Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Scenes from a motorcycle trip.

Well heck Rick, I don't things will go near as dark as you wrote, this just happened is all, things will blow over. And dont be talking about booze to a guy who was just around 50,000 reformed alchoholics. If we'd a drunk just 10% of all that alchohol back then, it'd still have been more'n enough.

Anyhoo... next time call me fer advice on how to handle these things BEFORE the fact, as I recall I offered a number of viable options

Tom, be not forgetting the depreciability of our own assets. I mean, if I hang onto this bike for ANOTHER 18 years, I might not have a pulse by then.

Back to the trip...

Nine days in NY State before I was to roll out with my brother, four households to visit; my time there was pretty scripted.

Here I am picking my nephew up from school one day in front of all his friends, he thought it was cool as all get out. I went and shaved as soon as I saw the pic...



And here's another nephew on our way to a poker run at Orange County Choppers. We had cleaned up my old thumper as best we could beforehand, wiping off the rims and scrubbing off the old faded surface plastic layer with steel wool. The good thing being that dirt bikes are cool for what they are, not how much they shine.

Leastways I think so.



OC Choppers, for years my claim to fame among my students was that my brother knew these guys before they were famous. Here's him and the Teutel brothers back at their old shop in the early years of the show. He stopped in and got this photo took at my request back then so I could show it to my students...



Anyhoo.... here's the new OC Chopper place today outside of Newburgh, NY...







A decent turnout for the poker run, about 75 bikes. A lot of guys down from Canada, and a surprising number of import "cruisers".



[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v148/Sharpshin/24hrcamp/IMG_1668.jpg[/img]

[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v148/Sharpshin/24hrcamp/IMG_1661.jpg[/img]

Not all the choppers were inside the showroom...

[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v148/Sharpshin/24hrcamp/IMG_1650.jpg[/img]

...and one cool thing there was this dynamometer set-up...

[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v148/Sharpshin/24hrcamp/IMG_1670.jpg[/img]

Birdwatcher

Birdy,

It has been with keen interest that I've followed this entire thread from the beginning... And I must admit with no small amount of curiousity that you can log the miles you do considering what you ride. Not that I'm disparaging your ride, but I admire THAT you ride. I've been known to do some iron butt riding in my younger days... But now I prefer quality of ride rather than quantity (miles)...

Keep the story coming, I'm enjoying it immensely...

GH

for cryin' out loud... this is almost like the trip we took to durango way back when... i dunno... a marriage and a couple a 'relationships' ago... didn't know the orange county spoken of in the show wasn't in Cali-forni-ca. didn't realize it was in Nuevo York.

welcome to the fold Rick. post some pix of those boys... only guy i ever knew that named his kid after my dog.... was a good dog too... bet the kid is better...

Ben Jamin... been jammin'....

both you jerks are good folk... we are all turdlike people...

you'll get used to the banter quickly Globemaster... it's a lot like the Benchracers... do either of you still have a tee shirt after all these years?

-tom

GH,

In this case, there weren't any way to ride back with my brother, without riding there first. And what a rare experience to discover that I was still good at something, long after I had let it drop. With respect to the miles covered, I expect 12 years of my life spent pretty much entirely on two wheels had upped my frame of reference somewhat.

But lots of guys put high miles on KLR's, that being part of the appeal of the model. It really is a comfortable mount on the superslab, it can be hustled right quick down a backroad, and be ridden anywhere a jeep can go. Kudos to Kawasaki Heavy Industries for quietly producing this bike for so many years, and then updating it as per rider feedback while holding it to about the same price point.

On the web there's accounts of guys still riding these things up into Alsaska and down into Central America. In a perfect world there would be where I'd be heading next.

Anyhoo...

The OC Chopper showroom deserves more time.








Check out the Easy Rider replica



And this one, built for the Reeves foundation...



In the shop in back they were filming for the TV show.




Later on, Paul Sr. was signing autographs in the shop and a bunch of people went in. I didn't get on line but did take a look. Interesting was this lineup of non-Harley choppers back there.

[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v148/Sharpshin/24hrcamp/IMG_1642.jpg[/img]

And this OCC shop instruction...

[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v148/Sharpshin/24hrcamp/IMG_1659.jpg[/img]

Birdwatcher

Wow. I thought I was a road warrior doing 1000 miles a day in a pickup, or 800 in a Miata

That's answering one of my questions. I might have to give one a sit. I was eyeing a Yam TW200, which the experts tell me is sorta a small version of the KLR650. In my case it would be commuting or trail rides in the Sierras.

Most enjoyable thread, by the way. I've known guys who did cross-country rides on full dress Harleys and Aspencades, but not a KLR- type bike.

i've done it both ways, it's a LOT more comfortable on a full dress bike. but then, birdy's never OWNED a full dress bike... that i know of... and i've ridden with him for years...

keep going birdy...

A few highlights before we head on back with my brother...

This here is Moroney's HD/Suzuki, just around the corner and down the road from OC Choppers, one of the more prominent and older dealerships around...



Significant here because it is where I found this, one of the funnier helmet stickers I have seen...



...and also this, the "Throttle Rocker", one of the greatest inventions to come down the pike in a while. My right wrist ain't been all that since a mountain bike wreck a few years back and your right hand operates the throttle as well as the front brake wherein most of the power to stop a motorcycle lies. My wrist was sore even before I left, and it was a real worry setting out that it would leave me grounded.

Turns out that didn't happen, but putting one of these things on the throttle afforded enormous relief on long hauls, and better throttle control on short hops. Every motorcycle oughtta have one. It retails for around ten bucks on the internet...








New York is a beautiful state, and I prob'ly could do another ten posts of scenery pics, but these are from Pennsylvania, looking across the Delaware at New York...





The time came to leave at last, and on my way over to my brother's house I detoured up the Delaware above Port Jervis to the Hawk's Nest overlook. I was feeling kind of down at the thought of leaving all this to go back to hot and sunny and flat and dusty Texas. So I rode up to the overlook. There was this couple already there with their parked Harley, enjoying the view.

[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v148/Sharpshin/24hrcamp/IMG_2108.jpg[/img]

[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v148/Sharpshin/24hrcamp/IMG_2109.jpg[/img]


Turns out the NYDAO (New York Department of Auspicious Omens) was open that day.

I climbed off the bike, my bird watcher eyes going into their usual auto-scan function.

No sooner had I gotten off the bike than I spot an adult bald eagle soaring up the cliff face towards us from below. "Eagle" I pointed out, with a sort of nonchalance that suggested this sort of thing happened to me every day.

We all scrambled for our cameras as it sailed right past us. I shot a hurried series of pics with my pocket digital that captured only trees or empty sky. But before it sailed on over the mountain I caught an image of it, circling overhead.

[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v148/Sharpshin/24hrcamp/IMG_2120.jpg[/img]

Birdwatcher

...and also this, the "Throttle Rocker", one of the greatest inventions to come down the pike in a while. My right wrist ain't been all that since a mountain bike wreck a few years back and your right hand operates the throttle as well as the front brake wherein most of the power to stop a motorcycle lies. My wrist was sore even before I left, and it was a real worry setting out that it would leave me grounded.

Turns out that didn't happen, but putting one of these things on the throttle afforded enormous relief on long hauls, and better throttle control on short hops. Every motorcycle oughtta have one. It retails for around ten bucks on the internet...


Just put one on my bike yesterday.....it's fantastic! Best ten bucks I've spent on a bike. Mines called a "Wrist Rest". Same principle. What I really like is that it allows you to "cover" your brake lever with a couple fingers, with less effort. I like to cover both the brake and clutch levers whenever possible. Especially in traffic.

Jeff

Mike, Thanks for the offer of advice.....I am sorta stubborn and hard of head. (but so is Mrs Hardass) I was not serious about the return to my hard drinking days as witnessed by you and Tom, although with no wife and kids around i have downed a few more than ususal.
It is great to get back in the fold again and Tom.......My last shirt fell apart about 6 months ago.
Rick

My older brother has only been riding for about five years, somtimes commutes. He is an Army Veteran and is active in the Patriot Guard, that volunteer organization that protects military funerals.

He puts on maybe 6,000 miles in an average year, and his expectations as to mileage per day were about the same as folks here, which is to say less than mine.

We had about five days to get to Texas so that was OK.

His mount was an 800cc Suzuki, one of them innumerable Japanese V-twin cruisers...



The kicked-out riding position looked uncomfortable to me but he had enough stuff bungeed on to form a backrest.



It was after eleven am before we left, it always takes longer than you think to get away from yer own home.

Got off the highway some distance south of Wilkes-Barre Pa. to get gas, ended up here, in a Pennsylvania mining town... Minersville, Pa. The blue dome threw us for a loop at first until we recalled Russian Orthodox. This was Charles Bronson country.



How do you know yer in a coal town? When roadside shacks are selling bags of coal....



Friendly folks at the gas station (Pennsylvania Redneck), no visible minorities that we saw (not even illegal-looking Mexicans, which is pretty much everywhere anymore), lots of chain-smokers.

Back on the highway.... past Harrisburg, Gettysburg, Chambersburg and Greencastle in quick succession, on again past Hagerstown and Martinsburg. Finally, as the shadows were getting long, stopped for gas outside of Winchester Va.

Filled up the tank, took a break, climbed on the bike and.... nothing.

The barest "click" when I pushed on the starter button, not even a draw on the headlight... damn.

OK, what could it be? I did HAVE a headlight, and the starter didn't draw down on it, so it weren't the battery, ergo not the alternator. Most likely a bad connection... if the starter weren't dead.

Pushed it over off of the pumps, unloaded the luggage, took off the seat to get at the battery and assorted innards. Nothing wrong that I could see, all the connections appeared sound.

At this point a gracious local, deeply suntanned with faded tattoos and a long Virginia drawl came over to help. Turns out he had travelled many a mile in his day on his Harley, before age had forced him to quit. He said he loved Jesus and motorcycles, in that order.

On finding how far I had come and how far we were going he said "Happy to meet you brother, ain't many of us left." He called a friend of his on his cellphone, a noted local wrench, but the guy was on a run delivering a vehicle out of state. "Come back in the morning" I told our friend, "I'll prob'ly still be here". This was late Saturday afternoon, natch, a THREE night wait until the dealerships opened.

OK, I got a kick starter on this thing, I'll try that.

I had the kick put on in 1992 because REAL motorcycles had kick starters. Ya gotta be King Kong to start it that way. Kicking it over ain't the problem, kicking over it fast enough to start, is.

About a dozen kicks later, NO sign of a pulse. So I hit the starter button again, just like I had done about fifty times already since it had died at the pump, in the way that we do with suddenly dead vehicles...

Fired right up like there was nothing wrong. Shut it off, hit the starter button again, fired right up again. WooHoo!!

OK, quick conference: Clearly I had to carefully go over the bike. But we only had maybe ninety minutes of daylight left and the closest dealer was the wrong way (Manassas?).

Decision: Run through this tank of gas (about 150-170 miles for his bike) to Roanoke, Va., which was about that far away and big enough to have a dealership.

Stopped for gas outside of Roanoke.... "click".... damn... "click".... damn.... tried again a little bit later, fired right up...

Found a hotel just off the interstate (Buckhannon?), stopped for the night.

Birdwatcher

Nice read, Birdwatcher. Thanks!

Starter Button?

Winchester, Virginia? I grew up and went to school in Winchester. I now have been living back in Winchester for the past three years. Wonderful part of the country. Glad you were treated well.

Your travelogues are the best Mike.

hey damnit Birdy, it's going on 11 a.m. yer place, get yer azz outa bed and get to writing!


I gotta work today, and I'm gonna be none too happy if I don't find out what was going on with the starter issues before I go.


worse than the freakin Perils of Pauline..........just wait till next week.


perhaps you can tell BW, I'm enjoyin the heck outa this along with a bunch of the rest of the guys, well done, sir, well done.

Birdwatcher,

This is an OUTSTANDING read, can't thank you enough for posting this and keeping us updated on your adventure.

Never been much of a biker, but it sure is fun to follow your trip, you have a great knack for storytelling.

Thanks and safe travels!

Ya, thats what they call it in the manual, I checked. It can be seen in this pic right below the red kill switch. Ordinarily you press it with your right thumb, it only works if the bike thinks it is in neutral (as indicated by a green idiot light right below the speedometer).



So as you can guess, there's a number of electronic hurdles between that button and the starter motor that can cause the starter motor to go "click" (or do nothing at all), even supposing the starter is still good.

I was out at first light, impatient to get started....



....aware that the events of the next hour would determine my course of action over the next few days, nay, even affect the outcome of the entire trip. Plus, electronic gremlins on aging bikes can be a real PITA to find.

Turns out God Hisself was waiting out there to help (and He can fix anything), at least I think He was.

What I did was pull the seat to expose the battery and some connections again and hit the starter button (the exact same one in that pic). This time the starter didn't go "click", it went "clickclickclickclickclickclickclick" while a shower of sparks obligingly cascaded from the positive battery terminal. The positive battery cable nut was loose.

Gentlemen, it doesn't get much easier than that. A few moments with a 10mm socket is all it took, and of course I had brung tools Solved the headlight problem too. The only thing was I was kicking myself for not having done that two weeks and 2,000 miles earlier that night back in Arkansas.

...and a life lesson on the power of assumptions here: When the headlight started to flicker I had just assumed it was old wiring, and accepted that unquestioningly as fact.

Motorcycle trips are sort of like life; when the starter button of life goes "click" everything is suddenly gloom and doom, down the tubes. When it works again, well hey, you are back on the road.

Me and my brother both spent our formative years in England, and it had not espcaped our attention that a certain sporting event was underway in South Africa. That day England was to play Germany in an elimination match at 9:30 ET. Since all we had planned was ride to the Smokey Mountains (Deal's Gap) that day, we had time to watch the match AND make it to the mountains before dark.

My brother ain't really about getting up and out early, so this change in schedule suited him just fine.

The Indian guys running the hotel were soccer fanatics, so we all sat in the lobby, along with the Mexican kitchen guy, and watched it on their big screen. I might add that for less than $60 for a double, the hotel also laid on a better-than-average breakfast buffet and coffee

"Ahem"... while we are off watching the match I shall relate a story....
______________________________________________________

Same stretch of highway, same bike, same rider, same month, but seventeen or eighteen years ago. Different hair color, opposite direction (northbound)....

I was on my way to New York, day two, after having done the 1,000-miles-to-the-Tennessee-rest-area thing the day before.

It was probably early afternoon, and I was getting drowsy. Not breaking pace, I reached back with my left (clutch) hand and pulled a bottle of diet coke out of the saddle bags. I then wedged it underneath my leg, opened it, flipped open my face shield (same helmet) and drank half of it out of the left side of my mouth while watching the road with my right eye.

All this in less time than it took to type it, and then I reversed the above motions and put it back in the saddlebag. I was good at stuff like that back then.

I look over to my right and there's this white passenger van of Amish teenagers, being driven by a bearded Mennonite guy (I believe the Amish make such arrangements when necessary) all laughing and waving. I waved back.

Just then it commenced to rain. Not merely rain, but a regular deluge, about like a car wash, with flashing lightning and rumbles of thunder. Usually you can ride right through these things in about two minutes or less, but this went on for the next twenty or thirty, we must have been riding along a front. The wind picked up too, slanting the rain from left to right.

Visibility dropped to near zero, lots of people were pulling off of the interstate to the side of the highway.

The only thing worse than riding your motorcycle in conditions like that is standing by the side of the road next to your motorcycle in conditions like that, so, in the words of a certain fictional George Armstrong Custer, I "endeavored to persevere"....

I got in right behind a semi rig, I could barely see the two tail lights on the trailer as we crept along, maybe ten or fifteen miles an hour, lightning lighting up the rain every few seconds.

At length the sky brightened and the rain dwindled to a light drizzle. I was drenched, like I had been swimming, my soaked leather jacket all goopy and hanging off of me. There weren't a single part of me that weren't soaked.

The KLR of course, never missed a beat.

Just then the van with the Mennonite guy and the Amish kids pulled up alongside again, they had stuck to my tail the whole time.

I motioned for him to wind down his window and then theatrically stuck out an upraised palm while looking around at the skies....

"Its raining" I said. We all started laughing.

I dunno, maybe you had to be there. I got off at the very next exit. Wet as I was, I suddenly had to pee real bad.

_________________________________________________________

My brother has hung onto his working class Brit patois over the years more better than moi. After the match was over he summed it up with a Lancashire "that was a load of rubbish". Compared to the Germans the English side looked out of shape and out of practice. IIRC they lost 4-1 (3-1? 4-2?).

On that slightly downer note, we headed out for the Smokies.

Birdwatcher

what all you guys don't realize, is that having breakfast and coffee with Birdy is just about like reading this travelogue. He's kinda 'out there' but all really good teachers are a little 'out there'. In Birdy's case, it's in a good way. a very good way...

when i went to minnesota recently on a fishing trip, we saw plenty bald eagles, every day as we motored to the fishing grounds. quite the excellent birdwatching opportunity.

Birdwatcher: you need to step up the consistency of your posts. i know there's an interesting story here and want to read the rest of it. Lemme know if you and the missus want to come down and help me paint or lay tile....

-tom

soooo


who won the soccer match?



grin