Reno Nevada to Stockton California

We didn't rush this morning. The Honda shop website said the sales department opened at 9:00 but I figured maybe the service department would open at 8:00. that still meant we didn't have to leave until 7:45 so we took our time over breakfast and packing.

The first challenge was to find the bike key, which had gone missing overnight. I had the backup key, which I used to unlock and search the bike. I had my clean jeans on for supper, which Sandy had repacked in my clothes bag, so we looked there but it wasn't in the pocket. Sandy looked through the bag and didn't see it. After looking everywhere else, I finally emptied the contents of the clothes bag in the parking lot and there it was.

We headed over to the Honda dealer and got there just after 8:00. Sure enough, the service department was open. Upon entering, I was met by these smiling faces. They had a Metzeler tire in stock and got right on it. We repaired to the waiting area, which was set up like a small cafe with coffee. I spent the time getting some Visa receipts sorted and entered. Although they said it would be ready at 10:00, someone came by at 9:24 to tell me it was done. Rear tire and final drive oil were replaced and there was 50% left on the rear brake pads. At $169, the tire was a good deal too.

I can recommend Big Valley Honda in Reno to anyone. Their facility is top notch, everyone is friendly and helpful and they really make you feel at home. They also rent bikes; Wings, ST1300's and VTX's. They even had the grommets I've been looking for the replace the one I damaged removing the panel to check the oil.

The rental manager suggested we might like to try Ebbetts pass on our way west over the Sierras. He said it was 'interesting'. Since we would be coming back up on Highway 88 next week, we decided to give it a try. We followed 395 south to Gardinerville and took 88 to 89 and onto 4, the road through Ebbetts. We were a ways up this road, winding along the edge of a small river, before I realized this was the road to Angel's Camp. This was the road Slots said he would never ride again. Oops.

As we started to climb, the road narrowed and the centre line disappeared. The road wound up and around blind corners with sheer drop-offs on one side. I was so focused on watching for oncoming traffic in blind corners that the height didn't even bother me. Climbing at low speed pushed the temperature gauge almost to the red. Finally, we reached the summit of Ebbetts Pass at over 8,700 feet. The we started down and entered a valley where the riding was more relaxed. We came to a wide stretch with a centre line and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was short-lived. The road narrowed again and we started back up to a second summit.

I was very pleased with myself. Two years ago, I wouldn't have been able to ride this road. Today, it was a challenge but I never had a moment of doubt and pretty much enjoyed the experience.

The second time we started down, we came to a real highway. This was a first quality road that swept back and forth down the west side of the range, a very enjoyable ride. We stopped at one place to look at some trees and Sandy found this pine cone. As we continued winding down, we entered Calaveras County and I started thinking of Mark Twain and jumping frogs. Then the significance of Angel's Camp became clear.

In Angel's Camp we moved from mountains to foothills. We also moved from forest to yellow grass dotted with dark green trees. The road continued to wind but there were no blind corners. The temperature started to rise into the high 90's and, as we hit the flat lands, exceeded 100. But it was a DRY heat. Right. The last stretch into Stockton was through flat agricultural lands. Orchards and fields with a stretch where migrant workers were picking and bagging onions. Stockton Red Onions, as Don told me later. It looked like a brutal job.

In Stockton, I made a wrong turn and ended up in a not so affluent part of town. A quick map check gave me the correct directions and we found Don's place with no further problem. We put the bike in Don's garage. He had moved two of his five bikes to a neighbor's garage to make room. We enjoyed some cold, clear water and kicked back for a bit.

For supper, we picked up Don's mom and dad, Leona and Frank, and went to Dave Wong's Chinese restaurant. Frank is going to be 93 tomorrow and doesn't speak since he had a stroke 13 years ago, but he smiles a lot and really likes to eat. Leona is a hoot. She is outspoken and very funny. Don ordered a series of dishes, some of which were not even on the menu like peanut pressed duck and chinese broccoli. He also showed us the proper way to use chopsticks. The food was excellent and Don wouldn't let me get part of the check. Thank you very much, Mr. Inamasu.

After supper, we took Frank and Leona home and then took a drive around the marina and the golf course community. Don is an avid golfer and the whole facility looks first rate. Then we came home for a bit until someone suggested ice cream. This involved a drive across town, back to the other side of the tracks, to a little ice cream place on a corner. Then we got the guided tour of Don's childhood neighborhood and other parts of the old city. I recognized the old Stockton train station from an article in Model Railroader magazine.

Back at the house, the temperature finally cooled down and beacme very comfortable. Don and I sat out back talking about life, the Universe and everything while Sandy went to bed.

Evanston Wyoming to Reno Nevada

I've been everywhere, man
I've been everywhere, man
Crossed the deserts bare, man
I've breathed the mountain air, man
Of travel I've had my share, man
I've been everywhere

Not really, but it crossed my mind as we went through Winnemucca today. More on that later.

As we were loading up and grabbing our hotel breakfast, a lady walked by with a dog. Now this wasn't just any dog. It was a two year old Irish wolfhound. I've only seen them in pictures up until now. The lady walking him said he was 175 pounds but he had another year of growing to do. I was surprised by how gentle and peaceful he was. He even let Sandy hold his leash for a picture.

We said goodbye to our Ontario friends and, after heading out the wrong way, got turned around and found I-80 West.

It was cool this morning, low 50's. About thirty miles into Utah, we stopped at a rest area so Sandy could put on her electric vest. The Utah scenery started early. This isn't spectacular like Moab or Zion, but it is very pretty.

The ride to Salt Lake City was interesting. After the Ogden turn-off, we spent some time running a long series of 50 MPH (or so they were marked) sweepers through a canyon and then came into a small town (which doesn't seem to have a name) where a number of hot air balloons were either flying or getting ready to take off. I wondered, given the remoteness of most of the countryside and lack of roads, how the chase crews could follow the balloons. Then we went through another very pretty and twisty canyon after a steep and winding descent and came out in SLC. We fueled on the other side of town by the airport.

It was actually pleasant crossing the salt flats today. The temperature was still reasonable (26C) and the wind was moderate. While still about thirty miles from the Nevada border, we again saw the Tree of Life, aka the Tree of Utah, come into view. There are signs saying Emergency Stopping Only, but I needed a picture so I declared an emergency and stopped. It is an unusual thing and I appreciate seeing it in contrast to the stark whiteness of all the salt.

As we entered Wendover, I think I figured out the wages of sin. It appears that sin begets prosperity. East Wendover, in Utah, is a simple place without much to recommend it. As you cross into Nevada, marked by a line painted on the street, fancy casinos, restaurants and hotels abound. There is even one casino built with its east wall right on the state line.

We continued on I-80 to Elko, a little town with a big casino that we stayed in two years ago. Unfortunately, they were doing major paving work and the first exit was blocked. We pulled into the second one to get some lunch and I got a liberal coating of tar on my tires which attracted every small rock we drove over. At Mickey D's, we met a Pennsylvania HD rider who was on his way home after a month on the road.

Nevada must be pretty flush. They were repaving large stretches for the next fifty miles. I didn't know there were that many orange barrels in the world. I was passed by a tricked out Harley V-Rod and (the first I have really seen) a Titan. This is a rare custom built motorcycle. In the next rest area, we met a truck driver from Winnipeg and his female partner from BC. He was on I-80 for the first time hauling a load to Sacramento. We talked highways and border crossings until it was time to roll again.

We stopped for gas in Winnemucca, another small town in the middle of nowhere. Now is a good time to mention the community of the road. As we traverse the country, we encounter the same people and vehicles going the same way. I mentioned earlier the Iowa Nomad rider and the lady at breakfast in North Platte. At the Winnemucca gas station, I pulled in beside a semi hauling a High Definition TV production trailer. This rig was very distinctive and passed us twice two days ago in Nebraska. I mentioned this to the driver, who looked at the bike and said he remembered us. He wondered if I had a child on the back but I told him it was my wife. Sandy was pleased about the comment. He was going to lay over at the Flying J truck stop in Lodi since he didn't have to have the trailer in Sacramento until Tuesday.

The rest of the way to Reno got hotter. As we entered the 40 Mile Desert, the temperature was pushing 100 degrees. We stopped at a barren rest area and though about the settlers facing this brutal crossing all those years ago. They were some tough folk.

After pushing the rest of the way, we stopped in Sparks on the east side of Reno. We found the Fairfield Inn was booked but had just had a cancellation, so we literally got the last room at the inn. While we cleaned up, I called Paul 'Slots' Manske and told him we were in town. Paul and his wife Katie came and picked us up and took us to the Outback Steakhouse for dinner and conversation. We had a very pleasant evening. Thanks to both of you for looking after us. Don Inamasu called to let me know tomorrow's dinner plans.

I didn't get any pictures of Slots since my digital camera has stopped working. Actually, it still takes pictures but the little video screen quit so I have no idea what the settings are. If it doesn't come back, I may have to get a new one.

Back at the hotel, we were showing Katie the Wing and I decided to check the tire wear. The tread had worn a bit today in the heat, but the unpleasant discovery was a phillips head screw stuck right through the centre of the tread on the rear tire. I guess the experiment to see how far it will go is over. Slots said there is a big Honda dealer a few miles away, so I'll drop by there tomorrow and see if they have a tire they can install. Since the gauge says it isn't losing air, I'll leave the screw alone and won't try to plug it. I'll call Don as soon as I know what can be done. I hope this doesn't mess up the dinner plans.

On the plus side, if I have new rubber I won't have to keep my speed down any more:-)

I was just outside and can't believe how pleasant the weather is. Temperature and humidity are about as perfect as I could ask for. Small moments like this make up for some of the less welcome things that life visits on us.

North Platte Nebraska to Evanston Wyoming

Our hotel offered a full breakfast buffet, so we wandered over to the lobby and had some eggs, bacon and a pancake. A lady came in who said she had seen us in a rest area the day before. We invited her to join us and found she was originally from Cleveland but now resided in Boulder, Colorado.

The temperature was in the low 60's so we started out with the mesh jackets. We headed west with a slight tailwind and virtually no traffic. As we passed Big Springs I pointed out the truck stop where I and a few others helped a lady tie a car top carrier to her rustbucket last year. I mentioned that we had lunch at the Subway there, sharing a meal deal. Sandy immediately recalled that this was the time I finished all the root beer myself. She does have a good memory where my screw-ups are concerned.

When we got to the place where I-76 branches away from I-80, we stayed on I-80 for the first time. We have always taken I-76 to Denver in the past, so everything after this point was vuja de (the sensation that you have never done this before as named by my brother Rabbi). As with 76, though, the highway starts to climb from this point.

The temperature stayed mild as we approached Cheyenne. Although much fuss is made about Denver being the 'mile high city', Cheyenne has it beat with an elevation of slightly over 6,000 feet. We continued on and kept climbing. Some strange rock formations appeared to the north, almost like the SD Needles.

I noticed on one stretch, as I was passing a truck, that the bike seemed a bit down on power. At the top of one hill, a tourist information rest area beckoned and I found the reason for the power loss. We were at the Summit Rest Area, the highest point on I-80 at 8,640 feet. They have a large memorial to Honest Abe Lincoln since this is called the Lincoln Highway. Here Sandy stands in from of it. The next picture looks back at the trucks hauling through the red rock cut at the summit. The town of Laramie is just down the road.

After Laramie, the serious winds started. There was a sign warning of possible dangerous winds for the next five miles. At the end of the five miles, there was another sign and another five miles. And so it continued. The winds were mostly from the southwest, so the were quartering from my front left. Until a truck passed me, and then they came from everywhere at once.

I wondered where the windmills were, Then we saw them. Maybe more than West Texas. As many as Lundbreck Alberta. Rows and rows, turning the hated wind into clean electricity. One person's minus is another person's plus. The tempreature was now fluctuating between 27 and 32 C. Not nearly as bad as it could have been.

We stopped at one rest area and met a guy from Colorado on a GS-1200 Beemer loaded for bear and on his way to Alaska. We talked about the wind. He said one arm was now longer than the other due to fighting it. After we pulled out, we encountered the first of several local showers. They were all light and the roads were dry five minutes after they were done.

We stopped for gas in Green River, taking the scenic route through town. For some reason, this place has put the rain grooves in its road crosswise, making for a very unnerving vibration from the tires. When I stopped at the Exxon station, I put the bike on its centre stand and checked, but they were fine. As I was doing this, a Nomad pulled into the next pump. It was a fellow from Davenport Iowa (who didn't know Auggie) who we had met in a rest area in Grand Island Nebraska yesterday. Small world continues.

At the next rest area, we met a rider loaded for bear on a BMW GS-1150. He was heading for (you guessed it) Alaska. He said he'd been through here before and didn't remember this much wind. Lots of Alaska riders. Oh yes, the Nomad rider was Alaska bound as well.

It was at this rest area that we decided to stop short of Salt Lake City. We quit at Evanston Wyoming, three miles short of the Utah border. This place has beaucoup motels. We are at the Comfort Inn. As I was unloading the bike, a man and two women who had just arrived came over. Bob and Carol are from Kincardine Ontario and the other lady is from Toronto. They are heading west to visit their kids who are in San Francisco and Livermore California. We all had supper together and then returned to the hotel where Sandy and I jumped in the pool and hot tub for a while. Then Sandy hit the hay while I am still up blogging.

The tire saga continues. There was, again, no discernable loss of tread and the gauge reads the same as it did before we left home.

Today was only a 600 mile day, but we worked at it. Tomorrow, we are aiming for Reno Nevada, another 600 miles. Hopefully, we can have a visit with Paul 'Slots' Manske in his home environment. Friday we will wander over to Stockton California to Don VSP Inamasu's place.

Ottawa Illinois to North Platte Nebraska

First and update on the computer problem. It blew up this morning, but it worked just fine this evening. I have my fingers crossed that the problem is behind me.

It was raining this morning in Ottawa, Illinois. I pulled the bike under the awning in front of the hotel and we loaded it up. The roads were wet but it was mostly drizzle with a bit of real rain until we got west of Davenport, Iowa. At each stop, we took off more gear. By Des Moines, we were down to mesh jackets.

I had to stop a few times just from fatigue. Didn't get a lot of sleep last night while wrestling with the AOL impaired computer. That wore off as the day went on and I was chipper by the time we finished.

There isn't a lot to tell about the ride. We got into the long haul rhythm and the miles slid by. Des Moines, Omaha, Lincoln, Grand Island. I've done this route five times in six years so it is getting to be like a regular commute. The Kearney Arch is still there.

On the plus side, this is the nicest Nebraska crossing I have done. The temperature was in the 80's (10 to 20 degrees cooler than other times) and the humidity was bearable. They say tomorrow the heat will start. We finished in North Platte, Nebraska with 700 miles on for the day, but we didn't feel like we were pushing hard.

I checked the rear tire when we got in. The tread depth is the same as when we left home 1,500 miles ago. I've been keeping the speed down to an indicated 75 MPH to save the tire, but everything is passing me:-) Here's hoping that it keeps on like this.

Tomorrow will see us on the far side of Utah or in eastern Nevada.

Cambridge Ontario to Ottawa Illinois

The rain had mostly let up by 9:00 AM this morning, so we took the gear down and loaded the bike. By the time we hit the road, wearing rain gear because the roads were still wet, it was 9:30. By the time we were 30 miles down the road, the pavement had dried up.

We took the 401 to London and the 402 to Sarnia because it is usually quicker to cross the Bluewater Bridge than the Ambassador. You'll note that I said 'usually'. Today we got to the line for the toll booths on the Canadian side. It wasn't a long line and we were about ten back but it became apparent that it was NOT MOVING. For some reason no one was being allowed onto the bridge. After twenty minutes or so, they started letting the trucks go, but we just sat there. The sun came out. It was getting hot. I said bad words. At least the pig truck finally left.

After another ten minutes or so, they started putting cars through again. We made it all the way to the top of the span before we came to another grinding halt. Anyone who knows my acrophobia would be surprised that sitting next to the edge of a very high bridge didn't bother me at all. It sure surprised me. And next to us, in the truck lane, was the Forsythe Racing car hauler which had Paul Tracy's cars in it. Cool.

With nothing else to do, I watched the line-ups to the Customs booths. Number 12 seemed to be moving faster than the rest so, when we finally got off the bridge, that is where I went. We got the eight cars ahead of me through in the time it took other lines to handle two. The young fellow in the booth asked where we were going and for how long. Then he asked if we were on vacation and I told him we were retired. He then said that the lady on the back of the bike must be my DAUGHTER! While I was working on some witty repartee and Sandy was giggling, he waved us through without even asking for ID.

The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful. Flint, Lansing, Gary Indiana and Chicago. The only place we actually stopped was at the toll booth leaving Chicago on 80, which was much better than our stop and go traverse through here last year. But there is still huge contruction going on.

We made it into Ottawa Illinois about 6:30 Central. Considering we left late and had the delay at the border, 560 miles wasn't bad. The tread depth gauge shows the tires are about the same as they were when we left home, so I am crossing my fingers that they hold up. It's a good sign, anyway.

We had supper at the nearby Cracker Barrel and then repaired to our room where I have been fighting with the infernal computer (thanks again, AOL) ever since. Now it's time for bed.

Oh yes, we fought big head winds all the way. Gas mileage sucked. Expect more of the same tomorrow.

AOL Canada Sucks

First, a short note on how I didn't think I was going to get the blog posted for today. I took the computer out, fired it up and after Windows kicked in, I got the blue screen of death. After some cycling around, I did get a report that said I had a video adaptor problem. I got another that said to check recent installations so I went to the Control Panel and had a look.

To set the scene, I sent AOL Canada a message from home telling them to cancel my dial-up account. At Heather's last night, I logged into AOL on the notebook to see if they had responded in 24 hours as promised. No such luck. I shut down and that's the last time the computer worked. Now I see in the Control Panel that the miserable SOB's installed three programs when I logged in. The nefarious Quicktime was there as well as an AOL update and some fancy screen saver. There was no request or notification to me that they would be installed. The screen saver is probably the one that hacked the video settings although I have never trusted Quicktime either. To top it all off, the install dates were TOMORROW.

By means of a system restore and some messing with the advanced video settings, I got it working now. I can't say for sure that it will continue. Thanks AOL for screwing up my machine.

Cambridge Ontario - Raining

We woke before 6:00 to fog, but it soon started raining. The Doppler shows a front moving through fairly quickly. It looks clear behind it, but the current map shows small rain spinning up on the back side right over us. There have been some serious thunderclaps in the last little while.

We'll wait for it to stop before we head out.

Sudbury Ontario to Cambridge Ontario

We managed to pack everything and load the bike last night. In our lean, mean mode, we cut down on so much stuff that we had room to spare and started frantically checking to see if we had forgotten anything. Couldn't find anything missing.

The plan this morning was to meet the Freedom Riders at a south end Tim Hortons so we could ride the 100 miles south to Parry Sound where we would have lunch and hold our monthly meeting. At 8:00, some overcast rolled in and the weatherman predicted thunderstorms. Some phone calls ensued about whether to ride or not.

At Tim's, four bikes showed up. On the plus side, the overcast had broken and scattered clouds were all that threatened although a stiff west wind was blowing. Since there was only one executive present, the meeting was scrapped but the four elected to continue with the ride and lunch.

We headed south with Quicksilver in the lead. It was a pleasant ride and, by the time we stopped at Pointe Au Baril 75 miles south to meet Jack and Cathay (our Parry Sound members), it was hot and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. So much for the rain. Jack led us to The Whitfield, a small hotel on old Highway 69 south of Parry Sound. It has an outdoor deck overlooking a small lake, but we ate inside. The owners put on a spectacular buffet.

After lunch, we headed south alone. Traffic started building as we neared Barrie with Toronto people heading home from cottage country so we headed west on 89 to Alliston and south on the Tottenham Road. No traffic and some nice curves. As we went west again on Highway 9, a black cloud loomed ahead of us. Whichever way we went, the cloud was still in our path. Then, like many things we worry about in life, we got to it and nothing happened. We came out the other side dry and happy.

In Cambridge, we unloaded at Heather's apartment and then went over to Kim and Mike's house for a BBQ. It was an excellent spread. Many thanks to the chef and cheffette. Then we played a 90's version of Trivial Pursuit where the younger generation trashed us. I guess I missed that decade. Then back to Heather's where we trimmed Penny the guinea pig's claws and turned in for the night.

Preparations For The California Trip

Tomorrow we head out for the next trip. The objective is to get out to Stockton California and spend a few days visiting Don 'Very Short Person' Inamasu. Don gets around and we've seen him various places over the last few years. From there, we'll head over on the 20th to Topaz Lake on the California/Nevada border south of Carson City for the High Sierra VROC gathering. On the Sunday, we'll hot foot it for home since our Freedom Rally here will be two weeks later and I am now the club treasurer.

Since this is a blitz with minimal sightseeing and long riding days, we're leaving the trailer at home and will motel it. I just changed the oil in the bike, and no other maintenance is needed right now. The rear tire finally got down to 4/32nds. The last Dunlop E3 lasted 14,000 kms after it got to 4/32nds and I am hoping this does the same. I'll be monitoring it daily and, if it goes away, we'll be looking for a shop on the road to replace it.

All we have to do now is pack. It will be in lean mode since we don't have the trailer. Now I'll be able to revive my old motto:

Pack light, ride hard and keep your eye on the horizon.

Tomorrow we'll ride to Parry Sound with the Freedom Riders for the monthly meeting and then will head on to Cambridge for an evening with the kids. Monday, the traveling will start in earnest. Stay tuned for further developments.

Sault Ste Marie Ontario - The Reunion

Bawating Collegiate and Vocational School is located on the Second Line in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. It was founded in 1961 and I had the pleasure of attending from the fall of 1967 until the fall of 1970. This should have been the spring of 1971, but I had a falling out with formal education in the first two months of Grade 13 and went to work for Inco in Sudbury. I had planned to go back the following year, but stayed with Inco for thirty years and retired young.

Bawating alumni decided it was time for a reunion in this, the 45th year. I became aware of it last year but thought it was going to be held in October. Recently, I discovered it was scheduled, instead, for the Canada Day Weekend. Unfortunately, I had already registered for the French Connection Rally in the Ottawa Valley. I still haven't got the 'two places at once' thing figured out.

As we were heading for the Black Hills, I got thinking about the reunion. Mom told me Del Weber, a French teacher I had, was inquiring about my address to send me a reunion package. I'm flattered he thought about me after all these years. I looked up the reunion website and saw I was past the cutoff date for registration so I called Mom and got Del's number. I phoned him from Custer and he graciously volunteered to head over to the school and register me. He even put up the fees, trusting soul that he is.

We got home from the trip on Tuesday and headed for the Soo on Friday. I stopped on the way in and picked up the registration package at the host hotel. Everything was a la carte, so I had just chosen the Sunday brunch and the Saturday afternoon at the school. Looks like I should have added the Friday wine and cheese social since that seemed to be a busy event.

We ran into Del at the hotel Friday night. Here's a picture of him and Sandy. I did pay him back. He looks like he has weathered the years well. The school looks just the same. I signed the board, visited the old music room and wandered the halls. Didn't find anyone from my class but did see Dave McMillan, the second on the curling team I viced, that came within one rock of winning the Northern Ontario final and going to the national championship. The team that beat us won the national. At least there was someone there to reminisce with about our one great moment. I also saw Claudio Bertolli, who had been a young Italian teacher back then. I used to work out percentage grades for him on my slide rule in return for beer. He hasn't changed either. Although nobody from my class was there, I did meet some new people.

Mike Carlson, a contemporary of my brothers' and a former neighbor, was there Friday and Saturday so we spent time catching up.

Sunday brunch was a little late so I got talking to some of the committee people. We sat with Mike and his two young daughters when the food came out. There was a good selection and I enjoyed it. Del showed up near the end and I spent more time talking to the organizers. Seems I may have gotten myself on the committee for the 50th. Same old, same old.

We stayed over Sunday night and came back Monday. It was a good weekend but it was disappointing not more of the 70/71 crowd wasn't there. Thinking back, if I hadn't heard from a friend, I would never have known it was going on so we need to sepnd the next five years tracking people down. Sounds like a hobby to me:-)

Catching up

We went out this morning and bought new jeans. I tried some relaxed fit, but Sandy said they made me look like an old farmer. I said old farmers knew comfort was important, but gave in and got some straight legs. After a long time and some help from a spectacular young sales lady, we got Sandy two pairs as well. Tomorrow, we need new running shoes and I need some boots since mine have virtually disintegrated after nine years.

Sandy headed out for her doctor appointment and I took the bike for my visit to the dentist. The tooth doc was jus supposed to take a look and discuss alternatives with me since he was very busy, but he decided he would make the time to fix it. Because of my leaking heart valves, I am supposed to take antibiotics before dental work and I hadn't done so, so he gave me four capsules and had me sit in the waiting room for an hour while they took hold. Then he brought me back in and, with the help of two metal pins, reconstructed a tooth from nothing. I made two appointments for November to get this tooth and the one next to it capped.

The list of things to do isn't getting much shorter, but I have all next week to get things done.

Green Bay Wisconsin to Sudbury Ontario

Last night after I finished posting the Blog, I was laying in bed reading a book and munching on a chocolate bar when I felt another crunch. The tooth I had broken in Combermere, and had the sharp edges ground off as a short term measure in anticipation of a crown this fall, had broken again. This time, all but the outer wall sheared off at the gum line. No pain, but alarming all the same.

It was a clear day in Green Bay as we arose to make the final 500 mile day home. The Weather Channel showed rain up around the Soo moving out. We grabbed a coffee and talked to the Minnesota riders for a bit as we packed up.

US 41 was only moderately busy as we headed north. For some reason, when we crossed into Michigan, I forgot that SR 35 was the shortest way to Escanaba (the hypoteneuse, if you will) and I stayed on US 41. I noticed that things looked different but didn't realize my error until we reached Escanaba from an unexpected direction. Had we taken the short route, we would have avoided a fifteen minute delay at a construction zone on 41. I am becoming more navigationally challenged as time goes by and the GPS is getting to be a necessity rather than a luxury. We connected with US 2 without further confusion.

We stopped at a pretty scenic spot in Manistique across from a motel we have stayed at a few times. There is a lighthouse way in the background in the photo. From here, I phoned the dentist and made an appointment for an assessment on Thursday. I also made a doctor appointment for Sandy to get one of her prescriptions renewed.

Further along, we turned north on SR 117 through Engadine, where five of us got speeding tickets on our way to the Rider Rally in Cody Wyoming back in 1988. Nice cop, reduced the ticket from 79 in a 55 to 60. This road took us up to SR 28 in Newberry and a stop for lunch at McDonalds.

We met two westbound Harley riders at the Mickey D's. They were from the Sudbury area, Falconbridge employees, on their way to a HD gathering in Billings, Montana. They will be staying in Glendive, the town on I-94 where I spent four days on that '88 Cody trip waiting for driveshaft parts for my GL1100. I hope their experience there is better than mine. As a continuation of the Small World theme, they know Sandy's cousin Graham.

SR 28 in Michigan is a dull road, tree lined and a straight as anything in Saskatchewan. It was a relief to finally reach I-75 and make the short run to the border. We fueled up with our last chance for (relatively) cheap gas and headed over the International Bridge. The line-up to get into the US stretched to the middle of the bridge and I wonder how long the rebuilding of the US Border facilities will remain limited to two booths. The Canadian line was much shorter and we were into the booth and cleared without any problems after about ten minutes.

We stopped by Mom's house for coffee. It was a short visit but we'll be back on Friday for the Bawating Collegiate and Vocational School 45th Reunion.

As we headed east for the last 188 miles, a large cloud system was moving east with us. From Echo Bay, the road runs due south for about ten miles and it was a race to see if we could get to the point where it turned east before the rainclouds got over top of us. Dead heat as it started to sprinkle a few drops just before we turned. There were a number of systems and I told Sandy I usually got caught at Bruce Mines. Sure enough, as we got to the town limits, the road turned very wet and, over the next few miles, it rained on us. The good thing was that we missed what looked like some very substantial precipitation.

Coming out of Iron Bridge, we got behind a green GL1500. In one of the passing zones, I got ahead and led them through traffic. They stayed tucked in behind us until I stopped at a scenic rest area alongside the Serpent River. They stopped as well to let me know that my right tail light was out. I informed them that the bulb was in my fairing pocket and explained about sticking isolator relays. They were Norm and Shirley? from Mentor Ohio heading for the ferry from Manitoulin to the Bruce Peninsula on their way home from a run around Lake Superior. Three years ago, they were charged by a Buffalo in Custer State Park so we had something in common.

Norm said he would follow me until they reached Hwy 6 to Manitoulin. In the small town of Spanish, we encountered stopped traffic. The CB told me that two transports had collided head on and that there were fatalities. Lucky for us, it happened in the town so we were able to detour around the scene on back streets. I never knew Spanish had back streets. The townspeople were out in force directing traffic and getting us back on the highway.

At Espanola, Norm and Shirley waved and headed south while we continued on the forty miles to Sudbury. Once in town, I again cursed our mayor and council as we traversed what are consistently the worst paved streets we have encountered in our travels. At home, we unpacked and unhooked quickly and settled down.

We were on the road for 30 days, attended VROC at KSL, Americade, NEVROC Laconia and the Custer Reunion. I was wrong when I said it took us 7,000 miles to get to Custer. It was, after recalculating, only 6,300 miles. The total trip was 7,700 miles and we turned over 60K Km's on Quicksilver yesterday.

Now we have almost two weeks before we head out again for California and High Sierra VROC at Topaz Lake Lodge in Nevada. Lots of chores to get done before that happens.

Sioux Falls South Dakota to Green Bay Wisconsin

It's a Small World After All

We were late getting away this morning since I was determined to get the last day of the Custer Reunion posted. I did, then we took time to have the Days Inn continental breakfast. We skipped the waffles after a kid at the next table screwed up the waffle making machine.

We headed east on I-90 and stopped at a rest area to drain the morning coffee. As usual, an older man wandered over and started asking questions about the bike, the trailer and our travels. As we were leaving, he wished us a good day. I thanked him and told him that with the blue skies and the wind at our back, we couldn’t do otherwise.

In the next rest area, a gentleman from Ann Arbor Michigan asked pretty much the same questions. He was traveling with his wife and mother and they were returning home. He said he had to drop his mother at her home in western Wisconsin. Where, I asked? A little town you probably never heard of, he said. Boscobel. She was very familiar with the VROC gathering there and I told her I attended every second year. The small world thing continues.

Continuing on the now mystical I-90, we slowly caught up to two bikes. The second one was a scooter with a licence plate saying VROOMM. The first one was a Vulcan ridden by a familiar person. We had caught the Batman’s. Marc ‘Batman’ Reed is a VROCer from Cedar Rapids Iowa and was returning from Custer. We waved and, as noted yesterday with Chunk, kept on at our own pace seeing them fade further and further back in our mirror until they disappeared. If we hadn’t just stopped, I would have made the coffee gestures but we were falling behind and needed to make some miles. It’s a VERY small world.

Entering Wisconsin, we stopped again at a rest area. The reason for all the rest stops was because, for some unknown reason, I was getting tired much faster than usual. Ten minutes was enough to get me perked back up but this was unusual. Maybe it was the late night at the computer or maybe I am just burning out.

We rode I-90 to the end at I-94 and cut north two exits so we could take Wisconsin 21 across to Oshkosh. This was a two-lane highway and was a relief after all the Interstate riding we had been doing. Part way along, we stopped at a gas station and had some hot dogs and coffee since I was fading out again. Refreshed, we continued on to Oshkosh and got on 41 North. This road is a multi-lane restricted access route in this part of the country and has a road surface that is rippled. Very disconcerting.

Getting off at the south side of Green Bay, we decided to try an Exel Inn. The rates are low but the room proved to be OK and, a must, they have WiFi. After getting settled, we headed next door to Denny’s for a light bite to eat. Upon our return, we found the parking lot full of eight bikes from Minnesota returning from circumnavigating Lake Superior. We chatted a bit and then adjourned to our respective rooms.

As I was Blogging, Heather called from Milwaukee. She had flown down there earlier today on business and was just checking in. She was surprised to find we were so close to her.

I called Mom to tell her to expect us tomorrow shortly after noon for coffee and Sandy called her Mom to tell her we’d be home tomorrow night. I now need to get my list of purchases together for Customs and my list of things to do once we get home so nothing gets forgotten. Today marks four weeks since we left home.

Custer South Dakota to Sioux Falls South Dakota

We were up before 6:00 AM. Didn’t see the first bike to pull out but Cargo’s bike was missing. We opened the door and found Bucky, Scorp and Dutch getting ready as well as our next door neighbor Lanny from Arizona with his granddaughter Patience. It was a cold morning, but everyone was cheerful contemplating an early start.

We opened the trailer and stowed the gear as people started leaving in ones and twos. Wompus and Montene of Georgia prepared to continue on west and Malachi, Yvette and Trevor loaded up to return to Colorado. (Reminder to self: send Mal Harry Chapin's All My Life's A Circle)

It was while I was watching everyone pull out that I considered a change of plans. Next weekend is my high school reunion in Sault Ste. Marie, a destination that arose from a change of plans the week before. We had 1,400 miles to go and six days to get there. But we’ve been on the road a month so, after consulting The Boss, I decided we would run straight home and start getting things ready for the west trip. Then we will head back the 180 miles to the Soo on Friday for the Reunion.

Now that I had another plan, we hooked up and headed out. We took the scenic way across 244 by Mount Rushmore. At the profile view parking area, there was a family of mountain goats feeding on the side of the road with many spectators watching. We rolled on past the great carved heads, George, Tom, Teddy and Honest Abe, on down through Keystone City and north towards Rapid City. There we took the truck by-pass and stopped at the McD’s at I-90 for the usual.

Once on I-90, the pace picked up. I was doing an indicated 120 KPH and was one of the slowest vehicles out there. After Wall, I started to get a bit drowsy and pulled into a rest area to stretch my legs. I need to mention two guys we met on Thursday at the Flying J as we pulled off I-90. One was on a black Wing towing a trailer and the other was on a Yamaha Venture. They were from Iowa and we talked a bit. I saw them riding through Custer on Saturday and now, right out of the blue, they pulled into the rest area right behind us. Small world. We laughed about that.

Later on, about 2:00 PM, we were navigating eastwards near Vivian SD when I saw we were being overtaken by another bike. As it got closer, I saw it was the familiar Kawasaki Concours towing a camper trailer of Chunk Keisling. Chunk is another VROCer who travels widely and we see often. He made the coffee motion so we got off at the Vivian exit and got let into the local restaurant just as they were closing the doors. It seems they finish at 2:00 on Sunday. We all had coffee and Chunk had pie. Thanks for the coffee, my friend. Then, in true VROC style, we set out at our individual paces and the last we saw was him pulling out of sight ahead of us.

Later, we were passed by a solo rider on a GS-1200 BMW. At the next rest area, he was stopped for a smoke and a free coffee. It seems he was from Peterborough, Ontario and was ferrying his bike back from Seattle where it had ended up after spending the winter in Mexico.

As we rode along looking at the spectacular (read boring cornfield) SD scenery, We talked about changing some more plans. The run out to Stockton California and back to Topaz Lake Nevada next month was originally going to be another back road wanderfest towing the trailer and camping, but I suddenly had an urge to make it a destination ride. Leave the trailer at home, pack light and ride hard. This will cut the time on the road and should save a few dollars while still allowing us to see the people we want to. It should also give us the time to attend Dave McLeod’s poker run in Cheyenne Wyoming. Plans were made to change. At this point, the idea of running light appeals to me.

We were debating where to stop and camp when I pulled off at Sioux Falls. We decided that, since we were runnin g direct, we would motel instead. Went into a Day’s Inn with WiFi and was quoted a rate of $78.00 since summer rates had kicked in. When I made as if to leave, she knocked it down to $57.00,which seemed fair.

I checked the NASCAR results and called Mom to congratulate her on winning the week, as well as to tell her of our revised plans. Then we went over to Perkins and had supper. Then I updated two days of Blog before calling it a night. One more Custer day to get done in the morning.

Custer South Dakota - Needles, Iron Mountain and the Reptile Gardens

The sky was clear this morning but the Weather Channel was advising of possible thunderstorms. Nothing new here. We had breakfast at the Dakota Cowboy Inn with Auggie and Sue and then bid them farewell since they were heading home this morning.

We, along with Willie Wonka and Mike (Silverbiker), decided it looked like a fine day to catch up on our riding. We left town going north on 89 to the Custer State Park gate. The $5 each covered access to the park for a week. We headed on up the Needles Highway.

The Needles are awesome vertical rock formations. They are near the end of the steep and winding road we started at. At the Needles, there is a parking lot and then the road passes through a tunnel. As we were looking around, I heard bikes coming the other way and figured them coming through the tunnel would make a good picture. I had no idea who was coming but, after getting some pictures, I saw it was Scotty from Michigan. Scotty and I have traveled far and wide together in the past. His partner Marlene and brother Wag were with him.

A little ways along on the other side of the tunnel, there is a scenic overlook. We stopped and got a picture of Willie Wonka with the Needles in the background. For those who know bikes, Willie has a Kawasaki Vulcan Classic with Suzuki Cavalcade trunk and saddkebags, a Harley fairing and a Honda sound system. Willie tinkers a bit and he also has an 1800 GoldWing at home.

The Needles Highway is the type of road we like to ride; tight, twisty and in good condition. Cars we came up behind pulled over and let us go as soon as they could.

At the end of the road, we turned left on 16A and stopped in at the Custer State Park Visitor Center, a very nice facility. There were four rangers on duty and Pat Sharp appeared to be the ringleader. She’s on the right in the photo and we had some good laughs with them.

From the Center, we continued following 16A, which became what is known as The Iron Mountain Highway. This is even tighter than the Needles Highway. We wandered up and down, around and around. We crossed a meadow where burrows were begging for food. We went up the switchbacks to the summit where we could see Mount Rushmore and, once again, ran into Scotty, Marlene and Wag. We descended more switchbacks and crossed the Pigtail Bridges, where the road loops back under itself with the upper supported by timbers. We went through tunnels that framed Mount Rushmore, miles away.

Finally, we arrived in the town of Keystone, which I don’t ever remember seeing before. It is, how shall I say it, tourist oriented? It made me think of Clifton Hill in Niagara Falls although not quite so garish. We continued on down 16A past the Mount Rushmore entrance and on down 16 towards Rapid City and our next destination, Reptile Gardens.

Sandy and I had visited Reptile Gardens in 1978 and had been impressed by the collection. This time, we saw almost every venomous snake I have ever heard of and a few I hadn’t. I got to see three different varieties of Taipan, one of which (the inland taipan or fierce snake) is billed as the deadliest in the world. There was also a Komodo dragon, the first I have seen live. There is a central dome covered area with exotic plants, some birds and the odd boa constrictor hanging around. It took some persuasion to get Sandy to pose under the boa.

The young man doing the show with the alligators was funny. His routine was polished but delivered naturally. The most entertaining part of the place, however, was the prairie dog enclosure out back. Watching the little rats run around and interact with each other was, at times, hilarious. They even have a dome where, if you go down underneath, you can get a prairie dog’s eye view of the goings on. Sherm beat us to it.

We headed back south past Rushmore and into Keystone City where we stopped at a Dairy Queen for some Brazier food. We met a Vulcan rider from Minnesota who had never heard of VROC, so we talked a bit. Then we went across 244 and down 16 to the Crazy Horse Memorial.

Crazy Horse has been under construction since the 1940’s. One man, Korsczak Ziolkowski, started working on this in the 1940’s at the request of Lakota Chief Standing Bear. His family continues the work to this day and it is expected to take decades to complete. The face is now visible. More information can be found at www.crazyhorse.org.

On the way out, we met two more couples from Minnesota, one on a new Nomad. We had to chat with them for a while. Then we headed back to Custer, only four miles down the road. When we got to the Rock Crest, someone had provided coke and a variety of pizzas. There was, as usual, a donation bowl to cover the cost.

The GPS story got interesting here. We had been talking the first night about how it would be nice to have a GPS that showed Doppler weather on it. We wondered why this had not been done. It seems we were behind the times because Ham, of the Pacific NW, has a Garmin 376C on his new GoldWing and it does all this and more. It takes the weather info from XM Satellite Radio and is also a radio player itself. It costs about twice what a normal GPS does, but being able to see where the rain is would be priceless.

We socialized for a while and then they called us together for the group photo. Sandy got her moose hat so we should be able to pick her out. We should also be able to see quite a few Sherm’s. Then we got a picture of the Canadians, led by the very strong Alberta contingent. Then we went next door for pie. Sandy kept the moose hat on and got a lot of comments.

As the evening wore on, people slipped away after saying their goodbyes. Many will be at other gatherings this year so we’ll be seeing them again. This took the edge off the farewells. Finally, when there were only a couple of people left about midnight, Sandy and I said our goodbyes to those remaining and went back to the room.

Custer South Dakota - Wind Cave And The Buffalo

It rained overnight. Since the bike wasn’t covered, I took advantage of its soaked state to get out the magic microfiber cloths and scrap off some of the worst bugs and dirt. When I got done it was about, as my friend Ted Boyd likes to say, good from far but far from good.

We caught up with Auggie and Sue, along with our good friend Willie Wonka of Illinois and our new friend Mike aka Silverbiker of Utah. I found the chicken fried steak breakfast to be excellent but a little too much.

The weather looked threatening so, after breakfast, we decided to limit ourselves to a short run and then we would see what was going to happen. Sandy and Sue swapped rides with Sandy on Auggie’s Nomad and Sue on with me to see what the wing rode like. We decided to go north on US 16 and come back south on US 89. The pavement got wet just as we got to. The ladies switched back to their real bikes and I led up the twisty road taking it easy for the first few miles until the pavement dried out. We stopped at the gate to Custer State Park, the entrance to the Needles Highway, but chose not to pay the $5 each today. We continued back to Custer on 89 and stopped at the Rocket Motel where the rest of the crew were waiting.

I had called Bushtec before we left to talk to someone about the FUBAR relay box for the trailer lights. They took my number and said someone would call. I now checked my voicemail and found that, for some reason, my phone wasn’t receiving incoming calls. There was a message from Andrew Preston, CEO of Bushtec. He was at the Honda Hoot in Nashville and left his cell phone number. I called him and explained the situation. He said a new relay box would be in the mail to Sudbury today. I continue to admire these peoples’ dedication to customer support.

I also took a few minutes and called my high school French teacher, Del Weber, to see if he could do anything about getting me registered for the reunion next weekend since registrations and fees were supposed to have been in by the 15th. We had a pleasant chat and he offered to register Sandy and I and I could pay him when I got there. He remembered way too much about me since I haven’t seen him in 35 years, but that’s the kind of guy he is. Anyway, that is now taken care of.

We gradually migrated back to Reunion HQ at the Rock Crest. When we arrived, we were pleased to find that the infamous Scorpion and the famous Dutch of Washington state had finally arrived after being delayed by weather in Gillette, Wyoming. A few of us wandered over to the purple pie facility next door and ordered various kinds of pie and ice cream. After finishing, we departed while Scorp was in the men’s room. Nothing is too good for the Arachnid.

As we were hanging out with Willie Wonka, the skies cleared. Willie said Mike wanted to go to Wind Cave National Park. We couldn’t find Mike, so we chose to go ourselves. I took the lead and we rode south until I saw a sign that said “park” to the left. It took us eight miles up a very twisty road and then across some open plains full of buffalo, antelope and prairie dogs before we discovered it was the wrong park. We were heading north back into Custer State Park. I really need that GPS. We turned around and headed back.

On the return trip, we were on a two lane road with deep ditches and then hills bordering both sides. As we came around a corner, we saw two large buffalo RUNNING TOWARDS US. They were coming up the right side of the road so I pulled far left and stopped. Willie and I conferred quickly on the CB’s and determined that turning around and backing up were out of the question. One buffalo ran down into the ditch, but the other one stopped about 100 feet in front of us, set his front feet, lowered his head and stared at us. Our response was to not move a muscle. He stared for what seemed like three days but was, in reality, a minute or so. My mind kept replaying the story from the night before about a buffalo flipping a Harley with its horns. Then, he started to walk on down the right side of the road. We waited until he was almost even with us so he wouldn’t have a chance to turn on us when we started moving. Then we dropped the clutches and hauled out of there.

Back at the main road, we found Wind Cave park about a mile past where I had turned. Again we stamped the Passport book and talked to a ranger about the buffalo. She had no better idea about how to handle the situation, but told us that buffalo really don’t like motorcycles. Now we find out!

On coming out, we looked north and saw black clouds. Ugly black clouds. We asked an NPS lady cleaning the parking lot which way Custer was. She pointed at the cloud and laughed. Willie said she sounded just like the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz. I can’t disagree. We laughed back, dithered about about whether we could make it the 20 miles back without getting beat up by a storm the weather radio was now describing as “severe with damaging winds and hail”. Then we went for it.

The run north was done at speed. As we got closer, we could see lightning bolts. Then, as we got closer to town, Willie told me on the CB that the radio said they had cancelled the thunder storm warning. As he was telling me this, there were five lightning bolts and rain started to hit my windshield. My opinion of weathermen remains unchanged.

It wasn’t a hard rain, but when we got to town, there was a line of cars at the traffic light we needed to turn at. We could see the Rock Crest, but the first green light only allowed three cars through and then there was a lady who seemed afraid to turn right on the red light. I could just visualize the downpour catching us stranded within sight of our goal. The rain was picking up so we pulled off the road under an awning at the car wash on the corner. When the traffic cleared, I pulled back onto the street using the pedestrian wheelchair ramp and made a dash to the Rock Crest, pulling the bike under the overhang. We beat the downpour by five minutes. Others weren’t so lucky.

We sat around under the awning watching those riders with less luck than us straggle in. Stories were shared, jokes were told. The rain ended and, eventually, Sandy and I headed back to the Dakota Cowboy Inn for a bite to eat. Paul “Slots” Manske, a friend from Reno Nevada joined us. Slots was heavily involved in the casino business before his recent retirement and told us some stories about the inside workings of the business. It was fascinating. Time spent with Slots is always a pleasure.

We returned to the Rock Crest and mingled with the hordes of VROCers in the parking lot. A while later, Barb Foree (4E) of Holbrook Arizona found me and said she needed $15. I can never refuse Barb anything so I forked it over without question. It seems I had bought Sandy a moose hat. I expect she will be in a lot of pictures.
After parading her new hat around for a while, Sandy went to bed. It was cold and damp, but I stuck it out for a while longer before hitting the hay. It had been an interesting day.

Picktown South Dakota to Custer South Dakota

Hills of Colour would be U-Turn's politically correct name for the Black Hills.

The Weather Channel showed rain in SW South Dakota over the roads we planned to travel. Pickstown didn’t have much to offer in the morning so we set out west on US 18. The first thing we had to do was cross the Fort Randall Dam. I hadn’t realized that this dam was built across the Missouri River but now I understand why the Missouri is so wide where I-90 crosses it up north at Chamberlain.

There was virtually no traffic as we moved along with the rising sun at our back. Deer alert was working but we only saw a couple out in the fields. In the small town of Burke (pop. 676), we stopped for gas at a small filling station/store. Since we hadn’t had our coffee yet, we poured some and sat down at on of two small tables they had. There was an older gentleman at the next table in a cowboy hat and plaid shirt and we got talking to him about weather, farming, the Black Hills and (of all things) Niagara Falls. This is one of the things I like about not rushing so much.

From Burke, we went on to Winner where they have an actual McDonalds. It was McGriddle time. I asked an older man at the next table if he knew how Winner got its name but he said he didn’t know. He was joined by another man and asked him. It seems there were two towns near each other. The railway picked one of them when it was laying out its route west and that one was called the Winner. The other one disappeared.

Outside Winner, I was flipping between two channels on the weather band radio. The station in South Dakota was saying how SD rainfall to-date was way below normal while the Nebraska station was reporting much higher than usual precipitation. On average, I guess they average out but that wasn’t helping the farmers.

There was going to be a detour west of Winner since they had closed US 18 for road work. We would be sent up US 183, across SD 44 and back down US 83. There was a decision to be made, however, based on the weather. Ahead to the southwest, the rain we saw on the morning Doppler appeared to still be falling. If we continued with the original plan of approaching Custer from the south, we could very well get wet. I hate wet. At the crossroads of Wite River, we changed the plan and stuck on SD 44 to the little town of Interior which is the south entrance to the Badlands National Park.

We entered the park using our National Parks Pass. After a quick stop at the Visitor’s Center to get the Passport book stamped, we set out up the 29 mile scenic road that twists and winds through the pretty colours of the eroded landscape. We stopped at several of the lookouts. At one, a ranger was going back to his truck with a snake stick. I asked what he had done with the snake and he said he had thrown it over the edge. Apparently, up to this year, there have only been four snake bites in the history of the park. This year, so far, there have been two so they are being careful. At another, we had a long talk with a gentleman from Colorado who, along with his wife, was taking his grandchildren on a vacation. We also spent some time talking to some riders returning to Illinois after a tour of Wyoming. They were very interested in the trailer.

It was very hot and dry in the Badlands. We finished the road and cut up to I-90 at Wall. Although the $0.05 coffee was tempting, we skipped the infamous Wall Drug and headed for Rapid City on I-90. The road was down to single lane for a ways as they are upgrading the pavement. Near Rapid City, we passed Ellsworth Airforce Base where two B-1 Lancer bombers were practicing touch and go. In the old days, we used to see B-52’s here but times have changed. They were elegant looking aircraft and watching the low level maneuvering was interesting.

We skipped downtown Rapid City by taking the Truck 16 route around town. As we connected with US 16 south of town, we could see a large black cloud hanging over the Black Hills. It looked to me like it might be right over Custer. We raced down 16 past the entrance to Mount Rushmore and on, through some road construction, to Hill City. Custer was only a few miles but the black cloud was right in front of us. I suggested rain gear but Sandy’s response was negative so, in a fit of stupidity, I didn’t stop. Just as we got far enough that we couldn’t pull over, it started. As I rode along in my mesh jacket with no gloves feeling the cold rain chill me, Sandy and I had a talk about life, the Universe and everything. Bottom line was that I would not take weather advice from here ever again.

Arriving in Custer, I wasn’t sure where the Rock Crest Lodge, center of activities and our home for the next three nights, was. I made a lucky guess at an intersection and we rode straight to it. Many VROCers had already arrived so hugs, greetings and introductions were exchanged as we got checked in. No WiFi, so we would be out of touch. We went across the road to the restaurant at the Dakota Cowboy Inn with Auggie and Sue, our good friends from Iowa, for supper. I saw a thing called a Buffalo Hongo on the menu. It was ½ pound of ground buffalo covered with brwn gravy and wine soaked mushrooms along with fries. Since I had never had anything like it, I gave it a try. Sandy stuck wth Chicken Parmesan.

People at the Rock Crest started kicking back and Piper, our resident vendor, put out the merchandise. New items included strange hats.

It was strange that our friend Sherm, convalescing at home from the recent accident, was not only there in spirit, but also seemed to keep appearing in photos. Based on these, I think he was having a lot of fun. John Hanneman, another VROC Winger, phoned him and a lot of people got to say Hi. Sherm’s absence was the only dark spot on an otherwise perfect evening.

Sandy turned in early while I stayed up a while to visit. Eventually, the days caught up with me and I toddled off as well.

Burlington Iowa to Picktown South Dakota

Today was the first day of summer and the longest day of the year. It started with the local rain clearing out to the northwest just as we got up. The Weather Channel radar showed red and yellow all up along I-80 so, once again, I felt pretty good about detouring south. There were some severe thunderstorm warnings, but no sign in the sky.

We road west to Ottumwa where, after a search, we found a McDonalds for the obligatory McGriddle for Sandy. We got gas and, since it was spitting, we put the suits on loosely. This meant nothing was done up tight but could be while we were riding.

As we continue west on US 34, we rode between storm systems to the north and the south. Near the west side of the state, the clouds dissipated and the SW wind changed to a strong gusting north wind. We stopped in Red Oak for gas and took off the suits under blue skies and 88F temperatures. We dug out the water retaining neckbands that Sherm gave us last year to cool us down.

While at the station in Red Lodge, I noticed the right turn signal bulb on the bike was still lit even though the ignition was off. The trailer wiring harness is isolated from the bike and draws its power directly from the battery. Each circuit is controlled by an electrical switch called a relay run from the bike circuits. The relay had stuck. This happened last year and Bushtec, the hitch manufacturer, sent me a replacement. I sent the bad unit back to them in Tennessee for an autopsy. Well it has now happened to the new unit, which wasn’t easy to install, and it was the same light again. After fooling with it, I pulled the bulb and had to use hand signals for right turns.

South of Council Bluffs, we caught I-29 to the northwest. We followed the Missouri River to Sioux City Iowa where we stopped to consider our plans. There was a nice KOA just over the river on the South Dakota side, but it was early and we decided to run some more miles. On up I-29 we got off at SD 50 and went into a tourist info place to find out what things were like along US 18 since it looked pretty bleak on the map. The nice lady gave us maps and told us where services were. She also warned us about a detour where 18 was closed west of Winner. Lastly, they gave us a DVD promoting the Sturgis Black Hills Motorcycle Rally. It was nice to see the government promoting this even though we won’t be going since we dislike large crowds.

The first part of SD 50 was inhabited but, as we got further out, it got quite empty. It was, however, much prettier than I-90. Finally, after going through a few small towns and changing to SD 46, we got to Picktown. This small town is right above the Fort Randall Dam and must be South Dakota’s version of Dog River Saskatchewan. If you non-Canucks don’t get the reference, this is a Canadian TV series based in a fictional Saskatchewan town. Action is based around a gas bar/café. Note the Fort Randall Bait & Tackle Café adjoining the gas station.

We got a room at the Fort Randall Inn. It’s a nice little place and even has WiFi so I can get this caught up. We went over to Bryndy’s Steakhouse & Lounge for a good supper and then I settled in to do my Blogging.

Tomorrow, we have about 319 miles plus the detour to Custer. I also have looked up the Bushtec number so I can phone them about the relay. It will be good to get in and join the VROC Madhouse Forum for a few days.

Vermillion Ohio to Burlington Iowa

The plan from Vermilion was to head straight west on I-80 and make up some of the time we lost wandering and looking for tires. Then I saw the morning weather forecast calling for severe storms around I-80 west of Chicago. The back roads were our favourite anyway so we took 2 to Sandusky and headed southwest on US 6. Before Indiana, we caught US 24 and headed due west through Fort Wayne. The two lanes only had light traffic so we made good time.

In Illinois, we got some raindrops and put on the gear again. That was it for the rain, but the decision to go south was a good one because we could see major ugly weather to the north. Crossing into the Central Time Zone gave us an extra hour to ride.

About an hour out of Peoria, on the two-lane, we come upon a slow moving line of traffic. As soon as I saw a clear spot, and on a dotted line, I started passing them. As I went by a tanker and needed to pull in, I saw he was only about eight feet off the back of the van in front of him. I signaled and pulled in expecting him to give a little bit of ground. He did but laid on the air horn. This caused me to turn on the CB and ask him just what his problem was. He started ranting about motorcycles cutting through traffic and said he would run me down if I did it again. I asked him who the bigger threat was, me passing in a clear spot on a legal dotted line or him tailgating a line of traffic with 80,000 pounds of truck under him. Then I shut off the radio, passed the rest of the line and was gone.

We caught I-74 from Peoria to Galesburg after finding the on ramp in a mess of construction. The ride up 74 skirted one rain storm with the rest of the sky clearing. In Galesburg, we took US 34 to Burlington Iowa on the bank of the Mississippi River. There we found the Arrowhead Inn, an interesting place with slate floors in the rooms and huge fish in tanks in the lobby. The owner told me about a local plan to build a man made lake to float a riverboat casino in. Interesting.

Supper was club sandwiches ordered from Aunt Bea’s Restaurant. They were huge and they were delicious. It took me all evening to eat mine as I worked at catching up the Blog entries and watched the thunderstorms roll in. I don’t mind them nearly as much when I am under a roof. The Weather Channel was predicting serious storms north of I-80, so the southern strategy appeared to be the correct one.

Horseheads New York to Vermillion Ohio

The weather was OK in the morning at Horseheads. Rather than take the Interstate, we turned on 417 at Corning and headed for Olean on the two-lane road. It was a pleasant ride until the rain started spitting so we put on the rain suits. There were no Mickey D’s so we stopped at a Dunkin Donuts in a little town and had their breakfast sandwiches. Sandy didn’t like it but I did. I guess I won’t be getting any more DD……

The rain started to get serious while we were inside. We met two older couples on Voyagers returning from Laconia. One was almost home but their partners were heading into Ohio. Called the bank and the fellow I spoke to said he would get things straightened out.

We headed on in the increasing rain to Olean where the skies opened up. A frog would have drowned in that rain. There was a WalMart so I stopped to ask about tires. They had the size but they were only two-ply. Darcia, the tire manager, called around and couldn’t find any so she sent us down the road to Jamestown to a trailer place.

The rain stopped by the time we got to Jamestown on the superslab. The trailer place didn’t have any either, but the called around town for us. This also came up empty so they suggested Erie. On we went on I-86 and then I-90. I stopped in town at a full service garage and asked them who would have tires. They sent us to Firestone downtown, who had none, but Josh the tire manager called and found a Firestone place on the outskirts had eight of them. I was impressed by the effort these people put out even when there was no way we would be buying from them.

After arriving at Mark’s Tire Service on West Lake Drive, they got right on it and had both tires installed in no time flat. While we were waiting, I realized our day was going a lot slower than planned and that we would probably only get to Cleveland that night. I called Jan Hooks, who lives in Vermilion between Cleveland and Sandusky to see if they had room to put us up. She said to come on down and gave me directions.

With the tires on, we thanked all the staff at Mark’s and got up on I-90 for the run to Vermilion. All was well until Painesville Ohio, where we were faced with another looming storm ahead of us. We got gas and put the suits on. Again. A short burst of heavy wind caused me to move the bike to the lee side of the station. After it looked like it had passed, we headed back out and, from the perspective of the road, saw the second storm looked worse. The clouds had a decidedly green tinge to them. As the rain started pouring down and lightning was crashing around us, we rode into a single lane construction zone. Luckily, we got through it in about 15 miles and the roads were drying by the time we got to Cleveland.

Cleveland at rush hour is only slightly better than Pittsburgh. We inched along through the S-bends, but things started picking up as we went past Jacobs Field. From there, it started flowing and we highballed it to Chez Hooks. I found after getting my boots off that the new socks weren’t quite colourfast.

We garaged the bike and trailer in Rob’s other garage. He has two of them. After a drink and some visiting, we sat down to a fine supper of chicken, corn on the cob and potato salad. We looked at some pictures of their recent European cruise, had another drink and then called it a night.

Many thanks to Rob and Jan for the hospitality. It was good to see you again.