Idylwild, a couple times

I'm amazed sometimes what fits into a day. And how a day with your motorcycle can be a metaphor for life. A start to the day with coffee, pool and mountains. All that really matters is the mountains. 

It's a windy day, and I'm a worrier. Don't enjoy wind on a bike so much, so I went for a run to get the endorphins going. It worked.

My Lil Trip needed some love, so I let a stranger clean and lube his chain. Gotta get that flash flood grit outta there. It was worth the two day wait for Desert Motor Sports to open. Nice, nice people, they let me rub some of the dirt off him while they did the real stuff. Got him right in. I can tell when I shift that he needs an oil change, but that's gotta wait till I get home.

Lil Trip's been complaining a little about all the straight lines, so I took him up 243 to Idylwild today. Even went up and back a couple of times for good measure. I didn't feel very comfortable. It's really windy, and I've been doing too many figure 8's lately and not enough twisteys. There was grit and gravel everywhere because of the rain, and my shoulders were tight, despite Eugene's best efforts. But we made a good day of it, and I learned (for about the 40th time) that the wind's not so bad. 

I had a bowl of (yucky) chili in Idylwild and talked with some European dude about bikes. He really really wants a KTM 1290, but he's scared of the height because he's short. (He was sitting, but I took his word for it). I told him to get the 690, but he already has it! Needs more power and low end torque on the road. He thought my bike was a Speed Triple, and couldn't BELIEVE it when I told him it's 675 and I've ridden it 28K miles, rode from Phoenix. I expected more, but I guess it just goes to show you that all Euro dudes aren't like my friend Stephan. 

It was a beautiful day and I'm fortunate. I worried way too much about the wind (although as I write this its howling twice as hard, so I'll worry about tomorrow, too), and nothing spectacular happened. Just a day of taking in the sights, experiencing what I feel and accepting it, and appreciating the little things. And that, is life. 

After school I take a dip in the pool, which is really off the wall. 

Not a Twisty To Be Had

How can I be three days into California and not yet seen a curve? Not a bend in the road. And the ones I have seen? Covered in mud. 

(Sometimes gearing up is half the fun)

Today I trekked West toward LA to ride one of my favorites: HWY 2. Its 80 miles from where I'm staying, and I left at 6:30, early enough to to beat the traffic. As I climbed in altitude it started getting chilly, so I stopped for a gas station coffee and warm up near the start of this famous stretch of road. 

The locals were horrified when I told them where I was going, and I soon learned why. All the rain had caused rock slides, and the road was full of heavy equipment to clear the mess. Three miles in, the road was closed. I passed through enough rock and debris on the easy early miles of the road to know it was probably just as well. 

I turned back toward the desert, sympathized with a couple of "sport tourers" and hit the road. (They were discusted locals, "If you can't ride up here in July, when can you?").

I was disappointed (and cold), hit the highway through a construction zone, and nearly lost one of my nine lives. Some maniac in a mini-van darted in front of me from the left, nearly rear-ended the car that was in front of me, then cut back to the left and missed the car he passed by inches. (I say "he", but I got no idea). There was newly planted pylons, dirt, construction vehicles and tight traffic. I don't know why a bunch of us didn't bite it, and I don't know what was up with the guy--either he was having road rage at the slow vehicle he passed on the right, or he didn't see me (but I know he did). Either way, I always ask myself what I should have done differently, and the only thing I come up with is that I should have seen the crazy behind me a ways back. It's hard when you're in a construction zone and dealing with those obstacles, but that's why you gotta be super competent to ride a motorcycle, and I nearly came short. I'll stop feeling sorry for myself more quickly about a "bad" day next time. Oh, and I also learned that I'll probably talk to myself (out loud) about it if I ever do go down ugly. I'll spare you the words that came out of my mouth. 

So, day's over, it's NOON, so what's a girl do? I came home and made a smoothie (my first mean, if you don't count coffee), and set about motorcycle maintenance. My Lil Trip's still dirty after his flash flood run-in, so I needed chain cleaning, lubrication, and a top-up of coolant. I finally found a shop that's open on a Monday, only to find it closed. 

I was gonna do a quickie up 74, but Brian at Auto Zone (he was on a Gixer), said "you don't wanna go up there right now". (FYI, Auto Zone has WaterWetter, oil and filters, but nothing else for a bike. (I was gonna do my own maintenance, but guess not).

Fortunately right after my smoothie I booked a massage, so I had Eugene from Transylvania coming over at 6 (seriously). So after battling desert sun trying to find some biker supplies, I settled on steak, wine, and a massage. What's a girl gonna do. 

Oh, in my biker tools pursuit, I did find some guys at a car wash who let me use a hose to rinse the silt from Lil Trip's radiator and chain. Now if I can just find some chain lube. 'Cause tomorrow, We got a big day. 

The Wild Wild West

Last minute escape to California. Rain predicted. Yeah right. Got out of PHX before it was bakin'. Through Wickenburg, up to Parker, and headed west on 62 above Joshua Tree. 

Big clouds started to build in the mountains, got some pretty strong side wind, temp dropped a lot, but I never got much rain. It wouldn't have killed me, but on a bike it can feel like a bother. 

I was thinking how fortunate I am to have the cloud cover, crazy cool temp, I must be livin' right...when a movement in the drainage gully along side the road caught my eye. It was moving quickly and silvery in color. Hmmm. My radar was on and this was strange. 

I realized it was moving water carrying sand and silt (hence the color). I've seen the videos on YouTube of desert flash floods and I thought they were fake. Ok, guess not. 

It wasn't a lot of water, no worries, but as soon as I looked back to the road I saw a light color on the blacktop. Drifting sand, cool, until I realized it was more water about to cross the road. Yeah, not good. I knew I could mostly beat it, but it washed across the road just as I passed, and this frothy crap got all up under my bike and in my boots. 

I was thinking this could turn serious as I crested the next hill and saw about three more  washes across the road. Wow. My own desert flash flood. Not a vehicle, animal or human in sight. 

Now we've all seen the news videos of  idiots who drive through the flash flood and gets swept away. And you ask yourself, who does that? Well, I have a little better understanding of how it might happen. I went through about 10 washes, I was careful, but they were getting progressively worse. I could turn around, but those might now be worse too. It was never so bad that I would get swept away into the Colorado river or anything, but if I dropped my bike and it washed off the side of the road, that would be a pain. I was considering the situation when...

Finally a pickup was coming toward me and I flashed him down. He said the road was closed ahead and cars were backed up. So I turned around. Not happy, but how could I ever face a new class of beginner riders again, knowing I was one of those idiots. 

It started to rain hard and I was getting cold, so 4-miles into the turn around I pulled over to put my liner on. I was irritated knowing I'd have to get on the freeway eventually, but I couldn't be an idiot, could I?

Next thing a motorcycle crested the hill coming toward me, and, as we do, he stopped. I told him what was ahead, and the dude smiled. Now if I was a guy on an '83 GS I probably would have too. But I didn't have that luxury. He was gonna check it out, and when I told him I didn't want to turn back, he offered to help me out. Peter was an Aussie from Florida, so I said OK. He had a good look at by bike to consider what he was getting into, so I figured he had half a brain. 

He rode through the washes first to test them out, and turned and gave me a thumbs up that I could make it. I followed his line in 2nd gear, stayed relaxed on the handlebars (there was a lot of rocks, debris and mud), and rode 'em out.  He pulled aside after a particularly deep one, huge grin is face, "this is awesome!"

After about the 15th wash we came upon a snow plow that was pushing mud and rocks off the road! This must have been where the traffic was stopped. We just cruised around him, gave him a wave and kept riding. Soon after that we were headed out of the low area, and the flooding was done. 

We stopped at a gas station in Twenty Nine Palms, traded stories, I told him about HWY2, and off he went. Headed for the coast where he was going to store his bike to await the next adventure. I don't know what I've done to deserve coming across this angel on the road. I'll always be indebted, and I'll ALWAYS stop for a fellow rider. 

'Lil Trip isn't meant for flash floods, and he had a couple of gurgles, but he did me just fine.

I gave him a spit bath under the carport run off when we got to Palm Springs (hey, CA is in a drought), and he needs a chain cleaning, but he's ready for more tomorrow. I, myself, might need a day off.