Clark
04-10-2005, 05:20 PM
The message started off with the line "...gonna do a Saddle Sore 1000 from Los Angeles, through Arizona and back in April. Who wants to come along..?" After reading more to find out what a SS1000 was, I jumped in. After all, from where I sat at my computer, it sounded like a great adventure!
Well, the day arrived and I was ready. Up at 2:30 am. On the road at 3:30 to meet the rest of the group in Chatsworth, CA. There were four of us all together. My ST13, a late model VFR, a CBR 954(!), and even a GSXR-1000(!!). I stared in awe and puzzlement, as we filled our tanks, at people that would attempt an adventure like this on such hard-edged machines. I couldn't help but dread on their behalf how they were going to feel 600 or 800 miles into this thing. For their part, they looked back at my bike and the VFR and good-naturedly shook their heads commenting about electric vests and hard saddlebags.
We pulled out of Chatsworth at 4:20 am. The sport-bikes have smaller tanks and drink more fuel, so we scheduled fuel stops accordingly. (about 140 miles apart). Turned out to be good anyway, as those riders needed to get off and stretch (read: untie themselves) more often.
First stop Indio, then on to Blythe where a handy UPS driver directed us to the nearest Starbucks. After all, the bikes aren't the only ones that need fuel! The desert was beautiful. Cool, clear and bathed in a warm amber light as the rising sun slowly revealed the landscape. But, relatively cold for us native southern Californians. Temp was running in the mid forties. Two of us (ST and VFR) had the electric jackets or vests that had been the brunt of the earlier jokes from the sportbike guys. They weren't making fun of us anymore. Little did they know how far they would change their minds!
We continued into the great state of Arizona on the 10, getting off the slab and heading towards Wickenburg on the 60. This was the beginning of many miles on great, rural two lane roads through the desert and mountains of AZ. (Arizona is a beautiful state)
Just east of Wickenburg we began a steep climb on a beautiful road towards Peoples Valley and eventually Prescott. This road is well maintained, has great curves and excellent sightlines. Unfortunately it's also used as a speed trap by the Arizona Department of Killjoys. The officer claimed he timed us on a stopwatch and that we were traveling 66 mph in a 45 mph zone. The group of us had split when he pulled over the leaders. He then exited his car, and with his gun at the ready, directed the other two of us to the side of the road. I couldn't help wondering, was he really ready to shoot us for speeding? (No, I'm not being sarcastic. Yes, I was genuinely afraid of him)
Anyway, a little gloomier from our experience, we went on with the ride. Very nice ride going into Prescott. Great roads. Very courteous AZ drivers. What's this falling on me? Is that ash? I don't smell smoke.. Is that..? No, couldn't be! Yes, it's SNOW! No big deal if it doesn't get heavy. It did. It got very heavy. And the wind blew. Serious wind -- like the kind they only write about in the Old Testament. My air temp gauge showed 31 degrees. I was wearing an Aerostitch one piece with Gore-Tex riding boots and a Gerbing's jacket plugged in underneath. I was fine. I felt bad for the sportbike guys -- I knew they had to be freezing.
We ducked into a fast food place to decide what to do as the snow began to pile up outside. Luckily, within an hour, the storm had cleared to the southwest, back where we'd come from. The intended route to the Grand Canyon was out of the question. So, instead we adapted our route back to Wickenburg, then northwest on the 93 to Kingman where we stopped for gas. While we were there a motorist struck up a conversation with another rider. He was coming from the Grand Canyon in his car. He reported near white out conditions. Nice. Isn't Arizona supposed to be sunny?
We broke for dinner at Kingman to study our maps and plan a route home that would pile up enough miles for us to complete our original goal. However, it was already getting late, we were tired, it was near dark and we still needed an additional 400 miles!
After some time with the maps and a calculator, we came up with a plan to head down the 95 back to Blythe, then home the way we'd come so many hours earlier. We reasoned we'd be better off on the slab at that point given how tired we all were.
One last stop at Indio where the group split into pairs. One rider was having trouble staying awake and wanted to get inside somewhere, warm up and get another shot of coffee. If you don't think you'd ever have to worry about falling asleep on a bike, try something like this, then get back to me! :) I paired up with the CBR rider and we headed west on the 10 right back into more of the BIG WIND. Those of you familiar with the drive from the Palm Springs area know what I'm talking about. I lowered the shield as far as it would go, laid down on top of the tank and squeezed the tank with my knees figuring this configuration would give me the best chance of not getting blown off the bike or into another vehicle. I also felt amazingly alert, but was sure I probably was not. I kept reminding myself to be hyper-aware of what I was doing, given how tired I knew I was.
Finally I made it home. My wife had done her best to stay up to wait for me. When she sleepily greeted me I started talking a mile a minute about the day. I laughed at myself, sent her to bed and waited for the switch to go off inside of me. In about 10 minutes I went from completely wound up to feeling so tired I could barely move. Ah, a soft, warm, (quiet!) bed.
Total miles: 1053
Total time: 22.5 hours
The heroes of the ride: The CBR and GSXR riders. Amazing machines in their element. This ride was not their element. They deserve double credit. Just amazing.
Well, the day arrived and I was ready. Up at 2:30 am. On the road at 3:30 to meet the rest of the group in Chatsworth, CA. There were four of us all together. My ST13, a late model VFR, a CBR 954(!), and even a GSXR-1000(!!). I stared in awe and puzzlement, as we filled our tanks, at people that would attempt an adventure like this on such hard-edged machines. I couldn't help but dread on their behalf how they were going to feel 600 or 800 miles into this thing. For their part, they looked back at my bike and the VFR and good-naturedly shook their heads commenting about electric vests and hard saddlebags.
We pulled out of Chatsworth at 4:20 am. The sport-bikes have smaller tanks and drink more fuel, so we scheduled fuel stops accordingly. (about 140 miles apart). Turned out to be good anyway, as those riders needed to get off and stretch (read: untie themselves) more often.
First stop Indio, then on to Blythe where a handy UPS driver directed us to the nearest Starbucks. After all, the bikes aren't the only ones that need fuel! The desert was beautiful. Cool, clear and bathed in a warm amber light as the rising sun slowly revealed the landscape. But, relatively cold for us native southern Californians. Temp was running in the mid forties. Two of us (ST and VFR) had the electric jackets or vests that had been the brunt of the earlier jokes from the sportbike guys. They weren't making fun of us anymore. Little did they know how far they would change their minds!
We continued into the great state of Arizona on the 10, getting off the slab and heading towards Wickenburg on the 60. This was the beginning of many miles on great, rural two lane roads through the desert and mountains of AZ. (Arizona is a beautiful state)
Just east of Wickenburg we began a steep climb on a beautiful road towards Peoples Valley and eventually Prescott. This road is well maintained, has great curves and excellent sightlines. Unfortunately it's also used as a speed trap by the Arizona Department of Killjoys. The officer claimed he timed us on a stopwatch and that we were traveling 66 mph in a 45 mph zone. The group of us had split when he pulled over the leaders. He then exited his car, and with his gun at the ready, directed the other two of us to the side of the road. I couldn't help wondering, was he really ready to shoot us for speeding? (No, I'm not being sarcastic. Yes, I was genuinely afraid of him)
Anyway, a little gloomier from our experience, we went on with the ride. Very nice ride going into Prescott. Great roads. Very courteous AZ drivers. What's this falling on me? Is that ash? I don't smell smoke.. Is that..? No, couldn't be! Yes, it's SNOW! No big deal if it doesn't get heavy. It did. It got very heavy. And the wind blew. Serious wind -- like the kind they only write about in the Old Testament. My air temp gauge showed 31 degrees. I was wearing an Aerostitch one piece with Gore-Tex riding boots and a Gerbing's jacket plugged in underneath. I was fine. I felt bad for the sportbike guys -- I knew they had to be freezing.
We ducked into a fast food place to decide what to do as the snow began to pile up outside. Luckily, within an hour, the storm had cleared to the southwest, back where we'd come from. The intended route to the Grand Canyon was out of the question. So, instead we adapted our route back to Wickenburg, then northwest on the 93 to Kingman where we stopped for gas. While we were there a motorist struck up a conversation with another rider. He was coming from the Grand Canyon in his car. He reported near white out conditions. Nice. Isn't Arizona supposed to be sunny?
We broke for dinner at Kingman to study our maps and plan a route home that would pile up enough miles for us to complete our original goal. However, it was already getting late, we were tired, it was near dark and we still needed an additional 400 miles!
After some time with the maps and a calculator, we came up with a plan to head down the 95 back to Blythe, then home the way we'd come so many hours earlier. We reasoned we'd be better off on the slab at that point given how tired we all were.
One last stop at Indio where the group split into pairs. One rider was having trouble staying awake and wanted to get inside somewhere, warm up and get another shot of coffee. If you don't think you'd ever have to worry about falling asleep on a bike, try something like this, then get back to me! :) I paired up with the CBR rider and we headed west on the 10 right back into more of the BIG WIND. Those of you familiar with the drive from the Palm Springs area know what I'm talking about. I lowered the shield as far as it would go, laid down on top of the tank and squeezed the tank with my knees figuring this configuration would give me the best chance of not getting blown off the bike or into another vehicle. I also felt amazingly alert, but was sure I probably was not. I kept reminding myself to be hyper-aware of what I was doing, given how tired I knew I was.
Finally I made it home. My wife had done her best to stay up to wait for me. When she sleepily greeted me I started talking a mile a minute about the day. I laughed at myself, sent her to bed and waited for the switch to go off inside of me. In about 10 minutes I went from completely wound up to feeling so tired I could barely move. Ah, a soft, warm, (quiet!) bed.
Total miles: 1053
Total time: 22.5 hours
The heroes of the ride: The CBR and GSXR riders. Amazing machines in their element. This ride was not their element. They deserve double credit. Just amazing.