards that slate blue patch of clouds. I thought about putting on the rain gear then, but figured I'd wait and see. About two miles from the house, the pavement was wet from recent rain, but drying off, as it was by the time I got onto I-385. The car in front of me was kicking back some spray, so I got into the next lane, watching oncoming traffic for signs of rain ahead, as well as watching the clouds and road. Shortly after the next bridge, the road was probably 50% dry, no oncoming cars had on wipers, but the sky still looked portentous although no rain was coming down more than a mist. Beyond the following exit, the road was looking very wet, and I started seeing some wiper activity in the northbound lanes. Now the question was not if, but when.

There were only two overpasses left...I was over three quarters of the way to church, but that last quarter had the potential to be soggy. I opted for the second overpass, pulled over and started doing the raingear shuffle. While I was putting on the layers, a cruiser went past. Neither the rider or his passenger had any riding gear (helmet, jacket, pants, boots), much less rain gear. She was wearing a halter top and trying to hunker down behind him as best she could. I've not experienced it, but have heard that riding in rain is extremely painful, and if you've got drops of water hitting your bare skin at 60 miles per hour, yeah, I can see where it would hurt.

Finally got my silver space suit on and headed up to the Woodruff Road exit. About 45 feet beyond the cover of the changing station overpass, the rain started coming down in earnest...no more of that weenie misting we'd been having (owie for the cruiser folks). I rode the last three miles (and nine stoplights) to church, very glad I had my rain gear on. Did learn an important object lesson tonight. While my gloves do have gauntlets (a cuff that comes over the top of the jacket sleeve), in stop and go traffic they will work better if the gauntlet is tucked under the sleeve cuff. The rain was running down the sleeves of the jacket and into the gauntlet right near the end of the ride. The only part of me that got wet was just the underside of my wrist where that happened. Good to know for future rainy rides. (And not an issue on road trips, since the wind keeps the rain blowing away from the gauntlet.)

The other rain suit issue I'm discovering is the fact that the pants in my suit are too stinking short! I bought the size small of the suit since it fit while walking around in the store, but once they are put on over riding pants (bulkier than jeans) they hike up just a little bit, and then when you have to sit on the bike with knees bent, they ride up a little more. The elastic cuff holds them firmly in place, so when you get off the bike, they are firmly held...hiked up to mid calf , with two inches of riding pants sticking out over the exposed riding boot. Paints a pretty picture, I tell ya. I don't think I can buy the pants separate from the suit, so I might have to go test out some mediums and see if they give me enough leg length so I don't impersonate Urkel after riding through the rain. The rain protection of the pants is superb other than the length. After church, flicked them once and they were dry. Happily, the rain had moved on and there was a lovely sunset, perfect for riding off into. So I did.

Mountain Ride

Today I went for a ride up in the NC mountains with a fellow-rider from work named Martin. He was on a Suzuki DR-Z 400 SM (pretty sure) which is much more nimble in the mountain twisties than my bike. We headed up US276 to Caesar's Head, which is normally a pretty intense ride, but today there were lots of bicycles, slow cars, and even an emergency crew cutting up a tree that had fallen across the road, so not much time to get zippy. Once we regrouped at the top, we rode into Brevard, NC, behind some rather...um...SLOW riders (for lack of a better word). There were five in the group, mixing up everything from a Goldwing to a scooter to a Harley. Once we headed west on 64 and got to a decent passing zone, it was a relief to get past them.

From my house to the top of Caesar's Head, it's roughly 35 miles. I was surprised when I looked at my trip meter (reset with a fresh tank of gas this morning) and noticed I'd only gone 34 miles by the time I was well past Brevard. I looked again when passing Sapphire, NC. Still 34 miles. Hmm. Reset the meter and kept glancing down. Nada. My speedo and tach work fine, but the odometer (main and two trip meters) have all died. Since the speedometer is still working, it's not a cable issue, but likely to be an internal gizmo working issue, and from what TJ says, not many places will repair the gizmo parts. I've got to do some research to see what to get. We headed in to Cashiers, NC, to eat at a barbecue place that, evidently, many riders frequent. When we pulled into the parking lot, there might have been five other bikes there. When we left, there were well over 20.

No pics today, but here is a map of the route we took. Coming back down 288 to 130 was lovely: great sweeping curves and no traffic. Stopped for gas and bathroom break, and then on to 188 through Pumpkintown (yes), over to 276, hopped onto 414, and then Martin took 25 North and I went 25 South to our respective homes. Total for the day (my best guess) is about 140 miles. (I took a nap when I got home...yawrn!)

I've also got my sights on some of these for the upcoming, potential, might-happen, hope-so trip in October. (You know...it's just one more thing...)

I've got this itch...

Tentatively, there are now plans for a fall excursion, heading up into New England. I've got to check with folks along the route, to see if I can do some more mooching for overnight stays, but it's looking pretty good. Details will follow as arrangements solidify.

I'm still waiting to hear back from the folks in Kansas City. They weren't overly anxious to refund money, and are supposedly checking with the chain manufacturer to see if there will be a warranty they can claim on it. I did pick the bike back up from TJ's shop after work today...when he wrote up the ticket, he charged for installing the new chain and checking a couple of items. Nothing on there for coming out to pick me up north of the next town on a Saturday (and taking me home). Not only is he a good mechanic, he's a good friend.

Tonight was the first ride since Saturday, and it was just the mile and a half it took to get home. Once I was home, I changed clothes and headed back out with the Riley dog to walk back to the shop and pick up the truck. Had to go through a little bit of a ghetto section, but with the 125 pound dog with me, the worst I got was someone calling across the street that, "That sure is a big dog!" I agreed and kept walking. Made it to the shop in 25 minutes. The rain's come in earnest for the evening, and is supposed to linger through tomorrow. However, Saturday is looking pretty good, and a co-worker is planning on riding up to the mountains for some barbecue on Saturday, and I think I'll be joining him :)

Day 10 - But Wait...There's More!

So here it was. The sun had dawned on the last day of my trip, and I was heading home! The thought of that was exciting, even if the thought of dragging myself out of bed wasn't so exciting. The hotel alarm clock was evilly set for 5:30 a.m., and I hadn't thought to check it before going to bed. I fumbled through a couple of snooze setting on it before figuring out how to turn it off.

An hour later, I thought I might get up, but that thought proved to be short-lived. Eight o'clock rolled around, and I finally forced myself to get up. Got stuff packed, wiped off and polished the bike and helmet, checked tire pressure and used the last dying gasps in the can of chain lube. Once the bike was packed, I knew I wanted a decent breakfast so I could push on for a full day. Wouldn't you know it, there was a Cracker Barrel just across the interstate! I got over there shortly before 9:30 (hoo boy, this was going to be a long day), and can't say the service was exactly speedy. Did manage to get out of there and on the road by 10:02 a.m.

As I've said before, I like to try to find someone on the road to ride with, and this morning there was a white Toyota Tundra with NC plates that was keeping a rather lively pace, and I decided to keep time with him. After 150 miles, my small gas tank was starting to gasp, and I had to flip over to reserve fuel. The next exit showing a gas station was three miles away, so I dropped out of the pace, and got off the interstate. When I got to the station, every one of the unleaded fuel pumps had bags over them, and signs saying "Out of Fuel". Rawr!

I headed back out on the interstate, figuring I had at least 20 miles worth of reserve left, and was happy when the next exit had the desired Shell station. I put in about 4.3 gallons, which averaged out to only 46 mpg, which was on the low side. I thought it might be due to the lively pace with the truck, but when I was leaving the station, I saw that my choke was opened up about a quarter of a turn beyond where it should be for normal running. Oh great! I closed it back down and headed back onto the road.

By now I was south of Lexington, KY, and started going on some really nice mountain roads. Up ahead, I saw a guy on a white bike, and as I got closer, I saw it was a Kawasaki ER-6n. We teamed up, and the next 90 miles melted. The roads really had some nice curves through there, and my legs are weary tonight from holding on...it was like a ThighMaster on drugs (Suzanne Somers, eat your heart out!) He pulled off about 20 miles before Knoxville, tossing a wave my way, and I filtered onto I-640 with all of the other little ants heading towards Asheville. I stopped at the Gatlinburg turnoff and fueled, took a bathroom break, and ate an ice cream bar.

This was the last push. I was only about 120 miles away from home. It was getting so close I could taste it! Often, you let down your guard when you get close to the end, and I made sure I was just as alert at the end as I'd been for the previous 3,000 miles. I really wish I had a video camera for the bike to ride those first 20 miles from the Tennessee border into NC. There are some super curves through there, and two tunnels to go through. I did succumb and honk my horn while going through the second tunnel. (It's a 139 decibel air horn for those of you who might have missed that detail...loudest thing on the market.) The skies were a beautiful blue with light clouds puffing here and there, and my wrists were getting a top coat baked on. I did put on sunscreen this morning, but they're pretty raw right now.

I didn't get many pictures on this last day, since it was mainly business (ride to get home!) but I did stop at the SC border sign :) From that point, it's about 32 miles to my house. There's a steep grade down the mountain for the first 10 or so miles, and then a country highway heading in to Travelers Rest from the north and down to Greenville. I was making super good time, and even with starting as late as I did, I was on track to make it home by 5:30. Yee haw!

The first stoplight when heading back into civilization was red, and I was the first one in line, next to a convertible Toyota Solara. The light changed and I gave it throttle up the hill, zooming through first, second, third, CRUNCH! and then lost power. Down shifted, but nothing was going to the back wheel. I was able to coast to a turning area in the median, and stopped the bike. I got off to look at the chain, because I had a sneaking suspicion...I looked, leaned, looked some more and saw a rear sprocket with no trace of a chain. A pickup pulled up beside me to inform me the chain was laying back at the other end of the median. I was 12 (t-w-e-l-v-e) miles from my house. Did I mention TWELVE?

Jump back in time with me for a minute. When I was due to get the bike back from the body shop, my friend was going to bring the bike down to Greenville on a trailer from Rock Hill to deliver it. He was going to be getting down on the late side, so I'd talked with TJ about the possibility of meeting us that evening to put the bike in his shop. He agreed and gave me his personal cell phone number to let him know how things progressed that evening. Turns out the bike wasn't delivered until the next morning, but I still had the cell phone number in my phone.

Once I'd walked back and retrieved the chain, and settled down by my crippled ride, I proceeded to call that cell phone number, praying that he'd answer. On about the fourth ring, he did, and I told him my tale of woe. He happened to be working in his garage right then, which is about 15 miles away, and was able to hook up a trailer and come out to pick me up. (Have I mentioned that I love having a good mechanic? Thanks again, TJ :) In the meantime, I had a couple of people check in on me, and another rider stopped to see if I needed help. He was a bike mechanic from Florida, riding a BMW R1200 GS Adventure. He looked at the chain and said the master link had most likely been incorrectly installed, since it was patently missing from the remaining chain. I told him I had someone coming by with a trailer, and he offered his condolences. He also offered me a beer :) I'm a bit of a beer snob, so instead of asking what he had, I thanked him but told him I'd pass. It was pretty funny in retrospect...I can imagine what TJ would think as he drives up to get my bike and I'm waiting, beer in hand! He did show up shortly and we loaded up the bike, strapped it down and hauled it back into town. It was rather an inglorious ending to the grand saga, but rather fitting in its own way.

On Monday I plan to be talking to the guys in Kansas City who installed the chain last Friday (about 2,200 miles ago). The bike made it 488 miles today before throwing in the towel, and I'm glad it waited until I was that close to home before kicking. The final tally for the trip came to 3,176 miles in eight days of travel (two of those days being less than 150 miles).

In retrospect, would I do it again? To quote my friend in Fargo...you betcha! In a heartbeat! In a skinny minute! Would I have done anything differently? I'd probably want to have the seat modified for long distance travel. The stock seat can be brutal after a few hundred miles. I also might opt for a narrower CrampBuster (a throttle assist device - earlier referred to as a throttle rocker - but ThrottleRocker is a trademarked name :) thanksabunch, Dennis!). The one I used was wide enough that I had to hold my hand at an odd angle for in-town riding unless I rotated it out of the way, and my throttle hand thumb is giving me an occasional complaint. The only other occasional item of discomfort was just the low seat height (which translates into limited leg space). I've got a 34" inseam, and every once in a while my knees needed more stretch room than they had.

Also, to those who've read through here, drop me an email at k_skellenger@yahoo.com. I'd love to hear who you are and what you think. There were several hits from countries across the globe, and I'd be curious to know how you found about about this tale. I'll be somewhat at a loss when I don't have a daily adventure to compile (although I shall give the final update on the chain, and any other side effects from the trip).

I do have a sneaking suspicion, however, this won't be the last long distance trip for one particular rambler :)

Day 9 - Heading South Again

This morning saw a late start for my ride, since I was up late last night, tirelessly editing the day's blog entry for all both of my fans! (Yes, I said all both.) Alarm clock went off at 6:45, and I think I finally decided to fully become conscious around 7:45. Today was going to need to be a high mileage day, but I figured I wouldn't do any good if I was trying to get out there while still groggy. It's interesting how packing things up in the morning is such a time-consuming ritual. You can't just toss everything together...there's no space for error, so each morning is like a new Tetris puzzle to reassemble. I was finally heading out of my room to load the bike around 9, but after that still needed to grab a bite for breakfast.

I got a welcome surprise in the dining area by seeing Joan and her mother there, just finishing up a bite before going shopping. We got to chat a bit more and I grabbed a picture with her before heading out. Finally started the ride by going back over the big bridge at 9:40 a.m. On the way out, a school bus full of little kiddies was waving at me as I rode by. The big, bad biker lady with her smoked shield on her helmet gave them all a big wave back. Too bad they couldn't see my grin :)

And across Wisconsin I went. The trees just to the east of La Crosse stand as thick as the hair on a dog's back. The composition of them was different than back home, but it reminded me a lot of some of the NC mountains around Murphy or Franklin where trees are practically impenetrable. As I got past Wisconsin Dells and over to Madison, it reminded me some of Virginia. I thought I had a pretty good idea of the different parts of this country, but there's so much more out there to explore! Around the Dells, I started riding behind a pretty sharp looking Cadillac CTS (black, tinted, painted wheels) and that made the miles melt away. I like to try to find a buddy to ride with, usually. It keeps things interesting. Sadly, he was able to go more than 180 miles on a tank, and I had to leave him to fill up, and put on some rain gear. The ground where I stopped to fuel showed evidence of recent rain, and the air smelled like it, but I never saw it. I was about 120 miles north of Chicago when I stopped, and I called my buddy at the branch to find out what the weather was doing there. Cloudy, but no rain, so I just put on my rain jacket to give a little break from the wind, but didn't put any covers on the luggage.

My trip had me running through Chicago, and part of me wasn't thrilled with the idea of riding through a city with an urban population of over 9 million folks, but another part of me actually was thrilled with that very same idea. I wanted to be able to go through the city proper (since, after all, it's not every day I'm riding my motorcycle through Chicago), but not have to sacrifice half a day to do it. I got directions to Soldier's Field from Ray, my branch buddy (who also happens to be a CDL driver), as well as an alternate route to take if the traffic was too bad and I decided to skip the photo op. Joan had commented that if the traffic was moving at least 35 mph by the time I-290 split off from I-90, I'd be ok to head downtown. If it was only doing 5-10 mph, skip it and go around.

When I got to the split, the traffic was whizzing along, and continued to move briskly for another few miles, until we got around O'Hare. I was roughly six miles away from downtown, and when the sign said it was estimating 77 minutes to get there, it wasn't far off. Now, I've driven through Atlanta in my truck when it's been hairy, but today was that, magnified by a factor of 73. It was Friday afternoon at 2 p.m. in the third largest urban population in the US (after New York and L.A.) The lane radar had to be on ultra high alert and I was very diligent about defending my space. (Never had to use my horn, though :) My directions took me in to the city on I-90, getting off at Roosevelt and heading over to Lake Shore Drive. As rough as it was to get there, and including the hour and a half of driving warfare, it was SO worth it to be able to see the city along Lake Michigan. It was exactly what I was hoping to see :) Also, one of the obvious upsides to riding a bike came into play...you can park it on a sidewalk when all of the parking meters for cars are bagged :)) [and thanks again to the lady who took my pic with the bike...hope you enjoy the blog!]

While at my photo site, I called Ray again to find out the best way back out of the city from where I was. He mentioned something about Ryan somebody being really bad at night, and I wasn't sure what he meant. Later, I found out he was referring to the Dan Ryan Expressway, which was also I-94. He'd told me to go 90/94 all the way to I-80 and then across to I-65. When I was going along, I-90 and I-94 split into two separate routes, one being the Dan Ryan Expressway, and the other being the Chicago Skyway. I had to make up my mind pretty quickly which of the routes to take, and I opted for I-90 (the Skyway), which turned out to be wonderful. Even looking at the map tonight, that was just the perfect route. I left my downtown vista at 3:50 and within 25 minutes, I was back to going 70 mph, which is pretty amazing. Within 45 minutes, I was on I-65, heading south to Indianapolis. Ray had estimated it would take an hour to an hour and a half to get to I-65, so I was tickled to have chosen that route. Part of the Skyway went over this enormous bridge, and I probably would have enjoyed the view more if I wasn't trying to anticipate huge winds that usually accompany bridges like that. There weren't any stiff winds, thankfully, and the little bit of the view I did enjoy was just beautiful.

Once I got onto I-65, it was another 140 miles to go to reach Indianapolis. My (pipe dream) goal for today was to ride just past Cincinnati, which is another 100 miles beyond Indy, but that didn't take into account the physical and mental drain of riding for over two hours in Friday Chicago traffic. As I was making my way south, the clouds were looking very moist up ahead, and again the ground showed evidence of recent rains. I started to notice fatigue creeping in, and realized I'd never had a lunch break for the day. Breakfast was an English muffin with peanut butter and honey, and since then I'd had a Zone bar, a bottle of water and a handful of M&Ms. It was now pushing 7:30 (6:30 to my still Central time zoned self) and I decided to stop to eat at the first Cracker Barrel I saw. Turns out the next one was only five miles down the road, but those five miles were probably some of the longest ones of the trip so far.

When I sat down to eat, I was pretty wiped out. I'd only had one small cup of coffee in the morning, so I got a Coke and stocked up on sugar and caffeine. I had a grilled chicken and pineapple salad that was pretty good, and by the time I left, I felt almost human again. It's amazing what a little food will do for you!

Indianapolis was now only 60 miles away, and I rode in while a beautiful sunset was being painted across the sky. I wanted to get out of the city, heading to Cincinnati before calling it a night, and I once again had to stop for gas. After I'd fueled, it was past twilight, and I got back into traffic for a few more miles. I was feeling pretty good, but knew I didn't want to ride until I felt tired, because that's too late. The next exit was in Shelbyville, IN, and had a Super 8, and although it was only 85 miles shy of my original goal of Cincinnati, I decided to be discrete and valorous.

Once I got settled in my room, the true state of my weariness kicked in, and I was very glad to have made the decision to stop. The motel is a little interesting, but I think it will provide what I need for the night. Today was 513 miles, and I've another approximate 500 miles to push through tomorrow to get me back home. Might be another late-ish start, but I don't have to go through Chicago, so I think I'll be fine :) One more day, and this ramble will be done.

Day 8 - Motorcycle - Heal Thyself!

If you needed a sandwich for that other long post, you might as well order out pizza and put on your fuzzy bunny slippers before reading this one.

Got to bed last night around 1 a.m. and woke up to a beautiful morning a little before 7. I lounged some, checking a couple of websites, sending a couple emails, and then got everything tidied up. I didn't know if I was going to be spending another night in Lake City, or if I'd be heading down the road, but I went ahead and packed everything up so it was ready to load on the bike. I put everything back in the Jeep before going in to grab a bite of breakfast from the continental buffet (their toaster does English muffins beautifully!).

I'd just finished an orange and was rinsing my hands when my phone rang. It was Dennis, calling to see what we were going to do. He said the sight glass now appeared to be full of oil, and he asked to take the bike out for a spin to see if he could notice anything. When I got up to the house, he'd just gotten back. He said it ran ok, but it didn't seem like it had a lot of power. I had to chuckle. For a man who has a Ducati Monster S2R, my leetle bike might seem a bit underpowered. I rode it down the highway for a couple of miles and torqued the snot out of the throttle, and it ran like nobody's business. I did a u-turn and went back to his house (up the washboard gravel drive...nothing like a little off-roading in a Ninja :) and from there I followed him to the bike shop he'd mentioned the night before.

When I re-read my post from last night, I must put in a point of clarification. Dennis did not imply that the shop might try to pull a fast one unless he intervened. He was just trying to reassure someone from out of town that the folks from the little town were there to help out. (Please also remember that it was somewhere north of midnight when I finished that entry).

The aforementioned bike shop was a Honda dealership in Frontenac, MN, which is adjacent to Lake City. Chris Wise came up front and listened to my tale of woe. The main thing we were wanting to do was to get an oil change to homogenize the oil (since it was only pasteurized at this point) and to see how much oil was actually in the bike. When I rode it the seven or eight miles to the shop, the bike never hesitated. Chris went to the back to clear out a work space for the bike and took it right back. The filters he had for the Hondas were interchangeable with mine, so it was only a few minutes for him to get the oil changed. He drained over five quarts of oil from the bike, so it hadn't leaked any (and got majorly overfilled the night before).

While the bike was in the back, I chatted with Dennis some, asking about his business. Ever heard of HoneyCrisp apples? Up until probably 2007, his orchards (Pepin Heights) had the dominant market share for this apple, and have only recently been displaced by growers in Washington state who are planting trees by the square mile. You know how it is when someone is really passionate about their work and you can tell it interests them and they know all the nooks and crannies? That was Dennis Courtier...he loves his work, and I learned more about apples this morning than I thought I ever could. Everything from business models, to propagation methods, to the history behind the orchard he bought in 1978 (it had been in the family, and the sentinel line of trees forming the windbreak on top were planted decades ago by his maternal grandfather). I never knew that apple varieties were considered intellectual property, and that trees that produce particular varieties cannot be called by the same name as the fruit. I never knew that if you plant a seed from a particular apple, you will not grow the same type of apple the seed came from. Root stock and grafting. About traditional orchards, planting 40 trees to the acre, and newer methods which use a dwarf tree that tops out at about eight or nine feet, maximizes sun exposure on the leaves (and planting rows north to south to equalize that exposure as the day progresses), and allows for somewhere around 600 trees per acre. About using minimal pesticides, and being certified as sustainable agriculture. About realizing the ecosystem that goes with the trees, and mowing ever other row between the trees every other time, so there is always some home for the beneficial bugs who like the tall grass.

Dennis went off to his office while I waited for the bike to be finished up, which was only another 15 minutes or so. Chris rode the bike back around to the side of the building, as much puzzled now as before. It was running fine, with no evident leaks or major problems. The consensus was that maybe I just got some bad gas, or some kind of gunk in a fuel line that blew through, or the vent got temporarily clogged. I'd been riding in rain for 60 miles as well, so there's the possibility that a monkey wrench magically appeared with that as well. I went up front to settle up, and he charged me only for the filter and oil, donating his labor to the trip, for which I thanked him (then and now :). If you're ever going through Frontenac, MN, be sure to stop in and say hi!

After I got the bike back, I rode down to the Pepin Heights main office to get my luggage back and Dennis drove me up to the orchard atop the bluff so I could get some fabulous shots for the blog, as well as to give me the insider's tour. I have a bit of a green thumb, and love being around people who know plants, and I like to pick their brains and ask questions. It was like I was on the world's best field trip, and frankly, I would have missed out on a rare treat had my bike not broken down :)

When the tour was done, Dennis had to go consult with someone about a few trees, and I readied the bike for the next leg of the trip. I got a sympathetic ear from Pennie, the office manager (who also rides) while tying up my last loose ends. Throughout my adventures in Lake City, I also got to make another friend, named Rose. She is Mr. Courtier's twelve year old Springer Spaniel, and if you looked up the definition of sweetheart in the dictionary, you'd see her picture in Technicolor. When we were touring the orchards, she rode along in the Jeep, in the little Rose-sized cave down in the passenger's side foot area. I think she's only known major affection in her life and it shows. Be a good girl, Rosie!

Once everything was sorted back out on the bike, I pointed the front tire south and pushed on down Highway 61. Today, the weather was gorgeous. A little cool, blue skies and puffy clouds. I was able to enjoy the ride to La Crosse thoroughly, and I made it to the hotel by about 2:15. I was enjoying a night at the Courtyard Marriot courtesy of my brother's frequent business travel with them, and the room was a nice suite with a king sized bed and jacuzzi tub in the corner. I noticed the room faced downtown La Crosse, and a bit hesitant (but figured you don't know unless you ask), I called downstairs to ask if there was a room with a river view I might be able to switch to. The lady who answered the phone said she would check and call right back. Call back, she did, saying they could switch me out, but the room would likely be a little smaller and not have a microwave. I said that was perfectly fine, since I wasn't likely to bring anything back on my motorcycle that would need to be microwaved.

With that statement, a new friendship sprang up between me and Joan, who has ridden for the past 30 years :) I tell you, these biker folks are everywhere! Of course, I had to regale her with tales of my most recent adventures, and she was all excited for me. This turns out to be a very bike-friendly Marriot. They even keep a box out front with pucks cut from plywood for side stands, and rags to wipe bikes down in the morning. In fact, my bike is currently parked under the portico out front, about 25 feet from the main entrance. Joan's husband is named Harley, and he also rides one, and Joan rides a Honda. Hiawatha!

While we were out front, talking about the bike, she asked who I knew in La Crosse, and I mentioned where I worked, and she (as well as the hotel's manager) just happens to know someone pretty well who works there, and was able to give me directions to get to our branch. Crazy! I rode out to the branch and met some folks I'd talked to on the phone before, as well as some new folks. One guy named Jerry had heard about my trip, and was just tickled to hear about the journey. I don't know if he was more enthusiastic, or if I was! You just don't get the same kind of vacation in a car, I tell you!

The branch closed down at 4:30 and I got a quick picture with my curmudgeon of choice (who always has to mention something about me being CORPORATE whenever I call for something). From there, I went up Losey Boulevard to Main Street, headed right and up to Grandad Bluff, which gives you a shot over the whole valley. It really reminded me of some of the nicer parts of the NC moutains up there. Lots of trees that you can just lose yourself in, and these country roads that tantalize. I couldn't ride far, because I still hadn't filled up since the stop south of St. Paul, and didn't want to get out in the middle of nowhere and be stranded by something as stupid as running out of gas. Back in town, I went the other direction on Main Street to the hotel, and had to stop for one house shot. Joan later said it belonged to a mayor of the town at one point. It's a biggie!

I got back around 6:15 and had some free nachos out in the gazebo by the river, enjoying the sights and sounds. When I was heading back up to my room, Joan was heading out and asked if her directions got me to my branch. We talked for a little, and I asked about local eating spots and if it was ok to walk around down there. I wanted to get a shot of the world's largest six pack, which was about five blocks away. I'd had a margarita with my chips and was done riding for the night, so Joan offered to drive me down there for a quick photo op, and I rushed up to my room to get my camera. I got my picture, and then she mentioned another oddity of La Crosse, which is a huge Indian statue down where three rivers (Black, La Crosse, and Mississippi) converge. I took the picture and then noticed the nameplate. One of my pet words is 'Hiawatha!' I use it as my own exclamation to express dismay, excitement, amazement, disgust...it's a pretty flexible word. It was a nice conclusion to the day, for the name of the statue to be...Hiawatha!

Joan dropped me back at the hotel, recommending a local restaurant that delivered, and I took her up on her suggestion...thanks, ma'am! Piggy's was quite good! I settled in to my room with its grand view of the Mississippi River. It turns out they upgraded me to the presidential suite, which I'm pretty sure has more square footage than my house. (That's not an exaggeration, either....very small house :) Tried out the jacuzzi tub to make sure it works, and I'm happy to report all of the jets work nicely.

Tomorrow starts the push for home. I've got to go through Chicago and would like to make it as far as Cincinnati, OH. That's about 575 miles. A little strong, but doable. When my directions were sucked out of my bag in Iowa, that included some notes I had about getting into downtown Chicago for some photo ops. I'll have to call my driver buddy tomorrow who lives in the city and have him go over those instructions again :) It's good to know people!