78518 - 79060

This isn't going well. I'm very discouraged. I don't even want to write, but here goes...

The mileage listed in the title is actually two days. It's embarrassing. Two days ago it was 94 degrees here in Denton, TX. Today the high was 45 with wind gusts regularly at 45 MPH. The wind chill was probably 20 degrees alone and about -135 on the motorcycle. Back when I was driving across South Dakota on my cross-country trip, it was 112 degrees. I kept thinking that if those big hay jelly rolls spontaneously burst into flames, it wouldn't faze me. I also knew that someday I'd be riding my bike and freezing, and that I should think back to being cooked that summer and maybe I'd average out to a comfortable temperature. Yeah... no. I tried. I honestly tried to psych myself to that place, but no such luck.

Back to yesterday morning. The temps were below freezing when we left the hotel. It really didn't feel too bad. The sun was out, and it was windy but not terrible. We finally got out of Colorado, into Oklahoma, and into Texas. In Texas we passed through this huge wind farm. It didn't seem so big as we were approaching, but at one point there were a couple of rows of windmills ahead of us, and I could look in the mirrow and see several behind me. It was impressive.

When we stopped for lunch, we sat in a warm, sunny window of the Subway. We chose not to get gas there, since it wasn't that far to Amarillo. With Amarillo being a rather large dot on a map of Texas, one could expect a little urban sprawl with a gas station or two before reaching the city limits. I hit reserve about 25 miles short of Amarillo. It took me a second or two to get the valve twisted from "on" to "res". It's one of those things that requires a strong opposable thumb on the left hand - something I don't have yet. One would think that four months after the surgery I'd be at 100%, but no. My hand made some great progress quickly, but the last 15 to 20% has been slow. Anyway, when I finally got some gas running through the carb, I sped up to Dan and gave him the hand signal for "I need gas NOW!" Of course there's just so much you can do without an available gas station. We slowed down a little. My hope would rise along with the road, and drop as we'd crest the hill and see there was nothing in sight. Amarillo was visible in the distance, but the odometer was ticking and eventually I was done.

I told Dan I'd be fine while he went ahead and found gas. I sat on the side of the road, with my Glock tucked in the pocket of my chaps, and ate the contents of a couple of the snack baggies I had filled with Jelly Bellies, Twizzler bites, and jelled Scandanavian aquatic creatures. I'm not sure why I packed them, but between that and the ability to surf the web on my cell phone, the wait was bearable. Unfortunately I spent the warmest part of the day sitting in that spot. Dan eventually got back, carrying a gallon water jug filled with gasoline on his lap. The day had warmed up nicely, but as we turned onto the bypass and put the sun at our backs, the chill came back. We eventually made it to Childress where we got dinner and a hotel room. I had to call my friend in Denton and tell her we wouldn't be making it that night; we were still 200 miles away.

This morning seemed so nice from the widow at the Super 8 motel. When I looked out the window, I saw a warm glow on my chrome front end from the rising sun. I described it to Dan, and it almost sounded like poetry. I told him it could be a Haiku. We laughed when I said I should write poetry about my motorcycle. I laughed to the point of snorting, and then tears, when we said simultaneously, "There once was a bike from Nantucket..."

It seemed like a great start to the day. We planned on making it 100 miles to Wichita Falls where we'd stop for a late breakfast. We made it 30 miles to the next town when I made the signal for, "Let's stop and eat." I figured it would warm up while we were eating. I figured wrong. The high for the day was about the time we went in for breakfast. The temperature had dropped by the time we came out. We made it to the outskirts of Wichita Falls, where we saw a Harley dealership and stopped. I fantasized about a big fireplace in the dealership, but with this being Texas, it seemed silly. Not so! There was a nice on there, and we parked our frozen buns in front of it for quite a while. There's no way in the world I'd give up my Softail, but those brand new Street Glides with their fairings were looking pretty sweet. We eventually left and headed on.

This is when things went from not-so-good to fairly unbearable. We looked at the map and planned a route that bypassed Dallas to the north. It seemed like we got turned around, so we stopped, pulled out the map, and decided we needed to get on 44 East. The wind was no longer a nuisance. It was now impeding our progress. Dan pulled off again, insisting we were going the wrong way, because the wind should not have been coming head on. Plus, the sign said we were headed for Oklahoma City. I resisted, but he finally pulled out the GPS, which proved he was correct. I'm still not sure how 44 eastbound goes due North to Oklahoma City, but it does. We finally got going in the right direction.

I thought getting off the main road would be better. At this point the wind was gusting so hard I had to get on the inside of the lane behind Dan so I wouldn't get pushed off the road. We made it to Nocona and stopped at a gas station on the east side of town. While I was breaking in the suicide lane, I must have hit some sand. My rear tire went out from under me, my brakes locked, and there was a loud screech. By the Grace of God, I didn't go down. Maybe the tens of thousands of miles of experience and my MSF RiderCoach training helped too. As Dan and I sat at a table in the gas station's eating area, he mentioned that it didn't look like we were going to make Daytona by the time we need to in order for me to be in the ride. I was crushed. I texted the friend I was supposed to stay at the night before and asked her what the weather looked like. 45 degrees and windy. The story of our trip. This was where we were supposed to spend last night, and at 4:00pm we were still west of Denton. Lisa told us to come in and spend the night. I felt like a jerk having blown her off last night, but I was so grateful to have a home to go to. We blasted the 60 or so miles there, had dinner, and now I'm in bed writing about all of this.

Dan and I have gone over all of our options. I'm not ready to give up on the MDA ride, but it isn't looking good. The forecast was revised to show lower temps yet again. It's snowing in much of the deep South, and it's warmer in Denver than in Key West right now. We've been on the Internet and think we might be able to find a heated vest at the Bass Pro Shop about 20 miles from here. I am determined to make it.

For any of you who donated to MDA as a result of my partaking in this ride, I am doing my best to make it happen. I am not going to give up yet, but it's very possible that we just might not make it in time. At least MDA will have the money for research and be closer to finding answers that will help so many. Please know that I appreciate your support, and I'm doing everything I can to get there. Dan has also been amazing in his support, and I thank him for sticking with me through this. As I noted in my Facebook status, I don't know what made me think that taking a cross-country ride in the middle of winter was a good idea. But, the fat lady has not yet sung. We're moving on tomorrow.

78302 - 78518

As Dan and I were pulling out of the apartment complex for the first time, he reminded me to reset my trip odometer. I noticed that I was exactly 6,000 miles from when I picked up the bike after the wreck. I don't feel like I did any substantial riding last year. I got the bike back at the beginning of August, took a weekend ride up to Aspen with a big loop around the northern side of the Black Canyon and Gunnison, and had a 5 day jaunt down around Ouray where I was frying a headlight bulb every time I hit a bug. I didn't get nearly as much riding in as I had hoped, since I was more focused on getting back to the campground before dark and fixing my electrical problem. Then came the wrist surgery, in the beginning of November, which made a very precise end to the riding season. Not sure how I wracked up the miles, but the important part is that I'm back on the road.

Dan needed to drop a package in the FedEx box at the post office across the street. On the way over, I noticed that my tire was scraping every time I hit a bump. When I had my rear tire changed last week, the mechanic said it scraped when he took it for a test ride. He had looked at it and noticed that the tire had worn a spot in the plastic taillight/license plate holder that extends from the bobtail fender. For some reason it didn't seem like a big deal. I didn't notice anything when I rode it home that day, probably because the wind was blowing so hard I was more concerned with keeping the bike upright.

We tried to bend the license plate up, but that did nothing. We went back to my garage to fix it. The idea was to use the Dremel tool to cut the plastic piece down to where it wouldn't scrape the tire. The Harley-Davidson general repair tool of choice is no longer a bigger hammer. It's the Dremel tool. We've used it for a few things. Dan started with one attachment, which ended up adding little caves to the mountains on my Colorado license plate. After the first attempt, I took it for a test ride, but it was still scraping. Another attachment did a quicker job of lopping off a bigger piece, and the test drive was successful. We were finally able to get out of there. While we were quite a bit later than planned getting out, I'm really glad that we figured it out before we were too far from home. I told Dan at the next red light that life is a lot better when you believe in God. Instead of being frustrated with the setback, it was easy to assume that there was some good reason for it, like not getting plowed over by a semi that got caught in a gust of wind.

The ride after that was uneventful. It was pretty good weather for February, but it cooled quickly when the sun went behind a cloud, and it was behind clouds more often than it was out. Things were looking a little grim until we headed south. We stopped for gas in Kit Carson, the one gas pump in a 50 mile radius. It did warm up quite a bit, to about 60, as sunset approached. Our shadows stretched out to the east, and there was a soothing glow. At that time, we were on a curving overpass, crossing the road we were about to merge with. A car carrier was on the low road, driving up to meet us in a quarter mile. While listening to Bob Seger sing "Like a Rock", I imagined what the leaning motorcycles on the overpass must have looked like in the color of the sunset. It was one of those moments where everything just feels good.

We made it to Lamar, where we looked around for a campground. We found a place that's a motel/RV park that has a sandy spot for tents. With a forecast of 20 degrees and high winds, we pulled a Dave Ramsey and got a really good deal on a room with log furniture and accented with corrugated and rusted tin framed by rough cut wood. There are also fake trees and fishing poles and fish and nets everywhere.

We're looking at about 540 miles tomorrow. With temps starting below freezing, it's probably going to be a long day. Good night!

Heading out

Finally riding again. Wrist surgery on November 4th, due to the accident, put a damper on riding. Thankfully it was the off-season. I've ridden a few miles since installing an easy-clutch. Dan and I are heading for Daytona today. I tried to put my saddlebag lids back on last night (after clear bra application), but twisting a nut or holding onto anything small like that is still out of the question. Lots of pain. I need to save my hand for the trip, so Dan will have to do that when he makes it over here today.

I know this blog has not been written in for months, so I doubt anyone's reading right now, but I'm going to post a link to my Daytona Women's MDA Ride donation site anyway. Make a difference!

Daytona Women's MDA Ride