Out-of-order dirt riding post

(There is video of all this, but youtube is being bitchy right now, so it'll come in a bit)

I've been in Tucson since Saturday after coming down Rt 191 through Apache National Forest (Holy shit, that road!!!) into the low desert. Sunday, Beck was great enough to rustle up a TW200 for me, and and we along with some other friends all went off for a day of trails!

We all met up at a gas station fairly close to the trailhead early in the morning. It was Becktastic on her DRZebra, myself on a TW200, two others on DRZs, and the the red bike was a . . . uh . . . we're not sure. But any of them were better options then V-Stroms! :D



The TW200 was a tiny bike to begin with, and my giant yellow ass crammed onto it was a hilarious proposition indeed. RACE TUCK!!!



And off to the trails with us!



It was my and another guy's first time ever riding dirt, so Beck and the others promised to take it easy on us and not take us down anything too difficult. Even given the easy trails, it wasn't long before the first wipeout of the day, which gave us a five minute break while the crashee re-attached his luggage rack and seat.



The TW200, while tiny and fat-tired compared to everything else, was a far cry better then my V-strom would have been at this, even with knobbies. It took me a while to loosen up and get used to the idea of sliding around, but after a while I got used to the idea of "if anything goes wrong, GAS IT"



I guess compared to what Beck and the others usually ride, these are easy trails, but some of them did give me pause for thought of "Um, really? Cuz last time I tried to do this, I almost died"



Amazingly though, I only fully crashed once! The rear end of the bike stepped out, and I panicked and ran off the trial. I could have stopped and gotten back on in a calm and controlled fashion, but that's just not my style! No, I tried to ride through a couple of small trees, and that didn't quite work out.



Ah well. Bike was fine, as was I!

Damn do I look funny sitting on that thing.



Given that we had a pretty high n00b percentage, we ended up stopping for a lot of breaks.


(Do I look awesome in that yellow suit or what?!)


(Not that I'm vain and like pictures of myself, or anything)

The one and only Becktastic! Who did a very good job of not complaining too much about all the stops us newbies were taking. :)



We stopped for lunch at this gas station that had a steakhouse next to it.



Beck was nice enough to continue taking many pictures of me in my awesome high-viz!



We, being poor adventure riders, were happy to make do with gas station food, but the steakhouse next door was filled with the chrome army. Most of it was the usual Heritage Classic Softglide Freedom Custom American Electratail stuff, but this . . . none of us knew what to make of this.



CHOPPER CHOPPER CHOPPER CHOPPER JESSE CUSTOM JAMES CHOPPER RAKE CHOPPER CHROME CUSTOM DRAG BARS CHROME CUSTOM CHOPPER CHOPPER FORKS THAT GO ALL THE WAY TO STURGIS

How the fuck do you actually ride that thing? And just . . . why?

After lunch we went back to the trails, and at one point the other n00b and I traded bikes. I think 5'7" him appreciated the little TW200 more then he let on, he had dropped his DRZ a bunch of times just due to being inseam challenged. And the DRZ did fit me pretty damn well!

Unfortunately, the TW200 didn't have the grip or cornering ability that he was used to, and on a twisty gravel road something happened and he ended up with the bike on top of him. He was mostly okay, but his ankle was pretty banged up and sore. We didn't want him to get hurt any worse by trying to ride with a bum foot, so we took smooth gravel home.



All in all, I'd like to think I wasn't as bad as Beck was expecting me to be :D It would have been a disaster if I'd tried to take my Wee, even if I had put knobbies on it.

Quick update from Tucson

Quick update, I'm crashing on a friend's couch in Tucson right now, we spent all of Sunday out riding trails. She rustled up a TW200 for me to ride, and then for a short period later in the day I tried out someone's DRZ400 E.

I properly wiped out once, and got stopped rather suddenly by a tree at another point, but amazingly I never fully ate shit. I got most of my stupidity on GoPro, so there will be some video coming at some point.

And now I'm figuring out what to do next. Beck has tempted me with thoughts of killing time until she has 4 days off for Thanksgiving, and heading down to Mexico for a bit. I knew there was a reason I brought my passport with me . . . hrm, decisions, decisions. That would mean I wouldn't get to spend much if any time in California, and might get back to Chicago a bit later then I thought, but . . . Adventure!

Austin

Austin was to be a bit of a rest for me. I was going to stay with an old friend Raven and his wife Kat on their ST1300, as well as see some other friends and do some maintenance on the bike. The front tire was due for replacement, the rear wheel bearings were shot, and it was time for an oil change.

I got into Austin mid-day on Saturday and linked up with my friend, where our first order of business was to get the front wheel off so we could get the tire changed. For some reason, motorcycle shops in Austin aren't open Sunday & Monday, so we wanted to get the wheel to the shop before they closed that day. Some kitty litter helped balance the bike on the center stand to raise the front end.



After getting the front wheel and it's new rubber back on, it was time to attack the rear of the bike. The old bearings were beyond fucked, and is probably why the rear tire was worn out so quickly. There was so much play in them it was unreal.



Aside from my friend Raven and his wife, I also needed to use this time to see an old friend of mine Megan, who is the end result of someone cross-breeding a kitten with a cupcake.



So Sunday, we all piled onto the bikes for a day trip into Texas hill country. Raven and his wife on their ST1300, and Megan and I on my V-Strom



Megan was on camera duty, which she used to take pictures of everything she could see. Which was mostly the back of my head.



But then she discovered that she could take pictures of herself in my rear-view mirror



We got out of Austin and headed west, to where there's some elevation change, twisty roads and general prettiness.



One of the roads had a lot of low areas that flood regularly, and this one neat water crossing that looked to always be flooded



Unfortunately . . . this is where things went wrong :(



It turns out that the constant flow of water had polished the concrete to a mirror-smooth finish, and there was a good coating of algae growing on it. I know people often use "slick as ice" as a term to describe anything slippery, but that is not an exaggeration at all in this case. It really was SO slick that it was difficult to walk on, let alone control a motorcycle over.

Raven & Kat went through first at barely 5-10mph, and I was only about 20 feet behind them when all of the sudden the back of the ST slid out to one side, then snapped back to the other side and went down, dumping Raven and Kat off and spinning 180 degrees to face the other way.



Of course, I was right behind them, and through only dumb luck was able to avoid them and keep my Wee upright. And I only BARELY kept it up, the bike was sliding around all over the place under me and I was just a split second from dumping it.

Raven at Kat were a little bruised, but okay. Kat is still recovering from a broken shoulder she suffered a few months ago as a result of a wipeout on her GS650, but fortunetly there didn't seem to be any more damage. They both landed on their elbows and shoulders, and it's likely that the armor in their jackets saved them both from painful injuries. [b]Get good gear, and ALWAYS wear it.[/b]

Raven was able to pick it back up himself (how the hell did he do that with a 700lb bike?), and at least get it out of the road.



Of course, to add insult to injury, just after we moved it, some old guy on a Goldwing rolled right through like it was nothing. Maybe we just suck at motorcycles.

We then set about what any good motorcyclist does after they wipe out; taking pictures of everything around us.



Megan and I discovered that with a little bit of a run, we could go sliding for quite a ways on the super-slick pavement. So we did, because we are both very mature like that.


(Damn do I look cool in that suit or what?! :D)

Anyway, after we got the OMGCRAAAAASH adrenalin out of our systems, we carried on.



It just wouldn't be a motorcycle trip if we didn't stop for ice cream!



And then booze at this little local winery that Raven and Kat both like a lot.


(That's actually a lousy picture of all three of them, but Megan's deer-in-the-headlights facial expression is just too adorable to not post)

By the time we got back to Austin it was dark, but we were all still not ready to stop riding, so we headed out for some BBQ!



Mmmmm, meat.

Raven and I's day wasn't quite over yet. We dropped off the ladies, and then we headed out to an IHOP to meet another gooney friend, Korwen, for a few hours of swapping travel and vehicle stories, and probably annoying the waiter that we spend hours there and ordered nothing but a few cups of hot chocolate. But hey, isn't that what IHOP is for?


Raven and Korwen being suave and cool, and me being . . . me.

I decided that I needed to spend one more day in Austin, mostly just to hang out with Megan some more. She and I had actually met 7 years ago at a Rennisance Fair (Hey, shut up. It's where all the hot nerd girls hang out), and for some reason have managed to stay in very regular e-mail contact for the whole time. This was only the second time in the last 7 years that we'd gotten face-to-face time, and dammit we were going to make the most of it.

We ended up hanging out at this weird little quirky coffee shop that seemed to be a destination for all the hipsters of the city, Spider House I think it was called. Either way, they had tasty natchos!



And I kept trying to take sneeky photos of Megan, but she kept noticing and making funny faces to screw it up.



Anyway, we were there talking for like 8 hours, occasionally pestering our waiter for drinks and munchies. I felt sorry for staying there so long, so I ended up giving her a $15 tip on a $35 bill. Hopefully that made up for it?

Anyway, that was about the extent of my time in Austin. It was great being able to see my friends again, even if I wasn't QUITE able to convince Raven to quit his job, pack his bike up and follow me west.

Although I did see this going out of town.



*giggle* Oh, I'm such a grown-up.

I'm not going to bother talking extensively about Deals Gap. We all know it, many of us have ridden it, and the rest of us want to ride it. Last time I came through it was on my Virago, and now with a slightly more sporty bike and some track days under my belt, I wanted to give it another shot.

Even though Deals Gap specifically is famous for it's twists, the whole area for miles in any direction is full of sportbike roads, and great views.





I had planned on linking up with a goon at the resort, but I arrived the better part of two hours late due to being delayed by the construction on the Blue Ridge Parkway. We chatted a while, and I took the luggage and hardbags off the Wee to go and have some fun.

And I promptly turned in what is probably one of the sloppiest runs ever seen on the Gap.

I'd honestly forgotten just how scary that road actually is, especially when you don't know it. This combined with the fact that I'd already done 300 miles or so that day made me all over the place. I was tired and sore and just a mess. I was on and off the gas in the middle of corners, I was completely crossed up, I was over the DY a number of times and was generally a squiddy disaster waiting to happen. After the first run, my goon friend (appropriately) chastised me for being a moron, and I at least slowed the fuck down and just tried to enjoy the road. At least as best you can, even with little traffic and no cops, the road still makes me shiver. And with no leaves on the trees, you could really see just how far down the cliff you can fall if you fuck something up.



I very much did not want to end up adding to the collection on the Tree of Shame.



Whenever someone crashes their bike on the road, they are required by tradition to leave a part of their bike in the tree. Many of the bits of plastic and metal have short descriptions of the event written on them, and a disturbing amount say "RIP"



We spent that night at the resort, where I introduced my dad to the series "The Long Way Round". I know he keeps insisting that he's fine with bicycles, but I SWEAR I'm going to get him on a motorcycle someday.



The next day dawned cold, and drizzly. Looking at the radar there was rain in almost all directions, so there wasn't much choice but to gear up and deal with it.



The goal was to make it over to the start of the Natchez Trace Parkway, which starts just south of Nashville and would run almost all the way down to the coast. There wasn't a whole lot in the way of great riding to get there, and even then it was too wet and cold to enjoy it much anyway. We burned miles west on smaller roads, starting mostly dry but hitting more and more patches of rain, until finally it was just a constant heavy rain. Didn't bother taking any pictures of it, because what motorcyclist really wants to look at pictures of cold rain?

We did stop at a little diner place for breakfast at around 11am. This place exuded sophistication and class, as indicated most strongly by the fact that their idea of napkins was a roll of paper towels on every table.



Mmm, calories!

That night we stayed in some motel that looked like it was going to be a gross fleabag, but was surprisingly clean given the low rate. The next day dawned much nicer, cool and sunny, and we headed onto the Natchez Trace Parkway.



This parkway roughly traces the route of one of the common trails used by Native Americans to travel from the gulf coast up into the midwest. It's not particularly mountainous, nor does it have any of the twists of the Blue Ridge Parkway, but it's a wonderful road none the less.



The road is incredibly peaceful, spending most of it's time in the forest, and while it's not twisty at all, rarely is it ever straight and spends most of it's time very slowly winding it's way over gentle hills and through the beautiful fall trees. Occasionally it pops out into clearings of farms or grasslands, before sliding back through clumps of trees.



It was so incredibly peaceful. No billboards, no towns, little traffic, few exits, nothing to break the serenity save for the occasional scenic view or informational/historic pull off.

It was also one of the smoothest roads I have EVER been on, especially the northern bits part. Not a single ripple, crack, NOTHING at all. It was almost unsettling just how completely smooth the bike was, it felt like you were riding along on a cloud, you couldn't feel the road under you. It was amazing. I think this road would be perfect to take a literbike on and blast along at 150mph. Enough changes in direction to be interest, but never any real corners, excellent sight lines at all times, and buttery smooth pavement.

One of the informational pull-offs advertized a section of the origional Natchez Trace. Modern engineering standards meant that it wasn't possible to follow the origional route exactly for many sections, but there were some little gravel road bits that followed the path as closely as possible.





And the nice thing about having a chase vehicle is you have someone to act as camera bitch :)



We stopped in some little town just off the Parkway for lunch at a buffet, that was actually really good considering it only cost $6. Not included is a picture of the enormous family of hambeasts that was sitting at the table next to us. I couldn't get a good enough sneaky shot.



My dad was out of vacation time, so at this point he had to turn back north. We said our goodbys, and as I was backing out of the parking space . . .



Thanks, dad. Thanks for your first reaction being to grab the camera, rather then help me wake the bike up from it's little nap.

I headed down the parkway for another few hours, and once the shadows started getting long I looked for someplace to camp. I spied what looked like a small trail leading off into the forest and followed it with . . . predictably stupid results.



GODDAMIT IF BRUTE FORCE DOESN'T WORK YOU'RE NOT USING ENOUGH.

Eventually I got the bike back there, and set up for the night.



Getting the bike back out in the morning didn't go too well, either.



I road the rest of the Trace that day, ending in the town of Natchez where I got a pretty damn great pizza at a little italian place. It was so filling that I was only able to finish half of a fairly small pizza, so the rest went into the saddlebags for dinner.



I continued west, getting into Texas and heading up to one of the National Forests in search of a place to camp. Unfortunetly, it was deer hunting season and I felt that primitive camping somewhere randomly was a good plan to get shot, so I ended up saying in one of the areas designated for hunters.



There wasn't much to note the next day, save for . . .



Well, shit. 77 in a 70, got off with a warning. Hooray!